W^irnkM'} ft?r; §'"Si;3^^-;!5ifc--s'-^-' LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE FRANK FAIRLEGH u in 7i My G'F, IXS'i k FliT¥I PITPI E!(^E T '^^HAMK ^*v-^ -^^^Igj^a^, (2.;^^ ,JZa/y Frank Fairlegh OR SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF A PRIVATE PUPIL (frank e. smedley) lis ARUNDEL," " HAERY'^OVERDALE'S C' AUTHOR OF " LEWIS ARUNDEL," " HARRY'^OVERDALE'S COURTSHIP," ETC. /// "How now! good lack! What present have we here? A Book that stood in peril of the press ; But now it's past those pikes, and doth appear To keep the lookers-on from heaviness. "What stuff contains it ? "— Davies of Hereford. WITH THIRTY ILLUSTRATIONS BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK FROM THE ORIGINAL STEEL PLATES DOWNEY & CO., Limited 12 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON 1899 2)et)ication To M. U. S. AND M. B. S. My dear Cousins,— As it is mainly owing to your joint advice and encom-agement that this tale has been either wi-itten, or laid before the public, there can be none to whom I may with greater propriety dedicate it. When I add that my satisfaction in making this slight acknow- ledgment of the countless acts of affectionate kindness I have received at your hands, is one among the many agreeable results of the advice which has eventually led me to adopt a literary career, you will not refuse to accept this assm-ance, that you have con- tributed to the happiness of one whose sphere, both of duties and pleasures, Providence has seen fit to limit. That our friendship may continue unintemipted through Time, is the hope, and through Eternity, is the prayer, of yom' affectionate friend and cousin, The Author. PEEFACE Having, from causes of a physical natiu*e, much, leisure time upon my hands, I amused myself by working into a story my recollections of certain boyish escapades at a private tutor's. My reason for selecting such a theme was twofold. In the fii'st place, it struck me, that while volume after volume had been devoted to " Schoolboy Days " and " College Life," the mysteries of that paradise of public- school-fearing mammas — a " Private Tutor's " — yet continued un- revealed ; and I resolved to enlighten these tender parents as to the precise natui-e of the rosebed into which they were so anxious to transplant their darlings. In the second place, I wished to prove to the young Hopefuls themselves, that a lad, hitherto shielded from evil by the hallowing influences of home, may successfully resist the new trials and temptations to which, on this his first essay in life, he may be subjected ; that the difl&culties which suiTOund him will yield to a little firmness and decision ; and that such a course, steadily persisted in, will alike gain him the esteem of his companions, and lay the foundation of the character which it should be his aim to support through life — viz. that of a Christian and a gentleman. With such views, the earlier " Scenes from the Life of a Private Pupil" were wiitten, and appeared originally in the pages of Sharpe's Magazine. The tale proved popular, and was continued, at the request of the then editor, till it attained its present limits. In the delineation of character, my desire has been to paint men as they are, rather than as they should be ; and the moral (if moral there be) is to be derived quite as much from their faults as from their virtues. To this design must also be traced all inconsistencies of character, — as, for example, when Frank Fairlegh, possessing sufficient religious principle to enable him to look upon duelling as a crime which no combination of circumstances can justify, yet becomes involved in such an affair himself. These shoi-tcomiugs doubtless evince a lamentable contrast to the perfection of the stereotyped novel hero ; but as it has never been my good fortune to meet with that faultless monster, a perfectly consistent man, or woman, I prefer describing character as I find it. yiii PREFACE Should this, my first work, fall into the hands of my former Tutor, let me take this opportunity of thanking him for the trouble he bestowed upon a graceless boy, who even then possessed sufficient sense to perceive and appreciate his many high and endearing quali- ties. If any of my fellow-pupils peruse these pages, and, recognizing certain incidents of their boyish days, seek to fit my ideal sketches to living prototypes, let me beg them to bear in mind that the character of Richard Cumberland is purely fictitious, and intro- duced, like that of Wilford, to satisfy the requirements of a tale- wi-iter, and enable me to work out the details of my story. In regard to the other ' di-amatis personae,' although I have occasionally taken a hint from living models, and although certain incidents (e.g. the bell-ringing scene) are founded on fact, I never have copied, and never will copy, so closely as to flatter or wound the feelings of any person ; and those who imagine that, in their sagacity, they have discovered Lawless was intended for Mr. A., or Mrs. Coleman for Mrs. B., deceive themselves, and attribute a degree of skill in portrait-painting, of which he is equally imconscious and undeserving, to The Author. CONTENTS CHAPTER PA.eii I. ALL right! off WE GO ! 1 II. LOSS AND GAIN 11 III. COLD-WATER CURB FOR THE HEARTACHE ... 18 IV. WHEREIN IS COMMENCED THE ADVENTURE OF THE MACINTOSH, AND OTHER MATTERS ... 24 V. MAD BESS . . . 34 VI. LAWLESS GETS THOROUGHLY PUT OUT ... 40 VII. THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH 51 VIII. GOOD RESOLUTIONS 61 IX. A DENOUEMENT 69 X. THE BOATING PARTY 79 XI. BREAKERS AHEAD ! 85 XII. DEATH AND CHANGE 90 XITI. CATCHING A SHRIMP 97 XIV. THE BALL 104 XV. RINGING THE CURFEW 109 XVI. THE ROMAN FATHER 116 XVII. THE INVISIBLE GIRL 123 XVIII. THE GAME IN BARSTONE PARK 127 XIX. TURNING THE TABLES 182 XX. ALMA MATER 135 XXI. THE WINE-PARTY 138 XXII. TAMING A SHREW 147 XXIII. WHAT HARRY AND I FOUND WHEN WE LOST OUR WAY .... 154 XXIV. HOW OAKLANDS BROKE HIS HORSEWHIP . . . 160 XXV. THE CHALLENGE 167 XXVI. COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE . 173 XXVII. THE DUEL 179 XXVIII. THE SUBSTANCE OP THE SHADOW .... 186 XXIX. THE STRUGGLE IN CHESTERTON MEADOW . . . 193 CONTENTS CHAPTER XXX. XXXI. XXXII. XXXIII. XXXIV. XXXV. XXXVI. XXXVII. XXXVIII. XXXIX. XL. XLI. XLII. XLIII. XLIV. XLV. XLVI. XLVII. XLVIII. XLIX. L. LI. LII. LIII. LIV. LV. LVI. LAST. PAOK MR. FRAMPTON's INTRODUCTION TO A TIGER . 197 HOW I RISE A DEGREE, AND MR. FRAMPTON GETS ELEVATED IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE . . 204 catching sight of an old flame . . . 211 woman's a riddle 217 the riddle baffles me ! 223 A MTSTERI'OUS LETTER 230 THE RIDDLE SOLVED 237 THE FORLORN HOPE 243 FACING THE ENEMY 250 THE COUNCIL OF WAR 257 LAWLESS'S MATINEE MUSICALE 264 HOW LAWLESS BECAME A LADY'S MAN . . . 272 THE MEET AT EVERSLEY GORSE .... 280 A CHARADE— NOT ALL ACTING 281 CONFESSIONS 296 HELPING A LAME DOG OVER A STILE . . . 304 TEARS AND SMILES 312 A CURE FOR THE HEARTACHE 319 PAYING OFF OLD SCORES 320 MR. FRAMPTON MAKES A DISCOVERY . . . 337 A RAY OF SUNSHINE 345 FREDDY COLEMAN FALLS INTO DIFFICULTIES . 352 LAWLESS ASTONISHES MR. COLEMAN , . .359 A COMEDY OF ERRORS 365 MR. VERNOR MEETS HIS MATCH .... 372 THE PURSUIT 378 RETRIBUTION 384 WOO'd and MARRIED AND A' 391 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAQE Pictures of Life Frontispiece The Latch-key Engraved Title Frank Fairlegh caught in a Booby Trap 23 Lawless ornamenting Frank's Writing-desk .... 26 Mad Bess 38 Lawless finds his Level 48 The Doctor makes a Discovery 68 The Doctor expels a Pupil 77 Frank rescues Coleman 88 The Fall of the Candelabrum 106 Freddy Coleman mystifies the Beadle 112 Lawless eloping with the Fire Engine 114 The "Wine Party 142 The Roused Lion 160 The Results of giving Satisfaction 182 Fairlegh to the Rescue 194 Hm-ra ! Hm-ra ! Room for the Governor 207 The shy yoimg Gentleman favours the Company with a Song . 210 A mysterious Bonnet 214 An unexpected Reverse 225 The Discovery 237 The Lovers' Leap 286 A Charade — not all acting 292 A new Cure for the Heartache 323 A striking Position 336 The Reconciliation 354 Mammon Worship '. . 363 A Messenger of Evil 378 The Retribution 386 The Rescue 388 FRANK FAIRLEGH Scenes from the Life of a Private Pupil CHAPTER I. ALL EIGHT ! OFF WE GO ! " Yet here . . . you are stayed for . . . There my blessing with you. And these few precepts in thy memory See thou character " " Home-keeping youth, have ever homely wits, I rather would entreat thy company To see the wonders of the world abroad. Than living dully, sluggardis'd at home, AVear out tliy youth with shapeless idleness." " Where unbniised youth, with unstuffed brain, Doth couch his hmbs, there golden sleep doth reign." Shakespeare. "Never forget, under any circumstances, to think and act like a gentleman, and don't exceed your allowance," said my father. " Mind you i-ead your Bible, and remember what I told you about wearing flannel waistcoats," cried my mother. And with their imited, " God bless you, my boy ! " still ringing in my ears, I found myself inside the stage-coach, on my way to London, Now, I am well aware that the coiTect thing for a boy in my situation (i.e. leaving home for the first time) would be to fall back on his seat, and into a reverie, during which, utterly lost to all external impressions, he should entertain the thoughts and feelings of a well-infoi-med man of thirty ; the same thoughts and feelings being clothed in the semi-poetic prose of a fashionable novel writer. Deeply gi-ieved, therefore, am I at being forced both to set at naught so laudable an established precedent, and to expose my own de- generacy. But the truth must be told at all hazards. The only feel- ing I experienced, beyond a vague sense of loneliness and desolation, was one of great personal discomfort. It rained hard, so that a small stream of water, which descended from the roof of the coach as B 2 FRANK FAIRLEGH I entered it, liad insinuated itself between one of the flannel waist- coats, which formed so imi^ortant an item in the maternal valediction, and my skin, whence, endeavouring to carry out what a logician would call the " law of its being," by finding its own level, it placed me in the undesirable position of an involuntary disciple of the cold- water cure taking a " sitz-bad." As to my thoughts, the reader shall have the full benefit of them, in the exact order in which they flitted through my brain. First came a vague desire to render my position more comfortable, ending in a forlorn hope that intense and continued sitting might, by some undefined process of evaporation, cm-e the evil. This suggested a speculation, half pleasing and half painful, as to what would be my mother's feelings, could she be aware of the state of things ; the pleasiire being the result of that mysterious preternatural delight which a boy always takes in everything at all likely to injure his health, or endanger his existence, and the pain arising from the knowledge that there was now no one near me to care whether I was comfortable or not. Again, these speculations merged into a sort of dreamy wonder, as to why a queer little old gentleman opposite (my sole fellow-traveller) was griinting like a pig, at intervals of about a minute, though he was wide awake the whole time ; and whether a small tuft of hair on a mole at the tip of his nose could have anything to do with it. At tliis point, my meditations were inter- rupted by the old gentleman himself, who, after a louder grimt than usual, gave vent to his feelings in the following speech, which was partly addressed to me, and partly a soliloquy : " Umph ! going to school, my boy, eh ? " then in a lower tone, " Wonder why I called him my boy, when he's no such thing : just like me, umph ! " I replied by informing him that I was not exactly going to school —(I was nearly fifteen, and the word " school " sounded derogatory to my dignity) — but that, having been up to the present time educated at home by my father, I was now on my way to complete my studies under the care of a private tutor, who only received six pupils, a very different thing from a school, as I took the liberty of insinuating. "Umph! different thing? You will cost more, leara less, and fancy yourself a man when you are a boy ; that's the only difference I can see ; " then came the aside—" Snubbing the poor child when he's a peg too low already, just like me : umph ! " After which he relapsed into a silence which continued uninter- rupted until we reached London, save once, while we were changing horses, when he produced a flask with a silver top, and, taking a sip himself, asked me if I drank brandy. On my shaking my head, with a smile caused by what api^eared to me the utter wildness and desperation of the notion, he muttered, — " Umph ! of course he doesn't; how should he ? — just like me." In due course of time we reached the Old Bell Inn, Holboni, where the coach stopped, and where my ti-unk and myself were to be FRANK FAIRLEGH 3 handed over to the tender mercies of the coachman of the " Rocket," a fast coach (I speak of the slow old days when railroads were xm- known), which then ran to Helmstone, the watering-place where my future tutor, the Rev. Dr. Mildman, resided. My first impressions of London are scarcely worth recording, for the simple reason that they consisted solely of intense and unmitigated siirprise at every- thing and everybody I saw and heard ; which may be more readily believed when I add the fact that my preconceived notion of the metropolis had led me to imagine it perhaps might be twice the size of the town nearest to my father's house ; in short, almost as large as Grosvenor Square. Here, then, I parted company with my fellow-traveller, who took leave of me thus, — " Umph ! well, good-bye; be a good boy— good man, yoti'd like me to say, I suppose ; man indeed ! iimph ! don't forget what youi* parents told you ; " then adding, " Of course he will, what's the use of telling him not ? just like me ; " — he dived into the recesses of a hackney coach, and disappeai-ed. Nothing woi-thy of note occiuTed during my joiirney to Helmstone, where we anived at about half -past fom- in the afternoon. My feelings of surprise and admiration were destined once more to be excited on this (to me) memorable day, as on my way from the coach office to Langdale Terrace, where Dr. Mildman resided, I beheld, for the first time, that most stupendous work of God, the mighty ocean ; which, alike in its wild resistless freedom, and its mii-aculous obedience to the command, " Thiis far shalt thou come, and no further,'' bears at once the plainest print of its Almighty Creator's hand, while it affords a strong and convincing proof of His omnipotence. On knocking at the door of Dr. Mildman's house (if the truth must be told, it was with a trembling hand I did so), it was opened by aman-sei'vant, whose singularly plain features were characterized by an expression alternating between extreme civility and an intense appreciation of the ludicrous. On mentioning my name, and asking if Dr. Mildman was at home, he replied, — " Yes, sir, master's in, sir ; so you're Mr. Fairlegh, sir, our new joung gent, sir ? " (here the ludicrous expression predominated) ; '■ hope you'll be comfortable, sir " (here he nearly burst into a laugh) ; " show you into master's study, sir, directly " (here he became pre- teraaturally grave again) ; and opening the study door, ushered me into the presence of the dreaded tutor. On my entrance, Dr. Mildman (for such I presumed a middle-aged gentleman, the sole tenant of the apartment, to be) rose from a library table, at which he had been seated, and, shaking me kindly by the hand, inquired after the health of my father and mother, what •sort of jouraey I had had, and sundry other particulars of the like natm-e, evidently with the good-humoured design of putting me a 4 FRANK FAIRLEGH little more at my ease, as I have no doubt tlie trepidation I was well aware of feeling inwardly, at finding myself ' tete-a-tete ' with a real live tutor, was wi-itten in very legible characters on my countenance. Dr. Mildman. whose appearance I studied with an anxious eye, was a gentlemanly man of five-and-forty, or thereabouts, with a liigh bald forehead and good features, the prevailing expression of which, naturally mild and benevolent, was at times chequered by that look which all schoolmasters sooner or later acquire— a look which seems to say. " Now, sir, do you intend to mind me or do you not ? " Had it not been for this, and for an appearance of iiTCsolution about the mouth, he would have been a decidedly fine-looking man. While I was making these observations, he informed me that I had arrived just in time for dinner, and that the servant should show me to my sleeping-apartment, whence, when I had sacrificed to the Graces (as he was pleased to call dressing),! was to descend to the drawing- room, and be introduced to Mrs. MUdman and my future com- panions. My sleeping-room, which was rather a small garret than otherwise, was furnished, as it appeared to me, with more regard to economy than to the comfort of its inmate. At one end stood a small four- post bedstead, which, owing to some mysterious cause, chose to hold its near fore-leg up in the air, and slightly advanced, thereby impress- ing the beholder with the idea that it was about to trot into the middle of the room. On an unpainted deal table stood a looking- glass, which from a habit it had of altering and embellishing the face of anyone who consulted it. must evidently have possessed a strong natural taste for the ludicrous : an ancient washing-stand, suppoi-ting a basin and towel, and a dissipated-looking chair, com- pleted the catalogue. And here, while preparing for the alarming ordeal I was so soon to undergo, let me present to the reader a slight sketch of myself, mental and bodily ; and, as mind ought to take precedence of matter. I wiU attempt, as far as I am able after the lapse of time, to paint my character in true colours, " naught extenuating, nor setting down aught in malice." I was, then, as the phrase goes, " a very well- behaved young gentleman ; " that is, I had a gi-eat respect for all properly-constituted a\ithorities, and an extreme regard for the proprieties of life ; was very particular about my shoes being clean, and my hat nicely brushed ; always said, " Thank you," when a servant handed me a plate, and '" May I trouble you ? " when I asked for a bit of bread. In short. I bade fair in time to become a thorough old bachelor; one of those unhappy mortals whose lives are a burden alike to themselves and others ; men who, by magnify- ing the nainor household miseries into events of importance, are uneasy and suspicious about the things from the wash having been properly aired, and become low and anxious as the dreadfid time approaches when clean sheets are inevitable ! My ideas of a private tutor, derived chiefly from " Sandford and Merton,'" and '" Evenings FRANK FAIRLEGH 5 at Home," were rather wide of the mark, leading me to expect that Dr. Mildman would impart instruction to us daring long rambles over green fields, and in the form of moral allegories, to which we should listen with respectful attention, and affectionate esteem. With regard to my outward man, or rather boy, I should have been obliged to confine myseK to such pai-ticulars as I could remember, namely, that I was tall for my age, but slightly built, and so thin as often to provoke the application of such epithets as " hop pole," " thread-paper," etc., had it not been that, in tiiming over some papers a few days since, I stumbled on a water-colour sketch of myself, which I well remembered being taken by a young ai-tist in the neighbourhood, just before I left home, in the hope of consoling my mother for my departure. It represented a lad about fifteen, in a pictm-esque attitude, feeding a pony otit of a very elegant little basket, with what appeared to be white currants, though I have every reason to believe they were meant for oats. The aforesaid youth rejoiced in an open shii-t-coUar and black ribbon a la Byi'on, curling hair of a dark chestnut colour, regular featm-es, a high forehead, com- plexion like a girl's, very pink and white, and a paii- of large blue •eyes, engaged in regarding the white ciUTant oats with intense siu-prise, as well indeed they might. Whether this young gentleman bore more resemblance to me than the currants did to oats, I am, of com-se, unable to judge; but, as the poi-trait represented a very handsome boy, I hope none [of my readers will be rude enough to doubt that it was a striking likeness. I now proceeded to render myself thoroughly wretched by attempting to extricate the articles necessai-y for a change of dress from the very bottom of my tnmk, where, according to the nature of such things, they had hidden themselves ; gi-ammars, lexicons, and other like "' Amenities of Literature,"' being the things that came to hand most readily. Scarcely had I contrived to discover a wearable suit, when I was informed that dinner was on the table ; so, hastily tumbling into my clothes, and giving a final peep at the facetious looking-glass, the result of which was to twist the bow of my Byi'on tie under my left ear, in the belief that I was thereby putting it straight, I rushed downstairs, just in time to see the back of the hindmost pupil disappear through the dining-room door. " Better late than never, Fairlegh. Mrs. Mildman, this is Fairlegh ; he can sit by you, Coleman — ' For what we are going t^ receive,' etc. — Thomas, the cai-ving-knife." Such was the address with which my tutor greeted my entrance, and during its progi-ess I popped into a seat indicated by a sort of half-wink from Thomas, resisting by a powerful act of self-control ■a. sudden impulse which seized me to bolt out of the room, and do ■something rash but indefinite, between going to sea and taking prussic acid; not quite either, but partaking of the nature of both. " Take soup, Fairlegh ? " said Dr. Mildman. 6 FRANK FAIRLEGH "Thank you, sir. if you please." " A pleasant journey, had you ? " inquired Mrs. Mildman. " Not any. I am much oblia^ed to you," I replied, thinking of the? fish. This produced a total silence, during which the pupils exchanged glances, and Thomas concealed an illicit smile behind the bi'ead- basket. " Does your father," l>egan Dr. Mildman in a very grave and deliberate manner, " does your father shoot ? — boiled mutton, my dear ? " I replied that he had given it up of late years, as the fatigue waa too much for him. " Oh ! I was very fond of caiTying a gun— pepper — when I was — a spoon — at Oxford ; I could hit a — mashed potato — bird as well as inost men ; yes, I was very sorry to give up my double barrel — ale, Thomas." " You came inside, I believe ? " questioned Mrs. Mildman, a lady possessing a shadowy outline, indistinct featuies faintly characterized by an indefinite expression, long ringlets of an almost impossible shade of whity-brown, and a complexion and general appearance only to be described by the term " washed out." " Yes, all the way, ma'am." " Did you not dislike it very much ? it creases one's gown so, unless, it is a merino or mousseline de laine ; but one can't always wear them, you know." Not being in the least prepared with a suitable answer, I merely made what I intended to be an affirmative ahem, in doing which a crumb of bread chose to go the wrong way, producing a violent fit of coughing, in the agonies of wliicli I seized and di'ank off Dr. Mildman's tumbler of ale, mistaking it for my own small beer. The effect of this, my crowning ' gaucherie,' was to call forth a languid smile on the countenance of the senior pupil, a tall yomig man, with dark hair, and a rather forbidding expression of face, which struggled only too successfully with an attempt to look exceed- ingly amiable, which smile was repeated with variations by all the others. " I am afraid you do not distinctly perceive the difference between those impox-tant pronouns, ' meum ' and ' tuum,' Fairlegh P Thomas, a clean glass ! " said Dr. Mildman, with a forced attempt at drollery ; but Thomas had evaporated suddenly, leaving no clue to his where- abouts, unless sundry faint sounds of suppressed laughter outside the door, indicating, as I fancied, his extreme appreciation of my unfortunate nvistake, proceeded from him. It is, I believe, a generally received axiom that all mortal affairs must sooner or later come to an end ; at all events, the dinner I have been describing did not form an exception to the mde. In due time Mrs. Mildman disappeared, after which Dr. Mildman addressed a remark or two about Greek tragedy to the tall pupil, which led to a FRANK FAIRLEGH 7 dissertation on the merits of a gentleman named Pi-ometlieus, who^ it seemed, was bound in some peculiar way, but whether this referred to his apprenticeship to any trade, or to the cover of the book containing his history, did not appear. This conversation lasted about ten minutes, at the expiration of which the senior pupil '■ grinned hoiiibly a ghastly smile " at the others, who instantly rose and conveyed themselves out of the room with such rapidity that I, being quite unprepared for such a proceeding, sat for a moment in silent amazement, and then, becoming suddenly alive to a sense of my situation, rushed frantically after them. My speed was checked somewhat abruptly by a door at the end of the passage being A'iolently slammed in my face, for which polite attention I v.as indebted to the philanthropy of the hindmost pupil, who thereby imposed upon me the agreeable task of feeling in the dark for a door handle in an unknown locality. After fumbling for some time, in a state of the greatest bewilderment, I at length opened the door, and beheld the iuterior of the " pupils' room," which, for the benefit of such of my readei^s as may never have seen the like, I will now endeavour shortly to describe. The parlour devoted to the pupils' use was of a good size, nearly square, and, like the cabin of a certain '"ould Irish gentleman," appeared to l)e fitted up with " nothing at all for show." In three of the corners stood small tables covered with books and wi'iting materials, for the use of Dr. Mildman and the two senior pupUs ; in the fourth was a book-case. The centre of the room was occupied by a large square table, the common property of the other pupils ; whUe a carpet " a little the worse for wear." and sundry veteran chairs, rather crazy from the treatment to which many generations of pupils had subjected them (a chair being the favourite projectile in the e^-ent of a shindy), completed the catalogue. Mr. Richard Cumberland, the senior pupU, was lounging in an easy attitude on one side of the fireplace ; on the other stood, bolt upright, a lad rather older than myself, with a long unmeaning face, and a set of arms and legs which appeai-ed not to belong to one another. This worthy, as I soon learned, responded to the name of Nathaniel Mullins. and usually served as the butt of the party, in the absence of newer or worthier game. Exactly in front of the fire, with hi» coat tails under his arms, and his legs extended like a pair of com- passes, was stationed Mr. Geoi'ge Lawless, who, having been expelled from one of the upper forms at Eton, for some heroic exploit, which the head-master could not be persuaded to view in its proper light, was sent to vegetate for a year or two at Dr. Mildman's ere he proceeded to one of the universities. This gentleman was of rather a shoi-t, thick-set figure, with a large head, and an expression of countenance resembling that of a bull when the animal " means mischief," and was supposed by his friends to be more '' thoroughly awake " than anyone of his years in the thi'ee kingdoms. The quartette was completed by Mr. Frederick Coleman, a small lad> 8 FRANK FAIRLEGH with a round, merry face, who was perched on the back of a chair, with his feet resting: on the hob, and his person so disposed as effectually to screen every ray of fire from Nathaniel Miillins. " You are not cold, Fairlegh ? Don't let me keep the fire from you," said Lawless, without, however, showing the slightest intention of moving. " Not vei-y, thank you." " Eh ! quite right — glad to hear it. It's Mildman's wish that, during the first half, no pupil should come on the hearthrug. I made a point of conscience of it myself when I first came. The Spartans, you know, never allowed their little boys to do so, and even the Athenians, a much more luxurious people, always had their pinafores made of asbestos, or some such fii-eproof stuff. You are well read in Walker's History of Greece, I hope ? " I replied that I was afraid I was not. " Never read ' Hookey us Magnus ' ? Your father ought to be ashamed of himself for neglecting you so. You are aware, I suppose, that the Greeks had a different sort of fire to what we bum nowa- days P You've heard of Greek fire ? " I answered that I had, but did not exactly imderstand what it meant. " Not know that, either P Disgraceful ! "Well, it was a kind of way they had of flaring up in those times, a sort of ' light of other days,' which enabled them to give their friends a warm reception ; so much so, indeed, that their friends found it too warm sometimes, and latterly they usually reserved it for their enemies. Mind you remember all this, for it is one of the first things old Sam will be sure to ask you." Did my ears deceive me? Could he have called the tutor, the dreaded tutor, " old Sam " P I trembled as I stood— plain, un- honoured " Sam," as though he had spoken of a footman ! The room tui-ned round with me. Alas, for Sandford and Merton, and affec- tionate and respectful esteem ! " But how's this P " continued Lawless, " we have forgotten to introduce you in form to your companions, and to enter your name in the books of the establishment ; why, Cumberland, what were you thinking of ? " "Beg pardon," rejoined Cumberland; "I really was so buried in thought, trying to solve that problem about bisecting the Siamese twins — you know it, Lawless? However, it is not too late, is it? Allow me to introduce you, Mr. Fairplay— " " Legh, sir." interrupted I. " Ah, exactly ; well, then, Mr. Fairlegh. let me introduce this gentleman, Mr. George Lawless, who has, if I mistake not, been already tiding, with his ixsual benevolence, to supply a few of your deficiencies ; he is, if he will allow me to say so, one of the most rising young men of his generation, one of the fii-mest props of the glorious edifice of our rights and privileges." FRANK FAIRLEGH 9 " A regular brick,'' interposed Coleman. " Hold your tongue, Freddy : little boys should be seen and not heard, as Tacitus tells us," said Lawless, reprovingly. The only reply to this, if reply it could be called, was something which sounded to me like a muttered reference to the Greek historian Walker, whom Lawless had so lately mentioned, and Ciimberland continued, — " You will pay great attention to everything Lawless tells you, and endeavour to improve by following his example, at a respectful distance — ahem ! The gentleman on yoiu* right hand, Mr. Mullina, who is chiefly remarkable for looking " (" Like a fool,'' put in Cole- man, sotto voce) " before he leaps, so long, that in general he postpones leaping altogether, and is in the habit of making'' ("An ass of himself," suggested Coleman) — "really, Freddy, I am sur- prised at you— of making two bites at a chen-y — you will be better able to appreciate when you know more of him. As to my young friend Freddy here, his natiu-ally good abilities and amiable temper '' ("Draw it mild, old fellow!" interrupted the young gentleman in question) " have interested us so much in his favour that we cannot but view with regret a habit he has of late fallen into, of turning evei*ything into ridicule " (" What a pity ! " from the same indi- vidual), "together with a lamentable addiction to the use of slang terms. Let me hope his association with such a polished young gentleman as Mr. Fairlegh may improve him in these particulars." " Who drank Mildman's ale at dinner ? " asked Coleman ; "if "that's a specimen of his polished manners, I think mine take the shine o\it of them, rather." " I assiu-e you," interrupted I, eagerly, " I never was more distressed in my life ; it was quite a mistake." " Pretty good mistake — Hodgson's f>ale ale for Muddytub's swipes — eh. Mull ? '' rejoined Coleman. " I believe you," replied Mullins. " Well, now for entering your name ; that's impoi*tant, you know," said Lawless ; " you had better ring the bell, and tell Thomas to bring the books." I obeyed, and when Thomas made his appearance, informed him of my desire to enter my name in the books of the establishment, which I begged he would bring for that piu*pose. A look of bewilder- ment that came over his face on heai'ing my request, changed to an •expression of intelligence, as, after receiving some masonic sign from Lawless, he replied, — " The books, sir ; yes, sir ; bring 'em directly, su*." After a few miniites he returned with two small, not overclean, books, iiiled with blue lines. One of these Lawless took from him, opened with much ceremony, and covering the upper part of the page with a bit of blotting paper, pointed to a line, and desired me to wi-ite my name and age, as well as the date of my an-ival, upon it. "The same ceremony was repeated with the second. 10 FRANK FAIRLEGH " That's all riglit : now let's see how it reads," said he, and, removing the blotting paper, read as follows : " ' Pair of Welling- tons, <£1 15s.; satin stock, 2os. ; cap ribbon for Sally Duster, 2s. 6d. ; box of cigars, £1 16s. (mem. shocking bad lot) — Nov. oth, Francis Fairlegh, aged 15.' — So much for that ; now, let's see the next : ' Five shirts, four iiair of stockings, six pocket-handkercbiefs, two pair of white ducks — Nov. 5th. Francis Fairlegh. aged 15.' " Here his voice was drowned in a roar of laughter from the whole party assembled, Thomas included, during which the time state of the case dawned uj)ou me, viz. — that I had, with much pomp and ceremony, entered my name, age, and the date of my arrival, in Mr. George Lawless's private account and washing books. My thoiights, as I laid my aching head upon my pillow that night, were not of the most enviable nature. Leaving for the first time the home where 1 had lived from childhood, and in which I had met with affection and kindness from all around me, had been a trial under which my fortitude would most assuredly have given way, but for the brilliant pictm-e my imagination had very obligingly sketched of the " happy family," of which I was about to become a member ; in the foreground of which stood a group of fellow-pupils, a united brotherhood of congenial souls, containing three bosom friends at the very least, anxiously awaiting my arrival with outstretched arms of welcome. Now, however, this last hope had failed me ; for, innocent (or as Coleman would have termed it, green) as I then was, I could not but perceive that the tone of mock politeness assumed towards me l)y Cumberland and Lawless was merely a convenient cloak for impertinence, which could be thrown aside at any moment when a more open display of their powers of tormenting should seem advisable. In fact (though I was little aware of the pleasures in store for me), I had already seen enough to prove that the life of a private pupil was not exactly " all my fancy painted it ; " and, as the misery of leaving those I loved proved in its " sad reality" a much more serious affair than I had imagined, the result of my cogitations was, that I was a very imhappy boy (I did not feel the smallest inclination to ))oast myself man at that moment), and that, if some- thing very much to my advantage did not tui-n up in the course of the next twenty-four hours, my friends would have the melancholy satisfaction of depositing a broken heart (which, on the principle of the Kilkenny cats, was all I expected would remain of me by that time) in an early grave. Hereabouts, my feelings becoming too many for me at the thought of my own funeral. I fairly gave up the struggle, and, bursting into a flood of tears, cried myself to sleep, like a child. FRANK FAIRLEGH 11 CHAPTER II. LOSS AND GAIN. " And youtliful still, iii your doublet and hose, this raw rheumatic day ! " " His thefts wer6 too open ; his filching was like an unskilful singer, he kept not time. . . . Convey, the wise call it. Steal ! foh ! a flco for the phrase ! "—Skakeipeare. " From Greenland's icy mountains." — Sehev. Amongst the minor phenomena which are hourly occurring in the details of every-day life, although we are seldom sufficiently close obsei'^ers to perceive them, there is none more remarkable than the change wrought in oiu" feelings and ideas l>y a good night's rest ; and never was this change more strikingly exemplified than on the present occasion. I had fallen asleep in the act of performing the character of chief mourner at my own funeral, and I awoke in the highest possible health and spirits, with a strong determination never to "'say die" under any conceivable aspect affaii-s might assume. " What in the world," said I to myself, as I sprang out of bed, and began to dress ; " what in the world was there for me to make myself so miserable about last night ? Suppose Cumberland and Lawless should laugh at, and tease me a little at first, what does it signify ? I must take it in good part as long as I can, and if that does not do, I must speak seriously to them — tell them they really annoy me and make me uncomfortable, and then, of course, they will leave off. As to Coleman, I am cei-tain WeU, it's very odd " — this- last remark was elicited by the fact that a search I had been making for some minutes, in every place possible and impossible, for that indispensable ai-ticle of male attire, my trousers, had proved wholly ineffectual, although I had a distinct recollection of having placed them carefully on a chair by my bedside the previous night. There, however, they certainly were not now, nor, as far as I could discover, anywhere else in the room. Under these circumstances, ringing the bell for Thomas seemed advisable, as it occurred to me that he had probably abstracted the missing garment for the purpose of brushing. In a few moments he answered the summons, and, with a face bright from the combined effects of a light heart and a severe application of yellow soap, inquired, " if I had rung for my shaving water ? " " Why, no — I do not — that is, it was not — I seldom shave of a morning ; for the fact is, I have no beard to shave as yet." ■■ Oh. sir, that's no reason ; there's Mr. Coleman's not got the leastest westige of a hair upon his chin, and he's been mowing a vay with the greatest of perse werance for the last six months, and sends his rashier to be ground every three weeks, regilar, in order to get a. beard — but what can I do for you, sir ? " 12 FRANK FAIRLEGH " Why," replied I, trying to look grave, " it's very odd, but I liave lost— that is, I can't find my trousers anywhere. I put them on this chair last night, I know." " Umph ! that's sing'lar, too ; I was just a coming upstairs to biiish 'em for you ; you did not hear anybody come into your room after you went to bed, did you, sir ? " " No ; but then I was so tired — I slept as sound as a top." " All ! I shouldn't much wonder if Mr. Coleman knew something about 'em : perhaps you had better put on another pair, and if I can find 'em. I'll bring "em back after breakfast." This was very good advice, and, therefore, of coiu-se, impossible to follow ; for, on examining my trunk, lo and behold ! dress pantaloons, white ducks, " et hoc genus omne," had totally disappeared, and I seemed to stand a very good chance of making my first appearance at my tutor's breakfast-table in an extemporary " kilt," improvised for the occasion, out of two towels and a checked neckcloth. In this extremity, Thomas, as a last resource, knocked at Coleman's door, informing him that I should be glad to speak to him— a proceeding speedily followed by the appearance of that gentleman ' in propria persona.' " Good moraing, Fairlegh, hope you slept well. You are looking cold ; had not you better get some clothes on ? Mildman will be down in a minute, and there will be a pretty row if we are not aU there ; he's precious particular, I can tell you." " That is exactly what I want to do," replied I ; " but the fact is, somebody has taken away all my trousers in the night." " Bless me ; you don't say so ? Another case of pilfering ! this is getting serious ; I mil call Lawless — I say, Lawless ! " " WeU, what's the row ? " was the reply. " Have the French landed, or is the kitchen chimney on fire, eh P What do I behold ? Fair- legh, lightly and elegantly attired in nothing but his shirt, and Thomas standing like Niobe, the picture of woe ! Here's a sight for a father ! " "Why, it's a bad job," said Coleman; "do you know, here's another case of pilfering ; Fairlegh has had all his trousers stolen in the night." " You don't say so ! " rejoined Lawless : " what is to be done ? It vaust be stopped somehow : we had better tell him all we know about it. Thomas, leave the room." Thomas obeyed, giving me a look of great intelligence, the meaning of which, however, I was totally at a loss to conceive, as he went ; and Lawless continued, — " I am afraid you will hardly believe us — it is really a most unheard-of thing — but we have lately missed a great many of oiu- clothes, and we have evei-y reason to suspect (I declare I can scarcely bear to mention it) that Mildman takes them himself, fancying, of course, that, placed by his position so entirely above suspicion, he may do it with impunity. We have suspected this for some time FRANK FAIRLEGH m and lately one or two circumstances — old clothesmen having been observed lea\'insr his study, a pawn-ticket falling out of bis waistcoat pocket one day as be went out of our parlour, etc. — bave put tbe- matter beyond a doubt ; but be has never j2fone to such an extent as this before. Mind you don't mention a word of this to Thomas, for, bad as Mildman is. one would not wish to show him up before bis own servant." " Good g^racious ! " cried I, " but you are joking ; it never can be- really tiiie ! " Reading, however, in the solemn, not to say distressed, expression of their faces, indisputable evidence of the reality of the accusation, I continued : " I bad no idea such things ever could take place, and he a clergyman, too ! — dreadful ! but what in the world am I to do ? I have not got a pair of trousers to put on. Oh ! if he- would but have taken anything else, even my watch instead, I should not have minded — what shall I do ? " " Why. really," replied Coleman. " it is not so easy to advise : you can't go down as you are, that's certain. Suppose you were to vn-ap yourself up in a blanket, and go and tell him you have found him out, and that you will call a policeman if he does not give you your clothes instantly ; have it out with him fairly, and check the thing- effectually once for all — eh ? " " No, that won't do." said Lawless. " 1 should say, sit down quietly (how cold you must be !) and vrrite him a civil note, saying that you had reason to believe he had borrowed your trousers (that's the way I should put it), and that you would be very much gratified by his lending you a pair to wear to-day, and then you can stick in something about your having been always accustomed to live with people who were very particular in regard to dress, and that you are son-y you are obliged to trouble him for such a trifle ; in fact, do- a bit of the respectful, and then pull up short with ' obedient pupil,' etc." '■ Ay, that's the way to do it," said Coleman, " in the shopfellow's style, you know— much o1)liged for past favours, and hope for a continuance of the same — more than you do, though, Fairlegh. I should fancy; but there goes the bell — I am oif," and away be scudded, followed by Lawless humming : — " Brian O'Lynn had no breeches to wear, So he took an old catskin, and made him a pair." Here was a pretty state of things : the breakfast bell had rung, and I, who considered being too late a crime of the first magnitude, was unable even to begin dressing, from the melancholy fact that every pair of trousers I possessed in the world had disappeared; while, to complete my misery, I was led to believe the delinquent who had abstracted them was no less a person than the tutor, whom I had come fully prepared to regard with feelings of the utmost respect, and veneration. However, in such a situation, thinking over my miseries was 14 FRANK FAIRLEGH worse than useless; sometliing must be done at once — bnt what? Write the note as Lawless had advised ? No, it was useless to think of that ; I felt I could not do it. Ah ! a bright idea ! — I'll try it. So, suiting the action to the word, I rang the bell, and then jumping into bed, muffled myself up in the bedclothes. " Well, sir, have you foimd them ? " asked Thomas, entering. " No, Thomas," replied I, dolefully, " nor ever shall, I fear ; but will you go to Dr. Mildman, and tell him, with my respects, that I cannot get up to breakfast this morning, and, if he asks what is the matter with me, say that I am prevented from coming down by severe cold. I am sure that is true enoiigh," added I, shivering. " Well, sir, I will, if you wish it ; but I don't exactly see the good of it ; you must get up some time or other." " I don't know," replied I, gloomily, " we shall see ; only do you take my message." And he accordingly left the room, miittering as he did so, " Well, I calls this a great deal too bad, and I'll tell master of it myself, if nobody else won't." " Tell master of it himself ! " — he also stispected him, then. This crushed my last faint hope that, after all, it might turn out to be only a trick of the pupils ; and overpowered by the utter vileness and depravity of him who was set in authority over me, I buried my face in the pillow, feeling a strong inclination to renew the lamenta- tions of the preceding night. Not many minutes had elapsed, when the sound of a heavy footstep slowly ascending the stairs attracted my attention. I raised my head, and beheld the benevolent counten- ance (for even then it certainly did wear a benevolent expression) of my wicked tutor, regarding me with a mingled look of scrutiny and pity. " Why, Fau'legh, what's all this ? — Thomas tells me you are not able to come down to breakfast ; you are not ill, I hope ? " " No, sir," replied I, " I don't think I am very ill ; but I can't come down to breakfast." " Not ill, and yet you can't come down to breakfast ! pray, what in the world prevents you ? " " Perhaps," said I (for I was becoming angry at what I considered his unparalleled effi'ontery, and thought I would give him a hint that he could not deceive me so easily as he seemed to expect), " perhaps you can tell that better than I can." " I, my boy ! — I'm afraid not ; my pretensions to the title of doctor are based on divinity, not physic : — however, put out your tongue — that's i-ight enough ; let me feel yoiir hand — a little cold or so, but nothing to signify ; did this kind of seizure ever happen to you at home ? " Well, this was adding insult to injury with a vengeance; not content with stealing my clothes himself, but actually asking me whether such things did not happen at home ! The wi-etch ! thought I ; does he suppose that everybody is as wicked as himself P FRANK FAIRLEGH 15 "No," I answered, my voice trembling with tlie anger I was scarcely able to repress ; " no, sir, such a thing never could happen in my dear father's house." " There, don't agitate yom-self ; you seem excited : pei-haps you had better lie in bed a little longer ; I will send you up something warm, and after that you may feel more inclined to get up," said he» kindly, adding to himself, as he left the room, '" Yery strange boy— I can't make him out at all." The door closed, and I was once more alone. " Is he guilty or not guilty ? " thought I ; "if he really has taken the clothes, he is the most accomplished hypocrite I ever heard of ; yet he must have done so, everything combines to prove it — Thomas's speech — nay, even his own offer of sending me ' something warm ' ; something warm, indeed ! what do I want wnth anything warm, except my trousers ? " No ! the fact was beyond dispute ; they were gone, and he had stolen them, whilst I, imhappy youth, was entirely in his power, and had not therefore a chance of i-edress. " But I will not bear it," cried I ; " I'll wi'ite to my father — I'll run away — I'll — " " Hui'rah ! " shouted Thomas, rushing into the room with his arm full of clothes, " here they are, sir ; I have found the whole kit of them at last." " Where ? " exclaimed I, eagerly. " Where ? why, in such a queer place ! " replied he, " stuffed up the chimbley in master's study ; but I have given them a good brushing, and they are none the worse for it, except them blessed white ducks ; they are a'most black ducks now, though they will wash, so that don't signify none." " Up the chimney, in master's study ! " Here was at last proof positive ; my clothes had been actually found in his possession — oh, the wickedness of this world ! " But how did you ever find them ? " asked I. " Why ! I happened to go in to fetch something, and I see'd a little bit of the leg of one of them hanging down the chimbley, so I guessed how it all was, directly. I think I know how they got there, too ; they did not walk there by themselves, I should say." " I wish they had," nuittered I. " I thought somebody was up too early this morning to be about any good," continued he ; " he is never out of bed tiU the last moment, without there's some mischief in the wind." This was pretty plain speaking, however. Thomas was .clearly as well aware of his master's nefarious practices as the pupils them- selves, and Lawless's amiable desire to conceal Dr. Mildman's sins from his servant's knowledge was no longer of any avail. I hastened, therefore (the only reason for silence being thus removed), to relieve my mind from the burden of just indignation which was oppressing it. " And can you, Thomas," exclaimed I, with flashing eyes, " remain the servant of a man who dares thus to outrage every law, human 16 FRANK FAIRLEGH and divine ? one who, having taken upon himself the sacred oflBce of a clergyman of the Church of England, and so made it his especial duty to set a good example to all aroimd him, can take advantage of the situation in which he is placed in regard to his pupils, and actually demean himself by purloining the clothes of the young men" (I felt five-and-twenty at the very least at that moment) " committed to his charge ?— why, my father—" "What I imagined my father would have said or done under these circumstances, was fated to remain a mystery, as my eloquence was brought to a sudden conclusion by my consternation, when a sei-ies of remarkable phenomena, which had been developing themselves dui-ing my harangue in the countenance of Thomas, terminated abruptly in what appeared to me a fit of most unmitigated insanity. A look of extreme astonishment, which he had assumed at the beginning of my speech, had given place to an expression of mingled surprise and anger as I continued; which again in its tuni had yielded to a grin of intense amusement, growing every moment broader and broader, accompanied by a spasmodic twitching of his whole person; and, as I mentioned his master's purloining my trousers, he suddenly sprang up from the floor nearly a yard high, and commenced an extempore ' pas seul ' of a Jim Crow character, which he continued with unabated vigour during several minutes. This ' Mazourka d'extase,' or whatever a ballet-master would have called it, having at length, to my great joy, concluded, the performer of it sank exhausted into a chair, and regarding me with a face still somewhat the worse for his late violent exertions, favoured me with the following geographical remark,— " Well, I never did believe in the existence of sich a place as Greenland before, but there's nowhere else as you can have come from, sir, I am certain." " Eh ! why ! what's the matter with you ? have I done anything particularly ' gi-een,' as you call it ? what are you talking about ? " said I, not feeling exactly pleased at the reception my virtuous indignation had met with. " Oh ! don't be angry, sir ; I am sure I did not mean to offend you ; but really I coidd not help it, when I heard you say about master's having stole your things. Oh, lor ! " he added, holding his sides with both hands, " how my precious sides do ache, sure-ly ! " " Do you consider that any laughing matter ? " said I, still in the dark. " Oh ! don't, sir, don't say it again, or you will be the death of me," replied Thomas, straggling against a relapse; "why, bless your innocence, what could ever make you think master would take your clothes?" " Make me think ? why. Lawless told me so," answered I, " and he also said it was not the first time such a thing had occurred, either." " You'll have enough to do, sir, if you believe all our young gents tell you ; why, master would as soon think of flying as of stealing FRANK FAIRLEGH 17 anything. It was Mr. Coleman as put them up the chimbley ; he's always a-playing some trick or another for everlasting." A pause ensued, dm-ing which the whole affair in its true bearings became for the fii-st time clear to my mind's eye ; the result of my cogitations may be gathered from the following remark, which escaped me as it were involuntarily — " What a confoimded ass I have made of myself, to be sm-e ! " Should any of my readers be rude enough to agree with me in this particular, let them reflect for a moment on the peculiar position in which I was placed. Having lived from childhood in a quiet country parsonage, with my father and mother, and a sister younger than myself, as my sole companions, " mystification " — that is, telling deliberate falsehoods by way of a joke— was a perfectly novel idea to me ; and when that joke involved the possibility of such serious consequences as offending the tutor under whose care we were placed, I (wholly ignorant of the impudence and recklessness of public school boys) considered such a solution of the mystery inconceivable. Moreover, eveiything around me was so strange, and so entirely different to the habits of life in which I had been hitherto brought up, that for the time my mind was completely bewildered. I appeared to have lost my powers of judgment, and to have relapsed, as far as intellect was concerned, into childhood again. My readers must excuse this digression, but it appeared to me necessai*y to explain how it was possible for a lad of fifteen to have been made the victim of such a palpably absurd deception, without its involving the necessity of his not being " so sharp as he should be." The promised " something warm " made its appearance ere long, in the shape of tea and toast, which, despite my alamiing seizure, I demolished with gi-eat gusto in l^ed (for I did not dare to get up), feeling, from the fact of my having olitained it under false pretences, very like a culprit all the while. Having finished my breakfast and allowed sufficient time to elapse for my recovery, I got up, and, selecting a pair of trousers which appeared to have suffered less from their sojourn in the chimney than the others, dressed myself, and soon after eleven o'clock made my appearance in the pupils" room, where I found Dr. Mildman seated at his desk, and the pupils apparently very hard at work. " How do you find yourself now you are up, Fairlegh ? " inquired my tutor, kindly. •■ Quite well, sir, thank you," I replied, feeling like an impostor. " Quite recovered ? " continued he. " Everything— entirely, I mean," stammered I, thinking of my trousers. " That's well, and now let us see what kind of a Latin and Greek lining you have got to your head." So saying, without appearing to notice the tittering of the pupils, he pointed to a seat by his side, and commenced what I considered a c 18 FRANK FAIRLEGH very fonnidable examination, witli the view o£ eliciting the extent of my acquaintance with the writers of antiquity, which proved to be extremely select. When he had thoroiighly satisfied (or dissatisfied) himself upon this point, he recommended Horace and Xenophon to my particular notice, adding that Coleman was also directing his attention to the sayings and doings of the same honoui'ahle and learned gentlemen — and that, therefore, we were to work together. He then explained to me certain i-ules and regulations of his establishment, to which he added a few moral remarks, conveying the information that, if I always did exactly what he considered right, and scrupulously avoided everything he deemed wrong, I might relieve my mind from all fears of his displeasure, which was, to say the least, satisfactory, if not particularly original. Exactly as the clock struck one. Dr. Mildman left the room (the morning's " study," as it was called, ending at that hour), leaving us om' own masters till five, at which time we dined. Lest any kind reader should fancy we were starved, let me add that at half -past one a substantial luncheon was provided, of which we might partake or not, as we pleased. As well as I I'emember, we generally did graciously incline towards the demolition of the viands, imless " metal more attractive " awaited us elsewhere — but I am digressing. CHAPTER III. COLD-WATER CURE FOR THE HEARTACHE. " Oh ! grief for words too deep, From all his loved ones parted, He could not cboose but weep. He was so lonely-hearted." Shortfellotc, " How does the water come down at Lodore ? Dashing and flashing, and splashing and clashing, All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, And this way the water comes down at Lodore." SoutJiey. "Pray, Fairlegh, what did you mean by not coming down till eleven o'clock P " asked Cumberland, in an angry tone. *' Did its mamma say it was always to have its breakfast in bed, a deal* ? " sneered Lawless. " When she fastened that pretty square collar round its neck," chimed in Colen?an. " Just like a gi-eat gal," added MuUins. FRANK FAIRLEGH 19 " Mildman was exceedingly angry about it, I can tell you," con- tinued Cumberland, " and desired me to speak seriously to you oo the subject ; such abominable idleness is not to be tolerated." " It was not idleness," answered I, wannly ; " you all know very well why I could not come down, and I don't think it was at all right or kind of you to play me such a trick." " Eh — now don't say that — you will hurt my feelings ; I declare it is quite affecting," said Coleman, wiping his eyes with Mullins' handkerchief, of which he had just picked his pocket. " I'd have given five pounds to have seen old Sam's phiz, when he was trying to make out what ailed young stupid here, whether he was really ill or only shamming," said Lawless ; " depend upon it, he thinks it was all pretence, and he cant bear anything of that sort ; that was why he began spinning him that long yam about ' merit- ing his approbation by iipright and straightfoi-ward conduct," this momuig. I saw what the old boy was aiming at in a minute : there's nothing puts him out so much as beiag deceived." " Won't he set him all the hard lines to construe, that's all ! " said Mullins. " It will be ' hard lines ' upon him if he does," obsenred Coleman. " Hold jour tongue, Freddy ! your pims are enough to make one ill," said Cumberland. " Well, I don't know whether you are going to stand here all day biting yom- pinafoi'e, Cumberland," inteiTupted Lawless ; " I'm not, for I've got a horse waiting for me down at Snaffles's, and I am going to ride over to Hookley ; there's a pigeon match coming off to-day between Clayton of the Lancers — he was just above me at Eton, you know — and Tom Horton, who won the great match at Finchley, and I have backed Clayton pretty heavily — shall you -come ? " " No," replied Cumberland, " no, I am going down to F Street." " As usual, the board of green cloth, eh ? you will go there once too often, if you don't mind, old fellow." " That's my look-out,"' replied Cumberland. And away they went to their different pursuits, each, as he left the Toom, making me a very low obeisance ; Coleman taking the troiible to ■open the door again after he had gone out, to beg " that if I were going to wi-ite to my mother, I would tell her, -with his love, that she need not make herself in the least uneasy, as he had' quite got over his last little attack." In a few minutes they had all quitted the house, and I remained the sole tenant of the piipils' room. Many a long year has passed over my head since the day I am now describing, and each (though my life has been on the whole as free from care as that of most of the sons of Adam) has brought with it some portion of sorrow or suffering, to temper the happiness I have enjoyed, and teach me the much required lesson, " that here we have no abiding place." I have lived to see bright hopes fade — high and 20 FRANK FAIRLEGH noble aspirations fall to the ground, checked by the sordid policy of worldly men — and the proud hearts which gave them birth become gi-adually debased to the level of those around them, or break in the unequal struggle — and these things have pained me. I have beheld those dear to me stretched upon the ])ed of sickness, and taken from me by the icy hand of death ; and have deemed, as the grave closed over them, that my happiness, as far as this world was concerned, was buried with them. I have known (and this was grief indeed) those loved with all the warm and trastf ul confidence of youth, prove false and luiworthy of such deei) affection ; and have wished in the bitterness of my soul, that the pit had shut her mouth upon me also, so I had but died with my faith in them unshaken. Still, although such soiTOws as these may have produced a more deep and lasting effect, I do not remember ever to have felt more thorouglily desolate than upon the present occasion. The last scene, though tnfling in itself, had made a great impression upon me, from the fact that it proved, as I considered, the animus of the pupils towards me- ' Every man's hand was against me." Even the oaf Mullins might insult me with impimity, seciu-e that, in so doing, if in nothing else, he would be supported by the rest. Then I had offended my tutor, all my predilections in whose favom' had returned with double force, since I had satisfied myself that he was not addicted to the commis- sion of petty larceny ; offended him by allowing him to suppose that I had practised a mean deception upon him. Moreover, it was im- possible to explain my conduct to him without showing up Coleman^ an extreme measure for which I was by no means prepared. Besides, everyone would think, if I were to do so, that I was actuated by a paltry spirit of malice, and that would have been worse to bear than anything. No — turn my gaze to whichever side I would, the horizon seemed alike clouded ; there was no comfort for me anywhere. I looked at my watch — two o'clock ! Three long hom-s to dinner-time, in which I might do what I liked. What I liked ! there was mockery in the veiy sound. What was there for me to do ? go out and see moi'e new faces looking coldly on me. and wander up and down in strange ijlaces alone, amidst a crowd ? No ! I had not the heart to do that. Sit down, and write home, and by telling them how miserable I was, render them unhappy too ? — that was the worst of all. At length I found a book, and began reading as it were mechanically, but so little was I able to fix my attention, that, had I been questioned at the end of the time as to the subject of the work I had been penising, I should have been utterly at a loss for an answer. I had fairly given it up as hopeless, and closed the lx)ok^ when I heard footsteps in the passage, followed by the sudden apparition of the ever-smiling Mr. Frederick Coleman, who, closing the door after him, accosted me as follows : — " What, Fairlegh, all in the downs, old fellow ?— ' never say die ! ' — come, be jolly — look at me." As he said this, I involuntarily raised my eyes to his features, and FRANK FAIRLEGH 21 cei-tainly if ever there were a face formed for banisliing blue devils by a glance, it was bis. It was a round face, not remarkable for beauty of outline, inasmuch as it bore a strong resemblance to that of the gentleman on the blue China plates, in two pigtails and a petticoat, who appears to pass a mild ornithological and botanical existence in •studying intently cei-tain fishy-looking birds, and a cannon-baU tree, which foi-m the leading featiu-es of the landscape in bis vicinity. With regard to expression, however, Coleman bad a decided advan- tage over the Chinese horticulturist, for whereas the coimtenance of the latter gentleman expresses (if indeed it can be said to express anything) only meek astonishment, Coleman's small black eyes danced and sparkled with such a spii'it of mischief and devih-y, while such a fund of meii-iment, and, as it now:for the first time sti-uck me, of good nature also, lurked about the comers of his mouth, that it seemed impossible to look at him without feeling that there was something contagious in his hilarity. " Why," said I, " everything here is so new to me, so entirely different from aU I have been accustomed to before, and the imkind —that is, the odd way in which Lawless and the rest of you seem to behave to me, treating me as if you thought I was either a fool or a baby— it all seems so strange, that I confess I am not over-happy.'' " Precious odd if you were, I think," replied Coleman ; " and it was a hon-id shame of me to hide yoiir trousers as I did this morning Oh ! how delightfully miserable you did look, as you stood shivering up in the cold ! I'm sorry for it now, but I'm such a chap for a bit of fun, that if a trick like that comes into my head, do it I must. Oh ! I get into no end of scrapes that way ! Why, it was but the other day I put a piece of cobbler's wax on the seat of Mildman's chair, and i-uined his best.Sunday-going sit-upons ; he knew, too, who did it, I'm sure, for the next day he gave me a double dose of Euclid, to take the nonsense out of me, I suppose. He had better mind what he's at, though ! I have got another dodge ready for him if he does not take care ! But I did not mean to annoy you : you behaved like a brick, too, in not saying anything about it— I am reaUy very son-y." " Never mind," said I ; " it's aU right again now ; I like a joke as well as anybody when I know it's only fun ; the thing I am afraid of now is, that Dr. Mildman may think I wanted to deceive him, by pretending to be ill, when I was not.'" " I dare say he has got a pretty good notion how it is," said Cole- man ; " but we'll get Thomas to tell him what I was up to, and that wiU set it all straight again." " That wiU be very kind indeed."' replied I ; " but will not Dr. Mildman be angi-y with you about it ? " " Not he," said Coleman, " he never finds fault unless there's real necessity for it ; he's as good a fellow as ever lived, is old Sam, only he's so precious slow."' " I am glad you like him, he seems so very kind and good-natured," 22 FRANK FAIRLEGH said I, " just the sort of person one shoiild wish one's tutor to be. But about Cumberland and Lawless ; what kind of fellows are they when you come to know them ? " " Oh, you will like Lawless well enough when he gets tired of bullying you," replied Coleman ; " though you need not stand so much of that as I was obliged to bear ; you are a good head taller than I am — let's look at your arm ; it would be all the better for a little more muscle, but that will soon improve. I'll put on the gloves with you for an hour or so every day." " Put on the gloves ! " repeated I ; " how do you mean ? — what ha& tha.t to do with Lawless ? " " Oh , you muff ! don't you understand ? — of coiu-se. I mean the boxing-gloves ; and when you know how to use your fists, if Lawless comes it too strong, slip into him.'' " He must bully a good deal before I am driven to that." replied I ; " I never struck a blow in anger in my life." " You will see before long.'" rejoined Coleman ; " but at all events^ there is no harm in learning to use your fists ; a man should always be able to defend himself if he is attacked." " Yes, that's very true," observed I ; " but you have not told me anything of Cumberland. Shall I ever like him. do you think ? " '■ Not if you are the sort of fellow I take you to be," replied he; " there is something about Cumberland not altogether right, I fancy ; I'm not very straitlaced myself, particulai-ly if there's any fun in a thing, not so much so as I should be, I suspect ; but Cuml>erland is too bad even for me ; besides, there is no fun in what he does, and then he's siich a humbug— not straightforward and honest, you know. Lawless would not be half such a bully either, if Cumberland did not set him on. But don't you say a word about this to anyone ; Cum- berland would be ready to murder me, or to get somebody else to do it for him — that's more in his way." '* Do not fear my repeating anything told me in confidence." replied I; " but what do you mean when you say there's something wrong about Cumberland ? " " Do you know what Lawless meant by the ' board of green cloth,' this morning ? " " No — it puzzled me." " I will teU you then," replied Coleman, sinking his voice almost to a whisper — " the billiard-table ! " After telling me this, Coleman, evidently fearing to commit him- self further with one of whom he knew so little, turned the conver- sation, and finding it still wanted more than an hour to dinner, proposed that we should take a stroll along the shore together. In the course of our walk, I acquired the additional information that another pupil was expected in a few days— the only son of Sir John Oaklands, a baronet of large fortune in Hertfordshire ; and that an acquaintance of Coleman's, who knew him, said he was a capital fellow, but veiy odd — though in what the oddity consisted did not ^MyTi^ ,.,^^uif^ Caa^A^y(^^: FRANK FAIRLEGH 23 appear. Moreover, Coleman confirmed me in my preconceived idea, that Mullins's genius lay at present chiefly in the eating, drinking, and sleeping line — adding that, in his opinion, he bore a striking resemblance to those somewhat dissimilar articles, a mufE and a spoon. In converse such as this, the time slipped away, till we suddenly discovered that we had only a quarter of an hour left in which to walk back to Langdale TeiTace, and prepare for dinner ; whereupon a race began, in which my longer legs gave me so decided an advantage over Coleman, that he declared he would deliver me up to the tender mercies of the " Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals," for what he was pleased to call " an aggravated case of over- driving a private pupil." We had not more than five minutes left when we arrived at Dr. Mildman's door. Coleman affording a practical illustration of the truth of the aphorism, that " it is the pace that kills " ; so that Thomas's injunction. " Look sharp, gentlemen," was scarcely necessary to induce us to rush upstairs two steps at a time. In the same hurry I entered my bedroom, without observing that the door was standing ajar rather suspiciously, for which piece of inattention I was rewarded by a deluge of water, which wetted me from head to foot, and a violent blow on the shoulder, which stretched me on the ground in the midst of a puddle. That I may not keep the reader in suspense, I will at once inform him that I was indebted for this agreeable sui-prise to the kindness and skill of Lawless, who, having returned from his pigeon-match half an hour sooner than was necessaiy, had devoted it to the construction of what he called a " booby trap," which ingenious piece of mechanism was arranged in the following manner : The victim's room-door was placed ajar, and upon the top thereof a Greek Lexicon, or any other equally ponderous volume, was carefiilly balanced, and iipon this was set in its turn a jug of water. If all these were properly adjiTsted. the catastrophe above desci'ibed was certain to ensue when the door was opened. '■ Fairly caught, by Jove ! " cried Lawless, who had been on the watch. "By Jupiter Pluvius, you should have said," joined in Coleman, helping me up again ; for so sudden and unexpected had been the shock, that I had remained for a moment just as I had fallen, with a kind of vague expectation that the roof of the house would come down upon me. " I suppose I have to thank you for that," said I, turning to Lawless. "Pray don't mention it. Pinafore," was the answer; "what little trouble I had in making the arrangement, I can assure you, was quite repaid by its success." " I'll certainly put on the gloves to-morrow," whispered I to Coleman — to which he replied by a sympathetic wink, adding, — " And now I think you had better get I'eady, more particularly as 24 FRANK FAIRLEGH you will have to find out ' hoAv to di-ess jugged hair,' as the cookery- books say." By dint of almost superhuman exertions, I did just contrive to get down in time for dinner, though my unfortunate " jugged hair," which was anything but dry, must have presented rather a singular appearance. In the course of dinner, Dr. Mildman told us that we should have the whole of the next day to ourselves, as he was obliged to go to London on business, and should not retura till the middle of the day following— an announcement which seemed to afford great satisfaction to his hearers, despite an attempt made by Cumberland to keep up appearances, by putting on a look of movu-nful resignation, which being imitated by Coleman, who, as might be expected, rather overdid the thing, failed most signally. CHAPTER IV. WHEREIN IS COMMENCED THE ADVENTURE OF THE MACINTOSH AND OTHER MATTERS. " How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, Makes ill deeds done." *' Come, tailor, let us see't ; Oh ! mercy . . . What masking stuff is here ? What's this ? a sleeve ? " " Disguise, I see ; thou art a wickedness Wherein the pregnant enemy does much." " A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse." Shakespeare. On returning to the pupils' room, Lawless commenced (to my great delight, as I thereby enjoyed a complete immunity from his some- what troublesome attentions) a full, tme, and particular accoimt of the pigeon-match, in which his friend Clayton had, with unrivalled skill, slain a suflBcient number of victims to furnish forth pies for the supply of the whole mess during the ensuing fortnight. At length, however, all was said that could be said, even upon this interesting subject, and the nan-ator, casting his eyes around in search of where- withal to amuse himself, chanced to espy my new writing-desk, a parting gift from my little sister Fanny, who, with the self-denial of tiiie affection, had saved up her pocket-money dm-ing many previous months, in order to provide funds for this munificent present. " Pinafore, is that desk yours ? " demanded Lawless. Not much admiring the sobriquet by which he chose to addi-ess me, I did not feel myself called upon to reply. FRANK FAIRLEGH 25 " Are you deaf, stupid ? don't you liear me speaking to you ? — "where did you get that wi-iting-desk ? " Still I did not answer. ' Sulky, eh P I shall have to lick him before long:. I see. Here you, ■what's your name ? Fairlegh, did your grandmother give you that wi"iting-desk ? " " No,'' replied I, " my sister Fanny gave it to me the day before I left home." " Oh, you have got a sister Fanny, have you ? how old is she, and what is she like ? " " She is just thirteen, and she has got the dearest little face in the world," answered I, earnestly, as the recollection of her bright blue eyes and sunny smile came across me. " How interesting ! " sighed Coleman ; " it qiiite makes my heai-t beat : you could not send for her, coiild you ? " " And she gave you that desk, did she ? — how very kind of her! " resumed Lawless, putting the poker in the fire. " Yes, was it not?" said I eagerly. " I would not have any harm happen to it for more than I can tell." " So I suppose," replied Lawless, still devoting himself to the poker, which was rapidly becoming red-hot. " Have you ever," continued he, " seen this new way they have of ornamenting things ? encaustic work, I think they call it : — it's done by the application of heat, you know." " I never even heard of it," said I. " Ah ! I thought not," rejoined Lawless. " Well, as I happen to understand the process, I'll condescend to enlighten your ignorance. Mullins, give me that desk." " Don't touch it," cried I, bounding forward to the rescue ; " I won't have anything done to it." My design was, however, frustrated by Cumberland and Lawless, who, both throwing themselves upon me at the same moment, succeeded, despite my stitiggles, in forcing me into a chair, where they held me, while Mu.llins, by their direction, with the aid of sundry neckcloths, braces, etc., tied me hand and foot; Coleman, who attempted to interfere in my behalf, i-eeeiving a push which sent him reeling across the room, and a hint that if he did not mind his own business he would be served in the same manner. Having thus effectually placed me ' hors de combat,' Lawless took possession of my poor writing-desk, and commenced tracing on the top thereof with the red-hot poker, what he was pleased ,to term a *' design from the antique," which consisted of a spiiited outline of that riddle-loving female the Sphinx, as she appeared when dressed in top-boots and a wide-awake, and regaling herself with a choice cigar! He was giving the finishing touch to a large pair of moustaches, with which he had embellished her countenance, and which he declared was the only thing wanting to complete the like- ness to an old aunt of Dr. Mildman's, whom the pupils usually 6 FRANK FAIRLEGH designated by the endearing appellation of " Growler," when the door opened, and Thomas announced that " Smithson " was waiting to see Mr. Lawless. " Oh yes, to be siu-e, let him come in ; no, wait a minute. Hei'e, you, Coleman and Mullins, untie Fairlegh ; be quick ! — confound that desk, how it smells of burning, and I have made my hands all black too. Well, Smithson, have you broiight the things ?" The person to whom this query was addressed was a young man attired in the extreme of the fashion, who lounged into the room with a " quite at home " kind of air, and nodding familiarly all around, arranged his curls with a ring-adomed hand, as he replied in a drawling tone, — " Ya'as, Mr. Lawless, we're all right — punctual to a moment — always ready ' to come to time,' as we say in the ring." " Who is he ? " whispered I to Coleman. " Who is he ? " replied Coleman ; " why, the best fellow in the world, to be sure. Not know Smithson, the prince of tailors, the tailor ' par excellence ' I I suppose you never heard of the Duke of Wellington, have you ? " ^ I replied humbly that I believed I had heard the name of that illustrious individual mentioned in connection with Waterloo and the Peninsula — and that I was accustomed to regard him as the first man of the age. " Ay, Avell then, Smithson is the second ; though I really don't know whether he is not quite as great in his way as Wellington, iipon my honour. The last pair of trousers he made for Lawless were something sublime, too good for this wicked world, a great deal." During this brief conversation. Smithson had been engaged in* extricating a somewhat voluminous garment from the interior of a blue bag, which a boy, who accompanied him, had just placed inside the study-door. " There, this is the new inventioii I told you about ; a man named Macintosh hit upon it. Now, with this coat on, you might stand under a waterfall without getting even damp. Try it on, Mr. Lawless ; just the thing, eh, gents ? " Our curiosity being roused by this panegyric, we gathered round Lawless to examine the garment which had called it foi'th. Such of my readers as recollect the first introduction of macintoshes, will doubtless i-emember that the earlier specimens of the race differed very materially in fomi from those which are in use at the present day. The one we wei-e now inspecting was of a whity-brown colour, and, though it had sleeves like a coat, hung in straight folds from the waist to the ankles, somewhat after the fashion of a carter's frock, having huge pockets at the side, and fastening roimd the neck with a hook and eye. " How does it do ? " asked Lawless, screwing himself round in an insane effort to look at the small of his own back, a thing a man is FRANK FAIRLEGH 27 certain to attempt wlien trying ou a coat. " It does not make a fellow look like a guy, does it ? " " No. I rather admire that sort of thing," said Cumberland. "A jolly dodge for a shower of rain, and no mistake," put in Coleman. " It is deucedly fashionable, really," said Smithson — " this one of yours, and one we made for Augustus Flareaway, Lord Fitzscamper's son, the man in the Guards, you know, are the only two oiit yet." "I have just got it at the right time, then," said Lawless; "I knew old Sam was going to town, so I settled to drive Clayton over to Woodend, in the tandem, to-moiTow. The han-iers meet there at eleven, and this will be the very thing to hide the leathers, and tops, and the green cut-away. I saw you at the match, by-the-bye.. Sffiithey, this morning." '' Ya'as, I was there : did you see the thing I was on ? " '■ A bright bay, with a star on the forehead ! a spicy-looking nag^ enough — whose is it ? " " Why, young Robarts, who came into a lot of tin the other day,, has just bought it ; Snaffles charged him ninety guineas for it." " And what is it worth ? " asked Lawless. '■ Oh ! he woidd not do a dirty thing by any gent I introduced," replied Smithson. " I took young Robai-ts there : he merely made his fair profit out of it ; he gave forty pounds for it himself to the man who bred it, only the week before, to my certain knowledge : it's a very sweet thing, and would carry him well, but he's afraid to ride it ; that's how I was on it to-day. I'm getting it steady for him." " A thing it will take you some time to accomplish, eh ? A mount like that is not to be had for nothing, every day, is it ? " " Ya'as, you're about right there, Mr. Lawless; you're down to every move, I see, as usual. Any orders to-day, gents ? your two vests will be home to-moiTow, Mr. Coleman." " Here, Smithson, wait a moment," said Cumberland, drawing him on one side ; " I was deucedly unlucky with the balls this moraiing," continued he, in a lower tone, '" can you let me have five- and-twenty poimds ? " " What you lilease, sir," replied Smithson, bowing. " On the old terms, I supi^ose ? " observed Cumberland. " All right," answered Smithson ; " stay. I can leave it with you now," added he, drawing out a leather case ; " oblige me by wi-iting your name here — thank you." So saying, he handed some bank-notes to Cumberland,, carefully replaced the paper he had received from him in his pocket-book, and withdi'ew. ■' Smithey was in gi'eat force to-night," observed Lawless, as the door closed behind him — "nicely they are bleeding that young ass Robarts among them — he has got into good hands to help him to get rid of his money, at all events. I don't believe Snaffles gave forty pounds for that bay horse ; he has got a decided curb on the off' 28 FRANK FAIRLEGH hock, if I ever saw one, and I fancy's he's a little touched in the wind, too ; and there's another thin^ I should say^" What other failing might be attributed to Mr. Robarts' bay steed, we were, however, not destined to learn, as tea was at this moment annovmced. In diie time followed evening prayers, after which we retired for the night. Being very sleepy I threw off my clothes, and jumped hastily into bed, by which act I became painfully aware of the presence of what a siirgeon would term " certain foreign bodies " — i.e. not, as might be imagined, sundry French, German, and Italian corpses, but various hard substances, totally opposed to one's pre- conceived ideas of the component parts of a feather-bed. Sleep being out of the question on a couch so constituted, I immediately com- menced an active search, in the course of which I succeeded in bringing to light two clothes-brushes, a boot-jack, a i^air of spurs, Lempriere's Classical Dictionary, and a brick-bat. Having freed myself from these undesirable bedfellows, I soon fell asleep, and passed (as it seemed to me) the whole night in dreaming that I was a j)igeon, or thereabouts, and that Smithson, mounted on the top- booted Sphinx, was inciting Lawless to shoot at me with a red-hot poker. As Coleman and I were standing at the window of the pui^ils' room, about ten o'clock on the following morning, watching the vehicle destined to convey Dr. Mildman to the coach-office. Lawless made his appearance, prepared for his expedition, Avith his himting- costume effectually concealed under the new macintosh. " Isn't Mildman gone yet ? Deuce take it, what a time he is ! I ought to be off — I'm too late already ! " " They have not even put his carpet-bag in yet," said I. " Well, I shall make a bolt, and chance it about his seeing me," •exclaimed Lawless; "he'll only think I'm going out for a walk rather earlier than usual, if he does catch a glimpse of me, so hei'e's off." Thus saying, he placed his hat upon his head, with the air of a man determined to do or die, and vanished. Fortune is currently reported to favour the brave, and so, to do her justice, she generally does ; still, at the best of times, she is but a fickle jade — at all events, she ai^peared detennined to prove herself so in the present instance; for scarcely had Lawless got a dozen paces from the house, before Dr. Mildman appeared at the front door with his great-coat and hat on, followed by Thomas bearing a carpet-bag and umbrella, and his attention being attracted by foot- steps, he turned his head and beheld Lawless. As soon as he perceived him he gave a start of surpnse, and pulling out his eyeglass (he was ratlier short-sighted), gazed long and fixedly after the retreat- ing fig^ire. At length, having apparently satisfied himself as to the identity of the person he was examining, he replaced his glass, stood for a moment as if confounded by what he had seen, and then turning abniptly, re-entered the house, and shut his study-door behind him FRANK B^AIRLEGH 29 with a bang, leaving Thomas and the fly-driver mute with astonish- ment. In about five minutes he i-e-appeared, and saying to Thomas, in a stem tone, " Let that note be given to Mr. Lawless the moment he returns," got into the fly and drove off. " There's a precious go,'' obsen'ed Coleman ; " I wonder what's in the wind now. I have not seen old Sam get up the steam like that since I have been here. He was not so angi-y when I put Thomas's hat on the peg where he hangs his own, and he, never noticing the difference, put it on, and walked to church in it, gold band and aU." " I wouldn't be Lawless for something," obser\'ed I ; '" I wonder what the note's aboiit ? " " That's just what puzzles me," said Coleman. " I should have thought he had seen the sporting togs, but that's impossible ; he must have a penetrating glance, indeed, if he could see through that maeintosh." " Lawless was too impatient,"' said Cumberland ; " he should have waited a few minutes longei% and then Mildman would have gone off without knowing anything about him. Depend upon it, the grand rale of life is to take things coolly, and wait for an opportunity ; you have the game in yom- own hands then, and can take advantage of the follies and passions of others, instead of allowing them to avail themselves of yours." ■' In plain English, cheat instead of being cheated," put in Coleman. '■ You'i-e not far wrong there, Freddy ; the world is made up of knaves and fools — those who cheat, and those who are cheated — and I, for one, have no taste for being a fool,'' said Cumberland. " Nor I," said Mullins ; '"I should not like to be a fool at all; I had rather be — " '' A buttei-fly," iuten-upted Coleman, thereby astonishing Mullins to such a degi'ee that he remained silent for some moments, with his mouth wide open as if in the act of speaking. " You cannot mean what you say ; you surely would not wish to cheat people," said I to Cumberland ; " if it were really true that one must be either a knave or a fool, I'd rather l>e a fool by fai- — I'm sure you could never be happy if you cheated anyone," continued I. " What does the Bible say about doing to others as you would have others do to you ? " '■ There, don't preach to me, you canting young prig ! " said Cumberland, angiily, and immediately left the room. " You hit him pretty hard then," whispered Coleman ; " a very bad piece of business happened just l^efore I came, about his winning a lot of tin from a young fellow here, at billiards, and they do say that CuQiberland did not play fairly. It was rather unlucky your saying it ; he will be your enemy from henceforth, depend upon it. He never forgets nor forgives a thing of that sort." ■' I meant no harm by the remark," replied I ; " I knew nothing of 30 FRANK FAIRLEGH his having cheated anyone ; however, I do not care ; I don't like him, and I'm just as well pleased he should not like me. But now, as my foreign relations seem to he rapidly assuming a warlike character (as the newspapers have it), what do you say to giving me a lesson in span-ing, as you proposed, by way of preparation ? " " With all my heart," replied Coleman. And accordingly the gloves were produced, and my initiatory lesson in the pugilistic art commenced by Coleman's first placing me in an exceedingly uncomfoi-table attitude, and then very con- siderately knocking me out of it again, thereby depositing me with much skill and science flat upon the hearthrug. This manceuvi-e he repeated with great success dming souie half -hour or so, at the end of which time I began to discover the knack with which it was done, and proceeded to demonstrate the proficiency I was making, by a well-directed blow, which being delivered with much greater force than I had intended, sent Coleman flying across the room. Chancing to encounter MuUins in the course of his transit, he ovei-turned that worthy against the table in the centre of the apartment, which, yielding to their combined weight, fell over with a grand crash, dragging them down with it, in the midst of an avalanche of books, papers, and inkstands. This ' grand coup ' brought, as might be expected, our lesson to a close for the day, Coleman declaring that such another hit would inevitably knock him into the middle of next week, if not farther, and that he really should not feel justified in allowing such a serious intei-ruption to his studies to take place. " And now, what are we going to do with ourselves ? " asked I ; " as this is a holiday, we ought to do something." , " Are you fond of riding ? " inquired Coleman. " Nothing Hike better," replied I ; " I have been used to it all my life ; I have had a pony ever since I was four years old." " I wish 1 was used to it," said Coleman. " My governor living in London, I never crossed a horse till I came here, and I'm a regular muff at it ; but I want to learn. What do you say to a ride this afternoon ? " " Just the thing," said I, " if it is not too expensive for my pocket." " Oh no," replied Coleman ; " Snaffles lets horses at as cheap a rate as anyone, and good uns to go, too : does not he, Cumberland ? " " Eh, what are you talking about ? " said Cumberland, who had just entered the room ; " Snaffles ? Oh yes, he's the man for horse-flesh. Are you going to amuse yourself by tumbling off that fat little cob of his again, Fred ? " " I was thinking of having another try," replied Coleman ; " what do you say, Fairlegh ? Never mind the tin ; I dare say you have got plenty, and can get more when that's gone." " I have got a ten-pound note." answered I ; " but that must last me all this quarter : however, we'll have our ride to-day." " I'll walk down with you," said Cumberland ; " I'm going that FRANK FAIRLEGH 31 way ; besides, it's woi-th a walk any day to see Coleman moant ; it took him ten minutes the last time I saw him, and then he threw the wrong leg over, so that he turned his face to the tail."' " Scandalum magnatum ! not a true bill," replied Coleman. " Now, come along, Faii-legh ; let's get ready, and be off." During our walk down to Snaffles' stables, Cumberland (who seemed entirely to have forgotten my ' mal a propos ' remark) talked to me in a much more amiable manner than he had yet done, and the conversation natui-ally turning upon horses and riding, a theme always interesting to me, I was induced to enter into sundry details of my own exploits in that line. We reached the livery stables just as I had concluded a somewhat egotistical relation concerning a horse which a gentleman in our neighboui'hood had bought for his invalid son, but which proving at first too spirited, I had undertaken to ride every day for a month, in order to get him quiet ; a feat I was rather proud of having satisfactorily accomplished. " Good-morning, Mr. Snaffles ; is Punch at home ? " asked Coleman of a stout red-faced man, attii'ed in a bright green Newmarket coat and top-boots. " Yes, sir. Mi-. Lawless told me yoiu* governor was gone to town, so I keiot him in, thinking perhaps you would want him." " That's all i-ight," said Coleman ; " and here's my friend, Mr. Fairlegh, will want a nag too." " Proud to serve any gent as is a friend of yoiu-s, Mr. Coleman," replied Snaffles, with a bob of his head towards me, intended as a bow. " What stamp of horse do you like, sir ? Most of my cattle are out with the han-iers to-day." " Snaffles — a word with you," inteiTupted Cumberland. " One moment, sir," said Snaffles to me. as he ci'ossed over to where Cumberland was standing. " Come and look at Punch ; and let's hear what you think of him," said Coleman, drawing me towards the stable. " What does Cumberland want with that man ? " asked I. '* What, Snaffles ? I fancy he owes a bill here, and I daresay it is something about that." " Oh, is that all ? " rejoined I. " Why, what did you think it was ? " inquired Coleman. " Never mind," I replied ; " let's look at Punch."' And accordingly I was introduced to a little fat, roiind, jolly- looking cob, about fourteen hands high, who appeared to me an equine counterpai-t of Coleman himself. After having duly praised and patted him, I tiirned to leave the stable, just as Cumberland and Snaffles were passing the door, and I caught the following words from the latter, who appeared rather excited : — " Well, if any harm comes of it, Mr. Cumberland, you'll remember it's your doing, not mine." Cumberland's reply was inaudible, and Snaffles turaed to me, saying,— 32 FRANK FAIRLKr;H '■ I've only one hoi-se at home lik>»ly to i*uit you. sir; you'll find her rather hiu'h-couruired, l>ut Mr. C'iiml>erluiul telU me you won't luiiul that." '■ I have l)een mentioninir whut a jfix)d rider you nuy you are." said Cunil)erhind. layint; a slight ouipluutid on the "fiuy." *■ Oh, I dare say she will do very well." i"eplied 1. " I suppose sh** ha.s no vice about her." *■ Oh dear no," said Snaffles, *" nothini; of the sort.— James," added he. callinir to a helj)er. " saddle the chestnut nuire. and brinj; her out dirf^ctly." The man whom he addressed, and who was a fellow with a jfiKxl- humoured, honest face, l)ecame suddenly pruve, as he replied in a deprecatory tone, — " The chestnut mare ? Mad Bess, sir !' " " Don't rei)eat my words, Imtdo as you are told." wius the answer; and the man went away looking surly. After the interval of a few minutes, a staMe door opposite wtis thrown o|)en. and Mad Bess made her ap|>eai*ance. led by two jTrooms. She was a V)ri^ht chestnut, with flowint? nuine and tiiil, al>out fifteen and a half hands hi^h. nearly thorough-bred, and as handsome as a picture ; but the restless motion of her eye disclosing; the white, the eai*s laid back at the bliijhtest sound, and a half-friirhtened. half-wild air, when anyone went up to her, told a tale as to h^r temper, al>out which no one in the least accustomed to horses could doubt for an instant. " That mare is >-icious." said I, as soon as I had looked at her. " Oh dear no, sir, quiet as a lamb, I can assure you. Sob. trirl 1 soh ! " said Snaffles, in a coaxing tone of voice, atteniptim; to pat her ; but Bess did not choose to " soh," if by " sohing " is meant, as I presume, standing still and beha^-inJ? prettily ; for on her master's approach, she snorted, attempted to rear, and ran back, giving the men at her head as much as they could do to hold her. '■ She's a little fresh to-day ; she was not out yesterday ; but it's all play, pretty creature ! nothing but play," continued Snaffles. " If you are afraid. Fairlegli, don't ride her," said Cuml)erland ; " bixt I fancied from your conversation you were a bold rider, and did not mind a little spirit in a horse : you had better take her iu again, Snaffles." " Leave her alone," cried I. quickly (for I was becoming iiritated by Cumljerland's sneers, in spite of my attempt at self-control). " I'll ride her. I'm no more afraid than other people; nor do I mind a spirited horse, Cumberiand; but that mare is moi-e than spii-ited, she's ill-tempered — look at her eye I " " Well, you bad better not ride her, then." said Cumberland. " Yes, I will," answered I, for I was now thoroughly roused, and determined to go through with the affair, at all hazards. I was always, even as a boy, of a determined, or, as ill-natiu-ed people would FRANK FAIRLEGH 33 call it, obstinate disposition, and I doubt whether I am entii-ely cured of the fault at the present time." '• Please yourself; only mind, I have warned you not to lide her if you are afraid," said Cumberland. " A nice warning," replied I, turning away—" who'll lend me a pair of spui-s ? " " I've got a pair here, sir ; if you'U step this way I'll put them on for you," said the man whom I had heard addressed as James- adding, in a lower tone, as he buckled them on, "for Heaven's sake, young gentleman, don't mount that mai-e, unless you're a first- rate rider." " Why, what's the matter with her 'i does she kick ? " inquired I. "She'll tiy and pit<;h you off, if possible, and if she can't do that, she'll bolt with you, and then the Lord have mercy upon you ! " This was encoui-aging, certainly ! " You are an honest fellow, James," replied I ; "and I am much obliged to you. Ride her I must, my honour is at stake ; but I'll be a« careful as I can, and if I come back safe you shall have half-a- crown." "Thank you, sir," was the reply ; "I shall be glad enough to see you come back in any other way than on a shutter, without the money." " Of a truth, the race of Job's comfoi-ters is not yet extinct," thought I, aa I turned to look for Coleman, who had been up to this moment employed in superintending the operation of saddling Punch, and now made his appeaj-ance, leading that renowned steed by the Vjridle. " Why, Fairlegh, you are not going to ride that vicious brute, to be sure ; even Lawless won't nioimt her, and he does not care what he rides in general." " Never mind about Lawless," said I, assuming an air of confidence I was vei-y far froui feeling ; " she won't eat me, I dare say." " I don't know that," rej(Mned Coleman, regarding Mad Bess with a look of hon-or; " Cumljerland, don't let him moimt her." " Nay, I can't prevent it ; Fairlegh is his own master, and must do as he likes," was the answer. " Come, we can't keep the men standing here the whole day," said I to Coleman ; " moimt Punch, and get out of my way as fast as you can, if you are going to do so at aU "—a request with which, seeing I was quite deteraiined. he at length unwillingly complied, and ha\'ing, after one or two failures, succeeded in throwing his leg over the cob's broad back, rode Klowly out of the yard, and took up his station out- side, in order to -witness my proceedings. " Now, then," said I, " keep her as steady as you can for a minute, and as soon as I am fairly moimted give her her head— stand clear there ! " I then took a short run, and placing one hand on the saddle, while I seized a lock of the mane with the other, I sprang from the ground D ! FRANK FAIRLEC.H md vaulted at ouce upon l»er buck, without the aid of the stirrup, a t'oat I had learned fruiu u tfi'<>om who once lived with uti. and which stood me in tfiKnl ateud on the pi-eseut occaaion. uall thereby avoided a kick with which Mad Bess ifr»?eted tny approach. I next took up the r»«ins a.s >,'cntly aa I c«>ul»l, the men let ijo hf»r head, and after a little plunw'ink' and cai>erin»r. thouk'h much h's.s than I had ex|>oc-ted. her ladyship truve up hostilities for the preti»'nt. and allowed me to ride her cpiietly up and down the yard. I then wished ('iiinl>erland (who l(X)ked, 03 I thuu^'ht. somewhat mortitied). a irood afternoon, turned a deaf ear to the euloiries of Mr. Snaffles and his satellites, and pnK-eeded to join Coleman. As I left the yard my friend James joined me under the pretence of arranirinif my stirrup leather, when he took the opportunity of .sayiuif, — "Slie'U iro pretty well now you're once mounted, sir. a* lonjf an you can hold her with theduaffle. hut if you are obliffed to use the curb- look out for s(iuallrt III" CHAPTER V. MAD BESS. " Away, away, my steed and I. U|viii the pillions of the wind ;, All huuiaii dwclliii;?^ left 1x;hiud, We aped like meteors through the sky. With glos.een able to find a purchaser. In reply to this I trave h.m a short account of what had occurred, addin- my more than suspicion that the whole matter hud been arrau-ed by bumF)erland. in which notion he entii-ely at-reed with me *' I was afraid of soniethinj? of this sort, when I said I was sorry yon had made that remark about cheating to him this morainc-you see. he would no doubt su,,i)ose you had heard the particulars "of his |r.in.bl,nir affair, and rununt to insult him by what you said, and he haa done this out of revem?e. Oh. how I wish we were safely at home aifain ; shall we turn back now :- " 'Not for the world.-' said I-" you wiU find, when you know me better, that when once I have undertaken a thintr. I will fjo tlirough with It— difficulties only make me more determined." •• Ah ! " said Coleman, "you should get somebody to write a l>ook alwut you; that is the kind of disiiosition thev always give to the heroes of novehj. the sort of character that will go and run his head ajramst a brick wall to prove that it is the harder and thicker ot the two - they knock out their brains, though, sometimes in doing It. when they happen to have any-it is very pretty to read al)out splendid in theorj-. but I much doubt its acting so weU if you come to put it in practice." " You may laugh at me if you please." replied I ; " but dei)end upon It. a man of energy and determination will undertake gi-eat deeds, ay. and i>ertorm them too. which your prudent, cautious character would have considered impossibilities." •• Perhaps it may }>e so." was the reply ; " I know I am not the sort of stuff they cut heroes out of-woa. Punch ! steady, old l>oy ; holloa, what ails him ? this is getting serious." During this convei-satiun. we had l>een gradually leaving the town behind us. and approaching the downs, and had airived at a point where the road l>ecame a mere cart-track, and the open countiy lay spread for miles l^efore u.s. Our two .steeds, which had up to the present time conducted themselves with the greatest propriety, now began to show signs of excitement, and as the fresh air from the downs blew against their nostrils, they tossed their heads, snoi-ted, and exchanged the quiet jog-trot pace at which we had been proceed- ing, for a dancine. sidelong motion, which somewhat disturbed Coleman's equanimity, and elicited from him the expressions above recorded. The road at the same time l>euoming uneven and full of ruts, we agi-eed to turn our horses' heads, and quit it for the more tempting pathway afforded by the greensward. No sooner, 'however, did Punch feel the change from the hard road to the soft elastic footing of the turf, than he proceeded to demonstrate his happiness by sUghtly elevating his heels, and popping his head down between his forelegs, thereby jerking the rein loose in Coleman's hand ; and. perceivintr that his rider (who was fuUy employed in gi-asping the 86 FRANK FAIRI.ECJH pommel of bis saddle in order to preserve his seat) made no effort to check his vivacity, he indulged his hi^rh spirits still further l»y settinjf off at a brink canter. " Piill him in," cried I, '" you'll have him run away with you ; pull at him. " Whether my advice was acted upon or not I was unable to obsei-ve, as my whole attention was demanded by Mad Bess, who appeared at lenjfth resolved to justify the pi-opriety of her appellation. Holdinjj her in by means of the snaffle alone had been quite as much as I had V)een able to accomidish during the last ten minutes, and this escapade on the part <>f Puncli brought tlie matter to a crisis. 1 must either allow her to follow him. i.e. to run away, or use the curb to prevent it. Seating myself, therefore, aa firmly as I could, and gripping the saddle tightly with my knees, I took up the curb rein, wijich till now had been hanging loosely on the mare's neck, and gnidually tightened it. This did not, for a moment, seem to produce any effect, but as soon as I drew the rein sufficiently tight to check her speed, she stopped short, and shook her head angrily. I attemijted gently to urge her on — not a step except backwards would she stir— at length, in desjiair I touched her slightly with the spur, and then "the fiend within her woke," and proceeded to make up for lost time with a vengeance. The moment the mai^ felt the spur, she reared until she stood perfectly erect, and fought the air with her forelegs. Upon this I slackened the rein, and striking her over the eai-s with my riding-whip, brought her down again ;— no sooner, however, had her forefeet touched the gi-ound than she gave two or three violent phmges which nearly succeeded in unseating me, jerked down her head so suddenly as to loosen the reins from my grasp, kicked viciously sevei^al times, and seizing the cheek of the bit between her teeth so as to render it utterly useless (evidently an old trick of hers), ^ sprang foi'ward at a wild gallop. The pace at which we weie going soon brought us alongside of Punch, who having thoroughly maetered his rider, considered it highly improper that any steed should imagine itself able to pass him, and therefore proceeded to emulate the pace of Mad Bess. Thereupon a short but vei-y spirited race ensued, the cob's pluck enabling him to keep neck and neck for a few yards ; but the mare was going at racing speed, and the length of her stride soon began to tell ; Punch, too, showed signs of having neai-ly had enough of it. I therefore shouted to Coleman, as we were leaving them : " Keep his head up-hill, and you'll be able to pull him in directly." His answer was inaudible, biit when I tiuTied my head two or three minutes afterwards I was glad to see that he had follow^ed my advice with complete success^Punch was standing still, about half a mile off, while his rider was apparently watching my course with looks of hoiTor. All anxiety on his ac^covint being thus at an end, I proceeded to take as calm a view of my ovsm situation as circumstances would alloAv, in order to decide on the best means of extricating myself therefrom. PRANK FAIRLEGH 37 We had reached the top of the first range of hills I have described, and were now tearing at a feai-fuJ rate down the descent on the opposite side. It was clear that the mare could not keep up the pace at which she was joiner for any lentjth of time : still she was in first- rate racing: conditi<)n, not an ounce of superfluous flesh about her, and. thouorh she must have gone more than two miles already, she appeared as fresh as when we started. I thei*efore cast my eyes around in search of some obstacle which might check her speed. The sIo[)e down which we were proceeding extended for about a mile before us. nfter which the LTOund again ]>egan to rise. In the valley between the two hills was a small piece of cultivated land, enclosed (as is usual in the district I am describing) within alow wall, built of flint-stones from the Ijeach. Towards this I determined to guide the mare as well as I was able, in the hope that she would refuse the leap, in wliich case I imagined I might pull her in. The pace at which we were going soon brought us near the spot, when I was glad to perceive that the wall was a more formidable obstacle than I had at first imagined. }>eing fully six feet hi/h ^^^th a ditch in front of it. I tlierefore selected a place where the ditch seemed widest, got her head up by sawing her mouth with the snaffle, and put her fairly at it. No sooner did she perceive the obstacles before her, than, slightly moderating her pace, she api>eared to collect herself, gathered her legs well imder her, and rushing forward, cleared wall, ditch, and at least seven feet of groimd beyond, with a leap like a deer, alighting safely with me on her back on the opposite side, where she continued her cour.-e beat to try and retnu-e our steps, but I Boon found that it was useless to attempt it. The mare had now become wholly unmanageable ; I could not jfuide her in the sliKhtest degree ; iind, thoutrh she was evidently ^rettinj? more and more exhausted, she still continued to ifu^lloji madly forwards, as thoujfh some deiuon had taken possession of her. and was Tir^rinj; her on to our common destruction. As we prcx-eeded down the hill, our speed increased from the force of jfravitation. till we actually seemed to fly— the wind appeared to shriek as it rushed past my ears, while from the rapidity with which we were movinjf. the >{Tound seemed to glide from >mder us, till my head i-eeled so giddily that I was afraid I should fall from the saddle. We had pnx-eeded about hailf-way down the descent, when, on passing one or two stunted bunhes which had concealed the ground beyond. I saw, oh, hoiTor of hon-ors! what api)eared to \>e the mouth of an old chalk-pit. stretching dai-k and unfathomable right across our path, about 300 yai'ds before us. The mare perceives it when too late, attempts to stop, but from the impetus with which she is going, is unable to do so. Another moment and we shall be over the brink! With the energy of desjiair. I lifted her with the rein with both hands, and drove the spurs madly into her flanks ; —she rose to the leap, there was a bound ! a sensation of flying through the air ! a crash ! and I found myself stretched in safety on the tvu-f beyond, and Mad Bess lying, panting, but uninjured, beside me. To spring upon my feet, and seize the bridle of the mare, who had also by this time recovered her footing, was the work of a moment. I then proceeded to look ai'oimd, in order to gain a more clear idea of the situation in which I was placed, in the hope of discovering the easiest method of extricating myself from it. Close behind me lay the chalk-pit. and as I gazed do^vn its rugged sides, overgi'own with ' brambles and rank weeds. I shuddered to think of the probable fate from which I had been so almost miraculously preserved, and turned away with a heartfelt expression of thanksgiving to Him who had mercifully decreed that the thread of my young life should not be snapped in so sudden iind feai-f ul a manner. Straight before me the descent became almost suddenly precipitous, but a little to the right I perceived a soi-t of sheep-track, winding downwards round the side of the hill. It was a self-evident fact that this ml^st lead somewhere, and as all places were alike to me, so that they contained any human beings who were able and willing to direct me towards Helmstone. I determined to follow it. After walking about half a mile. Mad Bess (with her ears di'ooping, and her nose nearly touching the ground) following me as quietly as a dog, I was rejoiced by the sight of curling smoke, and on turning a comer. I came suddenly upon a little village green, aro\ind which some half-dozen cottages were scattered at irregular distances. I directed my steps towards one of these, before which a crazy sign, rendered by age and exposiu'e to the weather as FRANK FAIRLEGH 39 delightfully va^jue and vminteUigible as though it had come fresh from the bnish of Turaer himself, hung pictm-esquely from the branch of an old oak. The sound of hoi-se'sfeet attracted the attention of an elderly man, ■who appeared to combine in his single person the offices of ostler, waiter, Jind boots, and who, as soon as he became aware of my necessi- ties, proceeded to fulfil the duties of these various situations with the greiitest alacrity. Fii-st (as of the most impoilance in his eyes) he rubbed down Mad Bess, ;ind administered some refreshment to her in the shape of hay and water ; then he brought uie a glass of ale. de* claring it would do me good (in which, by the way. he was not far from right). He then brushed from my coat certain stains, which I had contracted in my fall, and finally told me my way to Helmstone. I now remounted Mad Bess, who, though nuich refreshed by the hay •ind water, still continued i^ei-fectly quiet and tractable ; and setting off at a moderate trot, reached the town, after riding about eight miles, without any further adventure, in rather less than an hour. As I entered tlie street in which Snaffles' stables were situated, I perceived Coleman and Lawless standing at the entrance of the yard, evidently awaiting my airival. When I got near them, Coleman sprang eagerly foi-ward to meet me, saying, — ■' How jolly glad I aui to see you safe again, old fellow ! I was so frightened about you. How did you manage to stop her ? " " Why. Fairlegh, I had no idea you were such a rider," ex- claimed Lawless; " I made up my mind you would bi-eak your neck, and old Sam l^e minus a pupil, when I heiu'd you had gone out on that mare. You have taken the devil out of her somehow, and no mistake ; she's as quiet as a lamb," added he, patting her. " You were very near being right," replied I ; " she did her best to bi*eak my neck and her own too. I can assure you." I then proceeded to relate my adventures, to which both Lawless and Coleman listened witli great attention ; the fonuer inteiTupting me evei-y now and then with v;u-ious expressions of commendation, and when I had ended, he shook me wannly by the hand, saying, — " I give you great credit ; you behaved in a very plucky manner all through ; I didn't think you had it in you ; 'pon my word I didn't. I shall just teU Cumberland and Snaffles a bit of my mind, too. Here, Snaffles, you confounded old humbug, where are you ? " ■' Oh, don't say anything to him," said I ; " it's never woilh while being angi-y with people of that kind ; Ijesides, Cumberland made him do it." '* That does not signify ; he knew the danger to which he was ex- posing you, perhaps better than Cumberland did. He had no business to do it, and I'll make him beg yom* pardon before we leave this yard. Here, you ostler fellow, where's yom- master ? "' shouted Lawless, as he turned into the yard, where I 'soon heard the loud tones of his voice engaged in angi-y colloquy with Snaffles, whose replies were in- audible. 4<) FRANK FAIRLKC.II In ;i thort time, the lutter approached the spot wh.*r.« I wan »tan(i- inj?. and l«(rAn a very lonj? and humhie n\)olofrf. Hayinjr that he •hould never hiivo thought of tfivinif me the inuro. if he had not iteen at a >:lante that I wuh a fu-Mtnito ridor. and much more to the same pur- l>08e. when LawleHH intenMii)t«»d him with.— •• There, cut it short ; Mr, Fuirloirh does not want any more of your hlamey; and mu»d. if anything of tlie Hort occurn affain. 1 shall hire my horses somewhere else, and take care to h't all my friendH know why 1 do «o. Now. let'* l>e off; it's tjettinj? near dinner-time." So .H:iyintr. he turned to leave the yard, a movement which, as soon afl 1 iuid found my fri»»nd .lamen. ivtumed hin spun*, and (fiven him the promi.H.*d lialf-crown. I pix>ceeded to imitate; and that ended the episode of Mad Benn. CHAPTER VI. LAWLESS GETS THOROUGHLY PUT OUT. . . " Whi»t 'tis To have i» «tr«iinffr come— It nocms you knnw him not- No, sir ! not L" Soufhry. " Kither (orl)ear ... or rcimlve vou For more nmnrement ; if ^vou cnn behold it, I'll mKke the Mtntuo move uideetl." Tf'inter'i TaU. '• Since the youth will not lie entreate.1, hia own peril on his forwarduesu . . . You shall try but one fall.— J» i oh Ltk* It. On reaching home, the door was opened by Thomas, who accosted us with. — " Here's such a bit of fun. gentlemen! The new pupil's anived, and ain't he a rum un. jest ? Oh, I never ! " " Why. how do you mean ? what's be like, then ? " asked Lawless. " Oh. he's very well to look at. only he's as tall as a life-^wrdsman ; but he's siob a free and easy chap, and ain't be got a pretty good notion of making himself comfortable, too '.—that's all. But come in. gents, you'll soon see what I mean. He chucked the flyman who brought bim here balf-a-guinea, and when I asked him if be did not want the change, for the fare was only balf-a-crown, be merely said ' Poob ! ' and told me not to talk, for it tired bim." With our feelings of curiosity somewhat excited by this account, we hastened into the pupil's room, anxious to behold the indi^-idual who- bad so greatly astonished Thomas. FRANK FAIRLKGH 11 Seated in Dr. Milduuin's anu-chnir, and with his legs resting upon two other chiiira, so arranged as to form a temporary sofa, reclined a young man, apparently alx)ut eighteen, though his length of limb, and the almost herculean pro|X)rtion3 of his eliest and shonldere, seemed rather to l^elong to a more advanced age. He raised his head as we entered, disclosing a set of features which, in spite of an expression of languor and indifference, must have l)een pronounced unusually handsome. His complexion was a rich nut-brown; the high fore- head, white as snow, contrasting well with the dark hue of his hair, which, in shoi-t. clustering c»u-ls, harmonized well with thf* clas.sical outline of his head, reminding one invidunturily of the young Antinous. The short curling upper-lip. and well-chiselled nostril, told a tale of pride and resolution, strongly at variance with the mild sleepy api)earance of the large dark hazel eyes, to which the long silken lashes that shaded them imparted an almost feminine expres- sion. He did not attempt to alter his position as we approaclied, but. merely turning his head, gazed at us steadfastly for a moment, and then observed in a .slow half-absent manner,— " Oh. the other pupils, I supix)se — how do you do, all of you ? " Lawless, who was foremost, was so much surprised, and so little pleased at this nonchalant style of address, that he made no reply, but turning on his heel, proceeded to leave the room, in order to divest liimself of his hunting costimie, muttering as he went. "Cool enoturh that, by Jove, eh I " Tli»' duty of doing the |)olite having thus devolved upon Coleman, he winked at me by way of preliminary, and. making a low bow in the true dancing-master style. rei>lied as follows :— " Your i)enetration has not erred. Mr. Oaklands; we are the other pupils ; and in answer to yoxn* obliging inquiries. I have much pleasure in informing you that we are all in perfect health and veiy tolerable spirits ; and now, air. in return for your kind condescension, allow me. in the absence of my 8uj)erior8. to express a hope that you are feeling pretty comfortable— ahem I " Having thus delivered himself, Col»>man drew up his figure to its utmost height, and folding his anus with an air of pompous dignity, awaited an answer. ** Oh, yes, I'm comfortable enough," was the reply ; " I always am ; only I'm so done up, tired as a dog — the least thing fatigues me ; I'm weak as a rat I Don't they give you sofas here. Mr. What's-your- name ? " " My name is Non-al— I mean Coleman ; my father divides his time between feeding his flocks on the Grampian Hills, and fleecing his clients in Lincoln's Inn ; though I must confess that ever since I can remember, he lias dropped the shepherd, and stuck to the solicitor, finding it pays best. I suppose. Regarding the sofa, we have not one at present, but Dr. Mildman went to town this morning ; I did not till this moment know why. But now I see it all— he was doubtless aware you would an-ive to-day, and finding he could not 42 FRANK FAIRLKGII net a sufficiently comfortable sofa for you in HehnsUjne. he is jjone to London on purpose to i)rocui-e one. There is still time to write by the post, if thei-e is any jiai-ticular way in which you would like to Lave the stuffing urranired." This speech made ( )alvlands raise his head, and look Coleman BO fixedly ill the face, with such a cleiu-, earnest, penetrating' tr^i/A\ that it appeared as if lie would read his very soul. Having apparently satisfied himself, he smiled slightly, resumed his former attitude, and ■observed in the same half-sleepy tone. — •• No, I'll leave all that to him ; I am not piu-ticidai-. What time do yon dine here ':' " I replied (for the look I have described seemed to have had the wondei-ful effect of .silencing,' Coleman), " At five o'clock." ■■ Very ffood ; and I believe there's a Mrs. Mildman. or some such person, is there not? I suppose one must dress ? Will you l>e so kind as to tell the sei-vant to bring some hot water, and to look out my thinjfs for me at a quai-ter before five. I hat« to be obliged to hun-y, it tires one so." Having said this, he took up a book which was lying by his side, and mununring something about •' talking being so fatiguing,"' soon became buried in its contents. Whilst 1 was dressing for dinner, Lawless came into my room, and told me that he had been speaking to Cumberland with regard to the way in which he had behaved to me about the mare, ;ind that Cumber- land professed himself exceedingly son-y that the affair had so neai-ly turned out a serious one, declaring he meant it quite as a joke, never expecting that when I saw the m:u-e, I should venture to mount her. '■ So yo\i see," contimied Lawless, '" he merely wanted to have a good laugh at you— nothing more. It was a thoughtless thing to do, but not so bad as you had fancied it, by any means." • '• Well," replied I, " as he says so, I am bound to believe him ; but his manner certainly gave me the impression that he intended me to ride her. He went the right way to make me do so, at all events, by hinting that I was afraid." " Ah ! he could not know that by intiiition, you see," said Lawless ; " he thought, I dare say. as I did, that yoii were a mere molly-coddle, brought up at your mother's apron-string, and had not pluck enough in you to do anything sporting." " It's not worth saying anything more about," replied I ; ''it will never happen again ; I am very much obliged to you, thoiigh." " Oh, that's nothing." said Lawless ; " if Cumberland had really meant to break your neck, I shoidd have fallen out with him ; that would have been too much of a good thing : however, as it is it's all right." And so the conversation ended, though I felt far from satisfied in my own mind as to the innocence of Cumberland's intentions. On reaching the drawing-room, I found the whole pai-ty assemltled with the exception of Mr. Henry Oaklands, who had not yet made his FRANK FAIRLEGH 43 appeai'ance. At the moment of my entrance, Mrs. Mildman, who had not seen the new aiTival, and who, like the rest of her sex, was somewhat curious, was examining Coleman (who stood bolt uprigrht before her, with his hands behind him, looking like a boy saying his lesson), as to his manners and appearance. " Very tall, and dark hair and large eyes," continued Mrs. Mildman ; ** why, he must be very handsome."' " He seems as if he were half asleep," observed I. " Not always," said Coleman ; " did you see the look he gave me ? he seemed wide awake enough then ; I thought he was going to eat me." '* Dear me ! why, he must be quite a cannibal ! besides. I don't think you would be at all nice to eat, Mr. Coleman," said Mrs. Mildman, with a smile. " HoiTid, nasty, I'm sure," muttered Mullins, who was seated on the veiy edge of his chair, and looked thoroughly uncomfoi'table, as was his wont in anything like civilized society. At this moment the door opened, and Oaklands entered. If one had doubted about his height l>efore, when lying on the chairs, the question was set at rest the instant he was seen standing : he must have measured at least six feet two inches, though the extreme breadth of his chest and shoulders, and the graceful setting-on of his finely-formed liead, together with the perfect symmetry and proportion of his limbs, prevented his appearing too tall. He went through the ceremony of introduction with the greatest ease and self-possession ; and though he infused rather more courtesy into his manner towards Mrs. Mildman than he had taken the trouble to bestow on us, his Ijehaviour was still characterized by the same indolence and listlessness I had previously noticed, and which indeed seemed part and parcel of himself. Having bowed slightly to Cumberland and Lawless, he seated himself veiry leisurely on the sofa by Mrs. Mildman's side, altering one of the pillows so as to make himself thoroughly comfortaVjle as he did so. Having settled it to his satisfaction, he addressed Mrs. Mildman with, — " What a very fatiguing day this has been ; haven't you foimd it 80?" " No, I can't say I have,'' was the reply ; " I dare say it was wai-m travelling : I'm afraid, in that case. Dr. Mildman will not have a veiy pleasant journey — he's gone to toAvn to-day."' " Ah, so that short, stout, young gentleman " (the first two adjectives he pronounced very slowly and distinctly) " told me." "Mr. Coleman," insinuated Mrs. Mildman. " Pleasant that," whispered Coleman to me. " Take cai-e,"' replied I, " he will hear you." " I'm afraid," continued Oaklands, " the old gentleman wiU be qiiite knocked up. I wonder he does not make two days' journey of it." " Dr. Mildman is not so vei*y old,"' observed Mrs. Mildman, in rather an annoyed tone of voice. 44 FRANK FAIRLEHH " I really heg pardon, I scarcely know why I said it." replied Oaklands, " only I somehow fancied all tutors were Ijetween sixty and seventy — very absurd of me ! My father sent all kind of civil messai^es to the o— to Dr. Mildman, only it is so much trouble to remember that sort of thinj?." At this point the conversation was internipted by the announce- ment of dinner. Oaklands (from whom I could not withdraw my eyes, so unlike anythinjj I had ever met with before was he) was evidently preparing? to hand Mrs. Mildman down to dinner, as soon as he could summon sufficient enerj^y to move, but perceiving- Cumberland apju-oacli her for that purpose, he appeared to recollect himself, smiled sli^'htly, as if at what he had been alx>ut to do, and takinsr me by the arm. said, — " Come. Master Curlylocks, you shall l>e my lady, and a very i)i-etty ffirl you would uuike, too, if you were properly be-muslined ; " adding;, as we went downstairs together, " You and I shall l)e ffi'eat friends, I'm sure ; I like your face particularly. What a lot of stairs there are in this house I they'll tire me to death." When we retm-ned to the pujjils' room after dinner. Lawless found, lyinp on the table, the note Dr. Mildman had written in such a mysterious manner before he left home in the mominp, and proceeded to open it forthwith. Scarcely had he jflanced his eye over it. when he was seized with so violent a fit of laughter, that I expected every moment to see him fall out of his chair. As soon as he had in some measiu'e recovered the power of speaking, he exclaimed, — " Here, listen to this ! and tell me if it is not the very l>est thing you ever heard in your lives." He then read as follows :— " It is not without much pain that I bi-ing myself to wi-ite this note ; but I feel that I shoidd not be doing my duty towards your excellent father, if I were to allow such extreme misconduct on the part of his son to pass unreproved. I know not towards what scene of vulsrar dissipation you might be directing your steps, but the simple fact (to which I was myself witness) of yoxu' leaving my house in the low disguise of a carter's smock-frock affords in itself sufficient proof that your associates must belong to a class of persons utterly unfitted for the companionship of a gentleman. Let me hope this hint may be enough, and that conduct so thoroughly disgraceful in one brought up as you have been, may not occui- again. I presume I need scarcely say that, in the event of your disregarding my wishes upon this point, the only course left open to me would be to expel you, a measure to which it would deeply grieve me to be obliged to resort." His voice was here drowned by a choinis of laughter from all present who were aware of the true state of the case, which lasted without interruption for several minutes. At length Lawless observed, — FRANK FAIRLEGH 45 "I'll tell you -what, it will be a death-blow to Smitbson; a niacintosb made by him to be taken for a smock-frock ! he'll never recover it." ■* Mildinan might well look like a thunder-cloud," said Coleman, " if that was the notion he had got in his head ; what a jolly lark, to be sure ! " " How do you mean to undeceive him ? " inquired Cumberland. " Oh, tiiist me for finding away to do that," replied Lawless ; " ' the low disguise of a carter's smock-frock," indeed ! What fun it would be if he were to meet my governor in town to-day, and tell him of my evil courses! why, the old boy would go into fits I 1 wonder what he means by his 'scenes of vulgar dissipation'? I dare say he fancies me playing all-fours with a beery coal-heaver, and kissing his «ooty-faced wife ; or drinking alternate goes of gin-and-water with a dustman, for the purpose of insinuating myself into the affections of Miss Cinderella Smut, his interesting sister. By Jove ! it's as good as a play I " More laughter followed Lawless's illustration of Dr. Mildman's note. The subject was discussed for some time, and a plan aiTanged for enlightening the Doctor as to the true character of the mysterious garment. At length there was a pause, when I heard Coleman whisper to Lawless, — " Thomas was pretty right in saying that new fellow knows how to make himself comfoi'table, at all events." " He's a precious deal too free and easy to please me," muttered Lawless, in an undertone; "I shall take the liberty of seeing whether his self-possession cannot be distuibed a little. I have no notion of such airs. Here, Mullius ! " And laying hold of MuUins by the arm, he pulled him into a chair by his side and proceeded to give him some instnictions in a whisper. The subject of their remarks, Han-y Oaklands, who had, on re- entei-ing the room, taken possession of the three chairs near the window, was still reclining, book in hand, in the same indolent position, apparently enjoying the beauty of the autumnal sunset, without concerning himself in the slightest degi'ee about anything which might be going on inside the room. Lawless, whose proceedings I was watching with an anxious eye, having evidently succeeded, by a judicious mixture of bullying and cajolei-y, in persuading MuUins to assist him in whatever he was about to attempt, now di-ew a chair to the other side of the window, and seated himself exactly opposite to Oaklands. *' How tired riding makes a fellow ! I declare I'm regularly baked, used completely up," he observed, and then continued, glancing at Oaklands, " Not such a bad idea, that. Mullins, give us a chair ; I don't see why elevating the extremities should not pay in my case, as •well as in other people's." He then placed his legs across the chair which Mullins brought 46 FRAXK FAIR LEG H hill), und foldinsr his arms so aa exactly to imitate the attitude of his opposite neiifh)x)ur, sat for some minute.s eiv/'me out of the window with a countenance of mock solemnity. Findinif this did not produce any effect on Oakhiuds, who havinsj slitrhtly raised his eyes when Lawless first seated himself, immediately cast them upon the })ook aprain. Lawless stretched himself, yawned, and once more addressed MuUins. ** Shocking bad sunset as ever I saw— it's no go starinBr at that. I must have a book— give me the Byron." To this MuUins rei)lied " that ho l>elieved Mr. Oaklands was read- ing it." " Indeed ! the Ix^ok belongs to you. does it not ? " MuUins replied in the affirmative. " Have you any objection to lend it to me?" MuUins would l)e most happy to do so. " Then ask the gentleman to give it to you— you have a right to do what you please with your own projjerty, I imairine ? " It was veiT' evident that this suggestion was not exactly agreeable to MuUins ; and although his habitual fear of Lawless was so strong as completely to overpower any dread of what might be the possible consequences of his act. it was not without much hesitation that he approached Oaklands and asked him for the l>ook. " as he wished to lend it to Lawless." On hearing this, Oaklands leisurely turned to the fly-leaf, and having apparently satisfied himself, by the penisal of the name written thei-eon, that it really belonged to MuUins. handed it to him without a word. I fancied, however, from the stem expression of his mouth, and a slight contraction of the brow, that he was not as insensible to their impertinence as he wished to appear. Lawless, who had been sitting during this little scene with his eyes closed, as if asleep, now roused himself, and saying. " Oh, you have got it at last, have you ? " began turning over the pages, reading aloud a line or two here and there, v.hile he kept up a running commentary on the text as he did so, — "Hum! ha! now lefs see, here we are — the ' g-i-a-o-u-r," — that's a nice word to talk about. What does g-i-a-o-tt-k spell, MuUins ? Tou don't know ? what an ass you are, to be sure ! — ' Fair clime, whose every season smiles Benignant o'er those blessed isles ' — blessed isles, indeed ; what stuff I— ' 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more ' — that would do for a motto for the barbers to stick on their pots of bears' gi-easel — ' Clime of the unforgotten brave ; ' unforgotten ! yes, I should think so ; how the deuce should they be forgotten, when one is bored with them morning, noon, and night, FRANK FAIRLEGH 47 for everlastinsr, by old Sam. and all the other pastors and masters in the kingdom 't Hanisr me. if I can read this trash ; the only poetrj' that ever was written worth readinjf is " Don Juan.' " He then flung the book down, addiny. — " It's confoundedly cold. I think. Mullins. shut tliat window." This order involved more difficulties in its execution than misrht a first be imagined. Oaklands. after giving up the book, had slightly altered his position by drawing nearer the window and leaning his elbow on the sill, so that it was impossible to shut it without obliging him to move. Mullins saw this, and seemed for a moment inclined not to obey, but a look and a threatening gesture from Lawless again decided him ; and with slow imwilling steps he approached the win- dow, and laid his hand on it. for the purpose of shutting it. As he did so, Oaklands raised his head, and regarded him for a moment with a glance like lightning, his large eyes glaring in the twilight like those of some wild animal, while the red flush of anger rose to his brow, and we all expected to see him strike Mullins to the ground. Conquering himself, however, by a )jowerful effort of self-control, he folded his arms, and turning from the window, suffered Midlins to close it without inteniiption. Still I could perceive, from the distended nostril and quivering lip. that his forbearance was almost exhausted. ■■ Ah, that's an improvement," said Lawless ; " I was getting \\n- commonly chilly. By the way, what an intei-esting virtue patience is I it is a curious fact in Natural Histoiy that some of the lower animals share it with us ; for instance, there's nothing so patient as a jack-ass — " '■ Except a pig." put in Mullins ; " they're uncommon — " " Obstinate," suggested Coleman. " Oh, ah ; it's obstinate I mean." replied Mullins. " Well, you know- donkeys are obstinate, like a pig ; that's what I meant." " Don't be a fool 1 " said Lawless. '" Deuce take these chairs ; I cannot make myself comfortable anyhow — the fact is, I must have thi-ee, that's the proper number — give me another. Mullins." " I can't find one," was the answer; " they are all in use." " Can't fi.nd one ! nonsense," said Lawless ; " here, take one of these ; the gentleman is asleep, and won't object. I dare say." When Mullins was shutting the window, his head had been so tiuTied as to prevent his observing the sjTiiptoms of anger in Oaklands, which had convinced me that he would not bear ti-ifling with much longer. Presuming therefore, from the success of his former attacks, that the new puiiil was a person who might be insulted with impunity^ and actuated by that general desire of retaliation, which is the certain effect bullying produces upon a mean disposition, Mullins proceeded, con amore, to fulfil Lawless's injunction. With a sudden snatch, he withdrew the centre chair, on which Oaklands' legs mainly rested, so violently as nearly to throw them to the gi-ound, a catastrophe which was finally consummated by Lawless giving the other chair a push -48 FRANK FAIRLECJII with his foot, so that it wiuj only l>y (freut exertion and quickness iliat OalilandH wus able to uave hiiiiHelf from falliu^f. This wa« the climax ; forbearance merely human could endure no lon^rer: Lawless had obtained his object of disturbinK Harry Oak- lands' self-iKJSsessiou, and was now to learn the consequences of his success. With a bound like that of an infuriated ti>f»'r, Oaklanda leai>ed upon his feet, and da^ihin^' Mullins int<» a comer with such force that he remained lyiuj; exactly where he fell, he spninjr ujion Law. less, seized him by the collai* of his coat, and after a shoil but severe 8truKJ?le, di-a^»s'ed him to the window, which was about eiRht feet from the j^Tound, threw it open, and takings' him in his arms with iis much ease as if he had l»een a child, tluni? him out. He then returned to the comer in which, paralyzed with fear. Mullins was still crouch- injj, drew him to the spot froni whence he had removed the chair, placed him there upon his hands and knees, and saying in a stem voice, " If you dare to move till I tell you, I'll throw you out of the window too," (juietly resumed his former (>o8ition, with his legs rest- ing npon Mullins' buck instead of a chair. As soon as Colemiin and 1 had in some degi"ee i^ecovered from our surprise and ccmsternation (for the anirer of Oak lands, once roused, was a fearful thin^' to behold), we ran to the other window, just in time to see Lawless, who had alighted among some stunted shrubs, turn round and shake his fists at Oaklands (who merely smiled), ere he regained his feet, and rang the bell in order to gain admittance. A minute afterwards we heard him stride upstairs, enter his bed- room, and close the door with a moat sonorous bang. Affairs remained in this position neiu-ly a quai-ter of a hour, no one feeling inclined to be the first to speak. At length the silence was broken by Oaklands, who, addressing himself to Cumberland, said. — " I am afraid this absm'd piece of business has completely man*«d the harmony of the evening. Get up, Mr. Mullins," he continued, removing his legs, and assisting him to rise ; " I hope I did not hurt yon just now." In reply to this, Mullins gmmbled out something intended as a negative, and shambling across the room, placed himself in a comer, as far as possible from Oaklands, where he sat iiibbing his knees, the very image of sulkiness and terror. Cumberland, who appeared during the whole course of the affair absorbed in a book, though, in fact, not a single word or look had escaped him, now came forwai'd and apologized, in a quiet, gentlemanly manner (which, when he was inclined, no one could assume with gi-eater success), for Lawless's impei-tineuce, which had only, he said, met with its proper rewai'd. " You must excuse me, Mi\ Cumberland, if I cannot agree with you," replied Oaklands ; " since I have had time to cool a little, I see the matter in quite a different light. Mr. Lawless was perfectly right ; the carelessness of my manner must naturally have seemed as if I were pvu-posely giving myself aii's, but I can assure you such was not the case." -1,..,^. -...'A -'-^-l.-JCv FRANK FAIRLEGH 49 He paused for a moment, and then continued, with a half- embarrassed smile, — " The fact is, I am afraid that I have been spoiled at home ; my mother died when I was a little child, and my dear father, bavins' nobody else to care about, thought, I ])elieve, that there was no one in the world equal to me. and that nothing was too good for me. Of course, all our senants and people have taken their tone from him, so that I have never had anyone to say to me, 'Nay,' and am therefore not at all used to the sort of thing. I hope I do not often lose my temper as I have done this evening; but really Mr. Lawless appears quite an adept in the art of ingeniously tormenting." " I am afraid you must have found so much exertion very fatiguing," observed Coleman, politely. " A fair hit, Mr. Coleman," replied Oaklands, laughing. " No I those are not the things that tire me, somehow ; but in general I am very easily kn(x:ked up — I am indeed — most things are so much trouble, and I hate trouble ; I suppose it is that I am not strong." '■ Wretchedly weak, I should say," rejoined Coleman ; " it struck me that you were so just now, when you chucked Lawless out of the window like a cat." " Be quiet, Freddy," said Cumberland, reprovingly. " Nay, don't stop him," said Oaklands ; " I delight in a joke beyond measure, when I have not the trouble of making it myself. But about this Mr. Lawless, I am exceedingly sorry that I handled him so roughly ; would you mind going to tell him so, Mr. Cumberland, and exi)lHiniug that I did not mean anything offensive by my manner ? " " Exactly, I'll make him understand the whole affair, and bring him down with me in five minutes," said Cumberland, leaving the room as he spoke. " What makes Cumberland so good-natured and amiable to- night ? " whispered I to Coleman. " Can't you tell ? " was the reply. '" Don't you see that Oaklands is a regular top-sa\\Trer, a fish worth catching ; and that by doing this Cumberland places him under an oh)ligation at first starting ? Not a bad move to begin with, eh ? Besides, if a regular quarrel between Lawless and Oaklands wei-e to ensue. Cumberland would have to take one side or the other ; and it would not exactly suit him to break with Lawless, he knows too much alx)ut him; besides," added he, sinking his voice, " he owes him money, more than I should like to owe anybody a precious deal, I can tell you. Now do you twig? " '• Yes," said I, " I comprehend the matter more clearly, if that is what you mean by twigging ; but how shocking it all is ! why, Cum- berland is quite a swindler — gambling, borrowing money he can't pay, and — " " Hush I " interrupted Coleman. " here they come." Coleman was not mistaken : Cumberland had been successful in his embassy, and now entered the room, accompanied by Lawless 50 FRANK FAIRLEGH who looked i-ather crestfiillen. somewhat antfry, and jarticularly embarrassed and iincomfortah»le, which, a^ Coleman whispered to me, was not to Ije wondered at, considering how thoroughly he had been put out just Ijefore. Oaklands, however, appeared to see nothing of all this; but, rising from his seat as they entered, he approached Lawless, sayinf^, — " This has been a foolish piece of business. Mr. Lawless ; I freely own that I am thoroughly ashamed of the part I have taken in it, and I can only apologize for the intemperate manner in which I behaved." The frank courtesy with which he said this was so irresistible that Lawless was completely overcome, and. probably for the first time in his life, felt him.self thoroughly in the wrong. Seizing Oaklands' hand, therefore, and shaking it heartily, he replied.— " I'll tell you what it is, Oaklands- we don't ' Mr.' each other here — you are a right good fellow — a regular brick, and no mistake ; and as to your shoving me out of the window, you served me quite right for my abominable impertinence. I only wonder yon did not do it ten minutes sooner, that's all ; but you really ought to l>e careful what you do with those amis of yours ; I was like a child in your grjisp ; you are as strong as a steam-engine." " I can assure you I am not." rej)lied Oaklands ; " they never let me do anything at home, for fear I should knock myself up." " You are more likely to knock other people dovN-n, I should say," rejoined Lawless ; " and, by the way, that reminds me— Mullins ! come here, stupid, and beg Mr. Oaklands' pardon, and thank him for knocking you down." A sulky, half-muttered " Shan't " was the only reply. " Nay, I don't want anything of that kind ; I don't, indeed, Lawless ; pray leave him alone," cried Oaklands, eagerly . Biit Lawless was not so easily quieted, and Oaklands, unwilling to risk the harmony so newly established between them, did not choose to interfere further ; so Mullins was dragged across the room by the* eai"8, and was forced by Lawless, who stood over him Avith the poker (which, he infonned him. he was destined to eat red-hot if he became restive), to make Oaklands a long and formal apology, with a short form of thanksgiving appended, for the kindness and condescension he had evinced in knocking liim down so nicely, of which oration he delivered himself with a very bad gi-ace indeed. " And all went men-y as a maiTiage-bell," until we were summoned to the drawing-room, where we were regaled with weak tea, thin bread and butter, and small conversation till ten o'clock, when Mrs. Mildman proceeded to read prayers, which, being a duty she was little accustomed to, and which consequently rendered her extremely nervous, she did not accomplish without having twice called King William, George, and suppressed oiu* gracious Queen Adelaide altogether. PRANK FAIRLEGH 51 CHAPTER VII. THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH. " What have we here — a man or a fish ? " The Tempe$t, ' The devil he baited a trap, With billiar.i bulls and a cue ; And he chose at> marker, An imp much darker Than all the rest in hue. And he put on hia tjunuay clothes. And he played with saint and with siimer, For he'd found out a way To make the thing jMvy. And when losing, he ttill wat the icinner! " Old Legend. The moment Dr. Mildman an-ived at home the next day, Lawless watched him into liis study, and, as soon as he was safely lodged therein, proceeded, by the aid of sundry nails and loops previously placed there for the pui-pose, to hang his macintosh right across the passage, so that no one could leave the study without iimning against it. He then ambushed himself near the open door of the pupils' room, where, imseen himself, he could observe the effect of his aiTangements. Coleman and I, also taking a lively interest in the event, ensconced ourselves in a favourable position for seeing and hearing. After waiting till our stock of patience was nearly exhausted, we were rewarded by hearing the study door slowly open, foUowed by the tread of a well-known footstep in the passage. The next sound that reached our ears was a quick shuffling of feet upon the oil-cloth, as if the person advancing had " shyed " at some unexpected object ; then came the muttered exclamation, " Bless my heart, what's this P " And immediately afterwards Dr. Mildman's face, wearing an expression of the most thorough perplexity and bewilderment, appeared cautiously peeping from behind the macin- tosh. Having apparently satisfied himself that no enemy was concealed there, and he had nothing further to fear, but that the whole plot was centred as it were in the mysteiious gai-ment before him, he set himself seriously to work to examine it. First he pulled out his eyeglass and, stepping back a pace or two, took a general sm-vey of the whole ; he then approached it again, and taking hold of it in different places with his hand, examined it in detail so closely that it seemed as if he were ti-ying to coimt the number of threads. Being apparently unwilling in so difficult an investigation to trust to the evidence of any one sense, he replaced his eyeglass in his waist- coat pocket, and began rubbing a portion of the skirt' between his hands ; the sense of touch failing, however, to thi-ow any new light upon the subject, as a sort of forlorn hope, he applied his nose to it. 52 FRANK FAIRLKiai The rcmilt of this wiw an inilfMoriliulilo oxrlamation, expr«j»iiire of intense dii*tfu»*t. followed immeiliut^ly \tj a violent MDoeze; then came a lonK paune, um thout;h ho were considerinir of what ponsihle tine hik-Ii a ffarnient could l>e. At lenffth a ray of lijjht seeiued to break in upon the darkness, and once more layintr handn on the macintosh, he piY)ceeded, after unhixjkini; it from the nail» on which it hunt;, slowly and delit»erately to put it on, with the l>ack part foremoHt. somewhat aftpr the fa.shion of a child's pinafor»». Havini? at lensftli accoujpliahod this difficult oj)eratiun, he walked, or rather »huffled (for his i)etticoats interfered >ri-eatly with the free use of his liinhsK up and down the hall with a (rrave, not to say solemn, expression of oount*>nance. Api)earinif i>erfectly satisfied after one or two turns that he had at last solved the enijrma. he divested himself of the per|)lexin>f >fannent, hnng it on a jx^tf appropriated to trreat-coata. and approached the door of the pupils' room. By tlie time he entered. Lawless was seated at his desk studying Herodotus, while Coleman and I were d»v»ply immersed in our respective Euclids. After shakiui; hands with Oaklands, and addressing; some tfood- natured remarks to each of us in turn, he went u|) to Lawless, and, laying; his hand kindly on his shoulder, said, with a half-smile, — " I am afraid I have made i-ather an ahaurd mistake al>out that strange j^arment of youi-s. Lawless ; I suppose it is some new kind of jfi-eat-coat, is it not ? " " Yes, sir, it is a sort of watenn-oof cloth, made witti Indian nihber." "Indian rub])er, is it? Well. I fancied so; it has not the nicest smell in the world. I certainly thoujfht it was a smock-frock. thon>;h. when I saw you cro out in it. Is not it rather awkward to walk in ? I found it so when I tried it on just now, and buttoninsj l)ehind does not seem to me at all a good plan." '* No sir, but it is meant to Initton in front; perhaps you put it on the back part foremost." " Hem ! " said Dr. Mildman. trying to look as if he tliousjht such a thing impossible, and failing — " it is a very singular article of dress altogether, but I am glad it was not a smock-frock you went out in. I hope," continued he, turning to Oaklands. with an evident wish to change the conversation — " 1 hope they took good care of you when you an-ived last night ? " This was turaing the tables with a vengeance ! Lawless became suddenly immersed in Herodotus again. " Oh. the gi-eatest," was the reply ; " I had so much attention paid me that I was almost upset by it. I was not quite ovei'come thoiigh," he continued, with a sly glance towards Lawless, '" and Mrs. Mildman gave us some veiy nice tea, which soon restored me." '■ Well. I'm glad they managed to make you comfortable among them," observed Dr. Mildman. tuniing over his papers and books preparatory to beginning the morning's study. FRANK FAIRLEGH 53 " Hadn't you better ask him when he expects the sofa will be down ? " supg^ested Coleman to Oaklands, in a whisper. " No, you jackanai^es," was the reply ; " and don't you make me laugh when that old gentleman is in the room, for there's nothing more fatiguing than the attempt to smother a laugh." Coleman's only answer to this, if Jinswer it could be called, was a grimace, which had the desired effect of throwing Oaklands into a fit of laughter, which he found it very hard labour indeed to stifle ; nor had his countenance quite recovered from the effects of his exertions, when he was summoned to the Doctor's table to undergo an examination similar to that which had api>eared so formidable to me a few days before; and thus terminated the notable adventure of the carter's frock, though I obsers-ed that after a week or two had elapsed, the macintosh was handed over to Thomas, and Smithson was called upon to tax his inventive powers to furnish Lawless with a less questionaVjly-shaped garment of the same material. A few days after this, as I was walking with Coleman, he suddenly exclaimed, — " Well, of all the antediluvian affairs I ever beheld, the old fellow now coming towards us is the queerest ; he looks like a fossil edition of Methuselah, dug up and modeniized some hundred years ago at the very least. Holloa I he's going mad, I believe ; 1 hope he does not bite." The subject of these somewhat uncomplimentary remarks was a little old gentleman in a broad-brimmed white hat, turned up with green, and a Vjlack cloth spencer (an article much like a boy's jacket exaggerated), from beneath which protnxded the vei-y broad tails of a blue coat, with rather more than their projjer complement of bright bi-ass buttons, while drab gaiters and shorts completed the costume. The moment, however, I beheld the countenance of the individual in question, I i*ecognized the never-to-be-mistaken mole at the tip of the nose of my late coach compiinion to London. The recognition seemed mutual, for no sooner did he perceive me than he stopped short, and pointed straight at me with a stout silver-mounted bamboo which he held in his hand, uttering a sonorous " Umph ! " as he did so ; to which somewhat unusual mode of salutation may be attributed Coleman's doubts as to his sanity. " Who'd ever have thought of meeting you at Helmstone, I should like to know ? " exclaimed he in a tone of astonishment. " I was going to say the same thing to you, sir," replied I : " I came down here the very day on which we travelled together." " Umph ! I came the next ; well, and what are you doing now you are here ? Schoolmaster lives here, I suppose — tutor, you call him, though, don't you ? " I infonaed him of my tutor's name and residence, when he continued, — " Umph ! I know him ; very good man, too good to be plagued by 54 FRANK FAIRLEUH a set of tiroaome ^wja-men. thou«b. you call youi-«elve«, don't youP Uniph 1 I« he a man too i* " be inquired, pointing to Coleman. " I've l»een a uuui these seventeen yeara, eir," replied Coleman. *' Uuipb, u man seventeen years a«fo! a haby. more likely, what does he mean ? what does be mean ?" I explained that ho probably intended a piin upon his name, which was Coleman. " A pun, umph ! Ho makes puns, does be? funny Iniy. fimny Ixjy. I dare say. How does the doctor like tluit. thoujfh ? Make puu.s to him. he'd punish you. umph? Stupid thinffs. puns— made one myself then, though- just like me ! Well. »rive the doctor my com- pliments—Mr. Fr.iiiipton's -I live at No. lu. Castle Strwt— he knows me ; and ask him to lot you come and dine with me ne.xt week ; brinjf funny boy tx>. if he likes to come; " and away he posted, mutterinsr. "Umph! pla>fuinK myself about a pack of lH>yd. when I uiij^ht be quiet — just like me ! " We did not fail to delivor Mr. Framptou's measa^re to Dr. Mild- man on our i-etuni home, who %villintrly Kave us the required permission. 8ayiu>r that he knew but little of the old crentleman personally, thoutrh he had resided for several yeai-s at Helmstone. but that he was univoi-sally rea{)ected, in spite of his eccentricities, and was repoi-ted to have si»ent irreat part of his life abroad. The next time I met my new friend, he repeated his invitation to Coleman and myself, and, on the day appointed, ffave us an excellent dinner, with ([uite as much wine as we knew what to do with ; amused and interested us with sundiy well-told anecdotes of adventures he had met with during his residence in forei^ lands, and dismissed us at nine o'clock with a tip of a guinea each, and ;m injunction to come and see him asrain whenever we pleased. For many succeeding weeks nothing of any pai-ticular moment occurred to intemipt the even tenor of the new course of life I had entered upon. The likins? which Oaklunds seemed to have taken to me at first sisrht soon ripened into a wann friendship, which continued daily to increase on my part, as the many noble and lovable qualities of his disposition appeared, one by one, from Ijehind the veil of indolence which, till one knew him well, eifectually concealed them. Coleman, thouprh too volatile to make a real friend of. was a very agreeable companion, and. if it were ever po3sil)le to get hiui to be serious for a minute, showed that beneath the frivolity of his manner lay a basis of clear good sense and right feeling, which only required calling forth to render him a much higher character than he appeared at present. For the rest, I was alternately bullied and patronized by Lawless (though he never ventured on the former line of conduct when Oaklands was present), while Cumberland, out- wardly professing gi-eat regard for me. never let slip an opportunity of showing me an ill-natured tuni, when he could contrive to do so without committing himself openly. FRANK FAIRLEGH 55 A more intimate acquaintance with MuUins only served to place beyond a doubt the fact of his being a most vmmitigated, and not over-amiable, fool. The word is a strong one, but I fear that, if I were to use a milder term, it would be at the expense of truth. For my tutor I soon began to conceive the warmest feelings of regard and esteem ; in fact, it was impossible to know him well, and not to love him. Simple as a child in everything relating to worldly matters, he imited the deepest learning to the most elevated piety, while the thoroughly practical chai-acter of his religion, carried, as it was, into all the minor details of evei-yday life, imparted a gentleness and benignity to his manner which seemed to elevate him above the level of ordinai-y mortals. If he had a fault (I supi>ose, mei-ely for the sake of proving him human. I must allow him one), it was a want of moral courage, which made it so disagreeable to him to find fault with any of us. that he would now and then allow evils to exist which a little more firmness and decision might have pi-evented ; but had it not l>een for this, he would have been quite perfect, and perfection is a thing not to 1^ met with in this life. Cuml)erland. after the eventful evening on which he acted as peacemaker between Lawless and Oaklands, had persevered steadily in his endeavour to ingratiate himself with the latter; and, by taking advantage of his weak i)oint, his indolence and dislike of trouble, had at length succ-eeded in making Oaklands 1>elieve him essential to his comfort. Thus, though there was not the smallest sympathy lietween them, a sort of alliance was established, which gave Cumljerland exactly the opportunities he required for putting into execution cei-tain schemes which he had formed. Of what these schemes consisted, and how far they succeeded, will appear in the course of this veracious history. The winter months, after favouring us with rather more than oui- due allowance of frost and snow, had at length passed away, and March, having come in like a lion, appeared determined, after the fashion of Bottom the weaver, " to roar that it would do any man's heart good to hear him." and to kick up a thorough dust ere he would condescend to go out like a lamb, alljeit, in the latter state, he might have made a shilling i^er pound of himself at any market, had he felt suicidally inclined. " This will never do," said Oaklands to me, as, for the third time, we were obliged to tiun round and cover our eyes, to avoid being blinded by the cloud of dust which a strong east wind was driving directly in our faces ; "there is nothing in the woi'ld tires one like walking against a high wind. A quarter to three," added he, taking out his watch. " I have an appointment at three o'clock. Will you walk with me ? I must turn up here." I assented ; and, turning a comer, we proceeded up a narrow street, where the houses, in a great measure, protected us from the wind. After walking some little distance in silence, Oaklands again addi'essed me, — M FRANK FAlKLKCiH " Frank, did yon ever jtlay ut billiurds h " I rf|)lied in the netfative. " It'rt a KHme I've rather a likin^r for," continued he ; " we have a tal'le at Heatlifield, and my father and I often played when the weather wa« too bad to fret out. I used to l^eat the old >rentleman eauily thou^'h at lii«t, till 1 found out one day he did not half like it, BO then I wiuj oblij^ed to make uhiK'kin^ iniHtakes, every now and then, to K've him a chance of winning; anybody else wmild have found me out in a minute, for I am the worst hand in the world at j.layinff the hy{K)crite. but my father is the most unsuHpiciouH creature broathin^. Oh, he is such a dear old man 1 You must cc»me and stay with us, Frank, and learn to know him and love him— he'd delight in you — you are just the sort of fellow he likes. " "There's nothing I should like better," answered I, " if I can get leave from headquarters ; but why did you want to know if I played at billiards ? " " Oh, 1 have l>een playing a >?ood deal lately with Cuml»erland, who seems very fond of the K'iin»e. ^"id I'm KoinK to meet him at the rooms in F Street to-day ; so I tliouKht, il you knew anything of the frame, you mi^rht like to come with me." " Cuml-erlund is a first-nite player, isn't be P " asked I. *' No, I do not think ho : we play very evenly, I should say; but we are to have a reRiihiJ" nuitch to-day, to decide which is the best jilayer." " Do you play for money ? " "Just a trifle to give an interest to the game, nothing more," replied Oaklands ; " our match to-day is for a five-i)Ound note." I must confess that I could not help feeling extremely uneasy at the information Oaklands had just given me. The recollection of what Coleman had said concerning some gaming affair in which CumWrland was supposed to have >>ehaved dishonourably, combined with a sort of general notion, which seemed to prevail, that he was not exactly a safe pei-son to have much to do with, might in some degree account for this ; still, I always felt a kind of distinctive dislike and mistrust of Cumberland, which led me to avoid him as much as possible on my own account. In the present instance, when the danger seemed to threaten my friend, this feeling assumed a vague chai-acter of fear; "and yet," reasoned I with myself, "what is there to di-ead ? Oaklands has plenty of money at bis command ; besides, he says they play pretty evenly, so that he must win nearly as often as Cumberland ; then he is older than I am, and of course mnst be better able to judge what is right or wrong for him to do." However, remembering the old adage, that " lookers-on see most of the game," I determined, for once, to accompany him ; I therefore told liim that, though I could not play myself, it would be an amuse- ment to me to watch them, and that, if he had no objection, I would go with him, to which proposition he willingly agreed. As we turned into F Street, we were joined by Cumberland, who, as I fancied, FRANK FAIRLEGH 57 did not seem beet pleased at seeing me, nor did tlie scowl which passed across his brow, on hearinp I was to accompany them, tend to lessen this impi-ession. He did not, however, attempt to make any opposition to the plan, merely remarking that, as I did not play myself, he thought I should find it rather dull. After proceeding about half-way down the street, Cumberland stopped in front of a small cigar shop, and, turning towards a private door, on which was a brass plate with the word " Billiards " engi-aved on it, knocked, and was admitted. Leading the way up a dark, narrow staircase, he opened a green baize door at the top, and ushei-ed us into a tolerably large room, lighted by a skylight, immediately under which stood the billiard-table. On one side was placed a rack, containing a formi* da>>le an-angement of cues, maces, etc., while at tlie farther end two small dials, with a brass hand in the centre for the jjurpose of marking the scores of the different players, were fixed against the wall. As we entered, two persons who were apparently i^erfonning certain intricate manteuvres with the balls by way of practice, immediately left off playing and came towards us. One of these, a little man. with small keen giniy eyes, and a qiiick, restless manner, which involuntarily i-eminded one of a himgry rat. rejoiced in the name of " Slipsey," and proved to be the billiard-marker ; his companion was a tall stout jjersonage, with a very red face, rather handsome features, large white teeth, and a profusion of bushy whiskers, moustaches, and imperial of a dark-brown colour. His dress consisted of a blue militai-y frock-coat, which he wore open, to display a crimson plush waistcoat, and thick gold watch-chain, while his costume was completed by a pair of black and white plaid trousers, made in the e.xti-eme of the fashion, with a broad stripe down the outside of the leg. This pei*sonage swaggered up to Ciunberland. and with a manner comiX)8ed of imijeilinent familiarity and awkwardness, addi-essed him as follows, — " How d'ye do, Mr. Cumljerland 'r hope I see you well, sir. Teriible bad day, gentlemen, don't you think ? dusty enough to pepper the devil, as we used to say in Spain, hey ? Going to have a touch at the roly-polys, I suppose." " We shaU be disturVjing you. Captain Spicer." said Cumberland, who. I thought, had tact enough to perceive that his friend's free and easy manner was the reverse of acceptable to Oaklands. " Not at all, not at all," was the reply ; " it was so teiTiVjle unpleasant out of dooi-8, that, as I happened to be going by. I thought I'd look in to see if there was anything up ; and as the table was lying idle, I got knocking the balls about with little Slipsey here, just to keep one's hand in, you know." '■ Well, then, we had better begin at once,"' said Cumberland, to which Oaklands assented rather coldly. As he was pulling off his great-coat, he whispered to me, "If that man stays here long, I shaU never be able to stand it ; his familiarity 53 FRANK FAIRLEGH is unbearable ; thei-e ia nothing tires me so much aa \mnff obliged to be civil to tliose kind of i)eople." *' How is it to l>e ? " said Cumberland, " whoever wins four games out of seven is the conqueror, wasn't that it ? " " Yes, I Ijelieve so," was Oaklands' reply. " A vei7 8i)Oi-tinjr match, *pon my life," obsen-ed the Captain ; " are the stakes high ? " "Oh. no! a mere nothing; five or ton pounds, did we say?" in([uired Cumberland. " Just as you like." i-eplied Oaklands. carelessly. " Ten pounds, by all uieaus, I slunild say ; five pounds is so shocking small, don't you think ? not worth playing for ? " said the Captain. " Ten let it l)e, then," said Cumberland ; and after u few prelimi- naries they l)eg:in playing. I did not uudei-stand the game suflBciently to l>e able to give a detailed account of the variojis chances of the match, nor would it probably greatly interest the reader were I to do so. Suffice it, then, to state that, as far as I could judge. Oaklands. disgusted by the \'ulgar iuii)ertinence of the Captain (if Captain he was), thought the whole thing a lx)re, and played carelessly. The consequence was that Cumberland won the first two games. This put Oaklands ui>on his mettle, and he won the third and fourth; the fifth was hardly contested. Oaklands evidently playing as well as he was able, Cum- berland also taking pains ; but it stnick me as singular that, in each game, his play seemed to depend upon that of his adversary. When Oaklands first began, Cumberland certainly l)eat him, but not by many; and, as he became interested, and his play improved, so in the same ratio did Cumberland's keep pace with it. Of course, there might be nothing in this; the same causes that affected the one might influence the other ; but the idea having once occun-ed to me, I detenuined to watch the proceedings still more closely, in order, if possible, to make up my mind on the point. After a very close contest Oaklands also won the fifth game ; in the sixth he missed a difficiilt stroke, after which he played carelessly, apparently intending to resei-ve his strength for the final struggle, so that Cumberland won it easily. Each had now won three games, and on the event of the seventh depended the match. Again did Oaklands, who was evidently deeply interested, use his utmost skill, and his play, which certainly ■was very good, called forth frequent eulogiums from the Captain, who offered to bet unheard-of sums on the certainty of his winning (which, as there was no one in the room at all likely to accept his offer, was a very safe and innocent amusement), and again, " pari passu,' did Cumberland's skill keep pace with his. After playing neck and neck, till nearly the end of the game, Cumberland gained a slight advan- tage, which produced the following state of affairs : — It was Oaklands' tui-n to play, and the balls were placed in such a position that by a brilliant stroke he might win the game, but it required great skill to do so. If he failed, the chances were so much in Cumberland's FRANK FAIRLEGH 5& favour as to render his success almost a certainty. It was an anxious moment ; for my own part I felt as if I scarcely dared breathe, and could distinctly hear the throbbing of my o^v'n heart, while the Captain, after having most liberally offered to bet five hundred pounds to fivepence that he did it, remained silent and motionless as a statue, watching the proceedings, with his eyeglass screwed after some mysterious fashion into the comer of his eye. And now. carefully and deUl>erately. Oaklands pointed his cue — his elbow was di'a^vn back for the stroke — for the last time his eye appeared to measure and calculate the precise spot he must strike to produce the desired effect— when suddenly, and at the exact moment in which the cue struck the ball, a sonorous sneeze from the rat-like billiai-d-marker resounded through the room ; as a necessary con- sequence, Oaklands gave a slight staii and missed his stroke. The confusion that ensued can " l)etter be imagined than described." as the newspapers always say about the retiu-n from Ei)som. "With an exclamation of anger and disappointment Oaklands turned away from the table, while the Captain began stomiing at Slipsey, whom he declared himself ready to kick till all was blue, for the trifling remuneration of half a farthing. The marker himself apologized with great contrition, for his delinquency, which he declared was quite involuntary, at the same time asserting that, to the best of his belief, the gentleman had made his stroke before he sneezed : this Oaklands denied, and appealed to Cuml>erland for his opinion. After ti-ying in various ways to avoid giving a direct answer, and appealing in his turn to Captain Spicer (who was so intensely positive that the sneeze had preceded the stroke, that he was wiUing to back his opinion to any amount), Cumberland very unwillingly owned that, if he was forced to say what he thought, he believed Oaklands had made his stroke l^efore the sneeze caused him to start, but that it was a near thing, and he might veiy possibly be mistaken. This was q\iite enough for Oaklands, who declared that he was perfectly satisfied, and begged Cumljerland to play, which with some apparent reluctance, he did, and, as was almost a matter of certainty, proved the conqueror. " 'Pon my life, in all my experience, I never knew a gentleman lose a match in such a tremendously unfortunate way," observed the Captain. "I am certain that if you had not been flurried, Mr. Oaklands. sir, you could have done the tnck as clean as a whistle. Allow me to place the balls as they were then — I know how they stood to a nicety — there, that's it to a demi-semi fraction ; oblige me. sir, just as a personal favour, by trying the stroke once more." Thus invoked, Oaklands approached the table, and, without a moment's deliberation, struck the ball, and succeeded in doing with perfect ease the very thing which a minute before would have won him ten poimds. " There ! I was super certain you could do it ; the match was yours,. 60 FRANK FAIRLEGH Mir, as 8iafe as the bank, if that wretched little abortion there had'nt made that difi^iistin^: noise. Play him a^s'ain, sir ; play him af^ain : Mr. Cuiuljeiliind's a jiretty player, a very i>i-etty player; but you'i-e too btroxiK iM- him. Mr. Oaklands ; it's my firm conviction you're too ■stron^f ff)r him." " What do you say to K'vinff me my revenge, Cumberland ? " asked Oak lauds. " Oh ! I can have no possible objection," i-eplied Cumberland, with the slightest imaginaV)le assumption of superiority in his tone, which annoyed my ear, and which I felt sure would produce the same effect upon Oaklands. The next game Oaklands won; and they continued to play the rest of the afternoon with various Huccess. and for what ai)i»eared tome very high stakes. I calculated that, by the time they left off, Oaklands must have lost more than thirty i)Ounds ; luid yet, in spite of this, to a superficial observer he api)eai-ed to be the better player of the two : he certainly made the most brilliant strokes, but he also made blunders, and failed now and then ; while Cuml)erland'8 score mounted n]> without one's exactly knowing how ; he never seemed to lie playing jiarticiilarly well, and yet there was always some- thing easy for him to do; while, when Oaklands had to j^lay, the balls got into such awkward positions that it apjKjared as if they were leagued against him. Besides this, many things concuired to strengthen me in my i)re- conceived idea that Cumberland %vas accommodating his play to that of Oaklands, whom. I felt certain, he could have beaten easily, if he had been so inclined. If this were really the case, the only conclu- sion one could come to was. that the whole thing was a regidarly an-anged plot, the object of which was to win as much as he could of Oaklands' money. The marker's sneeze, too, occun-ing so vei-y opportunely for Cumberland's interest; and the presence of the Captain, who, by his eulogiums on Oaklands' skill, had excited him to continue playing, while, by his observations and advice, he had endeavoured (whenever it was possible) to raise the amount of the stakes— all this favoured my view of the case. Still these were but suspicions ; for I was utterly without proof : and could I on mere suspicion tell Oaklands that he was a dupe, and Cumberland a knave ? No, tliis would never do ; so I determined, as people generaDy do when they are at their wits' end, and can hit on nothing Ijetter, to wait and see what time would bring forth, and act according to circumstances. Should any of my readers think such penetration unnatural in a boy of my age, brought up in a quiet counti-y parsonage, let them remember that, though utterly ignorant of the ways of the world, I was what is called a quick, sharp boy ; that I had been informed Cumberland was not a person to be trusted, nay, that he was known to have cheated some young man before ; and that, moreover, my vei-y unworldliness and ignorance increased my suspicions, inasmuch, as •it seemed to me, that playing billiards, at a public table, for what I FRANK FAIRLEGH 01 considei-ed larpe sums of money, was neithei- more nor less than Pfambling; and praniblinar I viewed in the light of a patent twenty - devil-power man-trap, fresh baited (in the present case with a billiard cue and balls) by the claws of the Evil One himself ; consequently, I was prepared to view everything that passed with the greatest mistrust; and, in such a fi-ame of mind, I must have been blind not to have pei'ceived something of what was going on. CHAPTER VIII. GOOD RESOLUTIONS. " Blest are those Whose blood and judfpient are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger To sound what stop she pleases." IlamUt. " There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft." Nmmil Song. As we were preparing to take oiu- departure, I obsei*ved the Captain exchange glances with Cumberland, who tmned to Oaklands saying, — '■ Don't wait for me ; I have one or two places to call at in my way back, and I shall only make you late ;— when you get home, give Thomas a hint to keep back dinner five minutes or so— old Mildman won't say anything about it. if he fancies it's the servant's fault." To this Oaklands replied " that it was rather a shame, but he'd see what he could do for once," and, with a very distant bow to the Captain , we left the room. As soon as we were in the street, Oaklands accosted me with, — " "Well. Frank, what do you think of billiards ? " '•"Why," replied I, after a moment's thought, "as to the game itself, it's a very pretty game, and when you can play well, I have no doubt a very interesting one; too much so. perhaps." '• Too interesting ! why. that's the beauty of it ; almost every other game is a lx)re, and tires one, l^ecause one does not get sufficiently interested to forget the trouble of it ; what can you mean by too interesting ? " *' You won't be angry at what I am going to say, will you ? " said I. looking up in his face. '■ Angry with you, my dear boy ! no fear of that; always say just what you think to me. and if it happens to be disagreeable, why, it can't be helped : I would rather hear a disagreeable truth from a friend any day, than have it left to some ill-natured person to bring out, when he wants to annoy me." " AllI meant to say was this," I replied ; " it seems to me that you •62 FRANK FAIRLEGH ^et 80 much excited by the game, that yon goon playing longer, and for higher stakes than you intended to do when you began : surely," continued I, " it cannot be right to lose such sums of money merely for amusement ; is it not gambling ? " " I believe you are right, Frank," replied Oaklands, after a short pause, during which he had apparently been revolving the matter in his mind ; " when one comes to think seriously about it, it is a most unprofitable way of getting rid of one's money ; you will scarcely credit it," continued he, half smiling, "but I declare to you I have Ijeen playing almost every day for the last two months." " So long as that ? " interrupted I. aghast. " There or thereabouts," said Oaklands, laughing at the tone of hoiTor in which I had spoken ; " but I was going to say," he continued, " that till this moment — looking upon it merely as an annisement, something to keep one from going to sleep over a newspaper in that vile reading-room — I have never taken the trouble to consider whether there was any right or wrong in the matter. I am very much oV)liged to you for the hint, Frank ; I'll think it over to-night, and see how much I owe Master Cumberland, and I'll tell you to-mon-ow what conclusion I have come to. I hate to do anything in a hurry — even to think ; one must take time to do that well." We had now reached home, and, mindful of his promise, Oaklands begged Thomas to use his interest with the cook for the purpose of postponing dinner for a few minutes, in order to give Cumberland a chance of being ready — to which Thomas replied, — " Very well, sir, anything to oblige you, Mr. Oaklands," muttering to himself as he went off, " Wonder what that chap Cumberland is up to now ; no good, 111 be bound." In another minute we heard his voice in the lower regions, exclaiming, — " I say, cook, musn't dish up for the next ten minutes ; master ain't quite finished his next Sunday's sei-mon; he's got hitched just at thirdly and lastly, and musn't be disturbed ; not on no account," which prodiiced from that functionary the following pathetic rejoinder, — '• Then, it's hall hup with the pigeon pie, for it will be burnt as black as my blessed shoe by that time ! " As I was descending the stairs, ready to go out the next day, Oaklands called me into his room, and, closing the door, said, — " Well, Fairlegh, I have thought over all you said yesterday — made up my mind, and acted upon it." " Bravo ! " replied I, " I am so glad, for whenever you will but rouse yoiu-self , yoii are sure to act more rightly and sensibly than any- body else ; but what have you done now ? Let me hear all about it." '* Oh, nothing vei-y wonderful," answered Oaklands ; " when I came to look at my pocket-book, I found I had lost, from first to last, above ^150." " Good gracious ! " cried I, aghast at the magnitude of the sum, '■ what will you do ? " FRANK FAIRLEGH 63 Oaklands smiled at my look of horror, and continued, — "About jE 100 of this I still owe Cumberland, for after my ready money was gone. I merely set down on paper aU I won or lost, as he said I could pay him at any time, just as it suited me best ; and I thought I would wait till I got my next quai-ter's allowance, pay him out of that, and be veiy economical ever after. Well, when I saw what the sums amounted to, I found this plan cei^tainly would not answer, and that I was getting into a mess ; so I made up my mind to put an end to the thing at once, and sat down to wiite to my father, teUing him I had been playing billiards every day for some time past with a fi-iend — of course I did not mention who — and that, without being at all aware of it, my losses had mounted up till I owed him jEIOO. I mentioned at the same time that I had a pretty long bill at Smithson's : and then went on to say that I saw the folly, if not worse than folly, of what I had been doing ; and that I applied to him, as the best friend I had in the world — and I am sure he is too, Frank — to save me from the consequences of my own imprudence." " I am very glad you did that ; it was much the wisest thing," inteiTupted I. "As soon as I had written my letter," continued Oaklands, "I went to Cumberland, and told him that I found I had been going on over-fast,— that I owned he was too good a player for me, — and that I therefore did not mean to play any more, and would pay him as soon as I received my father's answer." *' And what did he say to that ? " inquired I. " Why. he seemed sui-prised and a little annoyed, T fancied. He denied being the best player, and begged I would not think of paying him yet, saying that I had been unlucky of late, but that if I would go on boldly, luck was sure to change, and that I should most likely win it all back again." " And you ? " " Oh ! I told him that was the true spirit of gambling : that I did not choose to owe so much to any man as I owed him, and that pay him I would. Well, then, he said that if I did not like to trouble my father about such a trifle, and yet was determined to pay him, it could be very easily managed. I asked how. He hummed and ha'd, and at last said that Smithson would advance me the money in a minute — that I should only have to sign a receipt for it, and need not pay him for years— not till I was of age, and not then if I did not like — that no one would be any the wiser — and he was going on with more in the same style, when I stopped him, by answei-ing very abruptly that such an arrangement was not to my taste, and that I was not yet reduced to borrowing money of my tailor." ■■ Quite right, I am so glad you told him that," interposed I ; " what did he say then ? " " Something about not intending to offend me, and its being a thing done every day." M FRANK FAIRLEGH " By hiui perhaps." said I. recollecting the scene I had witnessed soon after my an-ival. " Why I what do you mean ? " said Oaklands. *' I'll tell you when you have done." replied I ; '* but I want to know how all thia ended." " There was not much uiore. He tried to persuade me to go ajjain to-day, and play another match. I told him I was enjfajfed to ride with you. Then he looked as if he was Koinjf to be ansrry. I waited to see, and he wasn't, and so we parted." " And what think you of Cuml>erland now ? " inquired I. " I can't say I altogether like the way in which he haa behaved about this," replied Oaklands; "it certainly looks aa if he would have had no objection to win as much as he could from me. for he must have known all alonjj that he was the best player. It strikes me that I am well out of the mess, and I have to thank you for beinjf so too, old fellow." "Nay, you have to thank your own energy and decision; I did nothinfiT towards helpinif you out of your difficulties." " Indeed ! if a man is walking over a precipice with his eyes shut, is it nothing to cause him to o{>en them, in order that he may see the dangers into which the path he is following will lead him ? " '■ Ah ! Hany. if you would but exert yourself, so aa to keep your own eyes open — " " What a wide-awake fellow you would be I " interposed Coleman, who, after having tapped twice, without succeeding in making himself heard (so engrossed were we by the convereation in which we were engaged), had in despair opened the door in time to overhear my last remark. " I say, gents, as Thomas calls us," continued he, " what have you been doing to Cumberland, to put him into such a channing temper ? " " Is he out of humour then ? " inquired Oaklands. " I should say. rather." replied Coleman, winking ironically ; " he came into oiu* room just now, looking as black as thunder, and, as I know he hates to be spoken to when he is in the sulks, I asked him if you were going to play billiards with him to-day." Han-y and I exchanged glances, and Coleman continued. — '■ He fixed his eyes upon me. and stared as if he would have felt greatly relieved by cutting my throat, and at last growled out, ' No ; that you were going to ride with Fairlegh ; ' to which I replied that it was quite delightful to see what great fiiends you had become ; whereupon he groimd his teeth with rage, and told me ' to go to the devil for a prating fool : ' so I answered that I was not in want of such an article just at present, and had not time to go so far to-day, and then I came here instead. Oh, he's in no end of a rage, I know."^ " And your remarks would not tend to soothe him much either," said I. " Oaklands has just been telling him he does not mean to play billiards again." ■• Phew !" whistled Coleman, "that was a lucky shot of mine; I FRANK FAIRLEGH 65 fancied it must have been something about Oaklands and billiards that had gone wrong, when I saw how savage it made him. I like to rile Cumberland sometimes, because he's always so soft and silky ; he seems afraid of getting into a good honest rage, lest he should let out something he does not want one to know. I hate such extreme caution ; it always makes me think there must b© something very MTong to be concealed, when people are so mighty particular." " You are not quite a fool, after all, Freddy," said Oaklands, encouragingly. " Thank ye for nothing, Harry Longlegs," replied Coleman, skipping beyond the reach of Oaklands' arm. A few mornings after this conversation took place, Oaklands, who was sitting in the recess of the window (from which he had ejected Lawless on the memorable evening of his arrival), called me to him, and asked in a low tone of voice, whether I should mind calling at the billiard-rooms when I went out, and paying a month's subscrip- tion which he owed there. He added that he did not like going him- self, for fear of meeting Cumberland or the Captain, as if they pressed him to play, and he refused (which he certainly should do), something disagreeable might occur, which it was quite as well to avoid. In this I quite agreed, and willingly undertook the commission. While we were talking, Thomas came into the room with a couple of letters, one of which he gave to Oaklands, saying it had just come by the post, while he handed the other to Cumberland, informing him that the gentleman who brought it was waiting for an answer. I fancied that Cumberland changed colour slightly when his eye fell upon the writing. After rapidly perusing the note, he crushed it in his hand, and flung it into the fire, saying, — '• My compliments to the gentleman, and I'll be with him at the time he mentions." '• Well, this is kind of my father," exclaimed Oaklands, looking up with a face beaming with pleasure ; " after writing me the warmest and most affectionate letter possible, he sends me an order for three hundred poimds upon his banker, telling me always to apply to him when I want money, or get into difficulties of any kind ; and that if I will promise him that this shall be the case, I need never be afraid of asking for too much, as he should be really annoyed were I to stint myself." " What a pattern for fathers ! " exclaimed Coleman, rubbing his hands. " I only wish uiy old dad would test my obedience in that sort of way ; I'd take care I would not annoy him by asking for too little ; he need not fret himself on that account. Ugh ! " continued he. with a look of intense disgust, " it's quite dreadful to think what per\'ei-ted ideas he has on the subject; he actually fancies it his business to spend his money as well as to make it ; and as for sons, the less they have the better, lest they should get into extravagant habits, forsooth ! I declare it's quite aggravating to think of the F fMJ FRANK FAIRLEGH tiifference betTreen people : a cheque for three hundred pounds from a father, who'll be annoyed if one does not always apply to him for money enough ! Open the window there ! I am ^ettinff faint ! " " Don't you think there's a little difference between sons as well as fathers, Master Fred, eh ? " inquired Lawless. "I should say some sons mipht be safely tnisted with three-hundred-pound cheques ; while others are certain to waste two shillinjrs, and misapply sixpence, out of evei-y half-crown they may pet hold of." " Sir, I scorn your insinuations ; sir, you'i-e no ^'entleman," was the reply, producing (as was probably intended) an attack from Lawless which Coleman avoided for some time, by dod^ng round chairs and under tables. After the chase had lasted for several minutes, Coleman, when on the point of being captured, contrived, by a master-stroke of policy, to substitute Mullins in his place, and the affair ended by that worthy being knocked down by Lawless, " for always choosing to interfere with everything," and being kicked up again by Coleman "for having prevented him from projierly vindicating his wounded honour." " Who's going near the post-oflBce, and will put a letter in for me P" asked Oaklands. " I am," replied Cumberland ; " I've got one of my own to put in also." "Don't forget it or lose it, for it's rather important," added Oaklands; " but I need not caution you, you are not one of the hare- brained sort; if it had been my friend Freddy, now — " " I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Oaklands," said Coleman, putting on an air of offended dignity, in which, though vei-y much exaggerated, there was at the bottom the smallest possible spice of reality — a thing by the way, one may often observe in people who have a very strong appreciation of the ridiculous, and who, however fond they may be of doing absurd things for the sake of being laughed at, do not approve of their buffooneries being taken for granted — " I'll tell you what it is, sir : you have formed a most mistaken estimate of my character ; I beg to say that any affair I undertake is certain to be conducted in a veiy sedate and business-like manner. My pmdence I consider unimpeachable ; and as to steadiness, I flatter myself I go considerably ahead of the Archbishop of Canterbury in that article. If I hear you repeat such offensive remarks, I shall be under the painful necessity of elongating your already sufficiently prolonged proboscis." " Come and ti-y," said Oaklands, folding his arms with an air of defiance. Coleman, reckoning on his adversary's dislike of exertion, and trusting to his own extreme quickness and activity to effect his escape scot-free, made a feint of turning away as if to avoid the contest, and then, with a sudden spring, leaped upon Oaklands, and succeeded in just touching his nose. The latter was, however, upon liis guard, and while, by seizing his outstretched ai-m with one hand, FRANK FAIRLEGH 67 he prevented him from attaining his object, he caught him by the coat-collar with the other, and detained him prisoner. "I've got you this time, at all events, Master Freddy; now what shal I do with you. to pay you off for all your impertinence ? " said Uaklands, lookmg round the room in search of something suitable to his purpose. " I have it," continued he, as his eyes encountered the bookcase, which was a large square-topped, old-fashioned afEau-, standing about eight feet high, and the upper part forming a sort of glass-fronted closet, in which the books were an-anged on shelves "Great men like you, who go a-head of archbishops and so on, should be seated in high places." So saying, he lifted Coleman in his ai-ms ^vith as much ease as if he had been a kitten; and stepping up on a chair which stood near, seated him on the top of the book, case with his head touching the ceiling, and his feet dangling about Six feet from the gi-oimd. "What a hon-id shame!" said Coleman; "come help me down again, Harry, there's a good fellow." " I help you down ! " rejoined Oaklands, " I've had trouble enough in putting you up, I think ; I'm a great deal too much tired to help jou down again." " WeU, if you won't, there's nobody else can," said Coleman unless they get a ladder, or a fire-escape-don't caU me proud gentlemen, if Hook down upon you aU, for I assm-e you it's quite' mvoluntai-y on my part." •'A decided case of ' up aloft': he looks quite a cherub, does he not r said Lawless. "They are making game of you, Coleman," cried MuUins, grinning. "I hope not," was the reply, "for in that case I should be much too high to be pleasant." " They ought to keep you there for an hour longer for that vile pun said Cumberland. "Is yom- letter ready, Oaklands, for I must be going ? " "It is upstairs; I'U fetch it," replied Oaklands, leaving the room. '^ " Well, as it seems I am here for life, I may as well make myself comfortable, said Coleman, and suiting the action to the word, he crossed his legs imder him like a tailor, and, folding his arms, leaned his back against the wall, the picture of ease. _ At this moment there was a gentle tap at the door ; someone said, 'Come m, and without a word of prepai-ation Dr. Mildman entered the apartment. Our surprise and consternation at this apparition may easily be imagined. Cumberland and Lawless tried to caziy it off by assuming an easy, imembarrassed air, as if nothing particular was going on; I felt strongly disposed to laugh, while Mullins looked much more inclined to cry ; but the expression 'of Coleman's face, affordmg a regular series of "dissolving views" of varied emotions, was the "gem" of the whole affair. The unconscious 08 FRANK FAIRLEOn cause of all this excitement, whose back waa turned toward* the bookcaae, walked quietly up to his usual seat, saying as he did flo, — " Don't let nie disturb you— I only came to look for my eyeglass, which I think I must have dropped." " I see it. sir," said I, sprintring forward and picking it up; " how lucky none of us happened to tread on it and break it ! " "Thank you. Fairlegh, it is an old friend, and I should have l)een soiTy to have any harm happen to it." replied he. as he turned to leave the room, without having once raised his eyes from the ground. Coleman, who up to this moment had considered a discovery inevitable, gave me a sign to open the door, and, l)elie^^ng the danger over, was proceeding to relieve his feelings by making a hideous face at his retiring tutor, when the bookcase, affected no doubt by the additional weight pla<-ed ujjou it, suddenly gave a loud crack. "Bless my heart!" said Dr. Mildman, looking up in alarm. " what's that ? Gracious me ! " continued he, starting back as hia eyes encountered Coleman, " there's something ulive up there ! why it's— eh ? " continued he. levelling his newly-reatored eyeglass at the object of his alarm ; " yes. it certainly is Coleman ; pray, sir, is it usually your ' custom of an aftenioon,' as Shakespeare has it, to sit perched up there cross-legged, like a Chinese mandarin ? It's a very singular taste." " Why, sir," replied Coleman, for once completely taken aback, " you see I didn't— that is, I wasn't— I mean, if I hadn't— I shouldn't." " Hum," resumed Dr. Mildman with whom he was rather a favoui-ite, and who. now that he had satisfied himself it was not some wild animal he had to deal with, was evidently amused by Coleman's emban-assment, " that sentence of yours is not par- ticularly clear or explanatoiT; but," continued he, as a new idea occurred to him, "how in the world did you get up there? you must have flown." "I didn't get up, I was— that is. he—" stammered Coleman, remembering just in time that he could not explain without involving Oaklands. " And how are you ever to get down again ? " said Dr. Mildman. " Has the pretty bird flown yet ? " cried Oaklands, hastily entering the room; when, observing the addition the pai-ty had received dui-ing his absence, he started back, murmuring in an vmdertone, " The old gentleman, by Jove ! " Quickly recovering himself, how- ever, he sprang upon a chair, and seizing Coleman in his ai-ms. whisked him down with more haste than ceremony ; and going up to Dr. Mildman, said respectfully, "That was a bit of folly of mine, sir ; I put him up there ; I merely did it for a joke, and I hadn't an idea you would come in and find him." "Never mind," replied Dr. Mildman, good-naturedly ; "as you ?^ ^<>^ --^- - S«.^ FRANK FAIRLEGH 69 have contrived to get him down again safely, there is no harm done," adding ae he left the room, " That young man is as strong as Hercules. I hope he'll never take it into his head to pop me up anywhere, for I am sure he could do it if he chose." CHAPTER IX. A DENOUEMENT, " Play not for gain, but sport ; who playe for more Than he can lose \vith plea*ui-e, etaieB his heart." Herbtrt. " If you are so bold as to venture a blowing-tip, look closely to it ! for the plot lies deadly deep . . . but of all things have a care of putting it in your pocket, . . . and if •you can shun it, read it not ; . . . consider well what you do and look to yourself . , . for there is danger and jeopardy in it." — Dr. Eachard. In the course of my walk that afternoon, I called at the billiard- rooms in F Street, in order to pay Oaklands' subscription. On inquiring for Mr. Johnson, the proprietor, I was told that he was engaged at present, but that if I did not mind waiting for a few minutes, he would be able to attend to me. To this I agreed, and was shown into a small room downstairs, which, from its sanded floor, and a strong odour of stale tobacco which pei*\'aded it, was apparently used as a smoking-room. It opened into what seemed to be a i-ather spacious apartment from which it was divided by a glass half- door, across the lower panes of which hung a green blind : this door, on my entrance, was standing slightly ajar. The day being cold, there was a bright fire burning on the hearth ; near this I seated myself, and. seduced by its drowsy influence, fell into a kind of trance, in which, between sleeping and waking, my mind wandered away to a far different scene, among well-known forms and familiar faces, that had been strangers to me now for many a long day. From this day-di-eam 1 was ai-oused by sounds which, proceeding from the adjoining apartment, resolved themselves, as I became more thoroughly awake, into the voices of two persons apparently engaged in angi-y colloquy. *' I teU you," said a gruff voice, which somehow seemed familiar to me — " I tell you it is the only chance for you ; you must contrive to bring him here again, and that without loss of time." " Must I again repeat that the thing is impossible ? " was the reply, in tones I knew but too well; "utterly impossible: when once his mind is made up, and he takes the trouble to exert himself, he is immovable : nothing can shake his determination." 70 FRANK FAIRLEGH " And is this your boasted skill and management ? " rejoined the first speaker ; " how comes it, pray, that this overRTOwu child, who seemed the other day to be held as nicely in leadinK-stringrf an need be— this raw boy, whose hot-headedness, simplicity, and indolence rendered him as easy a piffeon to pluck as one could desire ; how comes it, I say, that he has taken alarm in this sudden manner, so as to refuse to come here any more ? You've bungled this matter most shauiefully, sir, and uuist take the consequences ! " "That's just the point I cannot make out." replied the second speaker, who, as the reader has probably discovered, was none other than Cumberland; "it's easy enough for you to lay it all to my mismanagement. Captain Spicer, but I tell you it is no such thing: did I not accommodate my play to his, always appearing to win by some accident, so that the fool actually believed himself the letter player, while he was losing from twenty to thirty jiounds a day ? Didn't I excite him, and lead him on by a mixtui-e of flattery and defiance, so that he often fancied he was persuading me to play against my will, and was so ready to l>et that I might have won three times what I have of him, if you had not advised me to go on quietly, and by degrees ? Did not you refuse when I wished you to take him in hand yourself, l>ecause you said I understood him best, and managed him admirably "r* No, I ])elieve that detestable young Fairlegli is at the bottom of it : I observed him watching me with that calm, steadfast glance of his, that I hated him for from the first moment I saw him ; I felt certain some mischief would arise from it.'' " Yes ! " replied Spicer, '" that was your fault too : why did you let the other bring him ? Every fool knows that lookers-on see most of the game." " I was afraid to say much against it, lest Oaklands should suspect anything," rejoined Cuml:>erland ; " but I wish to Heaven I had now ; I might have been sure no good would come from it — that boy is my evil genius." " I have no time for talking about geniuses, and such con- founded stuff," obsei-ved Spicer, angrily, " so now to business, Mr. Cumberland; you are aware you owe me two hundred pounds, 1 presume ? " Cvmiberland gnmibled out an unwilling assent, to which he appended a muttered remark not exactly calculated to enhance the Captain's future comfort. "' Like a good-natured fool," continued Spicer, " I agreed to wait for my money till you had done what you could with this Oaklands."^ " For which forbearance you were to receive fifty pounds extra, besides anything you could make out of him by private bets," put in Cumberland. " Of course I was not going to wait all that time for my money for nothing," was the reply ; " you have only as yet paid me fifty pounds, you tell me you can't persuade Oaklands to play again, so there's nothing more to be got from that quainter, consequently nothing FRANK FAIRLEGH 71 more to wait for. I must trouble you, therefore, to pay me the two humired pounds at once ; for, to be plain with you, it won't do for me to remain here any longer — the air does not agree with my constitution." " And where on earth am I to get two hundred pounds at a minute's notice ? " said Cuml:)erland ; " you are as well aware the thing is impossible as I am." " I am aware of this, sir," replied the Captain with an oath, " that I'll have my money ; ay. and this very day too, or I'll expose you — curse me, if I don't ! I know your uncle's address : yes ! you may well turn pale and gnaw your lip — other people can plot and scheme as well as yourself ; if I'm not paid before I leave this place, and that will be by to-night's mail, your uncle shall be told that his nephew is an insol- vent gambler ; and the old tutor, the Rev. Dr. Mildman, shall have a hint that his head pupil is little better than a blackleg." " Now listen to me, Sijicer," said Cumberland, quietly ; " I know you might do what you have threatened, and that to me it would be neither more nor less than niin ; but — and this is the real question — pray what possible advantage (save calling people's attention to the share, a pretty large one, you have had in making me what I am) would it be to you ? " " To me, sir ? eh ! why, what do you mean, sir ? your uncle is a man of honour, and, of course, as such would pay his nephew's debts for him, more particularly when he knows that if he refuses to do so, that nephew will be sent to gaol ; yes, to gaol, sir." " There ! blustering is of no use with me, so you may save yourself that trouble. Captain," replied Cumberland ; " as to sending me to gaol, that is absurd ; you can't an-est a minor for debt, and I shall not be of age these two years. My uncle is, as you say, what is called a man of honoiu-, Init he is not one of those over-scrupulous fools who will pay any demand, however dishonest and unreasonable, rather than tarnish the family honour forsooth ! No ! he will pay what the law compels him, and not a farthing more. I leave you to decide whether the law is likely to be of much use to you in the present case. Now. listen to me ; though you cannot obtain the money by the means you proposed, you can, as I said before, do me serious injury ; there- fore, if for no other reason but to stop your month, I would pay you the whole if I could, but I have not the power of doing so at present. What I propose, then, is this — Oaklands will pay me, in a day or two. one hundred pounds ; this I will hand over to you at once, and will give you a written promise to pay you the rest in the course of the next six months ; for before that time I must raise money somehow, even if I have to sell every farthing I expect to come into to the Jews, in order to do it." " "Won't do," was the reply ; " the ready isn't enough ; I must leave this covmti-y in a day or two, and I must have money to take with me ; come, one hundi-ed and fifty pounds down, and I'll let you off the other fifty." 72 FRANK FAIRLEGH "It's impossible: 1 can get no other money yet excepting the sum Oaklands is to pay me." " Yee ! and how the devil am I to be sure he will pay you directly P I'm pretty certain the fool's hard up himself ; he hasn't paid cash for a month past." " If that's ail you ai-e afraid of, I can soon convince you to the con- trary ; here's a letter to his father's banker, which I am going to put into the post directly, with a cheque for three hundred pounds in it ; there, hold it up to the light, and you can see the figures your- self." " By Jove ! so it is," exclaimed Spicer; "I say, Cumberland," he continiied, and then the voices almost sank into a whisper, so that I could not catch more than a word here and there, but by the tone I judged that the Captain was making some proposition, to which Cumberland refused to agree. At length I heard the former say, " Fifty pounds down, and a receipt in full." Cumberland's reply was inaudible, but when the Captain spoke again I caught the following words, " Not the slightest risk ; only you do as I say, and — " At this moment the outer door of the room in which I was sitting opened, while the one communicating with the other apartment was violently slammed to from the farther side, and I heard no more. The new-comer was a little slipshod girl in dirty curl-papers, who informed me that her master was sorry he could not see me that day, as he was particularly engaged, but if I would do him the favour of calling to-moiTow, at the same hour, he should be at leisure, etc. To this I answered something. I scarcely knew what, and seizing my hat, rushed out at the front door, to the gi-eat astonishment of the cm"l-papered damsel, who cast an anxious glance at the pegs in the hall, ere she could convince herself that I had not depaiied with more hats and coats than legitimately belonged to me. It was not until I had proceeded the length of two or three sb'eets, that I could collect my ideas sufficiently to form anything like a just estimate of the extraordinary disclosures with which I had so unexpectedly become acquainted, and no sooner had I in some measure succeeded in so doing, than the puzzling question presented itself to me, what line of conduct it would be advisable to adopt, in consequence of what I had heard. I asked myself too, to begin with, what right I had to make any use of a private conversation, which accident alone had caused me to overhear. Would not people say I had behaved dishonourably in having listened to it at all ? But then, again, by preserving Cumberland's secret, and concealing his real character from Oaklands, should not I, as it were, become a party to any nefarious schemes he might contemplate for the future ? Having failed in one instance in his attempt on Oaklands' piirse, would he not (having, as I was now fully aware, such a strong necessity for money) devise some fresh plan, which might succeed in its FRANK FAIRLEGH 73 object, were Oaklands etill ignorant of the real character of the person he had to deal with ? And in such case should not I be answerable for any mischief which might ensue ? Nay, for aught I knew, some fresh villainy might be afloat even now ; what plan could Spicer have been urging, which Cumberland seemed imwilling to adopt, if not something of this nature, and which might be prevented were Oak- lands made aware of all the circumstances ? This last idea settled the business. I detei-mined to reveal evei-y- thing to Oaklands in confidence, and to be guided in my subsequent conduct by his opinion. Having once anived at this conclusion, the next thing was to carry my intentions into effect with as little loss of time as possible. I consequently stai'ted off at speed in a home- ward direction, and succeeded in reaching my destination in rather less than ten minutes, having, at various times in the course of my route, run against and knocked over no less than six little children, to the manifest discomposure and indignation of as many nursei-y-maids, who evidently regarded me as a commissioned agent of some modem Herod, performing my master's work zealously. On an-iving at home my impatience was doomed to be disappointed, for Oaklands, who had gone out soon after I did, was not yet re- turned. This delay, in the feverish state of anxiety and excitement in which I was, appeared to me intolerable ; and, unable to sit still, E kept sb-iding up and down the room, clenching my fists, andxxttering exclamations of impatience and vexation ; which xmusual conduct on my part so astonished and alarmed the worthy Thomas that, after remaining in the room till he had exhausted every conceivable pre- text for so doing, he boldly inquired whether " I did not feel myself iU, no how 'i " adding his hope that " I had not been a-exhaling laughing gas, or any sich rum-bustical wegitable ? "' after which he favoured me with an anecdote of " a young man as he know'd, as had done BO, wot conducted hisself more like a hideotic fool than a sanatory Christian, ever after." Percei^-ing at length that his attentions were rapidly reducing me to the same state of mind as that of his friend, he very considerately left me. After half an hour of anxious expectation, in the course of which I must have walked at least a mile or two over Dr. Mildman's parlour carpet. Oaklands and Lawless retunied together. I instantly called the former aside, and told him I wished to speak to him alone, as I had something of importance to communicate. To this he replied that it was vei-y near dinner-time ; but that if I would come up to his room, I could talk to him while he dressed. As soon as we were safely closeted together I began my relation, but scarcely had I got beyond, " You asked me to go to the billiard-rooms, you know," •when a hasty footstep was heard upon the stairs ; someone knocked at the door, and immediately a voice, which I knew to be that of Cumberland, asked to be let in, " as he had something particular to say." " The plot thickens," said Oaklands, as, without rising from his 74 FRANK PAIRLEGII seat, he stretched out an immense lenjrth of arm, and opened th» door. " Hear what I have to say fii-st." cried I ; hut it was too late, and Cumberland entered breathless, and with his usually sallow com- plexion flushed with exercise and excitement. '• The most unfortunate thing I " he began ; and stopping to draw breath, he added, " I have run all the way from the post-office as hard as my legs would carry me— but I was going to tell you— as I went down, I met Curtis of the — th, who told me their V)and waa going to play in Park Square, and asked me to go with him to hear it ; and I'm afraid that, as I stood in the crowd, my pocket must have been picked, for when I got to the post-office, I found that my letter, my pocket handkerchief, and I am soiry to say your letter also, had disappeared — so. rememl)ering you had told me your letter was of importance, I thought the best thing I could do was to come home as fast as I could, and tell you." '• By Jove ! " exclaimed Oaklanda, " that's i-ather a bore, though ; there was my father'.s cheque for three hundred i)ounds in it; I suppose something ought to be done about it directly." " Write a note to stop the payment; and— let me see— as it is too- late for the post now, if you will make a parcel of it. I'll run down and give it to the guard of the mail, begging him to deliver it him- self as soon as he gets to town— the cheque can't be presented till to-moiTOW morning, so that it will be all right." " "What a head you have for business, to be sure ! " said Oaklands ; " but why should you have the trouble of taking it P I dare say Thomas will go with it when we have done dinner, or I can take it myself." " Nay," replied Cumberland, " as I have contrived to lose your letter, the least I can do is to take the parcel ; besides, I shoiild like to speak to the guard myself, so as to be sure there's no mistake." While this was going on it may be imagined that my thoughts wei-e not idle. When Cumberland mentioned the loss of the letter, my suspicions that some nefarious scheme might be on foot began for the first time to resolve themselves into a tangible f orai ; but when I perceived his anxiety to have the parcel entrusted to him, which •was to prevent the payment of the cheque, the whole scheme, or something nearly approaching to it, flashed across me at once, and without reflecting for a moment on what might l)e the con- sequences of doing so, I said, — '• If Oaklands will take my advice, he will not entrust you with anything else, till you can prove that you have really lost the letter as you say you have done." Had a thunderbolt fallen in the midst of us, it could scarcely have produced greater confusion than did this speech of mine. Oaklands. sprang upon his feet, regarding me with the greatest surprise as he asked, " if I knew what I was saying ? " while Cumberland, in a voice hoarse from passion, inquired, " What the devil I meant by my FRANK FAIRLEGH 75 insolence ? what did I dare to insinuate he had done with the letter, . if he had not lost it ? " " I insinuate nothing," was my reply ; " but I tell you plainly that I believe, and have good reason for believing, that you have not lost the letter, but given it to your gambling friend and accomplice. Captain Spicer, who in retura for it is to give you a receipt in full for the two hundred pounds you owe him, and fifty pounds down." On hearing this, Cumlserland turned as pale as ashes, and leaned on the back of a chair for support, while I continued, "You look siu-prised, Oaklands, as well you may ; but when you hear what I have to tell, you will see that I do not make this accusation without having good grounds to go upon." •■ I shall not stay here," said Cumberland, making an effort to recover himself, and turning towards the door, " I shall not remain here, to be any fui-ther insulted ; I wish you good evening, Mr. Oaklands." " Not so fast," said Oaklands, springing to the door, and locking it ; "if all this be true, and Fairlegh would not have said so much unless he had strong facts to produce, you and I shall have an account to settle together, Mr. Ciimberland ; you will not leave this room till I know the rights of the affair. Now, Frank, let us hear how you learned all this." " Strangely enough," replied I ; and I then gave him an exact account of all that had passed at the billiard-rooms, repeating the conversation, word for word, as neai-ly as I could remember it, leaving Oaklands to draw his own inferences therefrom. During the whole of my recital, Cumberland sat with his elbows resting on the table, and his face bui-ied in his hands, without offering the slightest inten-uption, scarcely, indeed, appearing aware of what was going on, save once, when I mentioned the fact of the door between the two rooms being slightly open, when he muttered something about "what cursed folly!" When I had finished my account, Oaklands turned towards Cumberland, and asked in a stem voice " what he had to say to this statement ? " Receiving no answer, he continued, " But it is viseless, sir, to ask you : the ti-uth of what Fairlegh has said is self-evident— the next question is, what is to be done about it ? " He paused for a moment as if in thought, and then resumed: "In the position in which I now stand, forming one of Dr. Mildman's household, and placed by my father under his conti'ol, I scarcely consider myself a free agent. It seems to me, therefore, that my com-se is clear ; it is evidently my duty to inform him of the whole affair, and afterwards to act as he may advise. Do you agree with me, Frank ? " " It is exactly what I should have proposed, had you not mentioned it first," was my answer. "For God's sake, Oaklands, don't!" exclaimed Ciimberland, raising himself suddenly; "he will write to my uncle — I shall be~: expelled— my character lost — it will be utter ruin ;— have pity upon 76 FRANK FAIRLEGH me— I will get you back your money. I wilJ indeed : only don't tell Mildmun." " I have treated you up to the present time as a pentleman and a friend," replied Oaklands; "you have proved youi-self unworthy of either title, and deserve nothing' at my hands but the strictest justice ; no one could blame me were I to allow the law to take ita course with you, as with any other swindler, but this I shall be most unwilling to do ; nothing,' short of Dr. Mildman's declaring it to be my positive duty will prevail upon me. But our tutor ought to l>e informed of it and shall : he is a good, kind-heai-ted man, and if his judgment should en- at all, you may feel sure it will be on the side of mercy. Fairlegh. will yoii go down and ask Dr. Mildman if I can speak to him on a matter of imporiajice, now, at once ? You will find him in his study. Let me know when he is ready, iind we will come doAvn ; for," added he, tiuTiing to Cumberland, " I do not lose sight of you till this business is settled one way or other." When I had told my en-and. Dr. Mildman, who looked a good deal surprised and a little frightened, desired me (on receiving my assurance that the business would not do as well iifter dinner) to tell Oaklands to come to him immediately. To this Oaklands replied by desiring me to hold myself in readiness for a summons, as he should want nie presently. Then, linking liis ann within that of Cumberland, he half led, half forced, him out of the room. In another minute I heard the study door close behind them. " Now, Fairlegh," said Dr. Mildman, when, in about a quarter of an hour's time, I had been sent for, " I wish you to repeat to me the conversation you overheard at the billiard-room, as nearly word for word as you can remember it." This I hastened to do, the Doctor listening with the most profound attention, and asking one or two questions on any point which did not at first appear quite clear to him. When I had concluded, he resumed his inquiries by asking whether I had seen the parties who were speaking. To this I answered in the negative. " But you imagined you recognized the voices ? " Yes, sir. " Whose did you take them to be P " " One I believed to be Cumberland's, the other that of Captain Spicer, whom I had seen when I was there before." *' How often have you been there ? " " Twice, sir; once about a week ago, and again to-day." " And have you the slightest moral doubt as to the fact of the persons you heard speaking being Cumberland and this Captain Spicer ? " " Not the slightest ; I feel quite certain of it." " That is all clear and straightfoi-svard enough," observed Dr. Mildman, turning to the culprit. " I am afraid the case is only too fully proved against you ; have you anything to say which can at all •establish your innocence ? " >I -y^Jlc-.-.V.,, FRANK PAIRLEGH IT " It would be of no use if I were to do so," said Cumberland in a ffollen manner ; " it's all a matter of assertion ; you choose to believe what they say, and if I were to deny it, you would not believe me- without proof ; and how can I prove a negative ? " " But do you deny it ? " inquired Dr. Mildman, regarding him with a clear, scrutinizing look. Cumberland attempted to speak, but, meeting Dr. Mildman's eye, was unable to get out a word, and turned away, concealing his face in his handkerchief. " This is a sad piece of business," said Dr. Mildman ; " I suppose you mean to prosecute, Oaklands ? " *' I shall be most unwilling to do so," was the reply ; " nor will I, sir, unless you consider it my positive duty ; I would rather lose the money ten times over than bring such a disgrace upon Cumberland." " You are a kind-hearted fellow," replied the Doctor; " it really is a very diflficult case in which to know how to act. As a general pi'in- ciple, I am most averse to anything like hushing up e^il." " For Heaven's sake have pity upon me, Dr. Mildman," cried Cum- berland, thi-owing himself on his knees l)efore him ; " I confess it all. I did allow Spicer to keep the cheque ; he threatened to expose me, and I did it to escape detection ; but promise you will not prosecute me and I will tell you where he may be fovmd, so that something may be done about it yet. I will pay anything you please. I shall come into money when I am of age, and I can make some anxingement. I don't care what I sacrifice, if I have to dig to earn my bread, only do not disgrace me publicly. Remember, I am very young, and, oh I if you knew what it is to be tempted as I have been ! Oaklands, Fairlegh, intercede for me ; think how you should feel, either of you, if you were placed in my situation ! " " Get up, Mr. Cuml)erland," observed Dr. Mildman, in a grave, impressive manner ; " it is equally needless and unbecoming to kneel to man for forgiveness — leani to consider that position as a thing set apart and sacred to the service of One greater than the sons of men — One whom you have indeed grievously offended, and to whom, in the solitude of your chamber, you will do well to kneel, and pray that He who died to save sinners may, in the fulness of His mercy, pardon you also." He paused, and then resumed : " We must decide what steps had better be taken to recover your cheque, Oaklands ; it is true we can send and stop the payment of it — but if you determine not to prosecute, for Cumberland's sake, you must let off this man Spicer also, in which case it would be advisable to prevent his pre- senting the cheque at all, as that might lead to inquiries which it would be difficult to evade. You said just now you knew where this bad man was to be found, Mr. Cumberland ? " " Yes, sir, if he is not at the billiard-rooms in F Street, his lodgings are at No. 14. Richmond Buildings," said Cumberland. " Ay, exactly," replied Dr. Mildman ; and resting liis head upon his hand, he remained for some minutes buried in thought. Having at length apparently made up his mind, he turned to Cumberland. 78 PRANK FAIRLEGH and said : " Considering aU the circumstances of the case, Mr. Cum- berland, although I most strongly reprobate your conduct, which has grieved and surprised me more than I can express, I am im willing to urge Oaklands to put the law in force against you, for more reasons than one. In the first place I wish to spare your uncle the pain which such an exposure must occasion him ; and, secondly, I cannot but hope that at your age so severe a lesson as this may work a permanent change in you, and that at some future period you may regain that standing among honourable men, which you have now so justly forfeited, and I am anxious that this should not be prevented by the stigma which a public examination must attach to your name for ever. I will therefore go at once with you to the abode of this man Spicer, calling on my way at the house of a legal friend of mine, whom I shall try to get to accompany \is. I presume we shall have no gi'eat difficulty in procuring restitution of the stolen letter, when the culprit perceives that his schemes are found out, and that it is consequently valueless to him. Having succeeded in this, we shall endeavoiu" to come to some equitable airangement in regard to his claims on you — do you agree to this ? " Cumberland bowed his head in token of assent, and Dr. Mildman continued, — " And you, Oaklands, do you approve of this plan ? " " It is like yourself, Doctor, the i)erfection of justice and kindness," replied Oaklands, warmly. *' That is well,'* resumed Dr. Mildman ; " I have one more painful duty to perform, which may as well be done at once^you are aware, Mr. Cumberland, that I must expel you ? " " Will you not look over my fault this once ? " entreated Cum- berland ; " believe me, I will never give you cause for complaint again." " No, sir," was the reply ; " in justice to yoiu* companions I cannot longer allow you to remain under the same roof with them ; it is my duty to see that they associate only with persons fitted for the society of gentlemen, amongst whom, I am sori-y to say, I can no longer class you. I shall myself accompany you to town to-moiTOw, and, if possible, see your uncle, to inform him of this vmhappy affair. And now, sir, prepare to go with me to this Captain Spicer ; — on our return you will oblige me by remaining in your room during the evening. Oaklands, will you ask Lawless to take my place at the dinner- table, and inform your companions that Cumberland has been engaged in an affair, of which I so strongly disapprove, that I have determined on expelling him, but that you are not at liberty to disclose the particulars. I need scarcely repeat this caution to you, Fairlegh ; you have shown so much good sense and right feeling throughout the whole business that I am certain you wiU respect my wishes on this head." I miurmiu'ed some words in assent, and so ended one of the most painful and distressing scenes it has ever been my fate to witness. FRANK FAIRLEGH 79 CHAPTER X. THE BOATING PARTY. " Fair langhs the mom, and soft the zephyr blows, As proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes ; Yonth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm." Gray'i Sard. " Bhall I not take mine ease in mine inn ? " Henry IV. The dinner passed off heavily ; evei-y attempt to keep up a continued conversation failed entirely ; and a general feeling of relief was experienced when the time aiT".ved for lis to retire to the pupils' room. Even here, however, the state of things was not much better. Law- less and the others, having in vain attempted to leana more of the affair from Oaklands and myself than we felt at liberty to tell them, lounged over a book, or dozed by the fire ; whilst we, unable to con- verse on the subject which alone engrossed our thoughts, and disinclined to do so upon any other, were fain to follow their example. About half -past eight Dr. Mildman and Cumberland retm-ned, and after dinner, which was served to them in the Doctor's study. Cum- berland retu-ed to his room, where he remained during the rest of the evening. Oaklands then received a siimmons from the Doctor, and on his return informed us that (as we had already heard) Cumberland was to be expelled. He added that Dr. Mildman intended to take him to town himself the next morning, as he was anxious to see Ciimberland's uncle, who was also his guardian : he would probably, therefore, not retiim till the foUowing day, in consequence of which we should have a whole holiday, and he trusted to us to spend it in a proper manner, which, as Coleman remarked, proved that he was of a very confiding disposition indeed, and no mistake. When we went up to bed Oaklands beckoned me into his room, and, as soon as he had closed the door, gave me an account (having obtained Dr. Mildman's permission to do so) of the interview with Spicer. They foimd him, it seemed, at his lodgings, preparing for his departure. At first he took a vei-y high tone, denied the whole thing, and was extremely blustering and impertinent ; but on being confronted with Cumberland, and threatened by Dr. Mildman's legal friend with the terrors of the law, he became thoroughly crestfallen, restored the three-hundi-ed-pound cheque, and consented, on the pay- ment of fifty pounds, in addition to the fifty pounds he had already received, to give up all claims on Cumberland, whereupon they paid him the money down, made him sign a paper to the above effect, and left him. " And so, my dear Frank," said Oaklands, " there is an end of that so FRANK FAIRLEGH affair, and if it only produces as much effect upon Cuml>erlaud as it has produced upon me, it will read him a lesson he will not forget for many a long day. I blame myself excessively," he continued, " for my own share in this matter ; if it had not been for my easy, careless way of going on, this scheme would never have been thought of — nay, I might, perhaps, have been able to rescue Cumberland from the hands of this sharper ; but in this manner we neglect the opportunities affoi'ded us of doing good, and — Fi'ank," he continued, with a sudden burst of energy, " I will cure myself of this abominable indolence.'' He paused for some minutes in thought, and then added, " Well, I must not stand here raving at you any longer : it is getting very late ; good-night, old fellow ! I shall be glad enough to tumble into bed, for I'm as tired as a dog ; it really is astonishing how easily I am knocked up." The absurdity of this remark, following upon the resolution he had expressed with so much energy but a minute before, sti-uck us both at the same instant, and occasioned a fit of laughter, which we did not check till we recollected with what dissonance any approach to mirth must strike the ear of the prisoner (for such he was in fact, if not in name) in the adjoining apartment. " Now, sir ; come, Mr. Fairlegh, you'll be late for breakfast," were the first sounds that reached my understanding on the following morning : — I say understanding, as I had heard, mixed up with my dreams, sundry noises produced by unclosing shutters, ai'ranging water-jugs, etc., which appeared to my sleep-bewildered senses to have been going on for at least half an hour. My faculties not being sufficiently aroused to enable me to speak, Thomas continued, " You'll be late, Mr. Fairlegh ; " then came an aside, " My wig, how he do sleep ! I hope he ain't been a-taking lauddelum, or morpheus, or anything of a somnambulous natur. I wouldn't be master, always to have six boys a-weighing on my mind, for all the wealth of the Ingies — Mr. Fairlegh, I say ! " " There, don't make such a row," replied I, jumping out of bed and making a dash at my clothes ; " is it late ? " " Jest nine o'clock, sir ; master and Mr. Cumberland's been gone these two hours. Shocking affair that, sir ; it always gives me quite a turn when any of our gents is expelled : it's like being thrown out of place at a minute's warning, as I said to cook ordy this morning. ' Cook,' says I, ' life's a cui-ious thing.' There's — " " The breakfast bell ringing, by all that's unlucky ! " exclaimed I; and downstairs I ran, with one arm in, and one out, of my jacket, leaving Thomas to conclude his speculations on the mutability of human affairs as he best might, solus. " How are we going to kill time to-day P " inquired Oaklands, as soon as we had done breakfast. " "We mustn't do anything to outrage the proprieties," said Cole- man ; " remember we are on ' parole d'honneur.' " "On a fiddlestick," intemioted Lawless; "let's all ride over to PRANK FAIRLEGH 81 the Duke of York, at Bradford, shoot some pigeons, have a cham- pagne breakfast, and be home again in time for the old woman's feed at five o'clock. I dare say I can pick up one or two fellows to go with us." " No," said Oaklands. "that soi-t of thing won't do to-day. I quite agree with Freddy: we ought not to do anything to annoy the Doctor upon this occasion ; come. Lawless, I am sure you'll say so too, if you give it a moment's thought." '■ Well, he's a good old fellow in his way, I know ; but what are we to be at, then ? something I must do, if it's only to keep me out of mischief." " It's a lovely day ; let us hire a boat, and have a row," suggested Coleman. " That's not against the laws, is it ? " asked Oaklands. " Not a bit," replied Coleman ; " we used to go puUing about like bricks last summer, and Mildman rather approved of it than other- wise, and said it was a very healthy exercise." " Yes, that will do," said Lawless ; " I feel savage this morning, and a good pull will take it out of me as well as anything. Now, don't go wasting time; let's get ready, and be oft"; " and accordingly in less than half an hour we were prepared, and on our way to the beach. " How are we going to do it? " inquired Lawless ; " you'll take an oar, Oaklands ? " Oaklands replied in the affirmative. " Can you row, Fairlegh ? " I answered that I could a little. '■ That will do famoiisly, then," said Lawless ; " we'll have a foui'- oar ; Wilson has a capital little boat that will be just the thing ; Freddy can steer, he's a very fair hand at it, and we four fellows will pull, so that we need not be bothered with a boatman. I do abominate those chaps, they are such a set of humbugs." No objection was made to this plan. Lawless succeeded in getting the boat he wished for : it was launched without any misadventure, and we took our places, and began pulling away merrily, with the wind (what little thei'e was) and tide both in our favour. The morning was beautiful : it was one of those enjoyable days, which sometimes occur in early spring, in which Nature, seeming to overleap at a bound the barrier between winter and summer, gives lis a delightful foretaste of the good things she has in store for us. The clear bright sea, its surface just ruffled by a slight breeze from the south-west, sparkled in the sunshine, and fell in diamond showers from our oars as we raised them out of the water, while the calm serenity of the deep blue sky above us appeared, indeed, a, fitting emblem of that heaven, in which "the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." The peaceful beauty of the scene seemed to impress even the restless spirits of which our little party was composed, and. by 82 FRANK FAIRLEGH common conBent, we ceased rowing, and suffered the boat to drift with the tide, merely pulling a stroke now and then to keep her head in the right direction. After drifting for some twenty minutes or so in the manner I have deBcribed, Lawless, who could never remain quiet long, dropped the blade of his oai- into the wat«r with a splash that made us all stai-t, exclaiming as he did so,— " Well, this may be very sentimental and romantic, and aU that 8ort of thing, but it doesn't stnke me as particularly entertaining. Why, you fellows were all asleep I believe." " Heigho! " exclaimed Oaklands, rousing himself, with a deep sigh. "I was in such a delicious reverie; what a barbarian you are. Lawless ! you seem utterly ignoi-ant of the pleasures of the ' dolce- far-niente.' " " Dolce-far-devilskin ! " was the reply, in tones of the greatest contempt. " I would not be as lazy as you are, Oaklands. for any money. You are fitter to lounge about in some old woman's drawing- room, than to handle iin oar." " Well, I don't know," answered Oaklands quietly, " but I think I can pull as long as you can." " You do, do you ? " rejoined Lawless ; " it will be odd to me, if you can. I don't think I was stroke oar in the crack boat at Eton for a year, without knowing how to row a little ; what do you say to having a try at once ? " " With all my heart," replied Oaklands, divesting himself of his waistcoat, braces, and neck-cloth, which latter article he braced tightly round his waist— an example speedily followed by Lawless, who exclaimed, as he completed his preparations, — *' Now, you young shavers, pull in your oars, and we'll give you a ride, all free, gratis, for nothing." Mullins and I hastened to comply with Lawless's directions, by placing the oars and seating ourselves so as not to interfere with the trim of the boat ; while he and Oaklands, each taking a firm grasp of his oar, commenced pulling away in real earnest. They were more evenly matched than may be at first imagined, for Lawless, though much shorter than Oaklands, was very square built and broad about the shoulders, and his arms, which were unusually long in proportion to his height, presented a remarkable development of muscle, while it was evident, from the manner in which he handled his oar, that he was the more practised rower of the two. The boat, urged by their powerful strokes, appeared to fly through the water, while cliff and headland (we were rowing along shore about half a mile from the beach) came in view and disappeared again like scenes m some moving panorama. We must now have proceeded some miles, yet still the rival champions continued their exertions with unabated energy, and a degree of strength that seemed inexhaustible. Greatly interested in the event, I had at first watched the contend- ing parties with anxious attention, but, perceiving that the efforts they were making did not produce any visible effects upon them, and FRANK FAIRLEGH 83 that the struggle was likely to be a protracted one, I took advantage of the oppoi-timity to open a letter from my sister, which I had received just as I was leaving the house. I was son-y to find, on perusing it, that my father had been suffeiing from an inflammatoiy attack, brought on by a cold which he had caught in returning from -a visit to a sick pai-ishionei', through a pouring rain. A postscript from my mother, however, added that I need not make myself in the least uneasy, as the apothecary assiu-ed her that my father was going on as well as ijossible and would probably be quite restored in the course of a week or so. On observing the date of the letter, I found I ought to have received it the day before. Ai-guing from this (on the " no news being good news " system) that I should have heard again if anything had gone wi-ong, I dismissed the subject from my mind, and was reading Fanny's account of a juvenile party she had been at in the neighbourhood, when my attenton was roused by Coleman, who, laying his hand on my shou der, said, — " Look out, Frank, it won't be long now before we shall see who's best man ; the work's beginning to tell." Thus invoked, I raised my eyes, and perceived that a change had come over the aspect of affairs while I had been engaged with my letter. Oaklands and Lawless were still rowing with the greatest energy, but it appeared to me that their strokes were di*awn with less and less vigovu* each succeeding time, while their flushed faces and heavy breathing proved that the severe labour that they had imder- gone had not been without its effect. The only visible difference between them was, that Lawless, from his superior training, had not .as a jockey would say, " turned a hair," while the perspiration hung in big drops upon the brow of Oaklands, and the knotted, swollen veins of his hands stood out like tightly-strained cordage. ■' Hold hard ! " shouted Lawless. " I say, Han-y," he continiied, as soon as they left off rowing, '* how are you getting on ? " " I have been cooler in my life," replied Oaklands, wiping his face with his handkerchief. " Well, I think it's about a drawn battle," said Lawless, " though I am free to confess that, if you were in proper training, I should be no match for you, even with the oar." " What made you stop just then ? " inquired Oaklands ; " I'm sui-e I could have kept on for a quarter of an hour longer, if not more." " So could I," replied Lawless, '" ay, or for half an hour, if I had been put to it ; but I felt the work was beginning to tell, I saw you were getting used up, and I recollected that we should have to row back with the wind against us, which, as the breeze is freshening, will be no such easy matter ; so I thought if we went on till we were both done up, we should be in a regular fix." "It's lucky you remembered it," said Oaklands ; " I was so excited, I should have gone on pulling as long as I could have held an oar 84 FRANK FAIRLEGH we must be some distance from Helmstone by this time- Have yoir any idea whereabouts we are P " " Let's have a look," rejoined Lawless. " Yes. that tall cliff you see there is the Nagr's Head, and in the little bay beyond stands the village of Fisherton. I vote we ero ashore there, have some bread and cheese, and a draught of porter at the inn. and then we shall be able to pull back again twice as well." This proposal seemed to afford general satisfaction ; Mullins and I resumed our oars, and in less than half an hour we were safely ensconced in the sanded parlour of the Dolphin, while the pretty barmaid, upon whom also devolved the duties of waitress, hastened to place before us a smoking dish of eggs and bacon, which we had chosen in preference to red herrings — the only other dainty the Dolphin had to offer us — Coleman observing that "a hard roe " was- the only part of a hemng worth eating, and we had that already, as we came along. " I say, my dear, have you got any bottled porter ? " inquired Lawless. " Tes, sir, and vei'y good it is." replied the smiling damsel. " That's a blessing," observed Coleman piously. " Bring us up a lot of it, my beauty," resumed Lawless, " and some pewter pots — portei''s twice as good out of its own native pewter." Thus exhoi'ted, the blooming waitress tripped off, and soon returned viith a basket containing six bottles of porter. " That's the time of day," said Lawless ; " now for a corkscrew, pi'etty one ; here you are, OakUinds." *' I must own that is capital, after such hard work as we have been doing," obsei-ved Oaklands. as he emptied the pewter pot at a draught. " I say, Mary," asked Coleman, " what's gone of that young man that used to keep company along with you — that nice young chap, that had such insinivatin' ways with him ? " " I'm siu'e I don't know what you're taking about, sir ; I've nothink to say to no young man whatsumever," replied the damsel addressed, shaking her curls coquettishly. " Ah ! " sighed Coleman, " if I were but single now ! " " Why, you never mean to say you've got a wife already, such a very young gentleman as you are ? " " Not only that, but a small family with a large appetite," con- tinued Coleman pathetically. " Well, I never ! " exclaimed the barmaid, surprised for once out of her company manners ; then, obsei*ving a smile at her expense going the round of the party, she added, " I see how it is ; you are making fun of me, sir ; oh, fie ! you're a wicked young gentleman, I know you are." " Never mind him, my dear," said Lawless, " but give me another bottle of porter." In converse such as this, the meal and the half-dozen of porter FRANK FAIRLEGH 85 were finished ; in addition to which, Lawless chose to have a glass of brandy-and-water and a cigar. Having been rendered unusually hungry by the sea air and the unaccustomed exercise of rowing, I had both eaten and drunk more than I was in the habit of doing, to which cause may be attributed my falling into a doze — an example which, I have every reason to believe, was foDowed by most of the others. I know not how long my nap had lasted, when I was aroused by hearing Coleman exclaim, — " Why, I think it rains ! Lawless, wake up ! I don't much like the look of the weather.'' " What's the row ? " inquired Lawless, leisurely removing his legs from the table on which they had been resting, and walking to the window — a feat, by the way, he did not perform quite as steadily as usual. " By Jove ! " he continued, " the wind's blowing great guns! we must look sharp, and be off — we shall have the sea getting up ! " Accordingly, the bill was rung forland paid ; Mai-y received half-a- crown and a kiss from Lawless, and down we ran to the beach, where diflBculties we were little prepared for awaited us. CHAPTER XL BREAKERS AHEAD ! " Now would I |!»ive a thousand furlongB of sea for an acre of barren pround. . . . The ■wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death." " I have great comfort from this fellow; methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him," — Tempest. The wind, which we had observed was rising when we landed, had increased during our stay at the inn, and was now blowing almost a gale from the south-west ; whilst the sea, which we had left smooth ■as a lake, was rolling in and breaking on the beach in somewhat fonnidable waves. " I tell you what," said Coleman, as soon as he had observed the state of affairs, " I won't attempt to steer in such a sea as that ; it requires great skill and judgment, besides a stronger hand than mine, to keep the boat's head right ; if I were to let her turn her broadside to one of those waves, it would be a case of 'Found drowned ' with some of us, before long." " What's to be done, then P " inquired Oaklands, '* I am sure I <;an't do it ; it's a thing I'm quite ignorant of ; all my boating having been on the river." 86 FRANK FAIRLEGH "Let's hire one of those amphibious 1)effprar8 out thero to steer for lis." proposed Lawless, pointing to a group o^ fishermen who were loun^inpr round an old boat, not far from where we stood; " they're uj) to all the riffht dodtres, you may depend. Here, my men ! which of you will earn half-a-^uinea, by steering our boat for us to Helmstone ? " "I wouldn't, master, for ten times the money," replied an old weather-beaten boatniau, in a tarpaulin hat ; " and if you'll take an old man's advice, gentlemen, you'll none of you venture out in that cockle-shell this afternoon ; the wind's getting up ereiT minute, and we shall have a rough night of it." " Nonsense," replied Lawless ; " I've often l)een out in worse weather than this. Are you, all of you, frightened by that old woman's croaking ? " continued he, turning to the group of men. " He's no old woman," replied a sturdy fellow, in a rough pea- jacket ; " he's been a better sailor than ever you'll be, and he's right now too," he added. " It's as much as a man's life is worth to go to sea in that bit of a thing, with the waves running in as they do now —and with such a set of landlubbers as them for a crew," he muttered, tuniing away. " Suppose we try and get something to take us home by land," suggested Oaklands, " and leave the boat for some of these good fellows to bring home as soon as the weather w^ill allow." " You'll have to walk, sir," replied one of them civilly ; " I don't believe there's a cart or horse in the place ; they all went inland this morning with fish, and won't return till to-morrow." "There, you hear that," said Lawless, who had just drunk enough to render him captious and obstinate. " I'm not going to walk to please anybody's fancy; I see how it is, — I did not bid high enough. A couple of guineas for anyone who will come with us," added he. " A couple of guineas is not to be got every day," observed a sidlen, downcast-looking man, who had not yet spoken ; " and it is not much odds to me whether I sink or swim now; those custom-house sharks," added he, with an oath, " look so close after one, that one can't do a stroke of work that will pay a fellow nowadays. Money down, and I'm your man, sir," he added, turning to Lawless. " That's the ticket," said Lawless, handing him the money. " I'm glad to see one of you, at least, has got a little pluck about him. Come along." I could see tnat Oaklands did not at all approve of the plan, e^adently considering we were running a foolish risk ; but, as nothing short of a direct quarrel with Lawless could have prevented it, hia habitual indolence and easy temper prevailed, and he remained silent. I felt much inclined to object, in which case I had little doubt the majority of the party would have supported me ; but a boyish dread, lest my refusal should be attributed to cowardice prevented my doing so. "With the assistance of the bystanders we FRANK FAIRLEGH 87 contrived to launch our little bark without further misadventure than a rather heavier sprinkling of salt water than was agreeable. Rowing in such a sea, however, proved much harder work than I. for one, had any idea of ; we made scarcely any way against the waves, and I soon felt sure that it would be utterly impossible for us to reach Helmstone by any exertions we were capable of making. The weather, too, was becoming worse every minute: it rained heavily, and it was with the greatest difficulty we were able to prevent the crests of some of the larger waves from dashing into our boat ; in fact, as it was, she was already half full of water, which poured in faster than Coleman (who was the only pei-son not otherwise engaged) could bale it out. " Upon my word, Lawless, it's madness to attempt to go on ! " exclaimed Oaklands ; " we are throwing away our lives for nothing." '■ It certainly looks rather queerish," replied Lawless. " "What do you say about it, my man ? " he asked of the person whom he had engaged to steer us. " I say," replied the fellow in a surly tone, " that our only chance is to make for the beach at once, and we shall have better luck than we deserve if we reach it alive." As he spoke, a larger wave than usual broke against the bow of the boat, flinging in such a body of water that we felt her stagger under it, and I believed, for a moment, that we were about to sink. This decided the question ; the boat's head was put about with some difficulty, and we were soon straining eveiT nerve to reach the shore. As we neared the beach, we perceived that even during the short time which had elapsed since we quitted it, the sea had become considerably rougher, and the line of surf now presented anything but an encouraging appearance. As we approached the breakei-s. the steersman desired us to back with our oars till he saw a favourable opportunity, and the moment he gave us the signal, to pull in as hard as we were able. After a short pause the signal was given, and we attempted to pull in as he had directed ; but in doing this we did not act exactly in concert— Lawless taking his stroke too soon, while Mullins did not make his soon enough ; consequently, we missed the precise moment, the boat turned broadside to the beach, a wave poured over us, and in another instant we were struggling in the breakers. For my own part. I succeeded in gaining my legs, only to be thrown ofE them again by the next wave, which hurried me along with it, and flung me on the shingle, when one of the group of fishermen who had witnessed the catastrophe ran in, and seizing me by the ainn, in time to prevent my being washed back again by the under-tow, dragged me out of the reach of the waves. On recovering my feet, my first impulse was to look round for my companions. I at once i)erceived Lawless, Mullins, and Oaklands, who were apparently uninjured, though the latter held his hand pressed against his forehead, as if in pain ; but Coleman was nowhere to be seen. " Where is Coleman ? " exclaimed I. 88 FRANK FAIRLEGH "There is Bomeone clinging to the boat still," observed a by- stander, I looked anxiously in the direction indicated, and iierceived the boat floating bottom upwards, just V)eyond the line of breakers while, clinging to the keel, was a figure which I instantly recognized to be that of Coleman. "Oh, save him, save him; he will be drowned ! " cried I, in an agony of fear. " Ten guineas for anyone who will get him out ! " shouted Lawless ; but nobody seemed inclined to stir. " Give me a rope," cried I. seizing the end of a coil which one of the boatmen had over his shoulder, and tying it round my waist. " What are you going to do ? " asked Lawless. While he spoke a large wave separated Coleman from the boat, and as it poured its huge volume upon the beach, bore him along with it. With the swiftness of thought I sprang foi-ward, and succeeded in throwing my arms round him. ere the next advancing wave dashed over us. And now my foresight in fastening the rope around me proved, under Providence, the means of saving both our lives. Though thrown to the ground by the force of the water, I contrived to retain my gi-asp of Colem:m, and we were hauled up and conveyed beyond the reach of the surf by the strong arms of those on shore ere another wave could approach to claim its victims. On recovering my consciousness (I had been partially stunned by the violence of my last fall), I found myself lying on the beach, with my head resting on the breast of Oaklands. " My dear, dear Fi-ank, thank God that you are safe ! " exclaimed he, pressing me more closely to him. " What of Coleman ? " asked I. endeavouring to raise myself. " They are taking him to the inn," was the reply : " I will go and see if I can be of any use, now I know you are \inhui-t ; but I could not leave you till I felt sure of that." " I fancied you seemed in pain just now," said I. "I struck my head against some part of the boat when she capsized," retiu-ned Oaklands, "and the blow stunned me for a minute or two, so that I knew nothing of what was going on till I saw you rush into the water to save Coleman; that roused me effectually, and I helped them to pull you both out. Frank, you have saved his life." " If it is saved," rejoined I. " Let us go and see how he is getting on ; I think I can walk now, if you will let me lean upon your arm." With the assistance of Oaklands I contrived to reach the inn without m\ich difficulty ; indeed, by the time I got there (the wi2k having served in a great measure to restore my circulation) I scarcely felt any ill effects from my late exei-tions. The inn presented a rare scene of confusion: people were hun-ying in and out, the messenger sent for the doctor had just returned, breathless, to say he -was not to be found ; the fat landlady, in a state of the greatest f^^^-AA;cCA*/v';t'<:^ ^ yi>i^l€U.£^ ta^n^ FRANK FAIRLEGH 89 excitement, was trottinpr about making: impi*acticable suggestions to which no one paid the slightest attention, while Coleman, still insensible, lay wrapped in blankets before a blazing fire in the parlour, with the pretty barmaid on her knees beside him sobbing piteously, as she chafed his temples with some strong essence. " That's the time of day ! " exclaimed Lawless, as his eye fell upon a printed card which the landlady had just thnist into his hand headed, " The directions of the Humane Society for the i-estoration of persons apparently dro\\-ned." " We shall hi>.ve it now all right," a^ded he, and then read as follows :— " The first observation we must make, which is most impoi-tant. is, that rolling the body on a tub—" " Bring a tub," cried the landlady eagerly, and off stai-ted several of the bystanders to follow her injunctions — " Is most injurious,"' continued Lawless ; " but holding up by the legs with the head downwai'ds " — a party of volunteers, commanded by the landlady, rushed forward to obtain possession of Coleman's legs — *' is certain death,'' shouted Lawless, concluding the sentence. While this was going on I had been i-ubbing Coleman's hands between my own, in the hope of restoring circulation : and now, to my exti-eme delight, I perceived a slight pulsation at the wrist; next came a deep sigh, followed by a tremulous motion of the limbs ; and before five minutes were over he was suificiently restored to sit up, and recognize those about him. After this, his recovery progressed with such rapidity, that ere half an hour had elapsed he was able to listen with interest to Oakland's account of the circumstances attending his i-escue, when Lawless, hastily entering the room, exclaimed, " Here's a slice of good luck, at aU events ; there's a rx)8tchaise just stopped, retuniing to Helmstone, and the boy agrees to take us all for a shilling a head, as soon as he has done watering his horses. How is Freddy getting on ?— wiU he be able to go ? " " All right, old fellow," replied Coleman. '* Thanks to Fairlegh in the first instance, and a stiff glass of brandy-and-water in the second, ' Richai-d's himself again ! ' " " Well, you've had a near shave for it this time, however," said Lawless; "there is more ti-uth than I was aware of in the old proverb, ' If you ai-e bom to be hanged you will never be drowned ; ' though, if it had not been for Frank Fairlegh, you would not have lived to fulfil your destiny." In another ten minutes we were all packed in and about the post- chaise ; Coleman, Oaklands, and myself occupying the interior, while Lawless and Mullins rode outside. The promise of an extra half- crown induced the driver to use his best speed. At a quarter before five we were within a stone's throw of home ; and if that day at dinner Mrs. Mildman obsei-ved the pale looks and jaded appearance of some of the party, I have every reason to believ6 she has remained up to the present hour in total ignorance as to their cause. 90 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XII. DEATH AND CHANGE. " The Toice which I did more esteem Than Music on her sweetest key ; Those eyes which unto me did seem More comfortfible than the day — Those now by me, as they have been. Shall never more be heard or seen ; But what I once enjoyed in them, Shall seem hereafter as a dream. " All earthly comforts vanish thiis. So little hold of them have we. That we from them, or they from us, May in a moment ravished be. Yet we are neither just nor wise If present mercies we despise. Or mind not how these may be made A thankful use of what we had." Wither. " Up sprinjjs at every step to claim a tear. Some youtliful friendship form'd and cherish'd here." Bogen. "Time flies away fast! The while we never rememl?er — How soon our life here GrTows old with the year That dies with the next December." Iltrrick. As I was undressing that night. Coleman came into my room, and grasping my hand with his own, shook it warmly, saying, " I covdd not go to sleep, Frank, without coming to thank you for the noble way in which you risked your own life to save mine to-day. I laughed it off before Lawless and the rest of the fellows, for when I feel deeply I hat€ to show it ; but, indeed " (and the tears stood in his eyes while he spoke), " indeed I am not ungi-ateful." " My dear Freddy," returned I, " do not suppose I thought you so for a moment ; there, say no more about it ; you would have done the same thing for me that I did for you had our positions been re- versed." " I am not so sure of that," was his reply ; " I should have wished to do so ; but it is not everyone who can act with such promptitude and decision in moments of danger." " There is one request I should like to make." said I. " What is it ? " replied he quickly. " Do not forget to thank Him whose instrument I was, for having so mercifully preserved your life." A silent pressure of the hand was the only answer, and we parted for the night. Owing, probably, to over-fatigue, it was some little time before I went to sleep. As I lay courting the fickle goddess (or god, as the case may be, for mythologically speaking, I believe Somnus was a he), I could not help contrasting my present feelings with those which I experienced on the first night of my arrival. Then, overcome FRANK FAIRLEGH 91 by the novelty of my situation, filled witli a lively dread of my tutor, bullied and despised by my companions, and separated for wbat I deemed an interminable period from all who were dear to me, my position was far from an enviable one. Now, how different was the aspect of affairs ! With my tutor, who, from an object of dread, had become one of esteem and affection, I had evei'y reason to believe myself a favourite ; I was on terms of the closest friendship with those of my companions whose intimacy was best worth cultivating ; while with the others I had gained a standing which would effectually prevent their ever ventui-ing seriously to annoy me ; and, above all, I had acquired that degree of self-confidence, without which one is alike impotent to choose the good or to refuse the evil. And it was with an honest pride that I reflected that this improvement in my position was mainly owing to a steady adherence to those principles which it had been the constant aim of imy dear parents to instil into me from my childhood. I fell asleep at last, endeavouring to picture to myself the delight of relating my adventures on my return home ; how my mother and sister would shudder over the dangers I had escaped, while my father would applaud the spirit which had can-ied me through them. The vision was a bright and happy one : would it ever be realized ? To our surprise, we learned the next morning that Dr. Mildman had arrived by the last coach the previous evening, having fortunately met with Cumberland's uncle at his house of business in town, and delivered his nephew into his safe custody without further loss of time. The breakfast passed over without the Doctor making any inquiry how we had amused ourselves during his absence, nor, as may easily be believed, did we volunteer information on the subject. On returning to the pupils' room, I foimd a letter, in my sister's hand- writing, lying on the table. With a feeling of dread for which I could not account. I hastened to penise it. Alas ! the contents only seiwed to realize my worst apprehensions. My father's illness had suddenly assumed a most alanning character, inflammation having attacked the lungs with such violence that the most active measures had failed to subdue it, and the physician whom my mother had summoned on the first appearance of danger, scarcely held out the slightest hope of his recovery. Under the circumstances, my mother wished me to return home without loss of time, as my father, Ijefore he became delirious, had desired that I might be sent for, expressing himself most anxious to see me ; and the letter concluded with a line in my mother's handwTiting, exhorting me to make every exertion to reach home without delay, if I wished to find him alive. For a minute or two, I sat with the letter stUl open in my hand, as if stiumed by the intelligence I had received ; then, recollecting that every instant was of importance. I sprang up, saying, " Where's Dr. Mildman ? I must see him directly." " My dear Fi-ank, is anything the matter ? you are not iU ? '' in- quired Oaklands, anxiously. 92 FRANK FAIRLEGH " Tou have received some bad news, I am afraid," said Coleman. " My father is vei*y ill, dyinp perhaps," replied I, while the tears, which I in vain endeavoured to restrain, trickled down my cheeks. After giving way to my feelings for a minute or two, the necessity for action again flashed across me. " What time is it now ? " inquired I, drying my eyes. " Just ten," replied Oaklands, looking at his watch. " There is a coach which stalls at the half-hour, is there not? " " Yes, the Highflyer, the best drag on the road," i-etumed Lawless ; " takes you to town in five hours, iind does the thing well too." " I must go by that, then," replied I. " What can I do to help you ? " asked Coleman. " If you would put a few things into my bag for me, while I speak to the Doctor," rejoined I. '* I will go and get a fly for you," said Lawless, " and then I can pick out a nag that will move his pins a bit ; that will save you ten minutes, and you have no time to lose." On acquainting Dr. Mildman with the sad intelligence 1 had re- <;eived, and the necessity which existed for me to depart immedi- ately, he at once gave me his peraiission to do so ; and after speaking kindly to me, and showing the deepest sympathy for my distress, said he would not detain me longer, as 1 must have preparations to make, but should like to see me the last thing before I started, and wish me good-bye. I found, on reaching my o^vn room, my carpet-bag already packed, Coleman and Thomas (whose honest face wore an expression of genuine commiseration) having exerted themselves to save me all trouble on that head. Nothing, therefore, remained for me to do, but to take leave of my fellow-pupils and Dr. Mildman. After shak- ing hands with Lawless and MuUrns (the former assuring me, as he did so, that I was certain not to be late, for he had succeeded in securing a trap, with a very spicy little nag in it, which would have me there in no time), I hastened to take leave of my tutor. Thekind- heai"ted Doctor inquired whether I had sufficient money for my journey, and begging me to write him word how I got home, shook me warmly by the hand, saying, as he did so, " God bless you, my boy ! I tinist you may find your father better ; but if this should not be the case, remember whose hand it is inflicts the blow, and strive to say, ' Thy will be done.' We shall have you among us again soon, I hope ; but should anything pi-event yom- return, I wish you to know that I am perfectly satisfied with the progress you have made in youi- studies ; and, in other respects, you have never given me a moment's uneasi- ness since you fii'st entered my house. Once more, good-bye ; and remember, if ever you should want a friend, you will find one in Samuel Mildman." The fly-horse proved itseK deserving of Lawless's panegyric, and I arrived at the coach-office in time to secure a seat outside the High- flyer. After taking an affectionate leave of Oaklands and Coleman, FRANK FAIRLEGH 93: who had accompanied me, I ascended to my place; the coachman mounted his box, exactly as the clock chimed the half-hour the horses sprang f oi"ward with a bomid, and ere ten minutes had elapsed, Helm- stone lay at least a couple of miles behind us. I accomplished my journey more quickly than I had deemed possible, and had the melancholy satisfaction of reaching home in time to receive my father's blessing. The powerful remedies to which they had been obliged to have recourse, had produced their effect, the inflammation was subdued ; but the struggle had been pro- tracted too long, and his constitution, already enfeebled by a life of constant labour and self-denial, was unable to rally. Having given me a solemn charge to cherish and protect my mother and sister, he commended us all to the care of Him who is emphatically termed " the God of the fatherless and widow ; " and then, his only earthly care being ended, he prepai-ed to meet Death, as those alone can do to whom " to die is gain." When the last beam of the setting sun threw a golden tint around the spire of the little village church, those lips which had so often breathed the words of prayer and praise within its sacred walls were mute for ever, and the gentle spirit which animated them had returned to God who gave it ! In regard to this portion of my career but little more remains to be told. My father's income being chiefly derived from his church preferment, and his charities having been conducted on too liberal a scale to allow of his laying by money, the funds which remained at my mother's disposal after winding up his affairs, though enough to secure us from actual poverty, were not sufficient to allow of my con- tinuing an inmate of an establishment so expensive as that of Dr, Mildman. On being informed of this change of circumstances, the Doctor wrote to my mother in the kindest manner, speaking of me in terms of praise which I will not i-epeat, and inquiring what were her future views in regard to me — expressing his earnest desire to assist them to the utmost of his ability. At the same time I received letters from Oaklands and Coleman, full of lamentations that I was not likely to return ; and promising, in the warmth of their hearts, that their respective fathers should assist me in all ways, possible and im- possible. Mr. Coleman, senior, in particular, was to do most unheard- of things for me : indeed, Freddy more than hinted, that through his agency I might consider myself secure of the Attorney-Generalship, with a speedy prospect of becoming Lord Chancellor. I also found enclosed a veiy characteristic note from Lawless ; wherein he stated that if I really was likely to be obliged to earn my own li\'ing, he could put me up to a dodge by which all the disagreeables of having so to do might be avoided. This infallible recipe proved to be a scheme for my turning stage-coachman ! After citing numerous examples of gentlemen who had done so (amongst whom the name of a cei*tain baronet stood forth in high pre-eminence) , he wound up by desiiing me to give the scheme my serious attention, and, if I agreed to it, to come and spend a month with him when he returned home at Midsummer ; 94 FRANK FAIRLEGH by the end of whicli time he would engape to turn me out as finished a " Waggoner" as ever handled the ribbons. To these letters I des- patched suitable replies, thanking the writers for their kindness, but refusing to avail myself of then- offers, at all events for the present ; and I finished by expressing the hope that, be my fate in life what it might, I should still preserve the regard and esteem of the friends whose affection I prized so highly. For some months after my father's death, I continued to live at the rectory ; Mr. Dalton, the new incumbent, who had been his curate, and was unmarried, kindly allowing my mother to remain there till her plans for the future should be so f ai- arranged as to enable her to determine in what part of the coimtry it would be advisable for her to reside. It had been my father's wish and intention, when I should have attained a fit age, to send me to one of the Universities— a wish my mother was most anxious to can-y into effect. In order to ac- complish this wish with her reduced means, it would have been necessary for her, not only to have practised the strictest economy, but also, in great measure, to have sacrificed my sister s education, as she would have been utteriy unable to afford the advantage of masters. To this, of course, I would not consent ; after much dis- cussion, therefore, the idea of college was reluctantly given up, and, as a last resource, my mother applied to an uncle of hers, engaged in the West India trade, begging him to endeavour to procure for me a clerkship in some mercantile establishment. She received a very kind reply, saying that although he considered me too young at present to be chained to a desk, he should advise me to apply myself diligently to the study of French and book-keeping ; and ending by offei-ing me a situation in his own counting-house, when I should be eighteen. As my only alternative lay between accepting this offer (however little suited to my taste) or remaining a burden upon my mother, it may easily be imagined that I lost no time in signifying my desire to avail myself of his kindness; and ere a couple of months had elapsed I had plunged deeply into the mysteries of book-keeping and could jabber French with tolerable fluency. I was still working away at " Double Entry," and other horrors of a like nature, when one morning I received a lai-ge business-like letter, in an unknown hand, the contents of which astonished me not a little, as well they might ; for they proved to be of a nature once more entirely to change my prospects in life. The epistle came from Messrs. Coutts, the bankers, and stated that they were commissioned to pay me the sum of four hundred pounds per annimi, in quarterly payments, for the purpose of defraying my expenses at college; the only stipulations being, that the money should be used for the pui-pose specified, that I did not contract any debts whatsoever, and that I made no inquiries, direct or indirect, as to the source from which the sum proceeded. In the event of my complying with these conditions, the same allowance was to be continued to me till I sbould have taken my degree. FRANK FAIRLEGH 95 The immediate consequence of this most unexpected communication ■was, our devoting the greater part of a morning to vain speculations as to the possible source from which this liberal offer might have proceeded. After guessing everyone we could think of, likely or unlikely, we ended, as is usual in such cases, by becoming decidedly more puzzled than when we began. The only person with whom I was acquainted ijossessing both the will and the power to do such a thing was Sir John Oaklands ; but he had already, in the kindest manner, tried to persuade my mother to allow me to accompany Harry to Trinity CoUege, Cambridge, begging to be permitted to defray the expenses of my so doing himself ; an offer which she (not ■choosing to place herself under so heavy an obligation to a compara- tive stranger) had, with many expressions of gratitude, declined. After consulting with our friend Mr. Dalton, it was decided that I should signify to Messrs. Coutts my readiness to comply with the required conditions, begging them to convey my best thanks to my mysterious benefactor, and to inform him that it was my intention (subject to his approval) to enter my name at Trinity without loss of time. In answer to this I received the following laconic epistle : — " Messrs. Coutts beg to inform Mr. Frank Fairlegh that, in reply to his favom* of the 21st ult., they are desired to state that the sum of four hundi'ed pounds per annum will be placed at his disposal whenever he applies for it." I now resumed myistudies under the superintendence of Mr. Dalton, who had taken a good degree at Cambridge ; and alike delighted at my escape from the counting-house, and anxious to do credit to my benefactor's liberality, I detennined to make the best use of my time, and worked " con amore." In this manner, the next year and a half passed away without anything worthy of remark occun-ing. I was happy to perceive a gradual improvement taking place in my mother's health and spirits, while Fanny was developing into a very pretty and agreeable girl. Towards the expiration of this period, Mr. Dalton saw fit to take unto himself a wife, a circumstance which induced my mother to accept the offer of a cottage belonging to Sir John Oaklands, which was suited to her limited means. It was situated within the park gates, about a mile from Heathfield Hall, and, though small, appeared well-built, and exceedingly pretty. This was an arrangement of which I highly approved, as it enabled me to renew my intercourse with Hairy, who, having left Dr. Mild- man's, was spending a few months at home with his father, previous to his matriculation at Trinity. I found him but little altered in any respect, save that he had become more manly-looking. For the rest, he was just as good-tempered, kind-hearted, and, alas ! indolent as ever. He informed me that Lawless also was going to Cambridge, and that Coleman, when he learned what a party of us there would be, had been most anxious to accompany us ; but his father, unfortunately, did not approve, and he was now articled to a 90 PRANK PAIRLEGH solicitor, with a view to his succeeding? eventually to his father's practice. Time rolled on, and another three months beheld us duly installed in our rooms at Trinity, and dividing? our time between reading- (more or less, in accordance with oui- various idiosyncrasies), boating? on the Cam, billiard-playing at Chesterton, " et hoc genus omne." Of the details of my college life I shall say but little, a piece of forbearance for which I consider myself entitled to the everlasting gratitude of my readers, who, if they have not had their curiosity on that subject more than satisfied by the interminable nan-ations of " Peter Priggins," and his host of imitators, must indeed be insatiable. Suffice it, then, to say that, having from the first determined, if possible, to obtain a good degree. I made a resolute stand against the advances of Lawless (who, in consequence of his father's having for some reason best known to himself and the premier, received a peerage, had now become an '* honourable ") and the " rowing set." amongst whom, by a sort of fi-eemasonry of kindred souls, he had become em-oUed immediately on his arrival. After several fruitless attempts to shake my determination, they pronounced me an in- coiTigible " sap," and, leaving me to my own de\aces, proceeded to ti-y theu- powers upon Oaklands. They met with but little success in this quarter, however ; not that with him they nad any indomitable love of study to contend with, but that " all that sort of thing was too much trouble; he really didn't believe there was a single fellow among the whole lot who had the slightest appreciation of the ' dolce far niente.' " When, however, they found out that upon an emergency HaiTy could excel them all — whatever might be the nature of the feat to be performed— and that I could cross a country, pull an oar, or handle a bat with the best of them, they set us down as a pair of eccentric geniuses, and as such admitted us to a kind of honorary membership in their worshipful society ; and thus, 'twixt work and play, the first two years of my residence at Cambridge passed happily enough. FRANK FAIRLEGH 97 CHAPTER XIII. CATCHING A SHEIMP. " Give me that boy." — Shakefpeare. ' ' I was there From college, visiting the son." Prineett. ■" To bring in, Heaven shield us, a lion among ladies, is a meet dreadful thing." ■ Skaketipeare. " A MIGHTY stupid chapter that last ! " " True for you, reader ; but how was it to be avoided ? It was necessary to give you that short summary of my proceedings, the better to enable you to imderstand all that is to follow, and so don't you see—" " Yes, that will do. Above all things. Master Frank, avoid being prosy ; it is the worst fault an author can fall into." " Reader, you're very cross ! " It was towards the close of the long vacation that, one morning, as I was sitting at breakfast with my mother and sister, a note was brought to me. On opening it, it proved to be from Coleman, whose father had lately taken a country house near HiDingford, a small town about fifteen miles from Heathfield, where he was now about to give a grand ball to all the neighbourhood by way of house-warm- ing. At this ball, Freddy (with whom I had kept up a constant con-espondence, though we had never met since I left Dr. Mildman's) was most anxious I should be present, and his letter was really a masterpiece of persuasion : not only should I meet all the beauty and fashion of the county, but he had for some days past employed himself in paving the way for me with several of the most desirable young ladies of his acquaintance, who were now, as he assiired me, actually pining to be introduced to me. Moreover, the Honourable George Lawless had promised to be there ; so we were safe for fun of some soi-t, Lawless's tastes and habits being about as congenial to the atmosphere of a ball-room as those of a bull to the interior of a china-shop. These manifold temptations, together with the desu-e of again meeting Freddy himself, proved irresistible, and I decided to go. Oaklands, who had received a similar invitation, was unluckily not able to accept it, as his father had fixed a shooting-party for that day, at which, and at the dinner that was to follow, Han-y's presence was indispensable. It was in the aftei-noon of a glorious September day that I set off on horseback for Hillingford. I had accompanied the sportsmen in the morning, and had walked just enough to excite without fatiguing myself ; and now the elastic motion of the horse (a valuable himter of Sir John's), the influence of the fair scene around me, as I cantered over the smooth turt of Heathfield Park, and H 98 FRANK FAIRLEGH alonpT the prreen lanes beyond it— the prospect of seeing a{?ain an old companion of my boyhood's days— all contributed to produce in nie an exhilaration of spirits which seemed to raise me above the- '* kleinigkeiten," the littlenesses (as the Germans so well express it) of this world, and to exalt me to some higher and noVjler sphere. Out of this day-dream I was at length aroused by the clatter of horses' feet, and the rattle of wheels in the lane behind me, while a man's voice in tones not of the most gentle description, accosted me as follows : " Now then, sir, if you've got a licence to take up the whole road, I'll just trouble you to show it ! " With a touch of the spur I caused my horse to bound on one side, and, as I did so, I turaed to look at the speaker. Perched high in mid-air. upon some mysterious species of dog-cart bearing a striking resemblance to the box of a mail coach, which had contrived, by some private theory of development of its own, to dis])ense with its l)ody, while it had enlarged its wheels to an almost incredible circumference^perched on the top of this remark- able machine, and enveloped in a white great-coat undermined in every direction l)y strange and unexpected pockets, was none other than the Honourable George Lawless ! The turn-out was drawn by a pair of thorough-breds, driven tandem, which were now (their iras- cible tempers being disturbed by the delay which my usurpation of the road had occasioned) relieving tlieir feehngs by executing a kind of honipipe upon their hind legs. The equipage was completed by a tiger, so small that, beyond a vague sensation of top boots and a livei-y hat. one's senses failed to realize him. " Why, Lawless ! " exclaimed I, " you are detennined to astonish the natives, with a vengeance ; such a tmn-out as that has never been seen in these parts before, I'm cei-tain." " Frank Fairlegh, by Jove ! How ai-e you, old fellow ! Is it my trap you're talking about ? What do you think of it ? rather the thing, isn't it, eh ? " I.signified my approval, and Lawless continued, " Yes, it's been very much admired, I assiu'e you ; — quiet, mare ! quiet! — not a bad sort of dodge to knock about in, eh?— What are you at, fool ! — Tumble out, Shrimp, and hit Spiteful a lick on the nose — he's eating the mare's tail. Spicy tiger, Shrimp — did you ever hear how I picked him up ? " I replied in the negative, and Lawless resumed, — " I was down at Broadstairs, the beginning of the long — wi-etched place, but I went there for a boat-race with some more fellows ; well, of course, because we wanted it to be fine, the weather turned sulky,, and the boat-race had to be put off; so, to prevent ourselves from going melancholy mad, we hired a drag and managed to get together a team, such as it was. The fii-st day we went out they elected me waggoner, and a nice job I had of it ; thi-ee of the horses had never been in harness before, and the fom'th was a bolter. It was jjretty near half an hour before we could get them to stai-t ; and, when they were off, I had enough to do to keep their heads out of the shop windows. However, as soon as they began to get warm to their FRANK PAIRLEGH 99 work, tilings improved and we rattled along menily. We wex'e spinning away at about twelve miles an hour, when, just as we were getting clear of the town, we came suddenly upon a covey of juvenile blackguards, who were manufacturing dirt-pies right in the centre of the road. As soon as I saw them, I sung out to them to clear the course, but before they had time to cut away, we were slap into the middle of them. Well, I thought it was to be a regular case of Herod, and that there would be at least half-a-dozen of them spiffli- cated ; but they all managed to save their bacon, except Shrimp — one of the wheels went over him and broke him somewhere. Where was it. Shrimp ? " " Left arm, sir, if you please," replied Shrimp, in a shrill treble. " Ay, so it was," continued Lawless. " As soon as I could contrive to pull up, I sent the groom back, with orders to find a doctor, get the boy repaired, and tell them to come to me at the hotel in the morning, and I'd pay for all damages. Accordingly, while I was eating my breakfast next morning, an amphibious old female in a blue pea-jacket was shown in to me, who stated she was Shrimp's mother. First, she was extremely lachrymose, and couldn't speak a word ; then she got the steam up, and began slanging me till all was blue : I was ' an unchi*istian-Uke, hard-hearted, heathen Turk, so I was, and I'd been and sp'iled her sweet ;boy completely, so I had ; such a boy as he was too, bless him ; it was quite a sight to hear him say his catechism ; and as to reading his book, he'd beat the parson himself into fits at it.' Fortunately for me, she was a little touched in the wind, and when she pulled up to take breath for a fresh start, I managed to cut in. 'I tell you what it is, old lady,' said I, ' there's no need for you to put yourself into a fury about it ; misfortunes will happen in the best regulated families, and it seems to me a boy more or less can make no great odds to anyone — no fear of the breed becom- ing extinct just at present if one may judge from appearances ; how- ever, as you seem to set a value upon this particular boy, 111 tell you what I'll do : I'll buy him of you, and then, if anything should go wrong with him, it will be my loss and not yours. I'll give you twenty poimds for him. and that's more than he would be worth if he was sound.' By Jove ! the old girl brightened up in a moment, wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her coat, and said : ' Five pounds more, and it's a bargain.' And the end of it all was, the brat got well before I left the place ; I paid the old woman her money, and brought Shrimp away with me, and it hasn't turned out such a bad spec either, for he makes a capital tiger ; and now I've broken him in, I would not take twice the money for him. You'll be at old Coleman's hop to-night, I suppose ; so bye ! bye ! for the present." Thus saying, he di-ew the whip lightly across the leader's back, the horses sprang forward, and in another moment he was out of sight. Half an hour's ride brought me within view of Elm Lpdge, the house lately taken by Mr. Coleman, senior. As I rang at the bell a 100 FRANK FAIRLEGH fi^ire leaped out of one of the front windows, and came boundinfr across the lawn to meet me. and in another minute my hand was seized and my arm nearly shaken off by Coleman. " Freddy, old boy ! " " Frank, my deai- old fellow ! " were our mutual exclamations, as we once more shook hands with an ener^ which must have highly edified a pompous footman whom my ring had summoned. After the first excitement of oui* meeting had a little subsided we found time to examine each other more minutely, and note the changes a couple of yeai-s had wought in us. Coleman was the first to speak. " Why, Frank, how you are altered ! " " If you were but decently civil, you would say ' improved ' instead of ' altered,' " replied I ; " but you'll never leara manners." " Oh, if you want compliments I'll soon get up a few, but it strikes me they are not required. A man with such a face and figure as youi'8 soon finds out that he is a deucedly good-looking fellow. Why, how high do you stand P " " About six feet without my boots," replied I, laughing at Coleman, who kept tuiTiing me round, and examining me from top to toe, as if I had been some newly-discovered animal. "Well, you are a screamer, and no mistake," exclaimed he at length. " Be merciful towards the yoimg ladies to-night, or the floor wiU be so cumbered with the heaps of slain that we shall have no room to dance." "Never fear," rejoined I, "the female breast is not so susceptible as you imagine ; and I'll back your bright eyes and merry smile to do more execution than my long legs and broad shoulders any day." " No soft sawder, Master Frank, if you please ; it's an article for which I've a pai-ticular distaste : people never make pretty speeches to one's face without laughing at one behind one's back afterwards by way of compensation." " Which inile of course applies to the remarks you have just been making about me," returned I. " You've caught me there fairly," laughed Coleman ; " but come along in, now, I want to introduce you to my mother and the govei-nor ; they are longing to see you after all I've told them about you, though I can't say you look much like the thin delicate youth I have desci'ibed you." Mr. Coleman, who was a short, stout, red-faced old gentleman, with a bald head and a somewhat pompous manner, came forward and welcomed me warmly, saying all sorts of complimentary things to me in extremely high-flown and gi-andiloquent language, and referring to my having saved his son's life, in doing which, however* he quite won my heart by the evident pride and affection with which, he spoke of Freddy. The lady of the house was a little, round, men'y-looking woman, chiefly remarkable (as I soon discovered) for a pecxdiar mental obliquity, leading her always to think of the wrong FRANK FAIRLEGH 101 thing at the wrong time, whei-eby she was perpetually becoming involved in gi-ievous colloquial entanglements, and meeting with innumerable small personal accidents, at which no one laughed so heartily as herself. About half -past nine that evening some of the guests began to aiTive, amongst the foremost of whom was Lawless, most expensively got up for the occasion in a stock and waistcoat, which, as Coleman obsei-ved, required to be seen ere they could be believed in. As the arrivals succeeded each other more rapidly, and the rooms began to fill, Lawless took me by the arm and led me to a comer, whence, unnoticed ourselves, we could obsen'e the whole scene. " This wiU be a very full meet. Fairlegh," he began ; " I'm getting confoundedly nervous, I can teU you ; I'm not used to this sort of affair, you know ; I used always to shirk eveiything of the kind, but my Mater has got it into her head, since she's become ' My Lady,' that she must flare up and give balls, because ' ladies of rank always do so.' forsooth ; and so she's taken me in hand, to try and polish me up into something like ' a man of fashion,' as she calls those con- founded puppies one sees lounging about drawing-rooms. Well, as I didn't like to rile the old woman by refusing to do what she wanted, I went to a French moimseer, to teach me my paces ; I've been in training above a month, so I thought I'd come here just as a sort of trial to see how I could go the pace." " This is your ' debut,' in fact," returned L " My how much ? " was the reply. " Oh, I see, starting for the maiden stakes, for untried horses only— that sort of tiling— eh? Yes, it's the first time I've been regularly entered ; I hope I shan't bolt off the course ; I feel uncommon shy at starting, I can assure you." "Oh, you'll do very well when you're once off ; your partner will tell you if you are going to make any mistake," replied I. " My partner, eh ? You mean one of those white-muslined young ladies, who is to ran in double harness with me, I suppose ?— that's another sell ; — I shall be expected to talk to her, and I never know what to say to women ; if one don't pay 'em compliments, and do a bit of the sentimental, they set you down as a brute directly. What an ass I was to come here ! I wish it was bed-time ! " " Nonsense, man ; never be afraid ! '" exclaimed Freddy, who had just joined us ; " I'll pick you out a partner who's used to the thing, and will do all the talking herself, and be glad of the opportunity of giving her tongue a little exercise ; and here comes the very girl, of aU others— Di Clapperton." Then, turning towards a tall, showy- looking girl, who had just arrived, he addressed her with— " Delighted to see you, Miss Clapperton ; a ball-room never appears to me properly ai-ranged till it is gi-aced by yoiu- presence : here's my friend, the Hon. George Lawless, dying to be intro'duced to you." '• Pleasm-e— ar— dancing— with you, eh ? " muttered tbe Hon. 102 FRANK FAIRLEGH George, giving a little quick nod between each word, and getting very red in the face. The young lady smiled a gracious assent, and saying, " I think they are forming a quadrille— shall we take our places P " marched him off in triumph. "Frank, are you provided; or can I do anything for you?" inquired Coleman. "Who is that interesting-looking girl, with dark hair?" asked I, in return. " What, the she-male with the white camellia in her head, leaning on the arm of that old fellow with the cast-iron face? What a splendid pair of eyes she has got! I'll find out her name, and get you introduced," replied Coleman, disappeai-ing in the crowd. In a minute or two he returned, and informed me that the young lady's name was Saville. " You've not made such a bad hit either," continued he ; " they tell me she's to be a great heiress, and old Ironsides there is her guardian. They say he keeps her shut up so close that nobody can see her; he would hardly let her come to-night, only he's \mder some business obligations to my goveraor, and he persuaded him to bring her, in order to give me a chance, I suppose." " What an expression of sadness there is in those deep-blue eyes of hers ! I am afraid she is not happy, poor thing ! " said I, half think- ing aloud. " Why, you're getting quite romantic about it ! " returned Coleman ; "for my pai-t, I think she looks rather jolly than othei-wise ;— see how she's laughing with my cousin, Lucy ; by Jove, how her face lights up when she smiles !— she's very decidedly pretty. Well, will you be introduced ? — they are going to waltz." 1 signified my assent, and Coleman set off in seai'ch of his father to perform the ceremony, not having courage enough himself to face "old Stiff-back," as he irreverently termed the yoimg lady's guardian. " I am soiTy to refuse yom- yoimg friend, Mr. Coleman," was the reply to my introduction ; " but Miss Saville never waltzes." " Come, don't be crabbed, Venaor ; young people ought to enjoy themselves ; recollect we were yovmg ourselves once ! " " If old Time had dealt as leniently by me as he seems to have done by you, Coleman, I should consider myself young yet," replied Mr. Vemor. "I believe I have spoken my ward's wishes upon this point ; but, if it would be more satisfactory to your friend to hear her decision from her own lips I can have no objection — Clara, my dear, this gentleman, Mr. Fairlegh, does you the honour of wishing to waltz with you." Thus accosted. Miss Saville raised her eyes to my face for a moment, and instantly casting them down again, coloured slightly, as she replied—" If Mr. Fairlegh will excuse me, I had rather not waltz." FRANK FAIRLEGH 103 I coiild, of coiu'se, only bow in acquiescence, and was turning away when old Mr. Coleman stopped me with, — "There, wait a minute, Mr. Fairlegh; my little niece, Lucy Markham, will be only too glad to console you for your disappoint- ment ; she's never so happy as when she's waltzing." " If you ai'e impertinent, uncle, I'll make you waltz with me till you're quite tired, by way of punishment ! " replied his niece, as she accepted my proffered arm. During a pause in the waltz I referred to the refusal just received, and asked my partner (a lively little brunette, with very white teeth, and a bewitching smile) whether her friend Miss Saville were not somewhat of a prude ? " Poor dear Clai-a— a prude ?— oh no ! " was the reply. " You mean because she would not waltz. I suppose ? " I bowed my head in assent, and she continued, — " I gave you credit for more penetration, Mr. Fairlegh ; did you not •see it was all that hoiiible Mr. Venior, her guardian ? — he chose her not to waltz ; and she is too much afraid of him to dare to do any- thing he does not approve ; — he would hardly let her come here to-night, only Uncle Coleman won-ied him into it." *' She is exceedingly pretty," remarked I ; " there is something peculiar in the expression of those beautiful blue eyes which particu- larly pleases me ; an earnest, trustful look, which — you will laugh at what I am going to say — which I have never seen before, except in the eyes of a dog ! " " Oh ! I know so well what you mean," replied my partner ; " I have observed it often, but I never should have known how to express it. What a good idea ! " " May I ask whether you are vej"y intimate with her ? Is she an old friend of yours ? " " No, I never saw her till my uncle took this house ; but Mr. Vemor sometimes brings her with him when he drives over on business, and she comes and sits with me while they are puzzling about their parchments. I like her so much ; she seems as agreeable and good as she is pretty." " How is it," asked I, " that my friend Freddy did not know her by •sight even ? — he had to inquire her name this evening." " Why, Frederick is generally obliged to be in town, you know; and I have observed that when he is down here Mr. Veraor never brings her with him." " He had better make a nxm of her at once," said I. " Perhaps she won't be a niin ! " said, or rather sang, Lucy. And here we joined the waltzers again, and the conversation ended. 104 FRANK PAIRLEGH CHAPTER XIV. THE BALL. " I could be pleased with any one Who entertftined my 8ijrht with such trny shows As men and women moving here ami there ; Thnt coursintr one nnother in their steps. Have mtide their feet h tMj\G."—Dri/den. " And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake." " Come now, what . . . shall we have, To wear away this long age of three hours. Between our after-supper and hed-timo ? " Midtumtrer yiykt't Dream. "By Jove! this is hot work !" exclaimed Lawless, flinging himself down on a sofa so \'iolently as to make an old lady, who occupied the- farther end of it, jump to an extent which seriously disarranged an Anglo- Asiatic nondescript, believed in by her as a turban, wherewith she adomed her aged head. " If I have not been going the pace like a bi-ick for the last two hours, it's a pity; what a girl that Di Clappei-ton is to step out '.—splendid action she has, to be sure, and giving tongue all the time too. She's in first-rate training, 'pon my word : I thought she'd have sewn me up at one time — the pace was tei-rific. I must walk into old Coleman's champagne before I make a fresh stai-t ; when I've recovered my wind, and got a mouthful of hay and water, I'll have at her again, and dance till all's blue before I give in." " My dear fellow," said I, " you must not dance all the evening with the same young lady ; you'll have her brother call upon you the first thing to-moiTOw morning to know youi- intentions." " He shall very soon learn them as far as he is concerned, then," replied Lawless, doubling his fist. " Let me have him to myself for a quiet twenty minutes, and I'll send him home with such a face on him that his nearest relations will be puzzled to recognize him for the next month to come at least. But what do you really mean ? " " That it's not etiquette to go on dancing with one young lady the whole evening ; you must ask someone else." " Have all the bother to go over again, eh ? what a treat ! Well, we live and learn ; it will require a few extra glasses of champagne to get the steam up to the necessary height, that's all. And there they are going down to supper; that's gloi-ious!" and away he boitnded to secm-e Miss Clapperton's arm, while I offered mine to the tui'baned old lady, to compensate for her late alaiiii. After supper the dancing was resumed with fresh energy, the champagne having produced its usual exhilarating effects upon the exhausted frames of the dancers. Notwithstanding my former repulse, I made a successful attempt to gain Miss Saville's hand for FRANK FAIRLEGH 105 a quadrille, though I saw, or fancied I saw, the scowl on Mi-. Vernor's sour countenance grow deeper, as I led her away. My perseverance was not rewarded l>y any very interesting results, for my partner, who was either distressingly shy, or acting xmder constraint of some kind, made monosyllabic replies to eveiT remark I addressed to her, and appeared relieved when the termination of the set enabled her to rejoin her grim i^rotector. " Of all the disagreeable faces I ever saw, Mr. Vei-nor's is the most repulsive," said I to Coleman ; " were I a believer in the power of the ' evil eye,' he is just the sort of looking person I should imagine would possess it. I am certain I have never met him before, and yet, strange to say, there is something which appears familiar to me in his expi-ession, particularly when he frowns." " He is a savage-looking old guy," replied Freddy, " and bullies that sweet girl shockingly, I can see. I should feel the greatest satisfaction in punching his head for him, but I suppose it would be hardly the correct thing on so short an acquaintance, and in my father's house too ; eh ? " " Not exactly," replied I, turning away with a smile. When Lawless made his appearance after supper, it was evident by his flushed face, and a slight unsteadiness in his manner of walk- ing, that he had caiTied his intentions with regard to the champagne into effect ; and, heedless of my warning, he proceeded to lay violent siege to Miss Clapperton, to induce her to waltz with him. I was watching them with some little amusement, for the struggle in the young lady's mind between her sense of the proper, and her desire to waltz with an Honourable, was very apparent, when I was requested by Mrs. Coleman to go in search of a cloak appertaining to the tur- baned old lady whom I had escorted down to supper, and who, being delicate in some way or other, required especial care in packing up. Owing to a trifling mistake of Mrs. Coleman's (who had described a red worsted shawl as a blue cloth cloak, which mistake I had to discover and rectify), my mission detained me some minutes. As I re-entered the ball-room, shawl in hand, I was startled by the crash of something liea^ir falling, followed by a shriek from several of the ladies at the upper end of the room ; and on hastening to the scene of action, I soon perceived the cause of their alarai. During my absence, Lawless, Laving succeeded in overcoming Ikliss Clappei-ton's scinaples, had recommenced waltzing with the gi'eatest energy ; but unfortunately, after going round the rooiii once or twice, " the pace," as he called it, becoming faster at eveiy tiuTi, the combined effects of the champagne and the unaccustomed exercise rendered him exceedingly giddy, and just before I entered the room, he had fallen against a small table supporting a handsome china candelabi-um, containing several wax lights, the overthrow of which had occasioned the grand crash which I heard. The cause of the shriek, however, still remained to be discovered, and a' nearer approach instantly i-endered it apparent. One of the wax candles,. 106 FRANK FAIRLEGH which had not been extinguished in its fall, had rolled against the ball dress of Mies Saville, who happened to be seated next the table, and set it on fire. After making an ineffectual attempt to put it out with her hands, she became alai'med, and as I approached, started wildly up, with the evident intention of rushing out of the room. Without a moment's hesitation I sprang forward, caught her in my arms, and flinging the worsted shawl over her tb'ess, which was just beginning to blaze, enveloped her in it, and telling her if she only i-emained quiet she would be perfectly safe, laid her on the floor» while I continued to hold the thick shawl tightly down, till, to my very gi-eat delight, I succeeded in extinguishing the flames. By this time several gentlemen had gatliered ro\ind us, eager with their advice and offers of assistance. Having satisfied myself that the danger was entirely over. I raised Miss Saville from the gi-ound, and making way through the crowd, half led, half earned her to the nearest sofa. After placing her carefully upon it, I left her to the care of Mrs. Coleman and Lucy Markham, while I sought out the turbaned old lady, whose shawl 1 had so imceremoniously made use of, and succeeded in making my peace with her, though I believe, in her own secret breast, she considered Miss SaWlle's safety dearly purchased at the expense of her favourite whittle. As I approached the sofa again, the following words, in the harsh tones of Mr. Vemor's voice, met my ear, — " I have ascertained our can-iage is here ; as soon, therefore, as you feel strong enough to walk, Clara, my dear, I should advise your accompanying me home ; quiet and rest are the best remedies after such an alarm as this." " I am quite ready, sir," was the reply, in a faint tone of voice. " Nay, wait a few mimates longer," said Lucy Markham, kindly ; " you are trembling from head to foot even yet." " Indeed I am quite strong ; I have no doubt I can walk now," replied Miss Saville, attempting to rise, but sinking back again almost immediately from faintness. " Can I be of any assistance ? " inquired I, coming forward. " I am obliged to you for the trouble you have already taken, sir," answered Mr. Vemor, coldly, "but will not add to it. Miss Saville will be able to proceed with the assistance of my ai-m in a few minutes." After a short pause, the young lady again announced her readiness to depart ; and, having shaken hands with Mrs. Coleman and Lucy Markham, turned to leave the i-oom, leaning on Mr. Yemor's ai*m. As I was standing near the door, I stepped forward to hold it open for them, Mr. Vemor acknowledging my civility by the slightest imaginable motion of the head. Miss Saville, as she approached me, paused for a moment, as if about to speak, but apparently relinquish- ing her intention, merely bowed, and passed on. " Well, if it's in that sort of way fashionable individuals demon- ■strate theii- gratitude for having their lives saved, I must say I don't '^'^y ff>i«W*l^i .//,. '^:xZ^ ^ y^^^4^ .^^y ^, ^^i2>?z.a^CiZl'-t(^:/m^ FRANK FAIRLEGH 107 admire it," exclaimed Coleman, who liad witnessed tlie cool behaviour of Mr. Vemor and his ward ; " it may be very genteel, but, were I in your place I should consider it unsatisfactory in the extreme, and allow the next inflammable yo\ing lady who might happen to attract' a spai'k in my presence, to consume as she pleased, without inter- fering ; and peace be to her ashes ! " "It was most fortunate that I happened to have that thick shawl in my hand," said I ; "in another minute her whole dress would have been in a blaze, and it would have been next to impossible to save her. What courage and self-command she showed ! she never attempted to move after I threw the shawl around her, till I told her all danger was over." " Very grand, all that sort of thing," returaed Freddy ; " but for my own part I should like to see a little more feeling. I've no taste for youi- ' marble maidens ' ; they always put me in mind of Lot's wife." " Eh ! Mrs. Lot ? " intenixpted Lawless, coming up to us : " why was she like me ? do you give it up ? Because she got into a pretty pickle — there's a riddle for you. I say, I made a nice mess of it just now, didn't I ? that's what comes of going to these confounded balls. The fact was," he continued, sinking his voice, " the filly bolted with me; she took imcommon kindly to the champagne at supper; in consequence, she was so fresh when we stai-ted that I couldn't hold her ; she kept pushing on faster and faster, till at last she was fairly oft' with me ; we did very well as long as we stuck to the open counti-y, but at last we contrived to get among some vei-y awkward fences ; the first stiff bit of timber we came to she made a rush at, and down we came, gate— I mean table, candlestick, and aU, a regular smash ; and to make matters worse, one of the candles set the other yoimg woman's petticoat alight." " In fact, after a very severe run, you were nearly being in at the death," suggested Coleman. " By Jove, it was nothing to laugh at, though ! " remarked Lawless ; "she'd have been regularly cooked, if Frank Fairlegh hadn't put her out when he did. and I should have been tried for ' Unjustifiable Girl-icide,' or * Maliciously setting fire to a man-iageable female,' or some such thing ; and I dare say the young woman wasn't insured anywhere : I should have got into a pretty mess ; it would have been a worse job than breaking Shrimp." " Frederick, look here ! " cried Lucy Markham. who was passing the place where we stood ; "see how Mr. Fairlegh's sleeve is scorched ; siu-ely," she continued, turning to me, " your arm must be injured." " It begins to feel rather jminful," replied I ; " but I dai'esay it's nothing to signify." " Come to my room,"' exclaimed Freddy, anxiously ; " why did you not mention it before ? " "Really I scai-cely felt it in the excitement of the moment," returned I ; "it can't be of any consequence." 108 FRANK FAIRLEGH On removing the coat-sleeve, however, a somewhat considerable bum was apparent, extending about half-way from the wrist to the elbow, and which, the moment it was exposed to the air, became excessively painful. Fortunately, among the guests who had not yet taken their departure was the surgeon of the neighbourhood, who was speedily summoned, and who, after having applied the proper remedies, recom- mended me to caiiy my arm in a sling for a few days, at the end of which time, he assured me, it would cause me little inconvenience. As it was, by great good luck, my left arm which was injured, 1 submitted to this mandate with tolerable resignation, and returned to the drawing-room to be pitied by the tongues of the old, and the bright eyes of the yoimg ladies, to an extent which (as at that time of day I was somewhat addicted to the vice of shyness) was more flattering than agi-eeable. It was between two and three o'clock when Lawless and I prepared to take our departm-e for the inn at which we were to sleep. Being a lovely night, Coleman volunteered to accompany us for the sake of the walk, teUing the sen-ants not to sit up for him, as he had a latch- key in his pocket— an article regarding the possession of which a constant civil war was carried on between his mother and himself, wherein by dint of sundi-y well-contrived stratagems and deeply-laid schemes, he invariably gained the victoiT. " I tell you what," said Lawless, " the row and bother, and the whole kick-up altogether, has made me alarmingly hungry ; the only decent bit of chicken I managed to lay hands on at supper Di Clappei-ton ate: precious twist that girl has, to be sure; even after all the ground she's been over to-night, going a topping pace the whole time too, she wasn't a bit off her feed ; didn't she walk into the ham sand- wiches—that's all ! I'd rather keep her for a week than a fortnight., I can tell yon ; she'd eat her head off in a month, and no mistake. Here, waiter," he continued, "have you got anything to eat in the house ? " "Yes, sir, splendid barrel of oysters down by coach last night; capital brown stout, sir — real Guinness' s ! " " That's it, my man," was the rejoinder ; " trot 'em out by all means. Freddy, old boy," he continued, " come along in with us, and have some." " Well. I don't mind astonishing the natives for once in a way," replied Freddy ; " but it's dreadfvilly debauched, eating oysters and drinking porter at this time ot day or night, whichever you are pleased to call it ; you'll ruin my morals." " The devil fly away with your morals, and he won't be over-loaded either," was the jiolite rejoinder ; and in we all went together. The oysters and poi-ter soon made their appearance, and had ample justice done them ; then, as a matter of course, spirits and water and cigars were produced, " just to prevent the oysters from disagreeing with us ; " and we sat talking over old times, and relating various adven- FRANK FAIRLEGH 109 tures -whicli had occurred to us since, without troubling oui- heads about the flight of minutes. At length Coleman, pulling out his watch, exclaimed : " Past four o'clock, by the powers ! I must be getting to bed — I've got a lease to di-aw to-mon'ow, and my head won't be over-clear as it is." " Nonsense," replied Lawless ; " bed's all a popular delusion ; we can't be better off than we are— sit stUl." But on Coleman's persist- ing in his wish to depart. Lawless continued : " Well, take another glass, and then Frank and I will walk home with you and see you safe, for it's my belief that you're getting ' screwed,' or youd never think of going to bed." Freddy and I exchanged glances, for if any of our party were in the condition expressed by the mysterious word " screwed," it certainly was Lawless himself. After sitting some little time longer, we once moi-e sallied forth with the avowed inten- tion of seeing Coleman home. CHAPTER XV. HINGING THE CURFEW, " If the bell have any sides the clapper will find 'em." — Ben Jomon. " ringing changes all our bells hath marr'd, Jangled they have and jarr'd So long, they're out of tune, and out of frame ; They seem not now the saaie. Put them in frame anew, and once begin To tune them so, that they may chime all in." Herbert. " Great then are the mysteries of beU-ringing ; and this may be said in its praise, that of all devices which men have sought out for obtaining distinction bj' making a noise in the world, it is the most harmless." — The Doctor. As we proceeded through the town. Lawless, despite oiu* endeavom-s to restrain him, chose to vent his superabundant spirits by perform- ing sundry feats at the expense of the public, which, had the police regulations of the place been properly attended to, would have assuredly gained us a sojoum in the watch-house. We had just prevailed upon him to move on, after singing " We won't go home till morning " under the windows of " the Misses Properpnm's Seminai'y for roung Ladies," when a little shi-ivelled old man, in a sort of watchman's gi'eat-3oat, bearing a horn lantern in his hand, brushed past us, and preceded as down the sti'eet at a shuffling trot. " Hulloa ! " cried Lawless, " who's that old picture of ugliness ? Look what a pace the beggar's cutting along at ! what on earth's he up to ? " " That's the sexton and bell-ringer," returned Coleman ; " they 110 FRANK FAIRLEGH keep up the old custom at Hillin^ord of ringing the curfew at day- break, and he's going about it now, I suppose." " What jolly fun ! " said Lawless ; " come on, and let's see how the old cock does it ; " and suiting the action to the word, ofE he started in pursuit. " We'd better follow him," said I ; " he'll be getting into some mischief or other, depend upon it." After running a short distance down the street, on turaing a comer, we found Lawless standing under a small arched doorway leading into a cui-ious old battlemented tower which did not form part of any church or other building of the same date as itself, but stood alone, showing, as it reared its time-worn head high abo%'e the more modera dwellings of which the street was composed, like some giant relic of the days of old. This tower contained a peal of bells, the fame of which was gi-eat in that part of the country, and of which the towns- people were justly pro^^d. " All right ! " cried Lawless ; " the old scarecrow ran in here like a lamp-lighter, as soon as he saw me bowling after him, and has left the key in the lock ; so I shall take the liberty of exploring a little ; I've a strong though imdeveloped taste for architectui-al antiquities. Twopence more, and up goes the donkey ! come along ! " So saying he flung open the door, and disappeared up some steps leading to the interior of the tower, and after a moment's hesi- tation Coleman and I followed him. " Don't be alarmed, old boy ! " obsei-ved Lawless, patting the sexton (who looked frightened out of his wits at our inti-usion) so forcibly on the back as to set him coughing violently ; " we're not come to mm-der you for the sake of yom- lantern." " This gentleman," said Coleman, who, by the cunning twinkle of his eye, was evidently becoming possessed by the spirit of mischief, " has been sent down by the Venerable Society of Antiquaries, to ascertain whether the old custom of ringing the curfew is properly performed here. He is, in fact, no other than the Noble President of the Society himself. That gentleman " (pointing to me) " is the Vice-President, and I, who have the honour of addressing you, am the unworthy Secretary." " That's it, daddy," resumed Lawless, coolly taking up the lantern and lighting a cigar; "that's the precise state of the poll, I mean case ; so now go to work, and mind you do the trick properly." Thus adjured, the old man, who appeared completely bewildered by all that was going on, mechanically took hold of a rope, and began slowly and at stated intervals tolling one of the bells. " Where are your assistants, my good man ? " inquired Coleman, after a short pause. The only answer was a stare of vacant surprise, and Coleman continued, " Why, you don't mean to say you only ring one bell, to be sure ? oh, this is all wrong :— what do you say, Mr. President ? " " Wi-ong ? " replied Lawless, removing the cigar from his mouth FRANK FAIRLEGH 111 and pufl&ng a cloud of smoke into the sexton's face, " I should just think it was most particularly and confoundedly wrong. I'll tell you what it is, old death's-head and cross-bones : things can't be allowed to go on in this manner. Refoma, su*. is wanting, ' the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill.' I mean to get into Parlia- ment some day, Fairlegh, when I am tix-ed of knocking about, you know — but that wasn't exactly what I was going to say." " Suppose we show him the proper way to do it, Mi*. President ! "' suggested Fi-eddy, catching hold of the rope of one of the bells. " Off she goes," cried Lawless, seizing another. " Gentlemen, good gentlemen, don't ring the bells, pray," implored the old man, " you'll raise the whole town : they are never rung in that way without there's a fire, or a flood, or the riot act read, or some- thing of that dreadful nature the matter." But his expostulations were vain. Lawless had already begun ringing his bell in a manner which threatened to stun us all ; and Coleman, saying to me, " Come, Frank, we're i-egularly in for it, so you may as well take a rope and do the thing handsomely while we- are aboiit it ; it would be homdly shabby of you to desert us now," I hastened to follow his example. Now it must be known that when I aiTived at the inn, before supper, owing i^robably to a combination of the fatigue of the day, the excitement of the evening, and the pain of my arm, I felt somewhat faint and exhausted, and should have greatly pi-efen-ed going at once quietly to bed ; but, as I was aware that by so doing I should break up the party, I resolved to keep up as well as I could, and say nothing about it. Finding myself refreshed by the bottled porter, I repeated the dose several times, and the remedy continuing to prove efficacioiis, without giving the thing a thought, I di'ank more deeply than was my wont, and was a good deal suiT^rised, when I rose to accompany the others, to discover that my legs were slightly iinsteady, and my head not so clear as usual. Still I had been far from approving the proceedings of my companions, and had any one told me, when I entered the tower, that I was going to ring all the good people of Hillingford out of their beds in a fright, I should indignantly have repelled the accusation. Now, however, owing to the way in which Coleman had requested my assistance, it appeared to my be-w^ildered senses that I should be meanly deserting my friends, the moment they had got into difficulties, if I were to refuse ; but when he used the word " shabby," it settled the business, and seizing a rope with my uninjm-ed hand, I began pulling away vigorously. " Now, then, you wi-etched old beggar," shouted Lawless, " don't stand there winking and blinking like an owl ; pull away like bricks, or I'll break your neck for you ; go to work, I say ! " and the miserable sexton, with a mute gesture of despau*, resuming his occupation, a peal of four bells was soon ringing bravely out over hill and dale, and making '" night hon-ible " to the stai-tled inhabitants of HUling- ford. 112 FRANK FAIRLEGH After the lapse of a few minutes a distant slioiit was heard ; then a confused noise of people running and calling to each other in the streets reached our ears; and lastly the sound of several persons rapidly approaching the bell-tower became audible. " We're in for a scrimmage now, I expect," said Lawless, leisui-ely turning up his sleeves. " Not a bit of it," replied Freddy ; " only leave it to me, and you'll see. All you fellows have got to do is to hold your tongi^es, and keep on ringing away till youi* arms ache ; trust me to manage the thing all right. Lawless, keep your eye on ancient Methuselah there, and if he offers to say a word, just knock him head over heels by accident, will you ? " " Ay, ay, sir," replied Lawless, shaking his fist significantly at the eexton. At this moment a short, fat man with a veiy red face (who we aftei-wards learned was no less a person than the mayor of Hilling- ford in his public, and a mighty tallow-chandler in his private, capacity) appeared, attired in a night-cap and great-coat, and bearing the rest of his wardrobe under his arm, followed by several of the townspeople, all in a similar state of undi*ess, and with the liveliest alarm depicted on their countenances. The worthy mayor was so much out of breath by his unwonted exeriions that some seconds elapsed before he could utter a word, and in the meantime we con- tinued ringing as though our lives depended upon it. At length he contrived to gasp out a hun-ied inquiry (hardly audible amidst the clanging of the bells) as to what was the matter. To this Coleman replied by pointing with one hand to a kind of loophole, of which there were several for the purpose of supplying light and air to the interior of the tower, while with the other hand he continued ringing away more lustily than before. " Bless my soul ! " exclaimed the mayor, raising himself on tip-toe, and stretching his short neck in a vain endeavour to peep through the loophole, " it must be a fire in West Street ! " Two or three of the bystanders immediately inished into the street, calling out, " A fire in West Street ! send for the engines." At this moment Freddy caught the eye of a tall, gaunt-looking man in a top-boot and plush breeches, but without coat or waistcoat, and wearing a gold-laced cocked hat on his head, hind part before, from beneath which peeped out a white cotton night-cap. Having succeeded in attracting the attention of this worthy, who in his proper person supported the dignity of parish beadle, Coleman repeated the same stratagem he had so successfidly practised upon the mayor, save that in this instance he pointed to a loophole in a completely opposite direction to the one he had indicated previously. The beadle immediately ran out, muttering ere he did so, " I was certain sure as they was all wi'ong." In another minute we heard him shouting, "It's in Middle Street, I tell you, there's a fire in Middle Street ! " ^-y. FRANK FAIRLEGH 113 Coleman now turned to the mayor, who, having somewhat recovered his breath, was evidently preparing to question the sexton as to the particulars of the affair, and exclaimed in a tone of deep feeling, "I am sui-prised to see a person of your high station standing idle at a moment like this ! take a rope, sir, and lend a hand to assist US, if you be a man." " To be sm-e, to be sure," was the reply, " anything for the good of he town," and, grasping an unoccupied rope, he began t)iilling away with all his might. The hubbub and confusion now became something unparalleled — people without number kept rimning in and out of the tower, giving and receiving all kinds of contradictory orders ; volunteers had been foimd to assist us, and the whole peal of eight bells was clashing and clanging away above the tumult, and spreading the alai-m fai-ther and wider ; men on horseback were amving from the country, eager to render assistance ; women were screaming, dogs barking, children crying ; and, to crown the whole, a violent and angi-y debate was being carried on by the more influential members of the crowd as to the quarter in which the supposed conflagi-ation was raging — one party loudly declai-ing it was in Middle Street, while the other as vehemently protested it was in West Street. The confusion had apparently attained its highest pitch, and the noise was perfectly deafening, when suddenly a shout was raised, "The engines! clear the way for the engines!" and in another moment the scampering of the crowd in all directions, the soimd of horses' feet galloping, and the rattle of wheels, announced their approach. While all this was going on, Coleman had contrived silently and unperceived to substitute two of the bystanders in my place and his own, so that Lawless was the only one of oui* party actually engaged in ringing. Seizing the moment, therefore, when the shout of " The engines ! " had attracted the attention of the loitei'ers, he touched him on the shoulder, saying, " Now's om- time, come along," and joining a party who were going out, we reached the door of the bell-tower unobserved. The scene which presented itself to oiu* view as we gained the open street would require the pencil of a Wilkie, or the pen of a Dickens, to describe. The street widened in fi-ont of the bell-tower, so as to make a kiad of square. In the centre of the space thus formed stood the fire-engine di-awn by four post-horses, the post-boys sitting erect in their saddles, ready to dash forwai'd the moment the firemen (who in their gi'een coats faced with red, and shining leather helmets, impai-ted a somewhat military character to the scene) should succeed in ascei-taining the place at which their assistance was required. The crowd, which had opened to admit the passage of the engine, immediately closed round it again in an apparently impenetrable phalanx, the individual members of which afforded as singular a variety of costume as can well be imagined, extending from the simple shirt of propriety to the decorated uniforms of the fire 114 PRANK PAIRLEGH brigade. As everyone who had an opinion to give was bawling it out at the very top of his voice, whilst those who had none contented themselves by shouting vague sentences devoid of particular meaning of any kind, the noise and tumult were such as beggared description. There was one short, stout, red-faced little fellow (for I succeeded in catching sight of liim at last) with a mouth of such fearful dimensions that when it was open the upper half of his head appeared a mere lid, whose intellects being partially under the dominion of sleep, evidently imagined himself at the Election, which had taken place a shoi-t time previously, and continued strenuously vociferating the name of his favourite candidate, though the cry of " Judkins for ever ! " did not tend greatly to elucidate matters. Suddenly, and at the very height of the confusion, the bells ceased ringing, and for a moment, as if influenced by some supematui-al power, the crowd to a man became silent. The transition from the Babel of sounds I have been describing to such perfect tranquillity was most striking, and impressed one with an involuntary feeling of awe. I was aroused by Coleman, who whispered in an undertone, " The sexton has peached, depend upon it. and the sooner we're off the better." " Tes, and 111 go in style too ; so good-bye, and take care of your- selves," exclaimed Lawless, and, springing forward, before anyone was aware of his intention, he foi'ced his way through the crowd, overturning sundry members thereof in his progress, until he reached the fire-engine, upon which he seated himself with a bound, shouting as he did so — " Foi-ward, forward ! do you want the place to be burnt to the ground ? I'll show you the way ; give 'em the spur; faster, faster, straight on till I tell you to turn — faster, I say ! " The appearance of authority, coupled with energy and decision, will usually control a crowd. The firemen, completely taken in by Lawless's manner, reiterated his orders ; the post-boys applied both whip and spur \dgorously — the horses dashed forward, and, amidst the enthusiastic cheering of the mob, the engine disappeared like a flash of lightning. " Well, I give the Honourable George credit for that ! " exclaimed Coleman, as soon as we had a little recovered from our surprise at Lawless's elopement with the fire-engine ; " it was a good idea, and he worked it out most artistically ; the air with which he waved his hat to cheer them foi'ward was quite melodi'amatic. I've seen the thing not half so well done by several of the gi-eatest generals who ever lived — gallant commanders, whom their men would have followed through any amount of the reddest possible fire during the whole of Astley's campaigns, that is, if the commissariat department (consist- ing of the pot-boy stationed at the side-scenes with the porter) did its duty efficiently." " Freddy, they're Ijeginning to come out of the bell-tower," inter- rupted I ; "we shall be called upon to answer for oiu- misdeeds if we '"^^^^ '\ rjl FRANK FAIRLEGH 115 stay much longer : see, that long man in the cocked hat is coming towards us." " So he is," returned Coleman ; " it strikes me they've found us out ; follow me, and try and look as if it wasn't you as much as possible, will you ? " So saying, he began to make his way out of the crowd unperceived, an example I hastened to follow ; but we were not destined to effect our purpose quite so easily. The point Coleman wished to gain was an arched gateway leading into a stable-yard, from which he hoped, by a footpath with which he was acquainted, across some fields, to reach without molestation the inn where I was to sleep. But, in order to effect this, we were obliged to pass the door of the bell-tower, from which several people, who appeai-ed angry and excited, were now issuing. The foremost of these, the cocked-hatted official before mentioned, made his way up to us, exclaiming as he did so, — " Here, you young gen'lmen. just you stop a bit, will yer ? His wusshup the mayor seems to begin to think as somebody's been a-making a fool of him." " A very natural idea," returned Coleman ; " I only wonder it never occurred to him before ; as far as my limited acquaintance with him wiU allow me to judge, the endeavoiir appears to have been perfectly successful. I wish you a very good-morning." " That's all wery fine, but I must trouble yer to come along o' me ; his wusshup wants to speak to yer," replied the beadle, seizing Cole- man by the coat collar. " That is a pleasure his ' wusshup ' must contrive to postpone till he has caught me," answered Freddy, as with a sudden jerk he succeeded in freeing himself from his captor's grasp, while almost at the same moment he dealt him a cuff on the side of the head, which sent him reeling back to the door of the bell-tower, where, encounter- ing the mayor, who had just made his appearance, he came headlong to the ground, dragging that illustrious functionary down with him in a frantic endeavour to save himself. Profiting by the confusion that ensued, Freddy and I sprang forward, darted through the arch- way, and, making the best use of our legs, soon found ourselves in the open fields, and quite beyond the reach of pui-suit. 116 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XVI. THE ROMAN FATHER. " If a dream should come in now to make you afear'd, With a windmill on hiB head and bells at his beard ; , Would you straight wear your spectacles here at your toes, And your boots on your brows, and your spurs on your nose ? Ben Jonson. " No he With more than Roman fortitude is ever First at the board in this unhappy process. Against his last and only son." The Two Fosean. Dreams, ye strange mysterious visions of the soul ! Ye wild and freakish gamhoUings of the spirit, freed from the incubus of matter, and unfettered by the control of reason, of what fantastic caprices are ye the originators— what caricatures of the various features of our waking life do ye not exhibit to us, ludicrous and distorted indeed, but still preserving thi-ough their most extravagant ex- aggerations a wayward and grotesque likeness to the realities they shadow forth ! And stranger even than your most strange vagaries, is the cool, matter-of-fact way in which our sleeping senses calmly accept and acquiesce in the medley of impossible absurdities you offer to their notice. We conceive ourselves, for instance, proceeding along a green lane on horseback ; the animal upon which we are mounted becomes suddenly, we know and care not how, a copper tea-kettle, and we ride quietly on without testifying, or even feeling, the least symptom of surprise, as though the identity of hackneys and tea-kettles was a fact generally recognized in natural history ; the kettle perhaps addresses us, it converses with us on all the subjects which interest us most deeply ; and we discuss oui- various hopes and fears, joys and son-ows, loves and hates, with no other sentiment, save a degree of pleasure at the very sensible and enlightened views which the utensil takes of the matter. I might mxiltiply examples, ' ad infinitum,' to illustrate my meaning ; but to those who are familiar with the phenomena alluded to, one instance will suffice ; while those who have never experienced them will pro- bably, at all events, take refuge in disbelief, and lament them- selves with a self-satisfying sorrow over the fresh proof it adduces of the truth of the Israelitish monarch's aphorism, that " all men are liars." Be this as it may, my sleep (when, at length, after the excitement I had undergone, sleep condescended to visit me, which was not vmtil, contrary to all the rules of good breeding, Somnus had allowed me to call upon him repeatedly in vain) was distm'bed by all sorts and kinds of visions. Lawlesses innumerable, attended by shoals of top-booted FRANK FAIRLEGH 117 shrimps— the visionary shrimp being a sort of compromise between the boy so-called and the real article— drove impossible dog-carts drawn by quadrupeds whose heads and necks bore a striking resemblance to the waltz-loving Diana Clapperton, up and down ball-rooms, to the unspeakable teiTor of squadrons of turbaned old ladies. Deafening peals of beUs, rung by troops of Freddy ColeMEN (which I take to be the correct plirral of Coleman), were rousing nightcapped nations from their slumbers in alarm, to whom flocks of frightened mayors were bleating forth bewildered orders, which resulted in pei-plexing everybody ; and through it all, mixed up and combined with every- thing, the pale, interesting face of Clara:Saville, characterized by an expression of the deepest sadness, gazed at me out of its large trustful eyes, and rendered me intensely miserable. From dreams such as these I was not sorry to be aroused by the sun shining brightly through my window-shutter ; and on consulting my watch, I found, somewhat to my sui-prise, that I had slept till nearly mid-day. On reaching the breakfast-room my first inquiry was for Lawless, in reply to which I was informed that he had returned (on the fire- engine) about half an hour after I came in ; that immediately upon his an-ival he had called for unlimited supplies of rum, lemons, and other suitable ingi-edients, wherewith he manufactured a monster brewing of punch in a washing-tiib for the benefit of the firemen, Avith whom he had contrived to establish the most amicable relations ; he then assisted in discussing the beverage he had prepared, which appeared to produce no particular effects, until, wishing to rise to return thanks when they drank his health, he suddenly lost his balance, and being earned to bed by the waiter and boots, had not yet reappeared. Not liking to disturb him, I breakfasted alone, and then stroUed out to look after Fi-eddy. I foimd him sitting in the study, busily engaged in drawing the lease he had mentioned to us the night before. On seeing me, however, he sprang up, and shaking me by the hand, inquired how I was after om- adventures. " That's all right, so far," was his reply to my assurance that my injiu-ed arm was going on favourably, and that I felt no other ill effects of 'any kind. " I tell you what," he continued, " my governor's in no end of a rage about the bell-ringing affair ; that old fool of a mayor recognized me, it seems, and vows vengeance, thi-eatenmg to do all sorts of things to me, and the governor swears he'll aid and abet him in anything he chooses to do. They had better take care what they are at, or they may find I'm not to be bullied with impunity ; but come along into the drawing-room ; I don't mind facing the elders now I've got you to support me ; and really, what between my father's accusations and my mother's excuses, it's as good as a play. "You're abominably undutiful. Master Fred," replied I, as i turned to follow him. On reaching the drawing-room we found Mr. Coleman standing with his arms folded with an air of dignified severity, so exactly in the centre of the hearth-nig, that he seemed to belong to the pattern. 118 FRANK FAIRLEGH Seated in a low arm-cliair on the right-liand side of the fireplace was Mrs. Coleman, apparently absorbed in the manufactui-e of some mys- terious article of knitting, which constantly required propitiating by the repetition of a short arithmetical puzzle, without which it would by no means allow itself to be created. At her feet, engaged in the Sisy- phian labour of remedying the effects of " a great fall " in worsteds, scissors, and other " articles for the work-table," knelt Lucy Markham, looking so piquante and pretty, that I could not help wondering how my friend Freddy contrived to keep himself heai-t-whole, if, as I imagined, he was thrown constantly into her society. The party was completed by a large, sleek, scrupulously white cat, clearly a privileged individual, who sat bolt upright in the chair, opposite Mrs. Coleman, regarding thecompany withanairof intense self-satisfaction, evidently considering the whole thing got up for her express delec- tation. Mr. Coleman received me with pompous civility, hoping I felt no ill effects from my exertions in the earlier part of the evening — taking care to lay a marked emphasis on the word " earlier." Lucy acknowledged my presence by a smile and a slight inclination of the head, but without altering her position. Worthy Mrs. Coleman, how- ever, jumped up and shook hands warmly with me, thereby providing Lucy with full employment for the next ten minutes inlpicking up the whole machinery of the knitting. " Very glad indeed to see you, Mr. Lawless," commenced Mrs, Coleman. "It's Faii'legh, mother," interposed Freddy. " Yes, my dear, yes, I knew it was Mr. Fairlegh, only I'm always making a mistake about names ; but I never forget a face I've once seen; and I'm sure I'm not likely to forget Mr. Fairlegh's after the noble way in which he behaved last night " (here Mr. Coleman turned away with a kind of ironical growl, and began caressing- the oat). " I declare when I saw him setting Clara Saville's di-ess on fire, so nicely made as it was too — " " My dear aunt," remonstrated Lucy, " it was Mr. Lawless who threw down the candelabrum, and set Clara's frock alight." " Yes, my love, I know — I saw it all, my dear ; and very kind it was of him, I mean afterwards, in speaking to me of it ; he said he was so vei-y son-y about it— and he called it something funny, poor young man — ' no end of a something or other ' — " " Sell," suggested Freddy. " Oh yes, that was it, no end of a sell. What did he mean by that, my dear?" " I strongly disapprove," obsei-ved Mr. Coleman (who still con- tinued stroking the cat as he spoke, which process he performed by passing his hand deliberately from her head, along her back, to the very tip of her tail, which he retained each time in his grasp for a moment, ere he recommenced operations), " I highly disapprove of the absurd practice, so common with young men of the present day, of expressing their ideas in that low and incomprehensible dialect. FRANK FAIRLEGH 119 i«nned ' slang,' which, in my opinion, has neither wit nor refinement to redeem its vulgarity, and which effectually prevents their acquir- ing that easy yet dignified mode of expression, which should charac- terize the conversation of the true gentleman. In my younger days ^ve took Burke for our model ; the eloquence of Pitt and Fox gave the tone to society ; and during our hours of relaxation, we emulated the polished wit of Sheridan : but it is a symptom of that fearful levelling system which is one of the most alarming features of the present age ; instead of striving to raise and exalt — " " Really, my dear Mr. Coleman, I beg youi- pardon for internipting you," cried his wife, '" but this is the second time you've lifted my poor little cat off her hind-legs by her tail ; and though she's as good as gold, and let's you do just what you like to her, it can't be pleasant for her, I'm sure." The only reply to tliis, if reply it can be called, was an angry " Psha ! " and, turning on his heel, Mr. Coleman sti-ode with great dignity towards the window, though the effect was considerably man-ed by his stumbling against an ottoman which stood in the way, and hxirting his shin to an extent which entailed i-ubbing, albeit a sublunary and un-Spartan operation, as a necessary consequence. A pause ensued, which at length became so awkward, that I was about to hazard some wretched commonplace or other, for the sake of breaking the silence, when Mrs. Coleman addressed me with,— " You'll take some luncheon, Mr. Lawless, I'm sure. Freddy, ring the bell ! " "He'Ube ready enough to do that," gi-owled Mr. Coleman; "you coiild not have asked a fitter person."' "Of coiu-se he will, a dear fellow," replied Mrs. Coleman; "he's always ready to oblige anybody." "I disapprove greatly of such extreme facility of disposition," observed Mr. Coleman ; " it lays a young man open to every tempta- tion that comes in his way ; and for want of a proper degree of finn- ness and self-respect, he gets led into all kinds of follies and excesses." " Now, my dear Mr. Coleman," returned his wife, " I cannot bear to hear you talk in that way ; you are too hard upon poor Freddy and his young friends ; I'm certain they meant no harm ;— if they did ring the bells by way of a joke, I daresay they had di-unk rather more champagne than was prudent, and scarcely knew what they were about ; and really all they seem to have done was to make people get up a little sooner than usual, and that is rather a good thing than otherwise, for I'm sm-e, if you did but know the trouble I have some- times in getting the maids out of bed in the morning— and that lazy fine gentleman of a footman too, he's just as bad.— Why, what's the matter now P " " I really am astonished at you, Mrs. Coleman," exclaimed her husband, walking hurriedly across the room— although this time he took good care to avoid the ottoman, " encouraging that boy of yours 120 FRANK FAIRLEGH in sucli scandalous and imgentlemanly proceediuEfs as those lie was-, engaged in last night ! No liarm, indeed ! I only hope (that is, I don't hope it at all, for he deserves to be punished, and I wish he may) that the laws of his country may think there's no harm in it. Mr. DuUmug. the mayor, intends, very properly in my opinion, to appeal to those laws ; that is a thing, I am proud to say, no Englishman ever does in vain. You may smile, sir," he continued, detecting Freddy in the act of telegraphing to me his dissent from the last doctrine propounded. " You may ridicule your old father's opinion, but you'll find it no laughing matter to clear yourself, and justify your conduct, in a court of justice. They may bring it in conspiracy, for I daresay you plotted it all beforehand ; they may Ijring it in riot and illegal assembly, for there were three of you engaged in it ; they may bring it in treason, for you incited His Majesty's subjects to com- mit a breach of the peace, and interfered with the proper officers in the dischai-ge of their duty : 'pon my word, I don't know that they may not bring it in murder, for the i^oor child that had the measles in the town died between six and seven o'clock this morning, and no doubt the confusion had something to do with accelerating its death. So, sir, if you're not hanged, you're certain to be transpoi*ted ; and don't ask me to assist you ; I've lived by supporting the law for fifty years, and I'm not going in my old age to lend my countenance to those who break it, and set it at naught, though my own son be one of them. I have spoken my mind plainly, Mr. Fairlegh, more so perhaps than I should have done before a guest in my own house, but it is a matter upon which I feel deeply. I wish you good-moming, sir." So saying, he turned away, and stalked majestically out of the room, closely followed, not to say imitated, by the cat, who held her tai erect, so as to form a right angle with the line of her back, and' walked with a hypocritical air of meek dignity and chastened self- approval. " That's what I call pleasant and satisfactory," exclaimed Freddy, after a pause, during which each member of the party exchanged glances of consternation with somebody else. " Who would ever have imagined the possibility of the governor's turning cantankerous — assuming the character of the Roman father upon the shortest possible notice, and thirsting to sacrifice his son on the altar of the outraged laws of his country ! What an interesting victim I shall make, to be sui*e ! Lucy must lend me that wreath of roses she looked so pretty in last night., to wear at the fatal ceremony. And my dear mother shall stand near, tearing out those revered locks of hers by handfuls." (The reader should perhaps be informed that Mrs. Coleman rejoiced in a false front of so open and ingenuous a natm-e, that from its youth upwards, it never could have been guilty of deceiving anyone.) " May I ring and tell John to have all the carving knives sharipened ? it would be more satisfactory to my feelings not to be slaughtered with a blimt weapon." FRANK FAIRLEGH 121 " Don't talk in that way, Frederick," cried Mrs. Coleman. " I'm sure your father would never think of doing such dreadful things ; but I believe you're only making fun of him, which isn't at all right of you. I'm not a bit sui-prised at his being angry with you, when you know how steady he always says he was as a young man (not that I ever quite believe it, though) ; he never went ringing bells, however late he might stay out at night, that I heard of (though I should never have known it if he had. very likely). I don't myself see any great harm in it, you know, Mr. Fairless, particularly after your saving poor Clai-a Saville. and Freddy from drowning, when you were all boys together— indeed, I shall always have the highest opinion of you for it, only I wish you had never done it at all, either of you, because of making your father so angry— you I mean, Frederick." " Have you received any account of Miss Saville this morning ? " in- quired I, anxious to change the convei-sation ; for I could see that Freddy, despite his assumed indifference, was a good deal annoyed at the serious light in which the old gentleman seemed to look upon our escapade. " I should be glad to know that she was none the worse for all the alaiin she must have suffered." " No, we have not heard anything of her," replied Lucy. " Should we not send to inquire after her, aunt ? " " Certainly, my dear Lucy; I 'am glad you have reminded me; I always meant to send, only all this has put it out of my head." "Now, Frank, there's a splendid chance for you," exclaimed Freddy ; " nothing can be more correct than for you to call and make the proper inquiries in person ; and then if old StifEback should happen not to be at home, and you can contrive to get let in, and the young lady be not actually a stone—" " Indeed, Frederick, she is nothing of the kind," inten-upted Lucy wai-mly ; " if you only knew her, you would be astonished to find what deep, warm feelings are concealed beneath that calm manner of hers ; but she has wondei-ful self-control. I could see last night how much she was grieved at being obliged to go away without having thanked Mr. Fairlegh for saving her." " Give her a chance to repair the error to-day, by all means, then," said Freddy ; " and if you should succeed in gaining an intei-view, and she really is anxious to do a little bit of the grateful, and old Vemor does not kick you downstairs, I shall begin to regret that I didn't extinguish her myself." "I really haA-e a great mind to follow your advice," returned I; " it is only proper to inquire after the young lady, and they need not let me in unless they like." " If you should see her, Mr. Lawlegh," said Mrs. Coleman, " tell her from me, how very much vexed I was about the candelabrum being thrown down and setting fire to her di-ess ; it was made of the very best Dresden china, and must have cost (only it was a present, which made it all the more valuable, you know) fifteen or sixteen 122 FRANK FAIRLEGH ^ineas ; and, I'm sui-e I wonder, now I come to think of it, why it did not flare up and bum her to death ; but you were so quick and clever, and entirely spoilt that beautiful whittle of old Mrs. Trottles, with the greatest presence of mind ; and I'm sure we ought all to be thankful to you for it ; and we shall be delighted to see her when she has quite recovered it, tell her, pai-ticularly Lucy, who is nearest her own age, you know." " Let me see," said Fi-eddy, musing ; " Mrs. Trottles must be seventy -two if she is a day ; 'pon my word. Lucy, you're the youngest- looking woman of your age I ever met with ; if I had not heard my mother say it myself, I'd never have believed it." " Believed what, Freddy ? What have I said P " asked Mrs. Coleman. " That L\acy was Mrs. Trottles' most intimate friend, because she was nearest her own age," returned Freddy. "No such thing, sir; I said, or I meant to say — only you are so tiresome with your jokes, that you puzzle one — that Lucy being her own age, I mean Clara's, Mr. Fairless was to tell her how very glad she would be — and very natural it is for young people to like young people — to see her ; and I hope you'll remember to tell her ^11 1 have said exactly, Mr. Fairless, for I'm always anxious to try to please and amuse her, she's so very dull and stupid, poor thing !" To perform this utter impossibility I faithfully pledged myself; and taking a hasty farewell of the ladies, hurried out of the room to conceal a tit of laiighter, which had been gradually becoming iiTepressible. " Laiigh away, old boy," cried Freddy, who had accompanied me into the hall ; " no wonder I'm an odd feDow, for, as Pat would say, my mother was one before me, and no mistake. I wish you luck with the fair Clara, not that you'll see her — old Vemor will take care of that somehow or other ; even if he's not at home, he'll have locked her up safely before he went out, depend upon it." " You do not mean that in sober earnest P " said I. " Perhaps not actually in fact," replied Freddy, " but in effect I believe he does. Clara teUs Lucy she never sees anyone." " She shall see me to-day, if I can possibly contrive it," said I. " Oh for the good old days of chivalry, when knocking the guai'dian on the head, and iiinning away with the imprisoned damsel afterwards would have been accounted a very moral and gentlemanlike way of spending the morning ! " " Certainly they had a pleasant kna^jk of simplifying matters, those ' knights of old,' " replied Freddy ; " but it's not a line of business that would have suited me at all ; in balancing their accoiints the kicks always appear to have obtained a vei-y uncomfortable preponderance over the half -pence ; besides, the ' casus belli ' was a point on which their ideas were generally in a deplorable state of confusion : when one kills a man, it's as well to have some slight FRANK FAIRLEGH 123 notion why one does it ; and the case conies home to one still more closely, if it's somebody else who's going to kill yon." " You're about right there, Master Freddy," said I, smiling as I shook hands with him, and quitted the house. OHAPTER XYIl. THE INVISIBLE GIRL. " Aye, that's a dolt indeed, for he doth nothing hut talk of his horse."— Merchant of Venice. " Yond young fellow swears he wiU speak with you. What's to be said to him ? He's fortified against any denial."— Twelfth Night. " Be subject to no sight but mine ; invisible To every eyeball else." — Tempest. On arriving at the inn, to which I was forced to return to order my horse, I perceived Lawless's tandem waiting at the door, smTOunded by a crowd of admiring rustics, with Shrimp, his anns folded with an air of nonchalant defiance, which seemed to say, " Oh ! nm over me by aU means if you choose," stationed directly in front of the leader's head. On entering the parlour I found Lawless busily engaged in pulling on a pair of refractoi-y boots, and looking very hot and red in the face from the exertion. " How are you, Fairlegh ? how are you ? That stupid fool has made 'em too tight for anybody but Tom Thumb, and be hanged to him ! Ever read faii-y tales, Fairlegh ? I did when I was a little shaver, and wore cock-tailed petticoats— all bare legs and bustle — ' a High- land lad my love was bora ; ' that style of thing, rather, you know ; never believed 'em, though : wasn't to be done even then ; eh ? Well, this is a puzzler ; I can't get 'em on. Where's the fellow they call boots? Here, you sir, come and see if you can pull on these confounded namesakes of yours, and I'U tip you half-a-crown if you succeed ; cheaper than breaking one's back, eh ? " " Where are you off to, supposing you should ever get those boots on ? " asked I. " Eh ? I am going to call on the young woman I set alight at the hop last night, and tell her I'm quite down in the mouth about it ; explain that I didn't go to do it ; that it was quite a mistake, and all owing to the other young woman's being so fresh, in fact ; and then offer to i-ig her out again, start her in new harness from bridle to cnipper, all at my own expense, and that will be finishing off the affair handsomely, won't it ? " " I should advise your leaving out that last piece of munificence," replied I, *' she might think it an insult." 124 FRANK FAIRLEGH " An insult, eh ? Oh, if she's so proud as all that comes to, I'd better stay away altogether ; I shall be safe to put my foot into it there, a good deal faster than I have into these viUanous boots — that's it, Samson, another pull such as that and the deed's done," added Lawless, patting the human Boots on the back en- couragingly. " I was just going to ride over to inquire after Miss Saville myself," said I. " That's the very thing, then," was the reply. '' I'll drive you there instead; it will be better for your scorched fin" (pointing to my injured arm) " than jolting about outside a horse, and you shall tell me what to say as we go along ; you seem to understand the sex, as they call the petticoats, better than I do, and can put a fellow up to a few of the right dodges. I only wish they wei*e all horses, and then I flatter myself I should not require any man's advice how to harness, drive, train, or physic them." '■ The ladies are infinitely indebted to you," replied I, as I ran upstairs to prepare for our expedition. A drive of rather less than an hour and a half, during which the thorough-breds performed in a way to delight every lover of horse- flesh, brought us to the park gate of Barstone Priory, where Mr. Vemor resided. After winding in and out for some half-mile amongst gi-oups of magnificent forest trees, their tmnks partially concealed by plantations of rare and beautiful shiiibs, a sudden turn of the road brought us in front of the Prioi-y — an ancient, venerable- looking pile of building which had evidently, as its name implied, once belonged to some religious commimity. The alterations it had undergone, in order to adapt it to its i^resent fturpose, had been can-ied out with more taste and skill than are itsually met with in such cases. The garden, with its straight terrace-walks and brilliant flower-beds, contrasted well with the gray stone of which the building was composed, while the smooth-shaven lawn, with an old, quaintly- carved sun-dial in the centre, and above aU, the absence of any living creature whatsoever, imparted an air of severe formality to the scene, which, as the eye rested upon it, seemed to realize all one had read of monastic discipline and seclusion ; and one half expected to see a train of dark-veiled nuns or sandalled friars winding slowly forth from the hall-door. " What a singular old shop ! " exclaimed my co^ppanion, regarding the structure with a look of displeased criticism ; " wretched little windows as ever I saw ; they must l)e all in the dark inside on a dull day, and every day would be dull if one lived there, I should think. It would puzzle a fellow to tell whether that building was clerical or lay, fish or flesh ; a castle that had taken a serious turn, or a church out for the day in plain clothes ; how people can like to live in such a mouldy, rusty, musty old barn, that looks as fuU of ghosts as a cheese is of mites, I can't conceive." " There certainly is an appearance of gloom and loneliness about FRANK FAIRLEGH 125 the place," replied I ; " but I tliink it is chiefly owing to the absence of any living object— a herd of deer in the park, a group of children and dogs playing on the lawn— anything to give animation to the picture, would be the gi-eatest improvement." " I should just think it would," returned Lawless. " Fancy a pack of hounds under that jolly old oak yonder, the huntsman and whips in their bits of pink, and a field of about fifty of the right sort of fellows on thorough-breds, dawdling about, talking to one another, or taking a canter over the turf, just to settle themselves in the saddle ; that would be a sight to make old Venior look a little better pleased than he did last night, sing out for his boots and buckskins, and clap his leg over the first four-footed beast that came in his way, ■even if it should happen to be the old cow." " I hope I may be there to see if he does," replied I, laughing. On inquiring whether Mr. Vernor was at home, we were answered in the aflai-mative by a tall, gaunt-looking man-servant, with a stem, not to say surly, countenance, the expression of which was in some degree contradicted by a pair of quick, restless, little gray eyes, which in any other face one should have said twinkled merrily beneath the large grizzled eyebi-ows which o'ershadowed them. Having, at Lawless's request, procured a nondescript hobbledehoy of indefinite character to stand at the horses' heads (we had left Shi-imp behind, by common consent, that he might be no restraint on our conversation), he conducted us across the hall into a kind of moming-room, fitted up with oak panels, and with a very handsome old carved oak chimney-piece reaching half-way to the ceiling. He was leaving the room to inform his master of our an-ival, when Lawless stopped him by saying, — " Here, just wait a bit; tell the young woman— that is to say, don't tell her anything ; but I mean, let Miss Saville be made aware (I see you're awake, for all your long face), put her up to our being here ; don't you know, eh ? " " Tip him," whispered I. " Eh, stop a bit ; you're a very honest fellow, and it's right to reward faithful seiwants ; and— you understand all about it, eh ? " One portion of this somewhat incoherent address he did understand, evidently, for without altering a muscle of his face he put out his hand, took the money, and left the room with the same unconscious air of imperturbability which he had maintained throughout the whole conference. " Good move that, eh ? " exclaimed Lawless, as soon as the door was closed ; " that'll fetch her out of her hole, for a guinea. Mind, I shall do my best to cut you out. Master Frank. I don't see why I haven't a right to quite as large a share of her gratitude as you have, for if I hadn't set her on fire you'd never have put her out ; so, in fact, she owes it all to me — don't you see ? " " I'm afraid there's a little sophistry in that argument," replied I ; " but we had better wait till we find whether we shall have the 126 FRANK FAIRLEGH opportunity afEorded us of trymor our powers of fascination before we quarrel about tlie effects to be produced by tbem. I cannot say I feel over-san^iine as to the success of yom- somewhat original negotiation with that raw-boned giant in the blue plush ' sine qua nons,' as Coleman calls them." " Time will show," rejoined Lawless, turning towards the door, which opened at this moment to admit Mr. Vemor ; and, alas ! him only. His reception of us, though perfectly easy and well-l>red, was any- thing but agreeable or encouraging. He answered our inquiries after Miss Saville's health by informing us, cursorily, that no iU effects had ensued from her alarm of the previous evening. He received Lawless's apologies with a calm half-ironical smile, and an assurance that they were not required ; and he slightly thanked me for my obliging assistance in words perfectly unexceptionable in themselves, but which, from a peculiarity in the tone of voice more than anything else, impressed one with a sense of insult rather than of compliment. Still, in compliance with certain expressive looks from Lawless, who evidently was most unwilling to be convinced of the failure of his little bit of diplomacy, I used every means I could think of to prolong the visit. I first admired, then criticized, the carving of the chimney-piece ; I dived into a book of prints which lay upon the table, and prosed about mezzotint and line engraving, and bored myself, and of course my hearers also, till our powers of endvirance were taxed almost beyond their strength; and at last, having completely exhausted not only my small-talk, but my entire stock of conversation of all sorts and sizes, I was regularly beaten to a standstill, and obliged to take refuge in alternately teasing and caressing a l^eautiful black [and tan setter, which seemed the only member of the party thoroughly sociable and at his ease. At length it became apparent even to Lawless himself that the visit could not be protracted longer, and we accordingly rose and took our leave, oiu- host (I will not call him entertainer, for it would be a complete misnomer) preserving the same tone of cool and imper- turbable politeness to the very last. On reaching the hall we encoimtered the surly old footman, whose features looked more than ever as if they had been carved out of some very hard species of wood. " I say, old boy, where's the young lady, eh ? " exclaimed Lawless, as soon as he caught sight of him ; " she never showed so much as the tip of her nose in the room ; how was that, eh ? " " If she com'd into the room when gentlemen was calling, master would eat her without salt," was the reply. " Which fact you were perfectly aware of when you took my tip so quietly just now ? " " In coui'se I was ; why should I not be? " " Done brown for once, by Jove ! " muttered Lawless, as he left the hall ; " a raw-boned old rogue, I'll be even with him some day, though — we shall see, eh ? " FRANK FAIRLEGH 127 While Lawless was busily engaged in settling some of the harness which had become disarranged, the old footman came up to me and whispered, " Make use of your eyes as you drive through the park, and mayhap you'll spy some game worth looking after, young gentleman." Surprised at this unexpected addi*ess, I turned to question him as to its meaning ; but in vain ; for no sooner had he finished speaking^ than he re-entered the hall and shut the door behind him. What could he intend me to understand ? thought I ; he evidently wished to imply something beyond the simple meaning of the words " game worth looking after ; " could he mean to no ! the thing is impossible — " absurd ! " exclaimed I, as a wild idea shot through my brain and I felt myself colour like a girl, " What's absurd ? " exclaimed Lawless, gatheiing up the reins as. he spoke ; " what are you talking about ? why, you're ranting and staring about you like a play-actor ; what's the matter with you, eh, Frank ? " " Nothing," replied I, taking my seat ; " don't drive too fast throiigh the park, I want to look at the view as we go along." In obedience to the gaunt domestic's mysterious injunction I made the best use of my eyes as we retraced our way tlii'ough the park, and for my pains had the satisfaction of beholding a solitary rabbit, half hidden under a dock-leaf, and sundi'y carrion crows. CHAPTER XVIII. THE GAME IN BARSTONE PARK. " The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, and say what thou see'st yond." I'empest. "Accost, Sir Andrew, accost." — Twelfth Night. " Let us go thank him and encouraere him : My Ghiardian' t rough and envious disposition Strikes me at heart— Sir, you have well deserved." A> lou Like It. We had arrived within a quarter of a mile of the gate, and I had just settled to my thorough dissatisfaction that the old footman must be a humourist, and had diverted himself by making a kind of April fool out of season of me, when, through the trees, which at that spot stretched their huge branches across the road so as to form a complete arch, I fancied I perceived the flutter of a woman's di*ess ; and in another moment, a turn in the drive disclosed to my view a female form, which I instantly recognized as that of Clara Saville. 128 FRANK FAIRLEGH Without a minute's hesitation I sprang to the grovmd before Lawless had time to piill up, and, saying to him, " I shall be back again directly ; wait for me, there's a good fellow," I hastily entered a winding path, which led through the trees to the spot where I had seen the yovmg lady, leaving my companion mute from astonishment. Up to this moment, acting solely from a soi-t of instinctive impulse which made me wish to see and speak to Miss Saville, I had never considered the light in which my proceedings might appear to her. What right, I now asked myself, had I to intrude upon her privacy, and, as it were, force my company upon her, whether she wished it or not ? Might she not look upon it as an impertinent intrusion ? As these thoughts flitted through my brain, I slackened my pace ; and had it not been for very shame, could have found in my heai-t to turn back again. This, however, I resolved not to do ; having com- mitted myself so far, I determined to give her an opportunity of seeing me, and if she should show any intention of avoiding me, it would then be time enough to I'etrace my steps and leave her un- molested. With this design I proceeded slowly up the path, stopping now and then as if to admire the view, until a turn of the walk brought me in sight of a i-ustic bench, on which was seated the young lady I had before obsei-ved. As soon as she perceived me, she rose and turned towards me, disclosing as she did so, the graceful form and lovely features of my partner of the preceding evening. The morning costume, including a most irresistible little cottage- bonnet lined with pink, was even more becoming to her than the ball- dress ; and when, instead of the cold air of constraint which had characterized her manner of the previous evening, she advanced to meet me with a slight blush and the most bewitching smile of welcome that ever set man's heart beating, I thought I had never seen anything so perfectly beautiful before. " I must ask yom* forgiveness for venturing thus to intra de upon jou, Miss Saville," began I, after we had exchanged salutations ; " but the temptation of learning from your own lips that you had sustained no injury was too strong to be resisted, more particularly after the disappointment of finding you were from home when I did myseK the pleasure of calling on Mr. Venior to inquire after you." " Nay, there is nothing to forgive," replied Miss Saville ; " on the contrary," she continued, blushing slightly, " I was anxious to see yovi, in order to thank you for the eminent service you rendered me yesterday evening.'' " Really it is not worth mentioning," returned I ; "it is only what any other gentleman in the room would have done had he. been in my situation ; it was good Mrs. Trottles' shawl saved you ; I could have done nothing without that." " You shall not cheat me out of my gratitude in that way," replied she, smiling : " the shawl would have been of little avail had it not been so promptly and energetically applied ; and as for the other gen- tlemen, they certainly were very ready with their offers of assistance FRANK FAIRLEGH 129 after the danger was over. I am afraid," she continued, looking down, " you must have repented the trouble you had taken when you found what a thankless person you had exerted yourseK to save." " Indeed, no such idea crossed my mind for an instant ; the slight senace I was able to render you was quite repaid by the pleasure of knowing that I had been fortunate enough to prevent you from sustaining injury," said I. " You are very kind," was the reply ; " but I can assui-e you I have been exceedingly annoyed by imagining how wholly destitute of gratitude you must have considered me ? " " Lucy Markham told me such would be the case," replied I, smiling. " Did she ? — a dear warm-hearted girl — she always does me justice ! " exclaimed Miss Saville, as she raised her beautiful eyes, sparkling with animation, to my face. She then, for the fii'st time, observed my injured arm, and added quickly, "But you wear your arm in a sling ; I hope — that is — I am afraid — I tnist it was not injured last night ! " " It is a mere tiifle," replied I ; " the wiistband of my sleeve caught fire, and burnt my arm, but it is nothing of any consequence, I can assure you." "I am sure you must have thought me sadly ungrateful," returned my companion ; " you exerted yourself, and successfully, to save my life, receiving a painful injury in so doing, whilst I left the house without offei-ing you the thanks due even to the commonest service imaginable." " Tou were not then aware that I had burnt my arm, remember ; and forgive me for adding," returned I (for I saw that she was really distressed at the idea of my considering her wanting in gratitude), " that it did not require any unusual degree of penetration to perceive that you were not altogether a free agent." " No, indeed," replied she, eagerly catehing at the idea ; " Mr. Vemor, my guardian — he always means to be very kind, I am sure ; but," she added, sinking her voice, " he is so very particular, and he speaks so sternly sometimes, that — I know it is very silly— but I cannot help feeling afraid of him. I mention this, sir, to prevent your judging me too harshly, and I trust to your generosity not to take any unfair advantage of my openness ; and now," she added, fixing her large eyes iipon me with an imploring look which would have melted the toughest old anchorite that ever chewed gray peas, " you will not think me so very imgrateful, will you ? " " My deal* Miss Saville," replied I, " let me beg you to believe I never dreamt of blaming you for a moment ; on the contraiy, I pay you no compliment, but only mention the simple truth, when I tell you that I admired your behaviour throughout the whole affair exceedingly ; your presence of mind and self-control were greater than, under the circumstances, I could have supposed possible." As she made no reply to this, but remained looking steadfastly on the 130 FRANK FAIRLEGH ground, with lier head tiimed so as to conceal her face, I continued : " I hope it is unnecessary for me to add that you need not entei-tain the shghtest fear of my making any indiscreet use of the frankness with which you have done me the honour of speaking to me— but I am forgetting half my business," added I, wishing to set her at ease again : " I am charged with all sorts of kind messages to you from good Mrs. Coleman and Miss Markham ; I pi*esume you would wish me to tell them I have had the pleasure of ascertaining that you have sustained no ill eSects from your alarm." " Oh yes, by all means," replied Miss SaviUe, looking up with a pleased expression, " give my kind love to them both, and teU dear Lucy I shall come over to see her as soon as ever I can." " I will not intnide upon you longer, then, having delivered my message," said I ; " I have kept my companion, the gentleman who was so unfortunate as to overtm-n the candelabnim, waiting an unconscionable time already ; he is very penitent for his offence ; may I venture to relieve his mind by telling him that you forgive him?" " Pray do so," was the reply ; " I never bear malice ; besides, it was entirely an accident, you know. How thoroughly wretched he seemed when he found what he had done ! frightened as I was, I could scarcely help laughing when I caught a glimpse of his face, he looked so delightfully miserable," added she, with a men-y laugh. After a moment's pause she continued : " I'm afraid Mr. Yernor will think I am lost, if he should happen to inquire after me, and I'm not forthcoming." " Surely," said I, " he can never be so uni-easonable as to blame you for such a trifle as remaining five minutes too long ? Does he expect you to be a nun because he lives in a priory ? " " Almost, I really think," was the reply ; " and now good-bye, Mr. Fairlegh," she continued — " I shall feel happier since I have been able to explain to you that I am not quite a monster of ingratitude." " If that is the case, I am bound to rejoice in it also," answered I, " though I would fain convince you that the explanation was not required." Her only reply to this was an incredulous shake of the head ; and, once more wishing me good morning, she tripped along the path ; and when I turned to look again, her graceful figiu-e had disappeared among the trees. With a flushed brow and beating heari (gentle reader, I was barely twenty), I hastened to rejoin my companion, who, as might be expected, was not in the most amiable humour imaginable, having had to restrain the impatience of two fiery horses for a space of time nearly approaching a quarter of an hoiu*. " Really, Lawless," I began, " I am quite ashamed." " Oh, you are, are you ? " was the rejoinder. " I should rather think you ought to be, too. But it's always the way with you fellows who pretend to be steady and moral, and aU that sort of thing : FRANK FAIRLEGH 131 Tvlien you do find a cliance of getting into miscliief, you're worse a gi'eat deal than a man like myself, for instance, who, without being bothered with any particular principles of any kind, has what I call a general sense of fitness and propriety, and does his dissipation sensibly and coiTCctly. But to go teai-ing off like a lunatic after the first petticoat you see fluttering among the bushes in a gentleman's park, and leaving your friend to hold in two thoroughbred peppery devils, that are enough to pull a man's arms off, for about a q^iarter of a horn-, it's too bad a great deal. Why, just before you came. I fully expected when that mare was plunging about on her hind legs—" " How lovely she looked ! " interrupted I, thinking aloud. " You thought so, did you ? " rejoined Lawless ; " I wish you'd just had to hold her ; her mouth's as hard — " " Her mouth is perfect," replied I, emphatically; " quite perfect." " Well, that's cool," muttered Lawless ; " he'U put me in a passion directly ; — pray, su-, may I ask how on earth you come to know any- thing about her mouth ? " " How do I know anything about her mouth ? " exclaimed I. " Did I not watch with delight its ever-vai-ying expressions — mark each movement of those beautiful lips, and di-ink in every syllable that fell from them ? — not observe her mouth ! Think you, when we have been conversing together for the last quarter of an hour, that I could fail to do so ? " " Oh, he's gone stark staring mad ! " exclaimed Lawless ; " strait- waistcoats, Bedlam, and aU that sort o' thing, you know ; — conversing with my bay mare for the last quarter of an hour, and diinking in every syllable that fell from her beautiful lips — oh, he's raving ! " " What do you mean ? " said I, at length awaking to some con- sciousness of sublunary affairs — " Tour mare ! — who ever thought of your mare ? it's Miss SaviUe I'm talking about." '■ Miss Saville ! " repeated Lawless, giving vent to a long whistle, expressive of incredulity ; " why, you don't mean to say you've been talking to Miss Saville all this time, do you ? " "To be sure I have," replied I ; " and a very interesting and agreeable conversation it was too." '• Well ! " exclaimed Lawless, after a short pause ; " all the luck in this matter seems to fall to your share ; so the sooner I get out of it the better. It won't break my heart, that's one comfort;— if the young woman has the bad taste to prefer you to me, why, it can't be helped, you know ;— but what did she say for herself, eh ? " " She sent you her forgiveness for one thing," replied I ; and I then proceeded to relate such particulars of the interview as I considered expedient; which recital, and our remarks thereupon, furnished conversation during the remainder of our drive. 132 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XIX. TURNING THE TABLES. " ' You should also make no noise in the streets.' " ' You may stay him.' " ' Nay, bv'r la^iy. that I think he cannot.' " ' Five shiliino-s to one on't with any man that knows the statutes, he may stay him. His wits are not so blunt as, God help, I would desire they were. It is an offence to stay a man agaimf his will. Dost thou not suspect my place ? dost though not suspect my years ? O that he were here to write me down an ass ! but, masters, remember that I am an ass : though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass.' " — Much Ado About Nothing. About a week liad elapsed after the events wliicli I have just recorded, when one morning, shortly before my retxim to Cambridge, I received a letter from Coleman, detailing the finale of the bell- ringing a:ffair. It ran as follows : — " My dear Frank, — Doubtless you are, or ought to be, very anxious to hear how I contrived to get out of the scrape into which you and the Honoui-able George managed to inveigle me, having previously availed youi'selves of my innocence, and succeeded through the seductive mediiun of oysters and porter, in coiTuptiug my morals, and leaving me, poor victim ! to bear the blame, and suffer the conseqiiences, of oiu' common misdemeanour. However, mine is no pitiful spirit to be quelled by misf ortime, and, as dangers thickened around me, I bore up against them bravely, like — like — (was it Julius Caesar or Coriolanus who did that sortlof thing ?) but never mind — like a Roman brick, we'U say ; the particular brick is quite immaterial, but I must beg you to believe the likeness was something striking. To descend to particulars : Hostilities were commenced by that old ass, Mayor Dullmug, who took out a summons against me for creating a riot and distm-bance in the town, and the first day the bench sat, I was marched off by two policemen, and locked up in a little dirty room, to keep cool till their worships were ready to discuss me. Well, there I sat, kicking my heels, and chuckling over a heart-rending little scene I had just gone through with my mother, whose dread of the terrors of the law was greatly increased by the very vague ideas she possessed of the extent of its powers. The pimishment she had settled in her own mind as likely to be awarded me was transporta- tion, and her farewell address was as foUows : — ' If they should be cruel enough to order you to be transported for fourteen years, Freddy, my dear, I shall try to persuade your father (though he's just like a savage North American Indian about you) to get it changed ' for life ' instead, for they always die of the yeUow fever for the sharks to eat them, when they've been over three or four years ; and four years are better than fourteen, though bad's the best. FRANK FAIRLEGH 183 and I'm a miserable woman. I read all about it last week in one of Captain Marryat's books, and very shocking I thougbt it.' Having ventured to hint that, if I was carried off by the yellow fever at the end of a year or two, the length of my sentence would not signify much to me when I was dead, I was rebuked with, ' Don't talk in that shocking way, Frederick, as if you were a heathen, in youi* situation, and I hearing you your collect evei-y Sunday, besides Mrs. Hannah More, who might have been a saint if ever there was one, or any- thing else she liked, with her talents, only she was too good for this wicked world, and so she went to a better, and wrote that charming book, ' Coelebs in Search of a Wife.' ' Oh, my poor dear mother's queer sentences! I was becoming shockingly tu-ed of my own company, when it occun-ed to me that it would be the con-ect thing to carve my name on the Newgate stone a la Jack Shepherd ; and I was just putting a few finishing strokes to the N of Coleman, where- with, in characters at least six inches long, I had embellished a vei*y conspicuous spot over the chimney-piece, when I was sm-prised, ' with my chisel so fijie, tra la ' (i.e. with a red-hot poker which I had been obliged to put up with instead, it being the only instmment attainable), by the officials, who came to summon me, and who did not appear in the slightest degree capable of appreciating the beauties of my perfonnance. By them I was straightway conducted into the awful presence of sundry elderly gentlemen, rejoicing in all heads more or less bald, and faces expressing various degi'ees of solemn stupidity, who in their proper persons constituted ' the bench.' Before these grave and reverend signiors did Master Dullmug and his satellites ' Then and there, Kehearse and declare ' all my heinous crimes, offences, and misdemeanours ; whereupon the aforesaid signiors did solemnly shake their bald heads, and appear exceedingly shocked and particularly puzzled. "Well, at last I was called upon for my defence, and, having made up my mind for some time what line I would take, I cut the matter veiy short by owning to have assisted in ringing the bells, which I confessed was an act of folly, but nothing more, and that the idea of its constituting an offence punishable by law was absurd in the extreme. This sent them to book, and after turning over sundry ponderous tomes, and consulting various statutes of all sorts and sizes, laesides whispering together, and shaking then* heads once and again, till I began to fear that their necks would be dislocated, they ai'rived at the conclusion that I was right, or thereabouts. This fact the eldest, most bald, and most stupid of the pai-ty, chosen by common consent, doubtless in virtue of these attributes, as spokesman, proceeeded to communi- cate to me in a very prosy harangue, to which he appended a lectm-e — a sort of stock article, which he evidently kept constantly on hand with blanks which could be filled up to suit any class of offenders. 134 FRANK FAIRLEGH lu this harangue he pointed out the danger of juvenile tricks, and the evils of dissipation, winding up with the assurance that, as I seemed deeply sensible of the error of my ways, they, the magistrates, would, on my making a suitable apology to that excellent public functionary, the Mayor of HiUingford, graciously deign to overlook my misconduct. During his long-winded address, a new idea stnick me, and when he had concluded, I inquired, with all due respect, whether ' I was to understand that it was quite certain I had com- mitted no offence punishable by law ? ' To this he replied, ' that I might set my mind completely at ease upon that point ; that though, morally speaking, I had been guilty of a very serious misdemeanour, in the eye of the law I was perfectly innocent.' ' In that case, gentle- men,' replied I, ' the liberty of the subject has been infi-inged ; I have been kept in illegal confinement for some hours, and I believe I have my remedy in an action for false imprisonment against Mr. Dullmug. Does not the law bear me out in what I state ? ' Again they had recourse to their books, and were imwillingly forced to confess that I was right. ' Then,' continued I, ' so far from making any apology to Mr. Dullmug, unless that gentleman consents to beg my pardon, and gives me a written apology for the unjust and illegal prosecution to which he has subjected me, I shall at once take the necessary steps to proceed against him.' Oh, Frank, I would have given something to have had you there, old boy ! when I announced this determination : there was such a shindy as 1 never before witnessed : old Dullmug was furious, and vowed he'd never apologize: I declared if he didn't nothing should prevent me from bringing my action : the magistrates tried to persuade me, but I was inflexible ; and (by Jove ! I was very- near forgetting the best part of it all) my governor, who was in court, the moment he saw the law was on my side, turned suddenly round, swore I had been shamefully used, and that if it cost him evei-y farthing he possessed in the world, he would see justice done me. So the end of it was that old Dullmug was forced to wi-ite the apology; it now lies in my wi-i ting- desk, and I look upon it as one of the proudest trophies man ever possessed. So, Master Frank, considering all things, I think I may reckon I got pretty well out of that scrape. " Ever your affectionate F. C. " P.S. — "What have you said or done to render old Yemor so bitter against you ? Clara Saville tells Lucy that, when she informed him of her having met and conversed with you alone in the park that day, he flew into such a rage as she had never seen him in before, and abused you like a pickpocket; and she says she feels certain that, for some cause or other, he entertains a strong personal dislike to you. ' Entre nous,' I don't think the fair Clara seems exactly to S3Tnpathize with him in this feeling. Considering that you had somewhat less than half an hour to make play in, from Lucy's account you do not seem to have wasted much time. Ah ! Master Frank, you are a naughty boy ; I can't help sighing when I reflect FRANK FAIRLEGH 135 liow anxious yoiir poor dear mother must feel about you, wlien she tnows you're out." " Still the same light-hearted meiTy fellow as ever," exclaimed I, as I closed the letter; "how long, I wonder, will those buoyant spirits of his resist the depressing effect which contact with the harsh realities of life appears always sooner or later to produce ? Strange, what he says about that Mr. Yemor ; I am not conscious that I ever met the man till the evening of the ball, and yet I fancied there was something which seemed not utterly unfamiliar to me in the expression of his face. Vemor ! Yemor ! I don't believe I ever heard the name before — it's very odd. Of course, what he says about Miss Saville is all nonsense; and yet there was something in her manner which made me fancy, if I had time and opportunity — pshaw ! what absurdity — I shall have enough to do if I am to imagine myself in love with evei-y nice girl who says, ' Thank you ' prettily for any trifling service I may chance to render her. I am sure she is not happy, poor thing! Seriously, I wish I were sufficiently intimate with her to afford her the advice and assistance of a friend, should such be ever required by her. I should take the liberty of asking old Yemor what he meant by his extraordinary behavioiu' towards me, were I to see much more of him ; there's nothing like a little plain speaking. But I need not trouble my brains about the matter ; I shall probably never meet either of them again, so what does it signify ? She certainly is the loveliest girl I ever saw, though ! heigho ! " and, with a sigh, for which I should have been somewhat puzzled rationally to account, I took up my gun and set off for a day's shooting with Hari-y Oaklands. CHAPTER XX. ALMA MATEB. " He's a good divine that follows his own instructions ; I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree."— Merchant of Venice, Time, that venerable and much-vituperated individual, who, if he has to answer for some acts savouring of a taste for wanton destmction — if he now and then lunches on some noble old abbey, which had remained a memorial of the deep piety and marvellous skill of our forefathers— if he crops, by way of salad, some wide- spreading beech or hoary patriarchal oak, which had flung its shade 136 FRANK FAIRLEGH over the tombs of countless generations, and, as it stood forming a link between the present and thelpast, won men's reverence hy force of contrast with their own ephemeral existence— yet atones for his delinquencies by softening the bitteniess of grief, blunting the shai-p edge of pain, and affording to the broken-hearted the rest, and to the slaves the freedom of the grave ;— old Time, I say, who should be praised at all events for his perseverance and steadiness, swept onward with his scythe, and cutting his way through the frost and snow of winter, once more beheld the dust of that " brother of the east wind," March, convei-ted into mud by the showers of April, and the summer was again approaching. It was on a fine morning in May, that, as Oaklands and I were breakfasting together in my rooms at Trinity, we heard a tap at^the door, and the redoubtable Shrimp made his appearance. This interesting youth had, imder Lawless's able tuition, arrived at such a pitch of knowingness, that it was utterly impossible to make him credit anything ; he had not the smallest particle of confidence remaining in the integrity of man, woman, or child; and, like many another of the would-be wise in their generation, the only flaw in his scepticism was the bigoted nature of his faith in the false and hateful doctrine of the universal depravity of the human race. Helwas the bearer of a missive from his master, inviting Oaklands and myself to a wine-party at his rooms that evening. "I suppose we may as well go," said Oaklands ; " I like a positive engagement somewhere — it saves one the trouble of thinking what one shall do with one's self." " Tou can accept it," replied I, " but it would be a waste of time which I have no right to allow myself ; not only does it make one idle while it lasts, but the next day also, for I defy a man to read to any purpose the morning after one of Lawless's symposia." " CaU it supper, my dear boy," returned Oaklands, stretching himself ; " why do you take the trouble to use a long word when a short one would do just as well ? If I could but get you to economize youi" labour and take things a little more easily, it would be of the greatest advantage to yo\i ; — that everlasting reading, too— I tell you what, Frank, you are reading a great deal too hard ; you look quite pale and ill. I promised Mrs. Fairlegh I would not let you over- work yom-self , and you shall not either.| ^Come, you must and shall go to this party ; you want relaxation and amusement, and those fellows will contrive to rouse you up a bit, and do you good." " To say the truth," I replied, " that^s one of my chief objections to going. Lawless I like, for the sake of old recollections, and because he is at bottom a well-disposed, good-hearted fellow ; but I cannot approve of the set of men one meets there. It is not merely their being what is termed ' fast ' that I object to ; for though I do not set up for a sporting character myself, I am rather amused than otherwise to mix occasionally with that style of men ; but there is a tone of recklessness^ in the conversation of the set we meet there, a FRANK FAIRLEGH 137 want of reverence for everything liuman and divine, which, I confess, disgusts me— they seem to consider no object too high or too low to make a jest of." " I understand the kind of thing you refer to," answered Oaklands, " but I think it's only one or two of them who offend in that way ; there's one man who is my pai-ticular aversion ; I declai'e if I thought he'd be there to-night I would not go." " I think I know who you mean," replied I ; " Stephen Wilford, is it not ? the man they call ' Butcher,' from some bratal thing he once did to a horse." " You're right, Frank ; I can scarcely sit quietly by and hear that man talk. I suppose he sees that I dislike him, for there is some- thing in liis manner to me which is almost offensive ; really at times I fancy he wishes to pick a quan-el with me." "Not unlikely," said I; "he has the reputation of being a dead shot with the pistol, and on the strength of it he px-esumes to bully every one." " He had better not go too far with me," returned Oaklands, with flashing eyes ; " men ai-e not to be frightened like children ; such a character as that is a public nuisance." " He will not be there to-night, I am glad to say," rephed I, " for I met him yesterday when I was walking with Lawless, and he said he was engaged with Wentworth this evening ; but, my dear HaiTy, for Heaven's sake avoid any quan-el with this man ; should you not do so, you will only be hazarding your life unnecessarily, and it can lead to no good result." " My dear fellow, do I ever quaiTel with anybody ? there is nothing worth the trouble of quan-elling about in this world; besides, it would be an immense fatigue to be shot," obsei-ved Harry, smiling. " I have no great faith in your pacific sensations, for they are nothing more," rejoined I ; "your indolence always fails you where it might be of use in subduing (forgive me for using the term) youi* fiery temper; besides, in allowing a man of this kind to quan-el with you, you give him just the opportunity he wants; in fact, you are completely playing his game." " Well, I can't see that exactly ; suppose the worst comes to the worst, and you are obliged to fight him, he stands nearly as good a chance of being killed as you do." "Excuse me, he does nothing of the kind; going out with a professed duellist is like playing cards with a skilful gambler ; the chances ai-e very gi-eatly in his favour : in the first place, nine men out of ten would lose their nei-ve entu-ely when stationed opposite the pistol of a dead shot ; then again, there are a thousand apparent ti-ifles of which the initiated are aware, and which make the greatest difference, such as securing a proper position with regard to the sun, taking care that youi- figure is not in a direct line with any upright object, a tree or post, for instance, and lots of other things of a like nature which we know nothing about, all of which he is ' certain to 138 FRANK FAIRLEGH contrive to have arranged favourably for himself, and disadvan- tageously for his opponent. Then, having, as it were, trained himself for the occasion, he is perfectly cool and collected, and ready to avail himself of every circumstance he might turn to his advantage — a moment's hesitation in pulling the trigger when the signal is given, and he fires first — many a man has received his death- wound before now ere he had discharged his own pistol." " My dear boy," said Harry, " you really are exciting and alarming yourself very unnecessarily ; I am not going to quarrel with Wilf ord or anybody else ; I detest active exertion of every kind, and consider duelling as a fashionable compound of iniquity, containing equal parts of murder and suicide — and we'U go to Lawless's this evening, that I'm determined upon — and — let me see — I've got James's new novel in my pocket. I shall not disturb you if I stay here, shall I ? I'm not going to talk." Then, without waiting for an answer, he stretched himself at full length on (and beyond) the sofa, and was soon bm-ied in the pages of that best of followers in the footsteps of the mighty Wizard of the North — Walter Scott — leaving me to the somewhat less agreeable task of reading mathematics. CHAPTER XXI. THE WINE-PARTT. " This night I hold an old-accustomed feast. Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love." " A fair assembly, whither should they come ? Servant. — Up ! Someo. — Whither ? S$rvant. — To supper." Shaketpeare. " All is not false that seems at first a lie." Souihey. " Do you hite your thumb at us, sir? I do bite my thumb, sir ! Do you quarrel, sir? Quarrel, sir ! No, sir ! If you do, sir, I am for you," Shake$peare. Xet the reader imagine a long table covered with the remains of an excellent dessert, interspersed with a multitude of bottles of all shapes and sizes, containing every variety of wine that money could procure, or palate desire ; whilst in the centre stood a glorious old china bowl of pimch, which the guests were discussing in tumblers — wine-glasses FRANK FAIRLEGH 139 "having been unanimously voted much too slow. Around this table let there be seated from fifteen to twenty men, whose ages might vary from nineteen to three or fom- and twenty; some smoking cigars, some talking vociferously, some laughing, some, though they were decidedly the minority, listening : but all showing signs of being more or less elated by the wine they had taken. Let the reader imagine all this, and he will have formed a pretty con-ect idea of the supper-party in Lawless's rooms, as it appeared about ten o'clock on the evening subsequent to the conversation I have just detailed. " Didn't I see you riding a black horse with one white stocking yesterday, Oaklands ? " inquired a young man with a round jovial countenance, which might have been reckoned handsome but for the extreme redness of the complexion and the loss of a front tooth, occasioned by a fall received in the hunting-field, whose name was Richard, or, as he was commonly termed, Dick Curtis. " Yes," replied Oaklands, " I dare say you did ; I was trying him." " Ah ! I fancied he was not one of your own." " No ; he belongs to Tom Barret, who wants me to buy him ; but I don't think he's strong enough to cany my weight: there's not substance enough about him ; I ride nearly eleven stone." " Oh ! he'll never do for you," exclaimed Lawless. " I know the horse well ; they call him Blacksmith, because the man who bred him was named Smith ; he lives down in Lincolnshire, and breeds lots of horses ; but they are none of them, at least none that I have seen, what I call the right sort; don't you buy him, he's got too much daylight under him to suit you." " Too long in the pasterns to carry weight," urged Curtis. " Rather inclined to be cow-hocked," chimed in Lawless. " Not ribbed home," remarked Curtis. " Too nan-ow across the loins," observed Lawless. " He'll never carry flesh," continued Curtis. " It's useless to think of his jumping ; he'll never make a hunter," said Lawless. " Only hear them ! " inteiTupted a tall, fashionable-looking young man, with a high forehead and a profusion of light, curling hair ; " now those two fellows are once off, it's all up with anything like rational conversation for the rest of the evening." " That's right, Ai-cher, put the cui-b on 'em ; we might as well be in Tattersall's yard at once," observed another of the company, addressing the last speaker. " I fear it's beyond my power," replied Archer ; " they've got such an incurable trick of talking equine scandal, and taking away the <5haracters of their neighbours' horses, that nobody can stop them unless it is Stephen Wilf ord." The mention of this name seemed to have the effect of rendering everyone gi-ave, and a pause ensued, during which Oaklands and I exchanged glances. At length the silence was broken by Curtis, who «aid, — 140 FRANK FAIRLEGH " By the way, what's become of WUford ? I expected to meet him here to-night." " He was engaged to dine with Wentworth," said Lawless ; " but he promised to look in upon us in the com'se of the evening ; I thought he would have been here before this." As he spoke, a tap was heard at the room door. " Well, that's odd," continued Lawless ; " that's Wilford for a ducat ; talk of the devil, eh, don't you know ? Come in." " Tou had better not repeat that in his hearing," observed Archer, " though I believe he'd take it as a compliment on the whole ; it's my opinion he rather affects the satanic." " Hush," said Curtis, pressing his aiin, " here he is." As he spoke, the door opened, and the subject of their remarks entered. He was rather above the middle height, of a slight but unusually elegant figure, with remarkably small hands and feet, the former of which were white and smooth as those of a woman. His features were delicately formed and regular, and the shape of his face a perfect oval ; strongly marked eyebrows overshadowed a pair of piercing black eyes ; his lips were thin and compressed, and his mouth finely cut ; his hair, which was unusually glossy and luxuriant, was jet black, as were his whiskers, affording a marked contrast to the death-like pallor of his countenance. The only fault that could be found in the di-awing of his face was that the eyes were placed too near together; but this imparted a character of intensity to his glance which added to, rather than detracted from, the general effect of his appearance. His features, when in repose, were usually marked by an expression of contemptuoiis indifference ; he seldom laughed, but his smile conveyed an indication of such bitter sarcasm that I have seen men, whom he chose to make a butt for his ridicule, TVTithe xmder it as under the infliction of bodily tortm-e. He was dressed, as was his wont, entirely in black ; but his clothes, which were fashion- ably cut, fitted him without a wrinkle. He bowed slightly to the assembled company, and then seated himself in a chair which had been reserved for him at the upper end of the table, nearly opposite Oaklands and myself, saying as he did so : " I'm afraid I'm rather late, Lawless, but Wentworth and I had a little business to transact, and I could not get away sooner." " What devil's deed have they been at now, I wonder ? " whispered Oaklands to me. " Manslaughter, most likely," replied Ai-cher (who was seated next to me, and had overheard the remark). " Wilford appears so thoroughly satisfied with himself ; that was just the way in which he looked the morning he winged Sheiiingham, for I saw him myself," " Send me down the claret, wiU you, Curtis P " asked Wilford. " Punch is a beverage I don't patronize ; it makes a man's hand shaky." " If that is the case," said Archer, " you ought to make a point of FRANK FAIRLEGH 141 drinking it for tlie good of society, my dear Wilf ord ; let me lielp you to a glass." " Nonsense, Archer, be quiet, man ; here, taste this cool bottle, "Wilf ord; claret's good for nothing if it's at all flat," exclaimed Lawless, drawing the cork of a fresh magnum as he spoke, " I differ from you in that opinion, Ai'cher," returned Wilford, fixing his keen black eyes upon the person he addressed with a piercing glance ; " society is like the wine in this glass," and he filled a bumper to the brim as he spoke ; " it requkes a steady hand to keep it withta its proper bounds, and to compel it to preserve an unruffled surface ; " and so saying he raised the glass to his lips withoiit spilling a drop, still keeping his eyes fixed upon Archer's face with the same withering glance. " Well, I have often heard of looking daggers at a person," con- tinued Archer, who had been drinking somewhat deeply dui-ing the evening, and now appeared possessed by a spirit of mischief leading him to tease and annoy Wilford in every way he could think of ; ■' but Wilford does worse, he positively looks pistols — cocked and loaded pistols — at one. Fairlegh, I shall screen myself behind youi- broad shoulders : I never could stand fire." So saying, he seized me by the elbows, and, urging me forward, crouched down behind me, affecting the extremity of terror. The scowl on Wilf ord's brow deepened as he spoke, but, after a moment's hesitation, apparently considering the affair too absurd to take notice of, he turned away with a contemptuous smile, saying, " You make your pimch too strong, Lawless." Ai-cher instantly recovered his erect attitude, and with a flushed face seemed about to make some angi-y reply, when Lawless, who appeared nervously anxious that the evening should pass over harmoniously, interposed. " Ai'cher, you're absolutely incorrigible ; keep him in order, Fairlegh, eh ? give him some more punch, and fill your own glass — it has been empty I don't know how long. I'll find a toast that will make you drink — bumpers round, gentlemen, ' to the health of the prettiest gu-1 in Hei'tfordshire.' Are you all charged ? I beg to propose — " " Excuse me interrupting you. Lawless," exclaimed I — for I felt Geitain who it was he was thinking of ; and the idea of Miss Saville's name being mentioned and discussed with the tone of license common on such occasions, appeared to me such complete profanation, that I determined, be the consequences what they might, to pi-event it; — " Excuse my inten-upting you, but I should feel greatly obliged by your substituting some other toast for the one you are about to pi'opose." " Eh, what! not drink the young woman's health ? why, I thought you admired her more thr.,n I do ; not drink her health ? how's that, eh?" " I shall be most happy to explain to you the reasons for my request at some other time," replied I ; "at present I can only add 142 FRANK FAIRLEGH that I shall consider it as a personal favour if you will accede- to it." " It does not appear to me to require an CEdipua to discover Mr. Fairlegli's reasons for this request," obsei-ved Stephen Wilf ord ; " he- evidently does not consider the present company deserving of the- high honour of di-inking the health of a young lady whom he dis- tinguishes by his admiration." "Not over-flattering, I must say," muttered Lawless, looking^ annoyed. " I suppose he's afraid of our hearing her name, lest some of us- should go and cut him out," suggested Curtis in an undertone, which was, however, perfectly audible. " In the meanwhile. Lawless, I hope you're not going to indulge- your friend's caprice at the expense of the rest of the company," resumed Wilford; "having raised our expectations you are bound to gratify them." Lawless, who evidently hesitated between his desu-e to assert his independence and his wish to oblige me, was beginning with hia usual, " Eh ? why, don't you see," when I internipted him by sayings " Allow me to set this matter at rest in a very few words. Lawless^ I hope, knows me well enough to feel sui-e that I could not intend any disrespect either to himself or to his guests— I believe it is not such an unheard-of thing for a gentleman to object to the name of any lady whom he respects being commented upon with the free- dom incidental to a convivial meeting like the present— however that may be, I have asked Lawless as a favour not to drink a certain toast in my presence ; should he be unwilling to comply with my request^ as I would not wish to be the slightest restraint upon him at his own table, I shall request his permission to withdraw ; on this point I await his decision. I have only one more observation to make,"" continued I, looking at Wilford, who was e\ndently preparing to speak, " which is, that if, after what I have just said, any gentleman^ should continue to urge Lawless to give the toast to which I object^ I must perforce consider that he wishes to insult me." As I concluded there was a murmur of applause, and Archer and one or two others turned to Lawless, declaring it was quite impossible to press the matter f m-ther after what I had said ; when Wilford, in. a cold sarcastic tone of voice, observed, " I am sorry IVIr. Fairlegh's- last argument should have failed in convincing me as easily as it seems to have done some others of the party ; such, however, unfor- tunately being the case, I must repeat, even at the risk of incm-iing- a thing so tei-rible as that gentleman's displeasiu-e, my decided opinion that Lawless, ha-ving iniormed us that he was going to di-ink a particular toast, should not allow himself to be buUied out of it, in. compliance with any man's humour." This speech, as it might be expected, produced great excitement ; I sprang to my feet (an example followed by several of the party),, and was about to make an angry reply, when Oaklands, who, up to ^W^'f/t. '^v^■'J^^.SkAA}(^ FRANK FAIRLEGH 143 this moment, liad taken no part in the discussion, but sat sipping his ■wine with his usual air of listless contentment, apparently indifferent to, if not wholly unconscious of, all that was goin.^ on, now rose from his seat, and having obtained silence, said, '" Really, gentlemen, all this confusion appears to me very unnecessary, when-a word from our host will end it. Fairlegh has asked you not to propose a certain toast ; it only remains for you, Lawless, to say whether you intend to do so or not." Thus ui'ged, Lawless replied, " Eh ? no, certainly not ; Frank Fairlegh's a trump, and I would not do anything to annoy him for more than I can tell : besides, when I come to think of it, I believe he was right, and I was wrong — but you see, women are a kind of cattle I don't clearly understand — if it was a horse now — " A bui'st of laughter at this characteristic remark drowned the con- clusion of the speech, but the announcement that the toast was given up appeared to produce general satisfaction ; for, since I had spoken the popular opinion had been decidedly in my favom". " The cause of this little interruption to the harmony of the evening being removed," resumed Oaklands, " suppose we see whether its effects may not as easily be got rid of. Every man, I take it, has a right to express his o^ti opinion, and I think Fairlegh must allow that he was a little hasty in presupposing that by so doing an insult was intended. This being the case, he will, I am sui-e, agree with me that he ought not to take any notice of Mr. Wilfoi'd's remark." " Yes, to be sure, that's it — all right, eh ? " exclaimed Lawless " come, Fairlegh, as a favour to me, let the matter end here." Thus urged, I could only reply that " I was quite willing to defer to their judgment, and do whatever they considered right " — and as "Wilf ord (though I could see that he was annoyed beyond measure at having failed in persuading Lawless to give the toast) remained silent, merely curling his lip contemptuously when I spoke, here the affair ended. As soon as the conversation became general, Oaklands turned to me with a mischievous smile, and asked, in an undertone, " Pray, Master Frank, what's become of all the wisdom and i:>rudence x-ecommended to me this morning ? I am afraid you quite exhausted your stock, and have not reserved any for yom- own use. "Who's the fire-eater now, I wonder? " " Laugh away, HaiTy ; I may have acted foolishly, as is usually the case where one acts entirely from impulse ; but I could not have sat tamely by and heard Clara Saville's name polluted by ithe remarks of such men as Curtis and Wilford— I should have got into a row with them sooner or later, and it was better to check the thing at once." " My dear boy," returned Oaklands, " do not imagine for a moment that I am inclined to blame you ; the only thing that I could not help feeling rather amused at was youi* thi-owing down the gauntlet 144 FRANK FAIRLEGH to the gentleman opposite, when I recollected a certain lecture on prudence -witli which I was victimized this morning." " As you are strong, be merciful," replied I ; " and, whenever I do a foolish thing, may I always have such a f I'iend at hand to save me from the consequences." " That's a toast I will di-ink most willingly," said Oaklands, smiling; "the more so, as it reverses the position in which we generally stand with regard to each other, the alteration being decidedly in my favour : but — " he continued, inten-upting himself, "what on earth are they laughing at, and making such a row about ? " " Oh, it's merely Curtis romancing with the most unmitigated efh'ontei-y about something that neither he, nor any one else, ever did outhimting," replied Arthur : " a tremendous leap, I fancy it was." " Do not be too sm-e that it is impossible," replied I ; " a horse once cleared the mouth of a chalk pit with me on its back, when I was a boy ; Lawless remembers it." " Eh ! what ? Mad Bess ! " returned Lawless ; " I should think I did too ; I rode there aftei-wards and examined the place — a regular break-neck-looking hole as ever I saw in my life. Tell 'em about it, Frank." Thus called upon, no choice was left me but to commence the recital, which, although there are few things to which I have a greater objection than being the hero of my own story, I accordingly did. Several remarks were made as I concluded, but, owing either to my well-known dislike of exaggeration, or to the air of truthfulness with which I had told the tale, nobody seemed inclined to doubt that the adventure had occun'ed in the manner I related, although it was of a more incredible nature than the feat Cui-tis had recounted. This fact had just excited my attention, when Wilford, tm-ningto the man on his right hand, observed, " It's a great pity that some one hasn't taken notes of tbis evening's conversation ; they would have afforded materials for a new volume of the adventures of Baron Mun- chausen." My only answer to this remark, which was evidently intended for my hearing, was a slight smile, for I had determined I would not again be betrayed into any altercation with him, and, being now on my guai'd, I felt pretty siire of being able to maintain my resolution- To my annoyance, Oaklands replied, " If your remark is intended to thi'ow any discredit upon the tmth of the anecdote my friend has related, I must be excused for observing that Lawless and I, though not actually eye-witnesses of the leap, ai*e yet perfectly aware that it took place." " Was that observation addressed to me, Mr. Oaklands ? " inquired Wilford, regarding Oaklands with an insolent stare. " To you, sii', or to any other man who ventui'es to throw a doubt on what Fairlegh has just stated," replied Oaklands, his brow flusliing with anger. FRANK FAIRLEGH 145 "Really," obsei-ved Wilford, with a contemptuous sneer, "Mr. Fairlegli is most fortunate in possessing such a steady and useful friend : fii-st, when he dictates to Lawless what toasts he is to propose at his own table, and threatens the company generally with the weight of his displeasure should they venture to question the propriety of his so doing, Mi-. Oaklands kindly saves him from the consequences of this warlike declaration, by advancing the somewhat novel doctrine that his friend, having spoken unadvisedly, ought not to act up to the tenor of his words. Again, Mr. Fairlegh relates a marvellous tale of his earlier days, and Mr. Oaklands is prepared to visit the most trifling indication of disbeUef with the fire and fagots of his indignation. Gentlemen, I hope you are all good and tme Fairleghites, or you will assm-edly be bm-ned at the stake, to satisfy the bigotry of Pope Oaklands the First." During this speech, I could perceive by the veins on his forehead, swollen almost to bui-sting, his firmly-set teeth, and his hands ■clenched till the blood was forced back from the nails, that Oaklands was striving to master his passion; apparently he succeeded in a great measure, for, as Wilford concluded, he spoke calmly and deliberately: " The only reply, sir," he began, " that I shall deign to make to your elaborate insult is, that I consider it as such, and shall expect you to render me the satisfaction due to a gentleman." " No, Han-y," exclaimed I, " I cannot permit this : the quan-el, if it be a quarrel, is mine; on this point I cannot allow even you to interfere. Mr. "Wilford shall hear from me." " No, no ! " exclaimed Lawless ; " I'm sure you must see, Wilford, that this is not at all the sort of thing, eh ? recollect Oaklands and Fairlegh ai-e two of my oldest friends, and something lis due to me at aD events, eh ?— Archer— Curtis— this cannot be allowed to go on." By this time the party had with one accord risen from their seats, and divided into gi'oups, some collecting round Wilford and Lawless others about Oaklands and myself, and the confusion of tongues was perfectly deafening. At length I heard Wilford's voice exclaim, " I ■consider it unfair in the extreme to lay all this quaiTcUing and dis- tm-bance to me, and, as it is not at all to my taste, I beg to wish you a very good-evening, Lawless." " Tou will do no such thing," cried Oaklands, and, bursting through the cluster of men who siu-rounded him and endeavom-ed to detain Tiim, he sprang to the door, double-locked it, and, placing his back against it, added, " no one leaves the room till this affah- is settled one way or other." The action, the tone of voice, and the manner which accompanied them, reminded me so forcibly of a deed of a somewhat similar natm-e at Dr. Mildman's, when Oaklands fii-st heard of the loss of his letter containing the cheque, and began to suspect foul play, that for a moment the lapse of years was forgotten, and it seemed as though we were boys together again. Whenever Oaklands was excited by strong emotion of any kind, there was a proud consciousness.of power in his evei-y look and motion, L 146 FRANK FAIRLEGH wliich possessed for me an irresistible attraction : and now, as he stood, his noble figure drawn up to its fullest height, his arms folded acrosa his ample chest in an attitude of defiance a sculptor would have rejoiced to imitate ; his head thrown slightly back, and his handsome features marked by an expression of haughty indignation : when I reflected that it was a generous regard for my honour which excited that indignation, I felt that my affection for him was indeed " passing the love of women," and that he was a friend for whom a man might resolve to lay down his life willingly. While these thoughts passed through my brain, Lawless and several of the more influential members of the party had been endeavom-ing to persuade Wilf ord to own that he was in the wrong, and ought to apologize, but in vain ; the utmost concession they could get him to make was, that " he was not aware that he had offered any particular insult to Mr. Oaklands, but if that gentleman chose to put such a construction upon his words, he could not help it, and should be ready to answer for them when and where he pleased." They were then, as a last resource, about to appeal to Oaklands, when I interfered by saying " That the insult, if insvdt it was, had originated from the part I had.taken in the proceedings of the evening, and was directed far more against me than Oaklands ; that under these circumstances it was impossible for me to allow him to involve himself further in the affair. If my veracity were impugned, I was the proper person to defend it ; there could be but one opinion on that subject." To this they all agreed, and at length Oaklands himself was forced reluctantly to confess he supposed I was right. " In this case, gentlemen," I continued, " my course is clear ; I leave my honour in your hands, certain that in so doing I am taking the wisest coiu'se; honourable men and men of spirit like yourselves will, I feel certain, never recommend anything incompatible with the strictest regard for my reputation as a gentleman ; neither will you needlessly hun-y me into any act, the consequences of which might possibly embitter the whole of my after life. In order that personal feeling may not interfere any more with the matter, my friend and I will withdraw ; Lawless will kindly convey , to me your decision, on which, be it what it may, I pledge myself to act ; I wish you a very good-night." Then telling Lawless I should sit up for him, and taking leave of two or thi-ee members of the pai-ty with whom I was most intimate, I drew Oaklands' aiTQ within my own, and unlocking the door, left the room, Wilford's fierce black eyes glaring at us with a look of dis- appointed fui-y, such as I have witnessed in a caged tiger, being the last object I beheld. PRANK FAIRLEGH 147 CHAPTER XXn. TAMING A SHREW. " I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly. A quarrel." " I do repent, but Heaven hath pleased it so To punish me with this." " TVe wiU compound this quarrel." " What's that ? — " Why, a horse." " TeU thou the tale," " Nay, I will win my wager better yet, " And show more signs of her obedience." " Now go thy ways, thou hast tamed a curst shrew." Shakenpeare. " Why did you prevent me from gi\'ing that insolent scoundrel tlie lesson lie desei-ved ? " was Oaklands' first obsen^ation as we left the quadrangle in which Lawless's rooms were situated ; " I do not thank you for it, Frank." " My dear HaiTy," replied I, " you are excited at present ; when you are a little more cool you will see that I could not have acted other- wise than I did. Even supposing I could have borne such a thing myself, what would have been said of me if I had allowed you to fight in my quan-el? no honourable man would have permitted me to associate with him aftei-wards." " But I don't see that the quarrel was yours at all," returned Oak- lands ; " your share of it was ended when the toast affair came to a conclusion ; the rest of the matter was pui-ely personal between him and myself." '• How can that be, when the origin of it was his doubting, or pretending to doubt, the truth of the anecdote which I related ? " inquired I. " No ; depend upon it, Hany, I have acted rightly, though I bitterly regret now having gone to the party, and so exposed myself to all this. I have always looked upon duelling with the greatest abhoiTence. To run the risk of committing murder (for I can call it by no milder name), when at the very moment in which the crime is consummated you may fall yourself, and thus even the forlorn hope of living to repent be cut off from you, appears to me little short of madness. On one point I am resolved — if I do go out with him, nothing shall induce me to fire at him ; I will not die a murderer, at all events." " Should your life indeed be sacrificed," said Oaklands, and his deep voice trembled with emotion as he spoke, " I will follow this man as the avenger of blood, fix a mortal insult upon him wherever I meet him, and shoot him like a dog, convinced that I shaU perform a righteous act in so doing by ridding the world of such a monster." 148 PRANK FAIRLEGH I saw by his manner that it would be xTseless to attempt to reason with him at that moment — his warm feelinj^s, and the fiery thoiiffh generous impulses of his impetuous nature, had so completely gained possession of him, that he was no longer a reasonable creatiu-e — we therefore walked in silence to my rooms, where we parted ; I declining his offer to remain with me till I should learn the decision of Lawless and his friends, on the plea of wishing to be alone (which was, indeed, a true one), although my chief reason for so doing was to prevent the possibility of Oaklands saying anything in liis present excited state of mind, which, if repeated, might in any way involve him with Wilford. My first act, when I found myself once more alone, was to sit down, and endeavour calmly to review the situation in which I was placed. In the event of their deciding that the affair might be an-anged amicably, my course was cleai- — I had only to avoid Wilford as much as possible during the time I should remain at Cambridge, and if ever I were obliged to be in his company, to treat him with a cool and studied civility, which would leave him no pretext for forcing a quarrel upon me. On the other hand, if they should think it impera- tive upon me to go out with him, then indeed was the prospect a gloomy one. Wilford, whose ruthless disposition was so well known as to have become, as it were, a by-word among the set he mixed vrith, was not a man to be offended with impunity, and as, moreover, I had made up my mind not to retvu-n his fire, the chances were strongly against my escaping with my life. I am no coward ; on the contrary, like most men whose physical energy is imimpaired, I am constitutionally fearless, and in moments of danger and excitement have never found myself wanting ; still, it would be affectation to deny that the prospect of a sudden and violent death, thus imexpectedly forced upon me, impressed my mind with a vague sensation of terror, mingled vdth regret for the past, and soitow for the f utiu-e. To be thus cut off in the bright spi-ing-time of vigorous manhood, when the wann blood of youth dances gladly through the veins, and every pulse throbs with the instinct of high and noble daring — to die with hopes unattained, wishes ungratified, duties unperformed — to leave those we love, without one pai-ting look or word, to struggle on through this cold unsympathizing world alone and unprotected — and, above all, to lose one's life in an act the lawfulness of which was more than question- able — all these things contributed to form a picture, which it required either a very steadfast or an utterly callous heart to enable one to gaze upon without blanching. I thought of the misery I should entail upon my family ; how, instead of fulfilling my father's dying injunctions to take his place, and devote myself to comfort and protect them, I should wound my mother's heart anew, and spread the dark mist of sorrow over the fair prospect of my sister's young existence ; and I cursed my fastidious folly in objecting to the toast, to which, in my self -accusation, I traced all that had afterwards FRANK FAIRLEGH 149 occnrred. Then, with the inconsistency of human nature, I began to speculate upon what would be Clara Saville's feelings, were she to learn that it was to prevent the slightest breath of insult being coupled with her name that I was about to peril, not only my life, but, for aught I knew, my hopes of happiness here and hereafter. As the last awful possibility occurred to me, the burden of my misery became too great for me to bear, and, retiring to the privacy of my own chamber, I flung myself on my knees, and poured forth an earnest prayer for pardon for the past and deliverance for the future. When I again returned to my sitting-room, my mind had nearly recovered its usual tone, and I felt prepai-ed to meet and to go through whatever might be before me with calmness and determination. As I was uncertain how long it might be before Lawless would arrive, I resolved, in order to avoid the hoiTors of suspense, to employ myself, and taking up the mathematical treatise upon which I was engaged and by a -sngorous effort of mind compelling my attention, I read steadily for about half an hour, at the end of which time the soimd of hasty footsteps was heard ascending the stairs, and in another minute the door was flung open, and Lawless and Archer entered the apartment. *• Reading mathematics, as I'm a slightly inebriated Christian ! " exclaimed Archer, taking the book out of my hands ; " well, if that isn't pretty cool for a man who may be going to be shot at six o'clock to-mon-ow morning, for anything he knows to the contrary, I'm no judge of temperatui-e." " Oh 1 bother mathematics," rejoined Lawless, flinging the book which Ai-cher held out to him at a bust of Homer adorning the top of my bookshelves, which it fortunately missed — " Fi-ank, old boy, it's all nght — you're not to have a bullet through your lungs this time — shake hands, old fellow! I'm so glad about it that I've—" " Drunk punch enough to floor any two men of ordinary capacity," interposed Archer. " Of course I have," continued Lawless, " and I consider I've performed a very meritorious act in so doing ; — there was the punch, all the other fellows were gone away, somebody must have drunk it, or that young reprobate Shrimp would have got hold of it ; and I promised the venerable fish-fag his mother to take especial cai-e of his what do you call 'ums — morals, isn't it ? and instil by precept, and — and — " " Example," suggested Archer. " Tes, all that sort of thing," continued Lawless, " a taste for, that is, an unbounded admiration of the sublime and beautiful, as exem- plified under the form of — " " Rum punch, and lashings of it," chimed in Archer ; " but suppose you were to tell Fairlegh all that has passed since he came away, or let me do it for you, whichever you like best." 150 FRANK FAIRLEGH " Oh ! you tell liim by all means ; I like to encourage ingenuous youth ; fire a-way, Archer, my boy ! " Thus urged, Archer informed me that upon my departure there had been a somewhat stormy discussion, in which the events of the evening had been freely canvassed ; and at last they came to the imanimous decision that any man was at liberty to withdraw, if a toast was proposed to which he objected, and that, if the toastmaster preferred giving it up rather than allow him to leave the party, he had a i^erfect right to do so. This being the case, they decided that Wilford, having been in the wrong, ought to confess he had spoken hastily, and that, if he would do so, and would add that he had meant nothing offensive either to me or Oaklands, there the matter might rest. This for a long time he positively refused to do ; at length, finding he could get no one to support him, he said that, as I had owned I was wrong in attempting to pi-event his expressing his opinion, he considered that, in all other respects, I had behaved in a gentlemanly way ; therefore, if he had said anything which implied the contrary, he was %villing to withdraw it. But, in regard to Mr. Oaklands, he considered he had interfered in a very uncalled-for manner; and he could only repeat, if that gentleman felt himself aggrieved by anything he had said, the remedy was in his own hands. As soon as he had spoken he withdrew. The question was again debated, and at length they came to the conclusion that what Wilford had said amounted to an ample apology as far as I was concerned, which I was bound to accept; and that Oaklands, having agreed to consider the quan-el mine, could not take any further notice of it ; therefore the affair was at an end. " Well," said I, as he finished his recital, " I must ever feel grateful to you both for the trouble you have taken on my accoimt, and the kind feeling you have shown towards me thi-oughout. I will not pretend to deny that I am very glad the matter has been amicably arranged, for, circumstanced as I am, with everything depending upon my own exertions, a duel would have been i*uin to me ; but I must say I think the whole business thoroughly unsatisfactory, and it is only my conviction that a duel would make matters worse, instead of mending them, which leads me to agree to the an-angement. I sincerely hope Oaklands will not hear what WiKord said about him, for he is fearfully irritated against him already." " I'll tell you what it is," interrupted Lawless ; " it's my belief that Wilford's behavioiu' to you to-night was only assumed for the sake of provoking Oaklands. Master Stephen hates him as he does the very devil himself, and would like nothing better than to pick a quan-el with him, have him out, and, putting a brace of slugs into him, leave him — " "Quivering on a daisy," said Archer, completing the sentence. " Really I think," he continued, " what Lawless says is very true ; you see Oaklands' careless, nonchalant manner, which is always exactly the same whether he is talking to a beggar or a lord, gives FRANK FAIRLEGH 151 continual offence to "Wilford, who has contrived somehow to exact a sort of deference and respect from all the men with whom he asso- ciates till he actually seems to consider it his ri^ht. Then, Wilford's overbearing manner iiTitates Oaklands ; and so, whenever they have met. the breach has gone on widening, till now they positively hate one another." " How is it you are so intimate with him ? " asked I ; " for nobody- seems really to like him." " Well, hang me if I can tell," replied Lawless ; " but you see he has some good points about him, after all ; for instance, I never saw him out with the hounds yet that he didn't take a good place, aye, and keep it too, however long the run and diflficult the country. I killed the best horse I had in my stables trying to follow him one day in Leicestershire last season ; my horse fell with me going over the last fence, and never rose again. Wilford, and one of the whips, who was merely a feather-weight, were the only men in at the death. I offered him three hundred guineas for the horse he rode, but he only gave me one of his pleasant looks, and said it wasn't for sale." " Tou've seen that jet-black mare he rides now, haven't you, Fairlegh ?" asked Archer. " Yes ; what a magnificent creature it is ! " was my reply. " Did you ever hear how he came by it "i " On my answering in the negative, Archer continued—" Well, I wonder at that, for it was in evei-y body's mouth atl one time: it's worth hearing, if it were but to show the determined character of the man. The mare belonged to Lord Foxington, Lord Sell- borough's eldest son. I believe he gave five hundred guineas for hei*. She was a splendid animal, high-couraged, but temperate. In fact, when you were on her she hadn't a fault, but in the stable she was a perfect devil ; there was only one man who dai-ed go near her, and he had been with her from the time she was a filly : so that when Foxington bought the mare he was forced to hire the groom too. The most difficult thing of all was putting on the bridle ; it was generally half an hour's work before she would let even this groom do it. After dinner one day Foxington began talking about this animal, saying what a bnite she was to handle, and adding what I have just told you, as to the impossibility of putting on the bridle, when Wilford, who was present, made some remark, which showed he did not believe in the impossibility. Upon which Foxington inquired whether he doubted the fact he had just heard ? Wilford replied that he was sure his lordship fully believed in the truth of what he had just stated ; but, for his own pai't, he had so often found impos- sibilities of this nature yield to a little corn-age and determination, that he confessed he was somewhat sceptical. Xow, it so happened that Foxington, soon after he bought the mare, had thought just as Wilford did, and determined that he would put the bridle on. Accordingly he attempted it, and the matter ended by his getting 152 FRANK FAIRLEGH regularly diiven out of the stable by the animal, with a tolerably severe bite in the fleshy pai-t of his shoulder. Wilford's remark, therefore, as may be imagined, rather nettled him ; and he inquired, somewhat tartly, whether Wilford believed he could put the biidle on ? and, if so, whether he were willing to try P Wilford replied, in his usual cool tone, that he had an idea he could do so, but that he had no particular inclination to ti-y, as it would probably be some trouble, and the weather was too hot to render active exertion desirable. At this Foxington laughed derisively, saying that it soimded very like a put-ofE. ' Not at all,' returned "Wilford ; ' and to show you that I never say a thing without being ready to act up to it, I am willing to stake five hundred guineas against the mare her- self that I go up to her and put the bridle on without any assistance, and without a stick or anything whatsoever in my hands.' Foxing- ton accepted the bet gladly, reckoning himself safe to pocket the five hundi'ed guineas. The afEair was to come off the next morning at Foxington's stables at eleven o'clock. His lordship had invited all the men who had been present when the bet was made, to come and witness the event, expecting a complete triumph over Wilford. While they were standing about waiting, Foxington told them of his own attempt, and his conviction, from the experience he had then gained, that the thing could not be done ; and the general opinion was that Wilford, imder the influence of wine, had foolishly boasted of a thing which he would not be able to accomplish, and was certain to lose his money. As the time drew near, and he did not make his appearance, an idea began to gain gi-ound that he meant to shu-k the affair altogether ; and Foxington was becoming exceedingly irate, when, just as the clock was on the stroke of eleven, the sound of a horse's feet was heard, and Wilford cantered quietly up, looking as if he felt no personal interest whatever in the event. On his arrival they proceeded at once to the stable in which the mare stood. She was kept in a loose box, with her clothes on. but her head entirely free." "I ought, by-the-bye," said Archer, interrupting himself, " to have told you that I had the account from a man who was there at the time, and saw the whole thing." " Well, as soon as they went into the stable, the mare left off feed- ing, and tm-ning round so as to face them, stood with her ears pricked up, gazing wildly at them. Wilford just glanced at her and then leisurely divested himself of his coat, waistcoat and neckcloth, turned up the wi-istbands of his shirt, and taking the bridle from the groom, announced that he was ready. As soon as the door was open, Wilford fixed his eyes stenily on the mare, and walked towards her. To the surprise of everyone the animal allowed him to approach quietly and pat her, without showing any symptoms of vice. Men began to exchange inquiring glances with each other, and those who had betted heavily against him trembled for their money; but Foxington, who was better acquainted with the animal, exclaimed. FRANK FAIRLEGH 15a ' "Wait a minute ; he has not tried to touch her head yet.' Wilford now moved his hand forward along the neck, patting her, and speak- ing soothingly to her as he advanced ; but as he approached the head, she became impatient and fidgety, and when he attempted to take hold of the ear in order to put on the bridle, she flung up her head, reared, and ran back a few steps, where she stood, shaking her mane and pawing the ground. After remaining in this position a few seconds, she suddenly laid back her ears, and, showing the whites of her eyes, ran at Wilford with her mouth wide open, and as soon as she got within distance made a ferocious bite at him. By spring- ing on one side with gi-eat agility he just contrived to avoid it ; then, dropping the bridle, he threw himself into a span-ing attitude (you know he's a capital boxer), and, as the mare again ran at him, hit out, and striking her just on a particidar spot by the ear, brought her down like a bullock. As soon as she recovered her legs she renewed the attack, and Wilford received her as before, delivering his blow with the same coolness and precision. When the animal rose the second time she seemed pai'tially stunned, and stood for a moment with her head hanging down and her ears drooping ; but on Wilford's making a step towards her she again plunged forward, and attempted to seize him with her teeth. Once more did WiKord evade her bite by springing on one side, and seizing his opportiinity,. succeeded in planting his hit, and, for the third time, felled her to the ground. When she again rose, however, she showed no dis- position to renew the attack, but stood trembling violently, with the perspiration inmning down her sides. She now allowed Wilford to approach her, to stroke her head, pull her ears, and finally to put the bridle on, and lead her out, completely conquered ; and so my Lord Foxington lost the best hoi'se in his stables, and Wilford gained his bet, and added to his character for invincibility, which, by the way, he cared about much the most." "It was a bold deed," retunied I, as Archer concluded his story,. " but one does not like a man the better for having done it ; there seems to me a degree of wanton cruelty in punishing an animal so severely, unless he had been actually forced to do it. Public executioners may be necessli-y for the prevention of crime ; but that is no reason why one need volunteer as an amateur hangman." '■ Evei-ybody thought it an uncommonly plucky thing at the time,, and there was an immense fuss made with him afterwards," replied Ai'cher. " Why, Lawless, are you asleep ? rouse up, man — to bed — to bed. Good-night, Fairlegh, you'll sleep all the better for knowing you are not to be shot at cock-crow." So saying, he took Lawless by the arm and marched him off,, though, it must be confessed, his gait, as he descended the stairs, was somewhat unsteady. 154 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XXIII. WHAT HARRY AND I FOUND WHEN WE LOST OUR WAY. " It is too true an evil— gone she is. " Unhappy girl ! Ah ! who would be a father ? " " Far in the lane a lonely hut he found, Ko tenant ventured on th' unwholesome ground, Here smnkes his forpe : he bares his sinewy arm. And early strokes the soundin^r anvil warm; Around bis shop the steely simrkles rtew. As for the steed he shaped the bencUng shoe." Qay'i Trivia, " Be who thou wilt . . . thou art in no danger from me, so thou tell me the meamng of this practice, and why thou drivest thy trade in this mysterious fashion — " " Your horse is shod, and your fanier paid — what need you cumber youTflelf further, than to mount and pursue your journey ? " — Kenilicorth. On the afternoon of the day after Lawless's wine party, Oaklands and I were walking dowu to the stables where his horses were kept (he ihaving, in pursuance of his plan for preventing my ovei'-reading myself, jbeguiled me into a promise to ride with him), when we encountered Archer. " I suppose you have heard the news ' par escellence,' " said he, after we had shaken hands. " No," replied I, " what may it happen to be P " " Only that Lizzie Maurice, the pastrycook's daughter, disappeared last night, and old Maurice is going about like a distracted creature this morning, and can't leara any tidings of her." " What, that pretty girl with long ringlets who used to stand behind the counter ? " asked I. " What is supposed to have become of her P" " Tes, that is the identical young lady," returned Archer. " All that seems to be known abotit her is, that she waited till her father went out to smoke his pipe, as he usually does for an hour or so every evening, and then got the ui-chin who iims of eiTands to carry a bxmdle for her, and set out without saying a word to anyone. After she had proceeded a little way, she was met by a man muffled up in a cloak, who took the bundle from the boy, threw him a shilling, and told him to go home dii-ectly. Instead of doing so, however, he let them proceed for a minute or two, and then followed them. They went at a quick pace along one or two streets, and at length turned down a lane, not far from the bottom of which a gig was waiting. Another man, also miiffled up, was seated in the gig, into which the girl was handed by her companion, who said to the second man in a low tone, ' All has gone well, and without attracting notice.' He then added in a warning voice : ' Remember, honour bright, no nonsense, or — ' and here he sunk his voice bo that the boy could not catch what he said ; but the other replied, ' On my word, on my honom' ! ' They then shook hands ; the second man gathered FRANK FAIRLEGH 155 up the reins, drew the whip across the horse, which sprang forward at speed, and they were out of sight in a moment. The person who was left gazed after them for a minute or so, and then, turning briskly on his heel, walked away without perceiving the boy, who stood under the shadow of a doorway. On being qiiestioned as to what the men were like, he said that the first kept his face entirely concealed, but he was rather tall, and had black hair ; the second was a stout man, with light hair and a high colour — for a dark lantern which he had in the gig with him happened to thi'ow its light on his face as he was lighting it." " At what time in the evening did all this take place ? " inquired Oaklands. " Between nine and ten," replied Archer. Oaklands and I exchanged glances ; the same idea had evidently struck us both. " Has anyone seen Wilford this morning ? " asked Oaklands. " Seen him ! " returned Ai-cher ; " yes, to be sui-e, he and Wentworth have been parading about arm-in-arm all over the town : they were with me when I met poor old Maurice, and asked him all sorts of questions about the affair. Wilford seemed quite interested for him." " Strange ! " observed Oaklands, musing. " I don't make it out. I would not willingly wrong, even in thought, an innocent man. Archer," he continued, "you have a shrewd keen wit and sound judgment ; tell me in confidence, man, who do you think has done this ? " " Nay, I am no diviner to guess other men's secrets," replied Archer ; " and these are subjects about which it is not over-safe to hazard conjectures. I have told you all I can learn about it, and it is for you to draw your own conclusions. It is no use repeating things to you of which you are already aware ; I might as well tell you dogs bark and cats mew — that Wilford has black hair, and Wentworth is a stout man with a high colour — or any other well- known ti-uism. But I am detaining you— good-morning." So saying, lie shook hands with us and left us. After walking some distance in silence, Oaklands exclaimed abruptly, " It must be so ! it is Wilford who h^-s done this thing — you think as I do, do you not, Fi-ank ? " " I am sure we have not evidence enough to prove it," replied I; " but I confess I am inclined, as a mere matter of opinion, to agree with you, though there are difficulties in the way for which it is not easy to account. For instance, why should Wilford have gone to that party last night and have incurred the risk of entrusting the execution of his schemes to another, instead of remaining to carry them out himself ? " " That is true," said Oaklands thoughtfully ; " I do not pretend to ■understand it all clearly ; but, somehow, I feel a conviction that AVilford is at the bottom of it." " Tou should recollect, Harry, that you greatly dislike this man — 150 FRANK FAIRLEGH are, as I conceive, prejudiced aprainst liim— and are. therefore, of course, disposed to judge him harshly." " Yes, I know all that ; still, you'll see it will come out sooner or later, that Wilf ord is the man. Her poor old father ! I have often observ-ed how he appeared to dote upon that pirl, and how proud he was of her : his pride will be converted into mourning now. It is fearful to think," continued Oaklands. "of what crimes men are guilty in their reckless selfishness ! Here is the fair promise of an innocent girl's life blighted, and an old man's gi-ay hairs brought down with sorrow to the grave, in order to gratify the passing fancy of a heartless libertine." He paused, and then continued, " I suppose one can do nothing in the matter, having no stronger grounds than mere suspicion to go upon ? " " I should say nothing likely to l)e of the slightest l>enefit." replied I. " Then the sooner we get to horse the better," returned Oaklands ; " hearing of a thing of this kind always annoys me, and I feel disposed to hate my species : a good gallop may shake me into a better humoui*." " And the ' dolce-far-niente ' ? " I inquired. •' Oh ! don't imagine me inconsistent," was the reply. " Only some- how just at present, in fact ever since the breeze last night, I've found it more trouble to remain quiet than to exert myself ; so. if you would not tire me to death, walk a little faster, there's a good fellow." After a brisk ride of nearly two hours along cross-roads, we came out upon a wnld heath or common of considerable extent. " Here's a famous place for a gallop ! " exclaimed Oaklands ; '" I never can make up my mind which is the fastest of these two horses ; let's have a race and tiy their speed. Do you see that tall poplar tree which seems poking its top into the sky on the other side the common ? that shall be the winning-post. Now, are you ready ? " " All right, go ahead," replied I, bending forward and giving my horse the rein. Away we went men-ily, the high-couraged animals bounding beneath us, and the fresh air whistUng round our ears as we seemed to cut our way through it. For some time we kept side by side. The horse Oaklands rode was, if anything, a finer, certainly a more powerful animal than the one on which I was mounted ; but this advantage was fully compensated by the fact of his riding nearly a stone heavier than I did. We were, therefore, on the whole, very fairly matched. After riding at speed, as near as I could reckon, about two miles, Oaklands, to his great delight, had gained nearly a horse's length in advance of me — a space which it seemed beyond my powers of jockeyship to recover. Between us, however, and the tree he had fixed on as our goal, lay a small brook or watercourse, near the banks of which the ground became soft and marshy. In crossing this, the greater weight of man and horse told against Oaklands, and gradually I began to creep up to him. As we neared the brook, it struck me that his horse appeared to laboui* heavily through the stiff FRANK PAIRLEGH 157 clay. Now or never, then, was my opport\uiity ; and shouting gaily, " Over first, for a sovereign — good-bye, Harry," I gave my horse the spur, and putting him well at it, cleared the brook splendidly, and alighted safely on the farther bank. Determined, if possible, not to be outdone. Hairy selected a point, by crossing at which he could contrive to cut off a comer, and thus gain upon me considerably. In order to accomplish this, it was necessary for him to take his leap at a spot where the brook was some feet wider than ordinary. Relying, however, on the known good qualities of the animal he rode, he resolved to attempt it. Settling himself firmly in his saddle, he got his horse well together, and then throwing up his whip-hand, and (as Lawless would have tei-med it) " sticking in the persuaders," he charged the brook at speed. It was a well-imagined and bold attempt, and had his horse been fresher, would have succeeded in winning the race ; but we had kept up a fair pace during the whole of our ride, and now oxir gaDop across the common, and more particularly the severe pace over the marshy gi-ound, had tried his horse's wind considerably. StiU, how- ever, the noble animal strove to the utmost of its power, to answer the call made upon it, and by a vigorous effort succeeded in clearing the brook ; but the grovmd on the other side was rugged and broken, and, apparently exhausted by the exertion he had made, he stumbled, and after a slight struggle to preserve his footing fell heavily for- ward, pitching Han-y over his head as he did so. Fortunately the ground was soft and clayey, and neither man nor horse seemed to have sxistained any injury, for I had scarcely time to draw rein ere they were on their legs again, and as Han-y's first act was to spring lightly into the saddle, I determined to secure the race at once ; and cantering up to the poplar-tree, which was now within a hundred yards of me, I snapped off a bough in token of victory. As I turned back again I observed that Hairy had dis- mounted and was examining his horse's foot. " Nothing wrong, is there ? " asked I, as I rejoined him. " Yes, everything's wrong," was the reply ; " you've been and gone and won the race, you villain, you — I've tiunbled nose and knees into a mud-hole, and spoiled my white cord oh-no-we-never-mention-ums — and the ' Cid ' has wrenched off one of his front shoes in the skrimmage." " And that's the worst of all the misfortimes," said I, " for here we are some ten or twelve miles from Cambridge at least, in a region utterly imkno^m, and apparently devoid of inhabitants ; so where we are to find a smith passes my poor skill to discover." "You're wrong about the inhabitants, I flatter myself," replied Harry. " Do you see the faint white mist curling above those trees to the right ? I take that to be smoke ; where there's smoke there must be fire ; fire must have been kindled by some human being or other — through that individual we will endeavour to obtain an intro- 158 FRANK FAIRLEGH duction to some blacksmith, conjointly with sufficient topographical information to enable us to reach our destination in time for a certain meal called dinner, -which has acquired an unusual degree of impor- tance in my eyes within the last hour or so. I have spoken ! " " Like a book," replied I ; " and the next thing is to bring your sapient deductions to the test of experiment. There is a cart track here which appeal's to lead towards the smoke you observed ; let us try that." So saying, I also dismounted, and thi-owing my horse's bridle over my arm, we proceeded together on foot in the direction Oaklands had indicated. Ten minutes' walking brought us into a rough country lane, widen- ing picturesquely between high banks and green hedges, affording an agreeable contrast to the flat, unenclosed tracts of corn-laud so general throughout Cambridgeshire. After following this lane about a quarter of a mile, we came upon a small, retired ale-house, sur- rounded by trees. As we approached the door, a stout, vulgar- looking woman, di-essed in rather tawdry finery, ran out to meet us ; on coming nearer, however, she stopped short as if surprised, and then re-entered the house as quickly as she had left it, calling to someone within as she did so. After waiting for a minute or two she came back, accompanied by a tall disagreeable-looking man in a velveteen shooting- jacket, with a remarkably dirty face, and hands to match. " Is there a blacksmith living anywhere near here, my good man ? " inquired Oaklands. " Mayhap there is," was the reply in a surly tone. " Can you dii'ect us how to find him ? " continued Oaklands. " What might you want with him when you've found him ? " was the rejoinder. " My horse has cast a shoe, and I want one put on immediately," replied Oaklands, who was getting impatient at the man's unsatis- factory, not to say insolent manner. " Mayhap you won't get it done in quite such a huiTy as yoii seems to expect ! There's a blacksmith lives at Stoney End, about five miles farther on. Go straight up the lane for about three miles, then turn to the right, then twice to the left, and then you'll see a finger- post that ain't got nothing on it — when you come to that — " " Which I never shall do, depend upon it," replied Oaklands. " My good man, you don't imagine I'm going to fatigue myself and lame my horse by walking five miles up this unlucky lane, do you ? If things really are as bad as you would make them out to be, I shall despatch a messenger to summon the smith, and employ myself in the meanwhile in tasting your ale, and consuming whatever you may happen to have in the house fit to eat." I observed that the landlord and his wife, as I presumed her to be,, exchanged very blank looks when Oaklands announced this deter- mination. When he ceased speaking, she whispered a few words into the ear of the man, who gave a kind of surly gnmt in reply, and FRANK FAIRLEGH 159 then, turning to Hai-ry, said, " Mayhap I'll shoe your horse for you myself if you'll make it worth while." " Tou will ? why, I thoucrht you said there was not a smith within five miles ? " " No more there ain't, only me." " And you've been won-ying me, and tiring my patience all this time, merely to secure yourself a better bargain ? Oh, the needless trouble people give themselves in ^this world ! Shoe the horse, man, and make your own charge ; be sure I'll not complain of it, only be quick," replied Oaklands. " P'raps that wom't aU," returned the fellow gruffly ; " but if ye be in such a mighty hurry, bring 'un along here, and I'll clap a shoe on 'un for ye in a twinkling." So saying, he led the way through an old gate, and down a stable- yard, behind the public-house, at the bottom of which, under a kind of half-bani, half-shed, was a blacksmith's shop, fitted up with a forge, and other appliances for shoeing. Our conductor (who ha\ang divested himself of the velveteen jacket, which he replaced with a leather apron, seemed now much more in his proper element) displayed greater quickness and skill in making and applying the shoe, than from his previous conduct I should have anticipated ; and I began to flatter myself that our difficulties were in a fair way to be overcome. I was drawing up the girths of my horse's saddle, which had become somewhat loosened from our gallop, when Oaklands, who had been sitting on a gate near, industi-iously flogging his boot with his riding- whip, jumped down, saying, "If you'll keep an eye to the horses. Frank, I'll go and see if I can get some of the worst of this mud brushed off." " Better stay where you are ! I shall a' done direc'ly," observed the smith ; " you ain't wanted at ther house, I tell yer." " You should stick to your original trade, for your manners as an innkeeper are certainly not calculated to fascinate customers, my friend," replied Oaklands, walking towards the house. The man muttered an oath as he looked after him, and then applied himself to his work with redoubled energy. About ten minutes had elapsed, the shoe was made, fitted to the hoof, and the pi-ocess of nailing on nearly concluded, but still Oaklands did not return. I was tying my horse's rein up to a hook in the waU, with the intention of seeking him, when I heard the noise of wheels in the lane, followed immediately by the clatter of a horse's feet, ridden at speed — both sounds at the moment ceased, as if the parties had stopped at the inn-door. The blacksmith also heard them, and appeared for a moment uncertain whether to continue his work or not ; then, utter- ing an impatient exclamation, he began twisting off and clenching the points of the nails as though his life depended on his haste. Perceiving that Oaklands' horse would be ready for him to mount directly, I turned to imfasten my own, when the sound Qf men's voices raised high in angiy debate became audible, then a confused 160 FRANK FAIRLEGH noise as of blows and BCuflBing ensued, mingled with the screams of women ; and immediately the blacksmith's wife ran out, calling to her husband to hasten in, for that " they had come back and quarrelled with the strange gentleman, and now they were fighting, and there would be murder done in the house." Without waiting to hear more, I ran hastily up the yard, followed by the blacksmith and the woman. On reaching the front of the house, I perceived waiting at the door, a gig, in which was seated a man di-essed in a suit of rusty black, while under the shade of the ti'ees, a boy was leading up and down a magnificent black mare, which I instantly recognized as the identical animal Wilford had become possessed of in the manner Archer had related to me. The sounds of blows and struggling still continued, and proceeded, as I now ascertained, from the parlour of the ale-house. As the readiest method of reaching the scene of action, I flung open the window, which was not far from the ground, and without a moment's hesita- tion leaped into the room. CHAPTER XXIV. HOW OAKLANDSlBBOKE HIS HORSEWHIP. " Away to heav'n, respective lenity. And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now." " Use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?" " He swore that he did hold me dear As precious eyesight, and did value me Above this world, adding thereto moreover That he would wed me." " Men's vows are women's traitors." % " To promise is most courtly and fashionable ; performance is a kind of will or testa- ment which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it." — Shaketpeare. The sight which met my eyes as I gazed around was one which time can never efface from my memory. In the centre of the room, his brow darkened by the flush of concentrated indignation, stood Oaklands, his left hand clenching tightly the coat-collar of a man, whom I at once perceived to be Wilford, while with his right hand he was administering such a horsewhipping as I hope never again to see a human being subjected to. Wilford, who actually wi-ithed with mingled pain and fury, was making violent but ineffectual struggles to free himself. Near the door stood Wentwoi-th, the blood di-ipping from his nose, and his clothes dusty and disorderly, as if from a fall. Crouching in a corner at the farther end of the room, the tears coiu'sing down her fear-blanched cheeks, and her hands clasped in an agony of teiTor and despair, was a girl, about nineteen years of age, whom I had little diflB.culty in recognizing as Lizzie Maurice, the /■c^ FRANK FAIRLEGH 161 daughter of the old confectioner, of whose elopement we had been that morning informed. On perceiving me she sprang forward, and clasping my knees, implored me to interfere and endeavoui' to separate them. I was not, however, called upon to do so, for, as she spoke, his riding whip broke short in Oaklands' hand, and dashing down the fragments with an exclamation of impatience, he flung Wilf ord from him with so much force that he staggered forward a few paces, and would have fallen, had not Wentworth caught him in his arms just in time to prevent it. Oaklands then turned to the girl, whom I had raised from the gi-ound and placed on a chair, and addressing her in a stem, impres- sive manner, said, " I will now resume what I was saying to you when yonder beaten hound dared to lay hands upon me. For the last time the choice is offered to you — either return home, and endeavour, by devoting yourself to your broken-hearted old father, to atone as best you may for the misery .you have caused him ; or, by remaining here, commence a life of infamy which wiU end sooner or later in a miserable death." He paused ; then, as she made no!reply, but sat with her face buried in her hands, sobbing as if her heart would break, he continued, " You tell me, the vile tempter who has lured you from your duty, promised to meet you here to-day, and, bringing a clergyman with him, to marry you privately ; now if this is the truth — " " It is ! it is ! " she faltered. " If so," resumed Oaklands, " a knowledge of the real facts of the case may yet save you. This scoundrel who has proposed to marry you, and who belongs to a rank immeasurably above your own, is already notorious for what are termed, by such as himself, affairs of gallantry ; while the wi-etched impostor whom he has brought with him to act the part of clergyman, is the marker at a low billiard-table, and no more a clergyman than I am." •' Is this really so ? " exclaimed the girl, raising her eyes, which were swollen and red with weeping, to Wilford's face ; " would you have deceived me thus. Stephen — you, whom I have trusted so im- plicitly ? "' Wilf ord, who, since the severe discipline he had undergone, had remained seated, with his head resting on his hand, as if in pain, apparently unconscious of what was going on, glared at her ferociously with his flashing eyes, but made no reply. The girl waited for a minute ; but, obtaining no answer, turned away with a half -shudder, murmuring, " Deceived, deceived ! " then addressing Oaklands, she said. •' I will go home to my father, sir ; and if he will not forgive me. I can but lie down and die at his feet— better so than live on, to trust and be deceived again." " You have decided rightly, and will not repent it," remarked Oak- lands in a milder tone of voice ; then, turning to the blacksmith (who had made his appearance, accompanied by his wife, the moment the affray had ended), he continued : " You must procure some con- veyance immediately to take this young person back to Cambridge, - u 162 FRANK FAIRLEGH an'l your wife must accompany her." Obeervinp that the man hesitated, and cast an intlairin^,' phince towards Wilford, he added sternly, " If you would not be compelled to answer for the share you have taken in this rascally business before the proper authorities, do as I have told you without loss of time." The man having again failed in an attempt to attract Wilford's attention, asked in a surly tone if a spring-cart would do, and, being answered in the affinnative, left the room. Lizzie Maurice withdrew to prepare for. her return home, the woman accompanied her; Oaklands strode to the window, and remained watching the operation of harnessing the horse to the tax- cart. Wilford still retained the same attitude, and neither spoke nor moved. Wentworth having glanced towards him once or t\vice, as if to divine his wishes, receiving no sign, lit a cigar, and leaning his "back against the chimney-piece, l>egan to smoke furiously, whilst I devoted myself to the pages of an oljj sporting magazine. Thus passed five minutes, which seeemed as if they would never come to an end, at the expiration of which time the tax-cart, driven by a stout country lad, drew up to the door, and the two women making their appearance at the same moment, Oaklands tm-ned to leave the room. As he did so, Wilford, for the first time, raised his head, thereby disclosing a countenance which, pale as death, was charac- terized by an expression of such intense malignity, as one might conceive would be discernible in that of a corpse reanimated by some evil spirit. After regarding Oaklands fixedly for a moment, he said, in a low grating tone of voice, " You have foiled me once and again — when nest we meet it will be anr turn ! " Oaklands merely smiled contemptuously, and quitted the house. Having moimted our horses, we ordered the lad who di*ove the spring-cart to proceed at his fastest pace, while we followed at a sufficient distance to keep it in sight, so as to guard against any attempt which might be made by Wilford to repossess himself of his victim, without positively identifying ourselves with the party it contained. We rode in silence for the first two or three miles ; at length I could refrain no longer, and, half uttering my thoughts aloud, half addressing my companion, I exclaimed, "Oh, HaiTy, Han-y, what is all this that you have done ? " " Done ! " replied Oaklands, vdth a heightened colour and flashing eyes: "rescued an innocent gu-1 from a villain who would have "betrayed her, and punished the scoundrel about half so severely as he desem^ed ; but that was my misfortune, not my fault. Had not the whip broken — " " Tou know that is not what I mean," returned I ; " but this man will challenge you, will — you are aware of his accursed skill — will murder you. Oh ! that fiendish look of his as you left the room — it will haunt me to my dying day." " And would you have had me leave the poor gu-1 to her fate from a coward fear of personal danger ? Tou are strangely altered since FRANK FAIRLEGH 168 you defied a room fuD of men last night rather than allow Clara Saville's name to be uttered by their profane lips ; or, which is nearer the truth," he continued with a kind smile, " your affection for me blinds you." " Not so, Harry," replied I ; " but it is the recollection of my o^vn feelings, when, while waiting for Lawless's report last night, I believed I shoidd be forced to meet this "Wilford — it is the misery, the self-reproach, the bitter penitence of that moment, when for the first time I was able to reflect on the feai-f ul situation in which by my own i-ashness I had placed myself, a situation in which crime seemed forced upon me, and it appeared impossible to act rightly — it is the remembrance of all these things which causes me to lament that you, my more than brother, should have involved yourself in similar difficulties." " But, Frank — " he began, then, interrupting himself, he seized my hand, and pressing it warmly between his own, exclaimed, " My dear old fellow, forgive me if I have spoken unkindly to you ; but this man has maddened me, I believe." He paused, and then continued in a calmer voice, " Let me tell you how it occurred, and you will see I could scai'cely have acted otherwise than I have done. You know I went into the public-house to bi-ush off the mud after my tumble. The instant my step soimded in the passage, a girl tripijed lightly down the stairs and ran towards me, exclaiming joyfully, ' You have come at last, then ! ' On finding that it was not the person she expected, she stopped in alarm, and I perceived to my astonishment that it was Lizzie Maurice. She recognized me at the same moment, and apparently a new idea struck her, for she again approached me, saying, ' Mr. Oaklands, teU me, sir, for heaven's sake, has anything happened to Wilford ? ' Then, with woman's tact, perceiving her mistake, she blushed deeply, adding in a timid voice, ' I fancied you might have been riding with that gentleman ; and seeing you alone, I was afraid some accident might have befallen your companion.' All this convinced me that my suspicions had not been misplaced ; and the thought occmTcd to me that possibly it might not yet be too late to endeavour to restore her to her father, while the recollec- tion of Ai-cher's account of the old man's distress determined me to make the attempt. •■ Taking her, therefore, by the hand, I led her into the parlour, and, begging her to listen to me for five minutes, told her I was aware of her elopement, and entreated her to return home again, adding that her father was broken-hearted at her loss. She shed tears when I mentioned the old man's grief, but positively refused to return home. " Finding persuasion to be of no avail, I thought I would appeal to her fears : so I informed her that I was aware of the name of the villain who had enticed her away ; that I would seek him out and expose him, and that I should instantly acquaint her father with her place of refuge, and advise him to come provided with proper powers 164 FRANK FAIRLEGH to reclaim her. This produced more effect, and. after some hesita- tion, she told me proudly that I bad done her foul wron^ by my doubts ; that Mr. Wilford meant to make her his lawful wife ; but that, in order to prevent his preat relations hearinj^of it till he could break it to them cautiously, it was advisable to keep the affair quiet —(the old story, in short, private man-iage and all the rest of it)— a friend of Wilford's, therefore, to avoid excitinj? suspicion, had kindly driven her over there the nierht before, and she was now expecting? her lover to come, and brin^ a cleriaryman with him, who would mairy them by licence on the spot ; when she heard my step she thought they had arrived. The air of truth with which she told her tale carried conviction with it. " I was about to represent to her the improbability of "Wilford's intentions being as honourable as she fondly imagined them, when a gig drove up to the door containing "Wentworth and a fellow whom I recognized as one of the billiard-markers in Street, dressed in a seedy suit of black for the occasion ; immediately afterwards "Wilford arrived on horseback. The whole thing was now perfectly clear. "Wilford, having made the girl l>elieve he intended to marry her. i)er- suaded Wentworth, who is completely his tool, to can-y her off for him ; after which he went to Lawless's wine-party, in order to show himself and thereby avert suspicion. He then bribed the billiard- marker to play parson, got Wentworth to bring him, and going out as if merely for a ride, had joined them here. I was considei-ing ■what would be the best com-se to pursue, and was just coming out to consult you, when the door was flung open, and Wilford and Went- worth entered hastily. The moment Wilford's eyes fell upon me he started as if a serpent had stung him, and his brow became black as night. " Advancing a step or two towards me, he inquired, in a voice hoarse with rage, what I was doing there. I replied, ' Endeavouring to prevent some of your evil designs from succeeding.' He tried to answer me, but his utterance was literally choked by passion ; and turning away, he strode up and down the room, gnashing and ginnd- ing his teeth like a maniac. Having in some degree recovered his self-control, he again approached me, drew himself up to his full height, and, pointing to the door, desired me to leave the room. " I replied I should not do so until I had given the young lady a piece of information respecting the character of one of the party — and I pointed to the billiard-marker, who had not yet alighted — I shovdd then, I added, learn from her own lips whether she still ■wished to remain there, or would take my ad^-ice, and return to her father. " Again Wilford ground his teeth ■with rage, and desired me. in a voice of thimder, to ' leave the room instantly ' ; to ■which I replied flatly that I would not. " He then made a sign to Wentworth, and they both approached me, ■with the intention of foi'cing me out. Feai-ing that their com- FRANK FAIRLEGH 165 bined efforts might overpower me (for Wentworth, though short, is a broad-shouldered, strong man, and Wilford's muscles are like iron), I avoided their grasp by stepping backwards, and hitting out with my right hand as I did so, caught Wentworth full on the nose, tapping his claret for him as the pugilists call it, and sending him down like a shot. At the same moment Wilford sprang upon me with a bound like a tiger, and seizing me by the throat, a short but severe struggle took place between us. I was too strong for him, however ; and finding this, he would gladly have ceased hostilities and quitted me, kindly postponing my annihilation till some futiire day, when it could be more conveniently accomplished by means of a pistol-bullet. But as you may imagine, my blood was pretty well up by this time, and I determined he should not get off quite so easily. Seizing, therefore, my whip in one hand, I detained him without much trouble with the other — his strength being thoroughly exhausted by his previous exertions — and administered such a thrashing as will keep him out of mischief for a week to come, at all events. It was while this was going on that you made your appearance, I think ; so now you are ' au fait ' to the whole affaii* — and. pray, what else could I possibly have done under the circumstances ? " " It is not easy to say," replied I. ** I think the horse-whipping might have been omitted, though I suppose the result would have been the same at all events, and it certainly was a gi-eat temptation. The brightest side of the business is your having saved the poor girl, who I really believe is more to be x>itied than blamed, having only followed the dictates of her woman's nature, by allowing her feelings to overrule her judgment." " You have used exactly the right expression there," said Oaklands, " in such cases as the present, it is not that the woman is weak enough to be gulled by every plausible tale which may be told her, but that she has such entire confidence, such pure and child-like faith in the man she loves, that she will believe anything rather than admit the possibility of his deceiving her." '■ The deeper villain he who can betray such simple trust," replied I. '■ Villain, indeed ! " returned Oaklands. " I would not have been in Wilford's place, to have witnessed that girl's look when the con- viction of his baseness was forced upon her, for worlds ; it was not a look of anger nor of soitow, but it seemed as if the blow had literally cnished her heart within her — as if the brightness of her young spii-it had fled for ever, and that to live would only be to prolong the duration of her misery. No ; I would rather have faced death in its most horrible form than have met that look, knowing that my own treachery had called it forth." We rode for some little distance in silence. At length I inquired how he meant to aiTange for Lizzie Maiu-ice's return to her home, as it would not do for us, unless he wished the pai-t we had taken in the affair to be known all over Cambridge, to escort her to her 166 FRANK FAIRLEGH father's door, in the order of procession in which we were then advancing. " No, I was just thinking of that," replied Oaklands. " It appears to me that the quietest way of managing the affair will l)e, to pay the boy for the cart and horse at once, telling him to set Lizzie Maurice down within a shoi't distance of her father's shop, and then to drive back with the woman. Lizzie can proceed on foot, and will probably at this time of the evening " (it was nearly seven o'clock) " be able to enter the house without attracting attention : we will, however, keep her in sight so as to be at hand to render her assist- ance, should she require it. I do not myself feel the slightest doubt but that her father will believe her tale, and treat her kindly. I shall, however, leave her my direction, and should she require my testimony in support of her veracity, or should the old man be unwilling to receive her, she must inform me of it, and I will call upon him, and try to bring him to reason." " That -vvill not be necessary, depend upon it," returned I ; "he will only be too glad to recover her." " So I think," replied Oaklands. " What course shall you take with regard to Wilford P " inquired I. "I shall never mention the afEair to anyone, if he does not." answered Oaklands ; " neither shall I take any step whatever in the matter. I am perfectly satisfied with the position in which I stand at present, and if he should not enjoy an equal share of contentment, it is for him to declare it — the next move must be his, and it will be time enough for me to decide how to act when we see what it may be. I shall now tell Lizzie Maurice of my plan for her, and inform her that as long as I hear she is living quietly at home, and leading a respectable life, my lips will be sealed with regard to the occmTences of to-day." So saying, he put his horse into a canter, and riding up to the side of the cart, conversed with the girl in a low tone of voice for several minutes ; then, drawing out his purse, handed some money to the driver, and rejoined me. " She is extremely grateful to me for my promise of silence," he commenced ; " seems very penitent for her fault, and declares that this is a lesson she shall never forget. She agrees to my plan of walking, and tells me there is a side-door to the house, by which she can enter unobserved. She promises to confess eveiT^thing to her father, and hopes to obtain his forgiveness ; and appears altogether in ' a vei*y proper frame of mind,' as the good books say." " Long may she remain so ! " returned I ; " and now I am happy to say there are some of the towers of Cambridge visible, for, like you, I am becoming fearfully hungiy." " And for the first time during the last twenty-four hom-s I am actually beginning to feel as tired as a dog," rejoined Harry, shrugging his shoulders with an air of intense satisfaction. PRANK FAIRLEGH 167 CHAPTER XXY. THE CHALLENGE. " Patience perforce with wilful choler meetine, Makes my flesh tremble in their difierent greeting. I will withdraw ; but this intrusion shall, Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall." " More matter for a May morning." " Here's the challenge, read it." " If this letter move him not, his legs cannot." " O ominoos ! he comes to kill mj heart." ShaJcetpeare. Old Maurice, the pastrycook, had welcomed his daughter gladly, as one returned from the grave, and had learned from her own lip3, with mingled tears of joy and gratitude, how, thanks to noble Harry Oaklands. she had escaped unscathed from the perils and temi^ta- tions to which she had been exposed ; many days had elapsed, the Long Vacation had commenced, and the ancient toynx of Cambridge, no longer animated by the countless throngs of gownsmen, frowned in its unaccustomed solitude, like some City of the Dead, and still no hostile message came from "Wilford. Various reports were circulated concerning the reappearance of Lizzie Maurice : but none of them bore the faintest resemblance to the truth, and to no one had the possibility of Oaklands' interference in the matter occurred, save, as it afteiTvards appeared, to Charles Archer. For above a week "Wilford was confined to his room, seeing only "Wentworth ; and it was given out that he had met with a severe fall from his horse, and was ordered to keep perfectly quiet. At the expiration of that period he quitted Cambridge suddenly, leaving no clue to his whereabouts. This strange conduct scarcely excited any surprise amongst the set he moved in, as it was usually his habit to shroud all his proceedings under a veil of secrecy, assumed, as some imagined, for the purpose of enhancing the mysterious and un- accountable influence he delighted to exercise over the minds of men. Oaklands remained a few days at Cambridge after Wilford's departure, as he said, to pack up, but, as I felt certain, to prevent the possibility of "Wilford's imagining that he was anxious in any way to avoid him. Finding at length that his rooms were dismantled, and that he would not in all probability return till the end of the Long Vacation, Harry ceased to trouble his head any further about the matter, and we set off for Heathfield, accompanied by Archer, whom Harry had invited to pay him a visit. "We found all well at our respective homes ; my mother appeared much stronger, and was actually growing quite stout, for her ; and XG8 FRANK FAIRLEGH Fanny looked so pretty, that I was not sxirprised at the very particular attentions paid her from the first moment of his introduc- tion by the volatile Archer (who, by the way, was a regular male flirt), attentions which I was pleased to perceive she appreciated exactly at their proper value. We soon fell into our old habits atrain, Oaklands and Archer setting out after breakfast for a stroll, or on a fishing expedition, which usually ended in Harry's coming to an anchor under some spreading oak or beech, where he remained, "doing a bit of the ;dolce," as Archer called it. till luncheon-time; whilst I, who could not afford to }.>e idle, read hai-d till about three o'clock and then joined in whatever amusement was the order of the day. " Frank, may I come in ? " exclaimed Fanny's silvery voice outside my study door, one morning during my working hours, when I had been at home about a fortnight. " To >>e sure you may, you little torment," replied I ; " are you coming to learn mathematics, or to teach me crochet ? for I see you are armed with that vicious little hook with which you delight to torture the wool of innocent lambs into strange shapes, for the pm-pose of providing your friends with innumerable small anomalous absurdities, which they had much rather be without." " No such thing, Mr. Impudence ; I never make any article which is not particularly useful as well as ornamental. But, Frank dear," she continued, " I should not have interi-upted you. only I wanted to tell you something— it may lye nothing to signify, and yet I cannot help feeling alarmed about it." " "What is it. darling ? " said I, putting my arm round her taper little waist, and drawing her towards me. "Why, Mr. Oaklands has been here this morning; he came to bring mamma a message from Sir John, in\-iting us all to dine with him to-moiTow." " Nothing very alarming so far," observed I ; "go on." " Mamma said we should be extremely happy to do so, and quitted the room to find a receipt she had promised to the housekeeper at the HaU." "And you were left alone with Harry— that was alanning cei-tainly," said I. " Nonsense." returned Fanny, while a very becoming blush glowed on her cheek; "how you do interrupt me! Mr. Oaklands had kindly offered to explain a difficult passage in Dante for me, and I was standing on a chair to get down the book—" " Which he could have reached by merely stretching out his arm, I dare say, only he was too idle," interposed I. " Indeed he could not," replied Fanny quickly, " for he was sitting in the low easy-chair, and trying to fasten mamma's spectacles on Donald's nose." (Donald being a favourite Scotch ten-ier belonging to Harry, and a great character in his way.) " Well, I had just found the book." she continued, " and we were going to begin, when a note was FRANK FAIRLEGH 169 given to Mr. Oaklands, -which had been brought by a groom from the Ball, with a message that the gentleman who had left it was waiting at the inn in the village for an answer. Mr. Oaklands b^an to read it in his usual quiet way, but no sooner had he thi-own his eye over "the first few lines than his cheeks flushed, his brow gi-ew dark, and his face assumed that fearfully stem expression which I have heard you describe, but had never before seen myself. As soon as he had finished reading it he crushed the paper in his hand, and sprang up, saying hui-riedly, ' Is Frank— ? ' He then took two or three steps towards the door, and I thought he was coming to consult you. Suddenly, however, some new idea seemed to ci-oss his mind, and stopping abruptly, he strode towards the window, where he remained for a few moments, apparently buried in thought. At length he muttered, ' Yes, that will be better, better in all respects ; ' and turning on his heel, he was about to quit the room, leaWng his hat on the table, when I ventured to hand it to him, saying, ' Tou are going without your hat, Mr. Oaklands.' He started at the soimd of my voice, and seeming for the first time to recollect that I was in the room, he took the hat from me, Isegging my pardon for his inatten- tion, and adding, ' Tou mxist allow me to postpone our Italian lesson "till— tiU to-morrow, shall we say ? I find there is a gentleman waiting to see me.' He paused as if he wished to say more, but scarcely knew how to express himself. ' Tou saw,' he continued, ' that is — you may have obseiwed that— that in fact there was something in that note which annoyed me — you need not say anything about it to Mrs. Fairlegh ; she is rather given to alarming herself unnecessarily, I fancy, he added with a faint smile ; * tell Frank I shall not l>e at home till dinner-time, but that I shall see him in the evening.' He then shook my hand warmly, and holding it for a moment in his own, fixed his eyes on my face with a strange, half -melancholy expression that frightened me, and once more saying ' good-bye,' he pressed his hat over his brows, and bounding across the lawn, was out of sight in an instant. His manner was so very odd, so unlike what it generally is. Dear Frank, what is the meaning of all this ? I am sure there is something going to happen, something — " " Tou silly child," replied I, affecting a careless composure I was far from feeling, " how you frighten yourself about nothing ! Harry has probably received a threatening letter from a Cambridge dun, and your lively imagination magnifies it into a "— " challenge," I was going to add, but I substituted—" into something dreadfid." " Is that what you really think ? " questioned Fanny, fixing her large blue eyes upon my face inquiringly. I am the worst hand in the world at playing the hypocrite, and with ready tact she perceived at once that I was attempting to deceive her. ■* Frank." she resumed, " you have seen but little of me since we were children together, and deem, possibly, that I am a weak, silly ^rl, unfit to be tnisted with evil tidings ; but indeed, dear brother, 170 FRANK FAIRLEGH you do me injustice ; the son-ows we have gone through," and her eyes filled with tears as she spoke, " the necessity for exertion in order to save mamma as much as possible, have given me more strength of character and firmness of purpose than girls of my age in general possess ; tell me the truth, and fear not that power will be given me to bear it, be it what it may ; but. if I think you are trying to hide it from me — and do not hope to deceive me ; your face proves that you are as much alarmed at what you have heard as I am my- self, and probably with far better reason — I shall be imable to forget it, and it will make me miserable." " Well then," replied I, " thus far I will trust you. I do fear, from what you have told me, that Oaklands has received some e^il tidings relative to a disagreeable affair in which he was engaged at Cambridge, the results of which are not fully known at present, and which, I am afraid, may yet occasion him much care and anxiety." " And I had fancied him so light-hearted and happy." said Fanny thoughtfully ; " and is this all I'm to know about it, then ? " " All that I feel myself at libei-ty to tell at present," i-eplied I ; " recollect, darling, it is my friend's secret, not my own, or you should hear everything." "Then you will tell me all your secrets if I ask you?" inquired Fanny archly. " Whom should I trust or confide in if not my own dear little sister ? " said I, stroking her golden locks caressingly. '" And now,"" continued I, rising, " I will go and see whether I can do any good in. this affair ; but when Master Han-y is in one of his impetuous moods he gets qiaite beyond my management." " Oh ! but you can influence him," exclaimed Fanny, her bright eyes sparkling with animation ; " you can calm his impetuosity with your own quiet good sense and clear judgment — you can appeal to his high and generous nature — you can tell him how dear he is to you, how you love him with more than a brother's love : you can and will do all this— will you not, dear Frank ? " " Of course, I shall do eveiything that I am able, my dear child, replied I, somewhat astonished at this sudden outburst ; " and now go, and be quiet, this business seems rather to have excited you. If my mother asks for me, tell her I am gone up to the HaU." " What warm-hearted creatures women are ! " thought I, as I ran, rather than walked through the park : " that little sister of mine, now — no sooner does she hear that my friend has got into a scrape, of the very nature of which she is ignorant (a pfetty fuss she would be in if she were aware that it was a duel, of which I am afraid),, than she becomes quite excited, and implores me, as if she were pleading for her life, to use my influence with Hari-y to prevent his doing — something, she has not the most remote notion what. I wish she did not act quite so much from impulse. It's lucky she has got a brother to take care of her ; though it does not become me to find fault with her, for it aU proceeds from her affection for me ; she FRANK FAIRLEGH 171 knows how wi-etclied I should be if anything^ were to go wrong witk HaiTy," — and then I fell into a train of thought as to what it could be which had so suddenly excited him : something connected with "Wilford, no doubt ; but what ? — my fears pointed to a challenge, and my blood ran cold at the thought. He must accept it ; neither my influence, were it increased a hundredfold, nor that of anyone else, could make him apologize ; besides, it is not veiy easy to imagine a satisfactory apology for horse-whipping a man till he cannot stand. And what course likely to be of any use could I take ? On one point I was resolved — nothing should induce me to become his second. What would be my feelings in case of a fatal result were I to reflect that I had made all the aiTangements for the murder of the friend I loved best in the world — that I had actually stationed him opposite the never-failing pistol of his most bitter enemy, and placed in his hand a deadly weapon wherewith to attempt the life of a fellow- creature, when the nest moment he might be called upon to answer before the Judge of all mankind for the deeds which he had done in the flesh ? No ! I could not be his second. As my meditations reached this point, I oveiix)ok the gi'oom who had brought the eventful note, and who was leism-ely proceeding on foot towards the Hall, with that peculiar gait observable in men who spend much of their time on horseback, which consists of a compromise between walking and riding, and is strongly suggestive of their inability to realize the fact that they have not at all times and seasons a peiiDetual horse between their legs. '' Have you seen Mr. Oaklands, Han-is ? " inquired I, as the man touched his hat respectfully. " Yes, sir, I may say I've seen him, and that's all," was the reply. " I brought him a note to the cottage, and was waiting for orders, when he came tearing out, ordered me to get off, spi-ang into my saddle, and without stopping for me to let down the stimiijs, drove his heels into 'Tom-Trot' — that's the new grey horse, sir, if you please — and was out of sight like old boots." Not having time to institute an inquiry into the amount of velocity with which the ancient articles referred to by Mr. Harris were accustomed to vanish, I asked if he knew who brought the note. " A groom in a dark, claret-coloured Uvery, mounted on a splendid coal-black mare, nearly thorough-bred, but with more bone and substance about her than you generally see in them sort, and as clean on her pins as an unbroke colt. Sir John ain't got such a horse in his stables, nor Mr. Han-y neither," was the reply. This was conclusive evidence ; the liveiy and the mare were alike Wilford's. Leaving the groom to conjecture what he pleased, 1 hurried on,, and reaching the HaU, inquired of the old butler whether Harry was at home. "No, sir," was the reply, "they ain't any of them at home. Mr. 172 FRANK FAIRLEGH Harry came home a horseback about a quarter of an hour apo, and called Mr. Archer into his own room, and they had a confab, and then Mr. Ai-cher went out a-riding on the same horse Mr. Han-y came back upon and would not take any o' the grooms with him — and afore that Sir John had ordered the phaeton and Mr. Henry being come home he asked him to go with him ; so you see, Mr. Fairlegh, they're none of 'em at home, sir." " I'll go into the library and write a note. Edmonds," said I. as a new idea entered my head, "you know Sir John is kind enough to Jet me order a horse whenever I require one — will you tell Harris to have one saddled for me in ten minutes' time ? " " Certainly, Mr. Fairlegh ; we aU of us have Sir John's orders to attend to you, sir, the same as to Mr. Henry, and you're a yo\mg gent as it's a pleasure to serve too, if you'll excuse me taking the liberty of telling you so," replied the good old man, as he showed me into the library. The idea which had come into my head (and it was more for the sake of doing something that I determined on it, than from any great hope I entertained of its proving of much avail) was to ride •over to HiUingford, and consult Freddy Coleman on the subject. Perhaps his clear head and quick wit might enable him to devise £ome scheme by which, without betraying Harry's confidence, or bringing the slightest imputation on his honour, this duel might be prevented. What else could I do ? It was quite clear to me, that the note Han-y had received was a challenge from Wilf ord, and that the gentleman waiting at the inn was someone whom he had prevailed upon to act as his second, probably Wentworth. Hany's first impulse had evidently been to come to me, and ask me to be his second; but, doubtless, guessing the distaste I should have to the office, and reflecting on the difficulties in which, if anything serious were to ensue, I might be involved, he had determined on asking Archer instead. Archer, by instantly setting off on horseback alone, had clearly agreed to his request, and was gone to make the necessary arrangements ; and Han-y had gladly accompanied Sir John, in order to be out of the way, and so avoid my questions and any attempts I might have made to induce him to alter his purpose. Were I to inform Sir John on his retm-n, it would be an unpardon- able breach of confidence towards Han-y ; were I to give notice to "the authorities, so as to enable them to take measm-es for preventing the duel, it would always be said by Wilford that I did so with Hai-ry's connivance, because he was afraid to meet him : thus my hands were tied in every way, and, as I said before, I could think of nothing better than to ride over and consult Coleman, whose powers of getting out of a scrape I had seen pretty well tested in the affair of the bell-ringing. I therefore scrawled a hasty note to my mother, telling her that I was going to take a long ride, and she had better not wait dinner for me ; and leaving a message for Oaklands with the servant who anjaounced the horse, that I should see him in the FRANK FAIRLEGH 17S evening', flung' myself into tlie saddle, rode quietly till I was out of sight of the house and then started at a gallop for Hillin^ord. Unwilling to meet any of the Coleman family, I left my horse at the inn, and pulling my hat over my brows, to avoid, if possible, being recognized by their servant, rang the bell, and desired him to tell Mr. Frederic that a gentleman wanted to speak with him on particidar business. CHAPTER XXYI. COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE. "If you think your mystery in Btratagem can bring this instrument of honour agaiiv into hia native quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprise, and go on ; I will grace the attempt for a worthy exploit ii you speed well in it." " Now I see the bottom of your purpose." " You see it la\vful then." " I love him, sir. Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty. Beyond what can be valued rich or rare, No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour ; A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable — " " Adieu ! these foolish drops do somewhat drown my manly spirit." Shaketptare, " Freddy, can I have half an hour's private conversation with you ? " asked I, as soon as we had exchanged salutations. " To be sure you can ; but," he added, catching a glimpse of the anxious expression of my face, " there is nothing wrong, is there ? " I made a gesture indicative of silence, and he opened a door into a sort of lawyer's office, saying in a low voice, — " Come in here, we shall not be interrupted ; the governor's in London, and the women are out walking." " So much the better," replied I, "for the business I am come upon, is strictly private, and will not brook delay." I then told him as concisely as possible the whole affair from beginning to end; he listened attentively to my recital, merely asking a question now and then to elucidate any partictdar point he did not clearly understand. I fancy he made a gesture of sm-prise when I first mentioned Wilford's name, and when I had concluded he asked, — " Wilford, you say, this man's name is ? What is his ChristiaiL name ? " " Stephen." " And he's a yoimg fellow ? " 174 FRANK FAIRLEGH " About tliree or four and twenty." " And you want to prevent liis being able to shoot Harry Oaklands at five o'clock to-morrow moming ? " " I do not know tbe hour, but I conclude the meeting will probably take place to-mon*ow morning. Wilford would not wish to remain in the neighbourhood longer than necessary, lest he should attract attention." Coleman mused for some minutes, and then muttei-ing as though he were thinking aloud, — " It might be done, so ^ yes, that would do. I suppose," he said, at length addressing me, " if Master Wilford were taken into custody on a magistrate's wan-ant at half -past four a.m., that would suit your ideas vei*y nicely ? I can so arrange the matter that Wilford -will never be able to trace the laying the information to our door." " But how can you avoid that ? " inquired I. " Why, if you must know," replied Freddy, " I am acquainted with a man who would give a himdred pounds any day to stop oui' friend Stephen from fighting a duel." " What, do you know Wilford, then ? " asked I. " Ray-ther," was the reply, accompanied by a very significant wink — "just a vei-y few — I should say we were not entire strangers, though I have never enjoyed the honour of much personal inter- course with him ; but I do not so deeply regret that, as, from your accoimt, it seems rather a dangerous privilege." " How in the world do you know anything about him ? " " Oh ! it's a long story, but the chief points of it are these : The aforesaid Mr. Wilford, if he can continue to exist till he is five-and- twenty, comes into ^£5000 a year; but if we don't interfere, and Han-y Oaklands has the luck to send a bullet into him to-moiTOw morning, away it all goes to the next heir. Wilford is now three- and-twenty, and the tiiistees make him a liberal allowance of .£800 per annum, on the strength of which he spends between ,£2000 and .£3000 : of course, in order to do this, he has to raise money on his expectancies. About two months ago he wanted to sell the con- tingent reversion of a large estate in Yorkshire, from which the greater part of his future income is to be derived ; and a client of om's thought of buying it — ergo, we were set to work upon the matter : whilst we were investigating his right, title, and aU that sort of thing, lo and behold ! a heavy claim, amounting to some thousands, is made upon the propei-ty — by whom, do you think, of all people in the world? — none other than our old acquaintance, Richard Cum- berland ! " " Good heavens ! " exclaimed I, " how strange ! " " Cumberland," continued Freddy, " has become somehow con- nected with a lot of bill-brokers — low stock-jobbers — in fact, a very shady set of people, with whom, however, in our profession, we cannot avoid being sometimes brought into contact; he appears. FRANK FAIRLEGH 175 indeed, liiinself to be a sort of cross between blackleg and money- lender, improved by a considerable dash of tbe gambler, and present- ing altogether a very choice specimen of the thorough and complete blackguard. Somehow or other he contrives to have cash at command, and, instead of being pigeoned, has now taken to pigeoning others ; and, to give the devil his due, I fancy he does a very pretty stroke of business in that line. He is a good deal improved in manner and appearance since you remember him ; and among people who don't know him very intimately, he affects the man about town : in short, he is quite at the top of his profession. "Wilford became acquainted with him at one of the Newmarket meetings, lost money to him, and boiTowed money of him, and giving him as security a contingent charge upon the estate of double the amount— ergo, don't you see, if "Wilford should by any chance get his quietus from Harry's pistol, he won't live to come into his property, in which case Master Dicky Cumberland is minus some thousands. Now, if I contrive to give him a hint, depend upon it he stops the duel. I will caution him not to let my name appear— he will not hear yours ; so in this way I think we may manage the affair, and defy the old gentleman himself, though he's a very cunning lawyer, to trace it to us." " Well," said I, "as I see no other means of saving Oaklands' life— for this WiKord is a noted duellist, and no doubt thirsts to wash out -the insult he has received in blood— I suppose we must do it ; but it is an underhand proceeding which I do not at all like." " There you go with your chivalric, high-flown, romantic notions ; you would stand coolly by, and see the best friend you have in the world butchered before your eyes, rather than avail yourself of a splendid chance of saving him, which Foi-time has thrown in your way, because, forsooth, it involves a little innocent manoeu-v-ring I— for heaven's sake, my dear boy, get off your stilts, and give common sense fair play." '• I can only repeat what I have just said," replied I ; " I will do it, because I believe it is the only thing to save Harry ; but I do not like it, and never shall." " I cry you mercy, Signor Francisco de Fairlegh, the veritable Don Quixote of the nineteenth centuiT," laughed Freddy; "and now, most chivah-ous sir, where do you imagine it probable that this evil ' faiteur,' this man of powder and pistols, hangs out ? " " He is most Ukely at the inn at Carsley, a village on the London road, about four miles from us," replied I ; " I don't know of any other place in the neighbom-hood where he could be lodged. But I'll tell you what I'll do— the naite of the inn is the White Horse— if I should prove wrong in fancying he is there, I will send a message to that inn to say where he may be found." " Exactly," returned Freddy, entering the White Horse, Carsley, in his tablets ; " now I think I know all about it, and it shall not be my fault if this duel comes off to-morrow morning. Good-bye, old 176 FRANK FAIRLEGH fellow ! I wish you did not look quite so grumpy about it, but it's all those mediaeval prejudices of yours. I dare say you'd think it a much more manly way of stopping the business, to electrotype your- self in brass and steel, throw yourself across a cart-horse plated to match, and shouting, ' Fairlegh to the rescue ! ' run a long pole, pointed with iron, through Wilford's jugular. Now, I consider mine much the most philosophical way of doing the trick ; in fact, con- ducting a dodge of this kind always affords me intense satisfaction, and puts me into the highest possible spirits. Have you ever seen, the war dance, in which the Hotto-potto-cum-from-the-wash-ki Indians usually indulge before they set out on an expedition ? — A. quarter to three," he continued, pulling out his watch. " the coach to London passes in five minutes, I shan't have time to show it you— it begins so." Thus saying, he flung himself into a perfectly indescrib- able attitude, and commenced a series of evolutions, more nearly resembling the contortions of a dancing bear, than any other Terpsichorean exhibition with which I was acquainted. Having^ continued this until he had made himself very unnecessarily hot, he wound up the performance by flinging a summerset, in doing which he overturned himself and the coal-scuttle into a box of deeds : whereby becoming embaiTassed, he experienced much difficulty in getting right end upwards again. " There," he exclaimed, throwing himself into an arm-chair, commonly occupied by his father's portly form — " There ! talk of accomplishments — show me a fashionable young lady who can do that, and I'll say she is accomplished. It's rather wann work, though," he continued, wiping his brow, " unless one wears the appropriate costume, which, I believe, consists of a judicious mixture of red and yellow paint, three feathers, and the scalp of your opposite neighbour. Pleasant that," he added, pointing- to the reversed coal-scuttle — " that's a new edition, not of ' Coke upon Littleton,' but of Coal upon — what's the suit ? aye. Buffer versus Stoker. I shall have to make out a case of circumstantial evidence against the cat, or I'm safe for a rowing from the governor. Good-bye, old boy ! don't fancy I'm mad ; I'm not the fool I seem, though I confess appearances are against me just at present. There's the coach, by Jingo, thi-ee bays and a grey — no chance of the box — is this a hat ? ofB we go." So saying, he shook my hand warmly,, bounded down the steps, and the next moment was rattling away towards London as fast as four horses could hurry him. It was with a heavy heart, and a foreboding of coming e\'il, that I mounted my horse, and slowly retraced my way towards Heathfield. Coleman's exuberant spirits, which, I believe, were partly assumed, with a view to cheer me by diverting liiy attention from the painful subject which engrossed it, had produced an effect diametrically opposite to that which he had intended, and I felt dissatisfied with the step I had taken, doubtful of the success of his mission, anxious to a degree, which was absolutely painful, about the fate of HaiTy, and altogether thoroughly miserable. I reached home in time for FRANK FAIRLEGH 177 dinner, dui-ing which meal my abstracted manner and low spirits were so apparent, as to set my mother speculating on the chances of my having overheated myself and " got a chill," whilst Fanny's anxious questioning glances, to which I was well aware I could furnish no satisfactory reply, produced in me a degi-ee of nervous excitement which was unbearable, and, the moment the cloth was withdrawn, I left the room, and rambled forth into the wildest parts of the park. The quiet peaceful beauty of the scene, and the refreshing coolness of the evening air, had, in a great measure, calmed the excitement under which I laboured, and I was turning my steps towards the Hall, when I met Oaklands and Ai-cher, who, finding I was not at the cottage, had come in search of me. Half an hour's conversation served to render all my previous conjectures matters of certainty. The challenge had been given and accepted, "Wentworth was to be "Wilford's second, and he and his principal were staying at the inn at Carsley. The spot chosen for the scene of action was a plot of grassland situated about half-way between Carsley and Heathfield, so as to be equally accessible to both parties ; the time appointed was five o'clock the following morning. Ai-cher was to act as Oaklands' second; evei-ything had been managed with the gi-eatest caution, and they did not believe a single creature, excepting themselves, had the slightest suspicion that such an event was likely to take place. They had resolved not to tell me till everything was settled, as they feared my opposition. B.aving thus taken me into their confidence. Archer left us, saying, that " probably Oaklands might like to have some private conversation with me, and he would join us again in half an hour." Rejoiced at this opportunity, I entered at once upon the subject which most interested me, and used every argument 1 could think of to induce Han-y not to return Wilford's fire. Oaklands heard me for some time in silence, and I began to fear my efforts would be fniitless, when suddenly he turned towai-ds me, and said— his fine eyes beaming with an almost womanly expression of tenderness as he spoke—" Would this thing make you happier in case I fall ? " A silent pressure of the hand was my only answer, and he added in a low voice, " then it shall be as you wish." A pause ensued : for my own part, the thought that this might be our last meeting, completely overpowered me; I did not know tUl that moment the strength and intensity of my affection for him. The silence was at length intemipted by Oaklands himself, and the low tones of his deep rich voice trembled with emotion, as they fell mournfully on the stiUness of the evening air. "My father! "he said, " that kind old man, whose happiness is wi-apped up in my welfare— it vnU. break his heart, for he has only me to love. Frank, my brother ! " he added, passing his arm round my neck, as he had used to do when we were boys together, " you are young ; your mind is strong and vigorous, and will enable you to meet sorrow as a man should confront and overcome whatever is opposed to him in his ' N 178 FRANK FAIRLEGH path throuffli life. I ^vill not disgaiise from yoii that, looking- rationally and calmly at the matter, I have but little hope of quitting the field to-moiTOw alive. My antag^onist, naturally a man of vindictive disposition, is incensed against me beyond all power of forgiveness, and his skill is fully equal to his malice : should I fall, I leave my father to your care ; be a son to him in the place of the one he will have lost. This is not a light thing which I ask of you, Frank. I ask you to give up your independence, your high hopes of gaining name and fortune by the exercise of your own talents and industry, and to devote some of the best years of your life to the weaiy task of complying with the caprices, and bearing the sorrows, of a grief-stricken old man. Will you do this for me, Frank ? " " I will," replied I ; " and may God help me, as I execute this trust faithfully ! " " Tou have relieved my mind of half its burden," returned Oaklands waiTuly. " I have only one thing more to mention : When I came of age last year, my father's liberality made over to me an ample income for a single man to live on : excepting a few legacies to old servants, I have divided this between your good little sister and yourself, which I thought you would prefer to my leaving it to you alone." " HaiTy ! indeed, I cannot allow you to do this ; others must surely have claims upon you." " There is not a being in the world who has a inght to expect a farthing at my death," answered he ; " the next heir to the entailed estates is a distant relation in Scotland, already wealthy. My father has always been a careful man, and, should he lose me, will have a larger income than he can possibly be able to spend ; besides, as the duties I have led you to undertake must necessarily prevent you from engaging actively in any profession, I am bound in common fairness to provide for you." " Be it so, then," replied I, inwardly breathing a prayer that I never might possess a sixpence of the promised fortune. " One thing more," added Han-y. " When you retui-n to Trinity — % poor old Trinity, shall I ever visit you again ? — find out how Lizzie Maurice is going on, and if she should man-y respectably in her own rank, ask my father to give you ^100 as a wedding jDresent for her ; only hint that it was my wish, and he would give twenty times the sum. And now good — pshaw ! " he continued, drawing his hand across his eyes, " I shall play the woman if I talk to you much more — good-night, Fi-ank — do you accompany us to the ground to-moiTow morning ? " "I will go with you," returned I, with difficulty overcoming a choking sensation in my throat ; " I may be able to be of some use." " Here comes Archer," said Oaklands, " so once more good-night ; I must get home, or my father will wonder what is become of me." My heart was too full to speak, and pressing his hand I turned abruptly away, and walked quickly in the opposite direction. FRANK FAIRLEGH 179 CHAPTER XXYII. THE DUEL. " The sun begins to gild the western sky, And now it is about the very hour. • * * They will not fail, Unless it lie to come before their time ; So much they spur their expedition," Shalceipeare, " Now go thy way : faintness constraineth me To measure out my length on thia cold bed." Shake»pfare. " And me they bear .... To one deep chamber shut from sound, and due To languid limbs and sickness." Tenny son's "Princess," I DID not return to the cottage until tlie usual hour for going to bed^ as I did not dare subject myseK to Fanny's penetrating glance in my present state of excitement. The moment family prayers were concluded, I took my candle, and, pleading fatigue, retired to my room. Knowing that sleep was out of the question in my then fi-ame of mind, I merely substituted the clothes I intended to wear in the morning for those I had on, and wrapping my dressing-gown round me, flung myself on the bed. Here I lay, tossing about, and unable to compose myself for an hour or two, the one idea constantly recuning to me, " What if Coleman should fail ! " At length, feverish and excited, I sprang up, and, throwing open the window which was near the ground, enjoyed the fresh breeze as it played around my heated temples. It was a lovely night; the stars, those calm eyes of Heaven, gazed down in their brightness on this world of sin and soitow, seeming to reproach the stormy passions and restless strife of men by contrast with their own impassive gi'andeur. After remaining motionless for several minutes, I was about to close the window, when the sound of a footstep on the turf beneath caught my ear, and a form, which I recognized in the moon- light as that of Archer, approached. '■ Up and dressed already, Fairlegh ? " he commenced in a low tone as he perceived me ; " may I come in ? " In silence I held out my hand to him, and assisted him to enter. " Like me," he resumed. " I suppose you could not sleep ? " " Utterly impossible," replied I ; " but what biings you here — has anything occurred ? " " Nothing," returned Archer ; " Oaklands retired early, as he said he wished to be alone, and I followed his example, but could not contrive to sleep. I don't know how it is, I was engaged in an affair of this natm-e once before, and never cared a pin about the matter ; 180 FRANK FAIRLEGH but somehow I have got what they call a presentiment that haiTa will come of to-morrow's business. I saw that man, Wilford, for a minute yesterday, and I know by the expi-ession of his eye that he means mischief ; there was such a look of fiendish triumph in his face when he found the challenge was accepted — if ever there was a devil incarnate, he is one." A sigh was my only answer, for his words were but the echo of my forebodings. " Now I will tell you what brought me here," he continued ; " don't you think that we ought to have a siu-geon on the ground, in case of anything going wrong ? " " To be sure," replied I ; " I must have been mad to have forgotten that it was necessai-y — what can be done ?— it is not eveiy man that would choose to be mixed up with siich an affair. Where is it that William Ellis'e brother (Ellis of Trinity Hall, you know) has settled ? — he told me he had pm-chased a practice somewhere in our neighbourhood." " The vei-y man, if we could but get him," replied Archer ; " the name of the village is Harley End ; do you know such a place ? " " Yes," returned I, " I know it well ; it is a favourite meet of the hounds, about twelve miles hence. I'll find him, and bring him here — what time is it ? just two— if I could get a horse I would do it easily." " My tilbuiT^ and horse are up at the village," said Archer ; " now Harry's horses are at home, they could not take mine in at the Hall." " The very thing," said I, " we shall not lose a moment in that case. Is your horse fast ? I shall have to try his mettle." " He'll not fail you," was the reply ; " but don't spare him — I would rather you should ruin fifty horses than an-ive too late." On reaching the inn, we had to rouse a di'owsy ostler in order to procure the key of the stables, and it was half -past two before I was able to start. The road to Harley End was somewhat intricate, more than once I took a wrong turning, and was forced to retrace my steps ; being aware also of the distance I had to perfoinn, I did not care to hurry the horse too much, so that it only wanted a quarter to four when I reached my destination. Here, however, fortune favoured me, Mr. Ellis, it appeared, being an ardent disciple of Isaac Walton, had resolved to rise at daybreak in order to beguile sundi'y trout, and, at the entrance of the village, I met him strolling along, rod in hand. Two minutes sufficed to make him acquainted with the object of my mission, and in less than five minutes more (a space of time which I employed in washing out the horse's mouth at an opportune horse- trough, with which I took the liberty of making free) he had provided himseK with a case of instniments, and other necessai'y hoiTors, all of which he described to me seriatim, as we retiu-ned, with an affectionate minuteness for which I could have strangled him. We started at a rattling pace on oui- homeward di-ive, hedgerow FRANK FAIRLEGH 181 and fence gliding by us like slides in a magic-lantem. Archer's horse did not belie the character he had given of him. With head erect, and expanded "nostiil, he threw his legs forward in a long slashing trot, whirled the light tilbm*y along at the i*ate of at least eleven miles an hour ; and foi'tunate it was that he did not flinch from his work, for he had between thirteen and foui-teen miles to perform in an hour and ten minutes, in order to reach the appointed spot by five o'clock. In om- way we had to pass within a quarter of a mile of Heathfield Hall ; all seemed quiet as we did so, and I heard the old clock over the stables strike a quarter to five. " "We shall be in capital time," said I, drawing a long breath, as I felt relieved from an anxious dread of being too late. "It was a near thing though, and if I had not met you as I did, we should scarcely have done it." '■ Famous horse," replied EUis ; " but you've rather over-di-iven him the last two or three miles ; if I were Archer, I should have a little blood taken from him — nothing like venesection ; it's safe practice in such cases as the present. You've a remarkably clear head, Fairlegh, I know; now I'll just explain to you the common sense of the thing : the increased action of the heart forces the blood so rapidly through the lungs, that proper time is not allowed for oxy- genization — " " We shall be in sight of the place when we have advanced another himdi-ed yards," interrupted I, as we turned down a green lane. " Shall we ? " replied my companion, standing up in the gig, and shading his eyes with his hand. " Yes, I see them, they're on the gi-ound ab-eady, and, by Jove, they are placing their men ; they must have altered the time, for it wants f uU ten minutes of five now." "If they have," replied I, lashing the horse into a gallop, as I remembered that this unhappy change would probably frustrate Coleman's scheme, " if they have all is lost." My companion gazed upon me with a look of surprise, but had no time to ask for an explanation, for at that moment we reached the gate leading into the field, around which was collected a group, consisting of a gig and a dog-cart (which had conveyed the respective parties, and a servant attendant upon each, to the ground), and two or three laboui-ing men, whom the unusual occiuTence had caused to leave theii* work, and who were eagerly watching the proceedings — whilst, just inside the gate, a boy, whom I recognized as Wilf ord's tiger, was leading about a couple of saddle-horses, one of them being the magnificent black thorough-bred mare, of which mention has been ab-eady made. Pulling up the horse with a jerk which threw him on his haunches, I sprang out, and, placing my hand on the top i-ail of the gate, leaped over it, gaining, as I did so, a full view of the antagonist parties, who were stationed at about two hundred yards from the spot where I alighted. Scarcely, however, had I taken a step or two towards the scene of action, when one of the seconds, Wentworth, I 182 FRANK FAIRLEGH "believe, dropped a white handkerchief, and immediately the sharp report of a pistol rang in my ear, followed instantaneonsly by a second. From the first moment I caupht sight of them my eyes had become riveted by a species of fascination, which rendered it impossible to ^nthdraw them, upon Oaklands. As the handkerchief dropped I beheld him raise his arm, and discharge his pistol in the air, at the same moment he gave a -violent start, pressed his hand to his side, staggered blindly forward a pace or two, then fell heavily to the groimd (rolling partially over as he did so), where he lay perfectly motionless, and to all appearance dead. On finding all my worst forebodiners thns apparently realized, I stood for a moment horror-stricken by the fearful sight I had witnessed. I was first roused to a sense of the necessity for action by Ellis, the surgeon, who shouted as he ran past me, — " Come on, for God's sake, though I believe he's a dead man I " In another moment I was kneeling on the turf, assisting Archer (who trembled so violently that he could scarcely retain his grasp) to raise and suppoi-t Oaklands' head. "Leave him to me," said I ; "I can hold him without assistance; you will be of more use helping Ellis." " Oh ! he's dead— I tell you he is dead ! " exclaimed Archer, in a tone of the most bitter anguish. " He is no such thing, sir," returned Ellis angi-ily ; " hand me that lint, and don't make such a fuss ; you're as bad as a woman." Though slightly reassured by Ellis's speech, I confess that, as I looked upon the motionless form I was supporting, I felt half inclined to fear Archer might be con-ect in his supposition. Oak- lands' head, as it rested against me, roemed to lie a perfectly dead weight upon my shoulder; the eyes were closed, the lips, partly separated, were rapidly assuming a blue, livid tint, whilst from a small cii'cular onfice on the left side of the chest the life-blood was gushing with fearful rapidity. " Open that case of instmments, and take out the tenaculum. No, no ! not that ; here, give them to me. sir ; the man will bleed to death while you are fumbling," continued Ellis, snatching his instruments from the trembling hands of Archer. " You are only in the way where you are," he added ; " fetch some cold water, and sprinkle his face ; it will help to re-\*ive him." At this moment Wilford joined the gi'Oiip which was beginning to form round us. He was dressed as usual in a closely-fitting siiit of black, the single-breasted frock-coat buttoned up to the neck, so as not to show a single speck of white which might serve to direct his antagonist's aim. He approached with his wonted air of haughty in- difference, coolly fastening the button of his glove. On perceiving me, he slightly raised his hat, saying, — " Tou are resolved to see this matter to its conclusion, then, Mr. Fairlegh ; no one can be better aware than you are how completely your friend brought his fate upon himself." -iMj^k. v-rjf.' ^^^nv^f^ -- '-^ yi^e^f€6/^ ^ Of FRANK FAIRLEGH 183 He paused, as if for an answer ; but, as I remained silent, not being able to trust myself to speak, he added, gazing sternly at the prostrate form before him—" Thus perish all who dare to cross my path ! " Then casting a withei-ing glance around, as he marked the indignant looks of the bystandei-s, he turned on his heel and stalked slowly away. " He'd best quicken his pace," obsei-ved one of the countrymen who had joined the groiip, " for there's them a coming as may stop his getting away quite so easy." As he spoke, the gate of the field was thrown open, and a couple of men on horseback rode hastily in. Wilford, however, as soon as he perceived their approach, made a sign to the boy to bring his horse, and, spiinging lightly into the saddle, waited quietly till they came near enough for him to recognize their faces, when, raising his voice, he said in a tone of the most cutting sarcasm, — '■ As I expected, I perceive it is to Mr. Cumberland's disinterested attachment that I am indebted for this kind attempt to provide for my safety ; it so happens you are a ciuai*ter of an hour too late, sir. I have the honour to wish you good-moming." Thus saying, he turned his horse's head, and cantered across the field. The man he had addressed, and in whom, though he was considerably altered, I recognized the well-remembered features of Richard Cumberland, paused, as if in doubt what to do ; not so his companion, however, who, shouting, " Come on, su% we may nab him yet," drove the spurs into the stout roadster he bestrode and galloped fiu-iously after him, an example which Cumberland, after a moment's hesitation, hastened to follow, though at a more modei-ate rate. WUford suffered the foremost rider to come neai-ly up to him, and then, quickening his pace, led him round the two sides of the field ; but perceiving the gate was closed, and that men had stationed themselves in front of it to prevent his egi-ess, he doubled upon his pursuers, and putting the mare for the first time to her full speed, galloped towards the opposite side of the field, which was enclosed by a strong fence, consisting of a bank with oak palings on the top, and a wide ditch beyond. Slackening his pace as he approached this obstacle, he held his horse cleverly together, and, without a moment's hesitation, rode at it. The beautiful animal, gathering her legs well under her, faced it boldly, rose to the rail, and clearing it with the gi-eatest ease, bounded lightly over the ditch, and continued her course on the fm-ther side with imabated speed. Appai-ently determined not to be outdone, his pursuer, whipping and spumng with all his might, charged the fence at the same spot where "Wilford had cleai-ed it ; the consequence was his horse rushed against the rail, striking his chest with so much violence as to throw him- self down, pitching his rider over his head into the ditch beyond, whence he emerged, bespattered with mud, indeed, but other- wise uninjured. As he reappeared his companion rode up to him, and, after conversing with him earnestly for a minute or so. 184 FRANK FAIRLEGH turned and left the field, without exchanging a word with any other person. During this transaction, which did not occupy one-fourth of the time it has taken us to describe, Ellis had in a great measure succeeded in staunching the flow of blood, and a slight shade of colour became again visible in Oaklands' cheek. " He will bear mo\-ing now," said Ellis quickly, " but you must find something to lay him upon ; take that gate off its hinges, some of you fellows— that will answer the pm-pose capitally. Come, bestir your- selves ; every moment is of importance." Thus urged, five or six sturdy labourers, who had been standing round, gazing with countenances of rude but sincere commiseration on the wounded man (for Han-y's kindheartedness and liberality made him very popular amongst the tenanti-y), started off, and retuiTied in an incredibly short space of time with the gate ; upon this were spread our coats and waistcoats, so as to form a tolerably convenient couch, upon which, under Ellis's direction, we lifted with the greatest caution the still insensible form of Han-y Oaklands. " Now," exclaimed Ellis, " raise him very slowly on your shoulders, and take care to step together, so as not to jolt him ; if the bleeding should break out again, the whole College of Surgeons could not save him. Where's the nearest house he can be taken to ? He'll never last out till we reach the Hall." " Take him to our cottage," said I eagerly; " it is more than half a mUe nearer than the Hall." " But your mother and sister?" asked Archer. " Of course it will be a gi-eat shock to them," replied I ; " but I know them both well enough to feel sure they would not hesitate a moment when Han-y's life was in the balance. Do you want me for anything, or shall I go on and prepare them for your amval ? " "Do so, by all means," replied Ellis; "but stay— have you a bed- room on the ground-floor ? " " Yes," retiu-ned I, " my own." " Get the bed-clothes open," continued Ellis, " so that we can put him in at once ; it will save me half an hour's time aftei-wards, and is a thing which should always be thought of on these occasions." " Anything else ? " inquired I. " Yes, send somebody for the nearest surgeon ; two heads are better than one," said Ellis. Remembering, as I approached the cottage, that the window of my room by which Archer and I had quitted it the previous night would be unfastened, I deteraiined I would enter there, and, proceeding to my mother's door, call her up, and break the news as gently as the exigency of the case would permit, leaving her to act by Fanny as she should think best. Accordingly, I flung up the window, sprang in, and, throwing myself on the nearest chaii-, sat for a moment, panting from the speed at which I had come. As I did so, a timid FRANK FAIRLEGH 185 knock was heard at the door. I instinctively cried, " Come in ! " and Fanny entered. " I have been so anxious all night about what you told me yesterday, that I could not sleep, so I thought I would come to see if you were up," she commenced ; then, for the first time remarking my breath- less condition and disordered di-ess, she exclaimed, " Good Heavens 1 are you ill ? you pant for breath, and yovu- hands and the sleeves of your coat are saturated with water — with — oh ! it is blood ; you ai*e wounded ! " she cried, sinking in a chau-, and turning as pale as ashes. " Indeed, darling, you are alarming yourself unnecessarily ; I am perfectly uninjm-ed," replied I, soothingly. " Something dreadful has happened ! " she continued, fixing her eye upon me ; " I read it in yoiu* face." " An accident has occun-ed," I began ; " Oaklands — " '■ Stop I " she exclaimed, interrupting me, " the two shots I heard but now — his agitation — his strange manner yesterday — oh ! I see it all ; he has been fighting a duel." She paused, pressed her hands upon her eyes, as if to shut out some di-eadf ul vision, and then asked, in a low, broken voice, " Is he killed ? " " No." replied I, " on my word, on my honour, I assure you he is not ; the bleeding had ceased when I left him, which is a very favour- able symptom." Fanny sighed hea^-ily, as if relieved from some unbearable weight, and, after remaining silent for about a minute, she i-emoved her hands from her face, and said, in a calm tone of voice, — " And now, what is to be done ? can I be of any use ? " Astonished at the rapidity with which she had regained her self- control and presence of mind after the violent emotion she had so recently displayed, I replied, — " Yes, love, you can, the Hall is too far off, and they are bringing him here." As I spoke these words, she shuddered slightly, but seeing I was doubtful whether to proceed, she said. " Go on, pray." " Would you," I continued, *" break this to my mother, and tell her I believe — that is, I tnist — there is no gi-eat danger— and — and— do that first." With a sad shake of the head, as if she mistmsted my attempt to reassiu-e her, she quitted the room, whilst I obeyed Ellis's instructions by prepai-ing the bed; after which I imclosed the hall-door, and despatching the gai-dener's boy to fetch the surgeon, stood anxiously awaiting the ai-rival of the paily. I had not done so many minutes, when the measured tramp of feet gave notice of their approach, and in another instant they came in sight. 186 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XXVIII. THE SUBSTANCE OF THE SHADOW, " Recovery, where art thoa ? Daughter of Heaven, where shall we Beek thy help P " " Come thou and chase away Sorrow and Pain, the persecuting Powers, Who make the melancnoly day so long. So long the anxious night." " I look for thy approach, O, life-preser\-ing power ! as one who strays Alone in darkness o'er the pathless marsh. Watches the da^vn of day." Soufhef. " All well so far," replied Ellis, in answer to my look of inquiry " the bleeding has ceased, and he is fast recovering consciousness. Where is the room ? "We must get him into bed at once." "When we had placed him in the Ijed, Oaklands lay for a short space with his eyelids closed, uttering a low gi-oan at intei-vals ; at length the quiet appeared in some measure to restore him, and, slowly opening his eyes, he gazed languidly arormd, asking in a low voice, " Where am I ? " " Let me beg you not to speak, Mr. Oaklands," said Ellis ; " yom- safety depends upon yom* keeping silence ; you are at the cottage of your friend Fairlegh." As he heard these words, HaiTy perceived me standing near the bed, and smiled faintly in token of recognition ; then, making a sign for me to stoop down to him, he whispered, " My father— you must break this to him — go, Frank." " This instant," replied I, and I turned to leave the room, beckoning to Ellis, as I did so, to follow me. " Tell me the truth," exclaimed I, as he closed the door behind him, " will he live or die ? " ■' It is too early in the business to pronounce a decided opinion," Tvas the answer ; " nor can I ventm-e as yet to do so ; evei-ything depends upon the course the ball may have taken, and that, as soon as the other sm-geon an-ives, we must endeavoiu* to ascertain ; aU I can say at present is, that I have seen worse cases recover. There is one thing," he added, " which may be a satisfaction for you to know — if you had not brought me or someone in my profession, to the groimd, he would have bled to death where he fell ; no one but a surgeon could have stopped that bleeding." " If we had been too late I should never have forgiven myself, and we vei^y nearly were so," retiimed I. "I cannot understand how it was." " I can explain it," said Ai'cher, who now joined us. " Tou left me FRANK FAIRLEGH 187 Tip at the viUaere. you remember, Fairlegh, when you started to fetch Mr. Ellis ; well, just as I was leaving it to return to the Hall, a boy ran past me at the top of his speed, and began knocking at one of the cottage doors hard by ; sui-prised to see any one about at so early an bour in the morning, I inquired what was the matter. ' Master's just had word brought him that some gem'men is a going to fight a jewel at five o'clock, and I be come to caD the constable, for master to give bim a warrant to take 'em hup.' ' And who is yom- master ? ' ques- tioned I. ' Justice Bumbleby,' was the answer. This was enough for me ; I made the best of my way to the Hall, woke Oaklands, who was sleeping as calmly as a child, poor fellow ! and he immediately sent his own groom, the lad who went with us to the field, to inform "Wilford and his second of what I had heard, and to propose that the meeting should take place a quarter of an hour earlier than the time originally agreed on, to which they willingly consented." " This, then," thought I, " is the reason why Coleman's scheme failed, and Cumberland airived too late ;— well, one good thing is, it will clearly prove that neither Archer nor Oaklands connived at the intended inteiTuption." The deep, the agonizing grief of Sir John Oaklands, on receiving from my lips the account of his son's danger, was most painful to witness, and I was obliged to yield to his desire to retui-n with me to the cottage, although Ellis had sti-ictly forbidden his being allowed to see Harry, lest the excitement should prove injurious to the patient, in the precai-ious state in which he lay. On my return, I found the surgeon of the neighbom-hood, Mr. (or as he was more commonly styled Dr.) Probehuit, had an-ived, and that they were endeavouring to extract the ball, which, after a long and painful operation, they succeeded in doing. From the marks onlthe coat and waistcoat, it appeared that Wilf ord had aimed straight for the heart ; but his deadly intentions had been providentiaUy frustrated by the accident of Oaklands having a half-crown piece in a small pocket in his waistcoat, against which the ball struck, and glancing off, passed between two of the ribs, finally lodging amongst the muscles immedi- ately under the shoulder-blade. The great effusion of blood had been occasioned by its having divided one of the smaller arteries, which Ellis had succeeded in securing on the spot. The wound was, therefore, a very severe one; but it was impossible to pronounce upon the exact amoimt of danger at present, asjthe course which the ball had taken trenched closely on so many important organs, that time alone coiJd show the extent of the injury sustained. With this opinion, in which (strange to say) both doctors agi-eed, we were fain to content ourselves, and we passed the rest of the day in alternately watching by the wounded man, and attempting to comfort and support Sir John, whom we had the gi-eatest difficulty in keeping out of Harry's room, till Ellis asked him abi-uptly, " whether he wanted to murder his son ? " after which nothing short of force could have induced him to enter it. One of his first acts, having consulted with 188 FRANK FAIRLEGH Dr. Probehiu-t, who ^aciously approved of the measure, was to euter into an un-angemeut with Ellis, to induce him to remain constantly with Han-y, till his health should be perfectly re-established, if, indeed, that happy event was ever destined to occur. As Sir John's liberality was unbounded, and Ellis's professional prospects rather hazy— his practice at Harley End Wmg chiefly confined to the veiy poor, who went on the advice jjratis system, and exjjected to have medicine given them into the bargain— the negotiation was soon concluded to the satisfaction of both parties. Towards evening Harry became more restless; the pain of his wound increased, and feverish symptoms began to make their appear- ance. As the night advanced he grew delirious, and before morning was in a high state of fever. For many days his life was despaired of. Ellis never left his bedside, save to snatch an occasional hour's sleep on a sofa, when I took his place. Sir Benjamin Brodie was summoned from town, and held a consultation with Dr. Probehurt and Ellis. Sir John's gi-ief was something fearful to witness. Although naturally a strong-minded man, this unlooked-for blow and the sub- sequent anxiety had completely unnerved him. At times he would cry like a child ; at others he would sit for hours without opening his lips, his head resting dejectedly on his hands, the image of despair : he could with diflBculty be prevailed upon to take suflBcient nourish- ment for his support, and appeared scarcely to notice anything that was going on. On these occasions Fanny was the only person whose influence was of the slightest avail ; with her own hands she would prepare some delicacy of which she knew he was fond, and when with a melancholy shake of the head he rejected it, she would seat herself at his feet, and taking his hand within her own, whisper kind words of hope and consolation to him, tiU the old man's heart was softened, and he could refuse her nothing. Sometimes even this failed, and then she would begin singing in a low sweet voice some plaintive, simple air that he lovedlto hear, till the tears would steal down his , grief -worn cheeks, and, laying his hand upon her fair yoimg brow, he would.bless her, and say that the God who was about to take his noble son from him had sent an angel to be a daughter to him in his stead. And so the weary days woi-e on — still vibrating between life and death, the strong man, his matchless powers now reduced to the weakness of infancy, lay stretched upon the couch of suffering, whence it appeared too probable that he might never be removed, save to the last sad resting-place of frail humanity — the grave. About the eighth day the ligature with which Ellis had tied the artei-y came away, and the wound assumed a i-ather more favourable appearance, but the fever remained unsubdued, and the delirium con- tinued. Each day which passed without improvement added to the length of Dr. Probehurt's solemn \'isage, and I could see that in his own mind he had little or no hope of the patient's recovery. Ellis was by far the most sangtiine of the party, and, whenever we urged our FRANK FAIRLEGH 189 gloomy forebodings upon him, invariably replied, " Yes, I know all that ; it would have killed any other man, but it won't kill him. Wait a bit, and you'll see." A fortnight had now elapsed, and the continued burden of his grief began to tell visibly upon Sir John. The i-uddy hue of health faded from his cheeks ; his eyes grew dim with weeping, his hands shook, and his fii-m, manly step became feeble and uncertain : it seemed as if in that short space of time he had gi-own ten years older. My mother also began to look ill and harassed, and Fanny, though she still kept up wonderfully, and was the life and soul of us all, waxed paler and thinner every day, while for my own part, I could neither eat, drink, nor sleep to any eflficient pui-pose, and divided my time between watching in the sick-room, and pacing up and down the garden, beyond the precincts of which I never ventured, from a neiTous dread lest anything might go wrong in my absence. On one occasion Ellis, completely wearied out, had thrown himself on a sofa to snatch an hour's repose, while I took his place by HaiTy's bedside. It was between two and three o'clock in the morning, and the first rays of early dawn, stealing in through the partially closed shutters, and mingling with the faint glimmer of the night-lamp, threw a pale and ghastly light over the suiTOimding objects, when I fancied that I heard my name pronounced in a low, scarcely audible voice. I glanced at Ellis, but his hard and regular breathing proved him to be soimd asleep. I next tm-ned towards the bed where HaiTy lay, and carefully shading the lamp with my hand, advanced with noiseless step towards it. As I approached, I perceived the patient's eyes were open, and, oh, happiness ! once more animated with the mild light of reason. " Harry," whispered I, " did you call ? Do you know me ? " A faint smile passed across his pallid features as he replied in a voice so low and weak that I was obliged to stoop my head almost to a level with his lips, ere I could catch his words : " Know you, dear Frank ! why not ? " " Thank heaven," murmured I, " he is no longer delii'ious ! " As I again turned towards him, he endeavoured to stretch out his hand to me, but his strength was imequal even to that slight exertion, and his arm dropped heavily by his side ; as it did so he spoke again : *' Frank, what is all this ? I cannot — I am vei-y weak — very tired." " Lie still, deal- Harry, and do not try to talk— it may do you hai-m. You have been very ill, but God in His mercy will soon, I trust, restore you to health." I then crossed over to Ellis's sofa, and laid my hand lightly upon his shoulder. " Oaklands is no longer delirious," said I, as he started up ; "he knows me, and has spoken to me." " Is he P — does he ? — has he ? " exclaimed Ellis, in an eager whisper. " I told you it would never kill him. Why didn't you call me before ? but it's always the way : if I do by any chance fall asleep once in a week, there isn't another head properly so called in the whole house, 190 FRANK FAIRLEGH they might as well be chair nobs— yes, I know," he continued, as I attempted to get in a word of explanation, '* if you couldn't wake me before it happened, that doesn't prevent your giving me the medicine- chest now, does it ? " I may as well take this opportunity of mentioning that Ellis, though in the main one of the best-tempered fellows in the world, whenever he "was particularly interested or excited, became extremely cross and snappish, and was certain at such times to scold everyone who fell in his way, without the slig-htest regard to age, sex, or station. How- ever, it was always over in two or three minutes, and I have seen him laugh till the tears i*an down his face, when the iiide things he had said were repeated to him afterwards. While he was staying with his brother at Cambridge, it used to be a favourite amusement with some of the men to start a subject which they knew would excite him, for the sake of " getting a rise out of the doctor," as they termed it. But I am digressing. The medicine EUis gave Han-y thi-ew him into a heavy sleep, from which he did not awake until late in the morning, when he appeared perfectly conscious. The fever had in great measui-e abated, and on Dr. Probehurt's arrival he was fain to confess a surprising improve- ment had taken place, and that, if not positively out of danger, the patient was in a fair way to become so. As for EUis, he was exactly like one beside himself. He ran all over the house — into bed- rooms and all sorts of places whei-e he had not the slightest business, shaking hands with everyone, and repeating, " I knew it — I knew it — I always told you so — it would have killed any other man, but it couldn't kill him ! " Let us i^ass in silence over the first intei"view between Sir John Oaklands and his son. There are some of the deeper feelings of our nature, planted in our bosoms by the hand of God Himself, which, •when called forth to their fullest extent by the chances of life, i-eveal so clearly their Divine oi-igin, that those who witness theii* display stand reverently by and, with throbbing hearts and averted eyes, bow the head as in presence of some holy thing ; and if such pure and sacred influences shed their lustre over that meeting, and the old man ■wept tears of deep and fervent thankfulness on the neck of the son whom he had, as it were, received from the dead, far be it from us, •with sacrilegious hand, to remove the veD which shrouds the hallowed mysteries of feeling. From that day Oaklands began to amend slowly, and at the end of another week even the cautious Dr. Probehm-t declared all immediate danger was over ; for which admission, however, he took care fully to indemnify himself, by detailing at length every possible evil -which might accrue for the futtu-e. The state of weakness to which Harry's once herculean frame was reduced was melancholy to witness ; for many days he was unable to turn in his bed without assistance, and even when he began to recover his strength, it was by very slow and lingering degrees. Utterly imable to support himself, he was lifted FRANK FAIRLEGH 191 from his bed to a sofa, and wheeled into the di-a\nng-room, where all our powers of entertainment were called into requisition to relieve the monotony of such a state of existence. In doing this, Fanny made herself pre-eminently useful ; by a sort of intuition she appeared to divine everything he could possibly want before he asked for it, and contrived to have it waiting his pleasure as if by magic ; and yet it was done so quietly, that I believe Hany hadnot a notion to whom he was indebted for the forestalment of his every wish. Did his lips appear parched and dry from the low fever which still hung about him — unobserved by anyone, Fanny would glide out of the room, and in another minute his servant would enter with a tray, containing jelly, lemonade, or some refreshment of a like nature ; and Hany would say, with a languid smile, that the fairies must have been at work, for that Wilson had brought him the veiy thing he was wishing for. As he gi-ew stronger, and required less attention, I yielded to his request, and once more resumed my studies, reading doubly hard in order to make up for lost time. The duel had taken place early in June, but it was not until the latter end of August that the surgeons could allow of their patient's removal to the Hall. Under EUis's directions a kind of litter was prepared, drawn by a stout Shetland pony, and himg upon a complicated ai-rangement of springs, by which means all possibility of jolting was avoided. With the assistance of this vehicle. Han-y was enabled to take shoi-t airings in the park, and when it was found that no ill effects ensued, a fine day was chosen, and Heathfield Hall flung wide its ample gates to receive once more within its walls the heir of that noble property. It was a glad day for everyone — the old seiwants shed mingled tears of joy and son'ow ; of joy that their young master had been spared to come among them again, and of sorrow when they gazed on his pallid cheeks and long thin hands, and thought of the amount of suffering that manly frame must have undergone, ere it could have become such a wreck of its former self. After his return home, Oaklands progressed vei"y slowly ; he so far recovered as to walk about the house and garden with the assistance of Ellis's aiTU ; but the wound in his side still presented an unsatis- factory appearance, and obstinately refused to heal. Ellis's skill and attention were unparalleled ; he took the greatest interest in the case, and though he pretended that his zeal was entirely professional, yet it was clear the fascination which Hany seemed unconsciously to exercise over everyone who became intimate vrith. him, had subdued even the sturdy doctor, and that he had conceived the strongest affection for his patient. The only one of the party on whom the fatigue and anxiety appeared to have produced any lasting effect was dear little Fanny, and she continued to look much more pale and thin than I liked to see her. Her spirits, also, seemed less gay and buoyant than usual, and when Sir John and Hany left us, and she had no longer any motive for exertion, a kind of languor came over hei', producing a listless 192 FRANK FAIRLEGH distaste for all her former employments ; and she would sit for hours poui-ing over one of the Italian poets, without exchanpinj? a word with anyone. In order, if possible, to rouse her from this state of uijathy, I used eveiT^ means in my power to interest and amuse her ; but imfor- tunately, my time was now so fully occupied that I had little leisure to bestow upon her. I was to take my degree at the commencement of the new year ; and as I had made up my mind to try for honours, I had not a moment to lose, and read eisrht houi-s a day. The rest of my time was devoted to Sir John and Han-y (save an odd hour or two for a constitutional scamper vrith my fran through the preserves to keep down the rabbits, or a gallop across country, to prevent the hunters from getting too fat), and our kind friends were never so pleased as when they could persuade us all to come to them. My sister, how- ever, seemed to prefer dreaming over her book to the exertion of accompanying us to the Hall, and even when she did so, appeared unequal to the labour of amusing Hari-j'. and devoted herself to the more easy task of pleasing Sir Jolm, who, happy beyond expression in the prospect of his son's recovei-y, was in the highest good-humom- with everybody and eveiything. Becoming at length far from satisfied about Fanny, I mentioned my uneasiness to my mother, who comforted me by the assm-ance that she considered it merely the natural consequences of the fatigue and anxiety she had undergone, a sort of reaction of the spirits, for which time and rest would prove the most effectual cure. And once again the leaves upon the trees grew brown, presenting, in their vai'ied richness, those exquisite shades of colouring that gladden a painter's eye — and the swallows, those summer parasites, taking alarm at the fii'st sharp blast from the north, had departed to pi'osecute their annual pursuit of sunshine under difficulties, lea^^ng the honest robin redbreast to renew liis friendship with the race of men — when I, dissatisfied and anxious about those I was leaving behind me, and nei'vous in the highest degree as to the result of the stnaggle for distinction in which I was about to engage, once more took up my abode at Tiinity. FRANK FAIRLEGH 193 CHAPTER XXIX. THE 8TEUGGLE IN CHESTEETON MEADOW. "Men Put forth their sons to seek preferment out. Some to the studious universities, For any or for all these exercises." " Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you ; If not, we'll make yon sit, and rifle you." " A rescue ! a rescue ! Grood people bring a rescue or two ! " " Construe me, art thou a gentleman ? What is thy name ? Discuss I " Shake$piare, Having now no one to interfere with me I determined to read as hard as my powers, mental and bodily, wo\ild allow, so as to give my talents, be they great or small, iwh scope, and endeavour to e^^nce my gratitude to my imknown benefactor in the only manner that lay open to me, i.e. by proving to him thiit his liberality had not been thrown away. As the men began to come up, I took cai'e to let it be generally known among my friends that I was reading steadily and in earnest, with a view of going out in honours ; and when they became convinced that this was the case, and that whenever I " sported oak " there was jjositively " no admittance," they left me to my fate, as one who, in the words of Lawless, " ha\'ing sti-ayed from the paths of virtue and — eh ! what do you call it P— jollity — had fallen a \'ictim to the vice of mathematics : not a hope of recovery — a regular case of hydi'ostatics on the brain — eh ! don't you see ? " Besides the regular college tutor, I secm*ed the assistance of what, in the slang of the day, we irreverently termed "a coach," which vehicle, for the conveyance of heavy learning (from himself to his pupils), consisted of a gentleman, who but a few years older than those whom he taught, possessed more practical knowledge, and a greater aptitude for the highest scientific research, than it had ever before been my fate to meet with combined in any one individual. Under his able tuition I advanced rapidly, and reading men began to look upon me as a somewhat formidable rival. Several of my opponents, however, were men of first-rate talent, whose powers of mind, as I could not for a moment disguise from myself, were infinitely superior to my own, and with whom my only chance of competing success- fully would be by the exercise of indefatigable perseverance and industry. Daylight, therefore (which at this season did not make its appearance over early), found me book in hand, and midnight saw me still seated at my desk — sometimes with a wet towel bound round my head to cool the thi'obbing of my heated brow ; at 9ther8, with a teapot of sti-ong green tea by my side, to arouse and stimulate 194 FRANK FAIRLEGH my wearied faculties ; conventional specifics, of which, by the way, I very quickly discovered the fallacy. A fear of completely knocking up, however, induced me to preserve some little method in my madness. I laid down a nile to walk for a couple of hours every day, and thus, althougrh I grew pale and tliin, no very dangerous effects appeared likely to ensue from my exer- tions. One evening, about a week before the examinations were to begin, I was taking my usual constitutional after Hall ; and, careless which way I turned my steps, crossed the river at Moore's, and followed the footpath which led over the fields to the village of Chesterton. There had been a cattle fair at some place in the neighbourhood, which had drawn together a number of disreputable characters, and in the course of my walk, I passed two or three parties of rather suspicious-looking men. Ha^ning nothing valuable about me, how- ever, I continued my walk. I had advanced some half-mile or more when I was aroused from my meditations by a cry of " Thieves ! thieves ! help ! hoy ! thieves. I say ! " accompanied by the noise of blows. "When these sounds first reached me I was close to a hedge and stile, across which the footpath led, and from the farther side of which the cries proceeded. It was gi-owing dark, but there still remained light enough to distinguish objects at a modei-ate distance. To bound over the stile and cast my eyes around was the work of a moment, nor was I much longer in taking part in an affray which was going on. The person whose cries I had heard was a stout little man, respectably dressed, who was defending himself \'igorously with what seemed in the twilight a club, but which turned out eventually to be an umbrella, against the attacks of a tall, stra])ping fellow, in a rough frieze coat, who was endeavouring to wi-est his weapon from him. A still more formidable adversai-y was, however, approaching in the shape of a second ruffian, who had armed himself with a thick stake out of the hedge, and was creeping cautiously up behind the shoi^ter man, with the evident intention of knocking him on the head. I , instantly determined to frustrate his benevolent design, nor was there much time to lose, if I wished my assistance to prove of much avail. Shouting, therefore, as well to intimidate the scoundi-els as to let the person attacked know that there was succour at hand, I sprang upon the man who held the cudgel, and seizing his uplifted arm, succeeded in averting the coming blow from the head of the intended victim, who, ignorant of the impending danger, was making most furious thrusts at his assailant with the jsoint of his umbrella, a novel mode of attack, which seemed to perplex and annoy that individual in no small degree. I had, however, but little time allowed me to make observations, as the fellow with whom I had interfered, as soon as he perceived that he had only an unarmed man to deal with, appeared detennined not to give up his hopes of plunder without a struggle, and freeing his FRANK FAIRLEGH 195 wrist by a powerful jerk, lie aimed a blow at me with the bludgeon. which, had it taken effect, would at once have ended all my anxieties. and brought this vei-acious history to an abrupt and untimely conclusion. Fortunately, however, for " my gentle public" and their humble servant. I was able, by dodging on one side, to avoid the stroke ; and seeing that matters had now become serious, I closed with him, and, after a short but severe struggle, had the satisfaction of depositing him flat on his back on the greensward. As he fell he dropped his stick, of which I immediately possessed myself, and planting my foot upon his chest to prevent his rising, I turned to see how the other combatants were getting on. Dame Fortune had not, in this instance, acted up to her usual principle of favouring the bi*ave. for the hero of the umbrella, having straggled gallantly for the preservation of his property and person, had apparently at length been overpowered, and, when I tm-ned towards him, was lying on the ground, while his assailant was endeavouiing to rifle his pockets, a matter which was rendered anything but easy of accomplishment by reason of the energetic kicks and struggles of the fallen wanior. It was clear that if I would not have the unfortunate little man robbed before my very eyes, I must go to his assistance. Giving, therefore, my prostrate foe a tap on the head with the stake, by way of a hint to lie still. I advanced to the rescue with uplifted weapon. No sooner did the rascal perceive my approach, than, quitting the fallen man, he sprang up and without waiting to be attacked, took to his heels and ran off as fast as his legs would cany him, an example which his companion, seeing the coast clear, hastened to emulate. My first act. as soon as the thieves had departed, was to assist the old gentleman to rise. As soon as he was on his legs again he shook himself, as if to ascertain that he was uninjured, and exclaimed, — " Umph I they're gone, are they ? the scoundi-els, high time they should, I think ; where's my umbrella ? umph ! second I've lost this year — just like me." The voice, the manner, but, above aU, the emphatic grunts and the final self -accusing soliloquy, " just like me," could proceed but from one person, my old Helmstone acquaintance. Mr. Frampton ; though by what strange chance he should be found wandering by owl-light in a meadow near Cambridge passed my comprehension to cunceive. Feeling secure from the alteration which had taken place in me since I had last seen him— an alteration rendered still more complete by my academical costume — that he would be \inable to recognize me, I determined to amuse myself a little at his expense before I made myself known to him. In pm-suance of this plan I picked up his umbrella and handed it to him, saying in an assumed voice, as I did so, " Here is your umbrella, su-." " Thank ye, young man, thank ye— cost five-and-twenty shillings last Friday week ; umph ! might have got a cotton one for less than one quarter of the money, that would have done just a^ well to thump thieves with — a fool and his money — just like me, umph ! " 19(5 FRANK FAIRLEGH " I hope you are not injured by your fall, or by the rough treat- ment you have been subjected to ? " inquired I. " Umph ! injured P " was the reply ; " I've prot a gi-eat bump on the back of my head, and burst all the buttons off my -waistcoat— I don't know whether you call that being injm-ed ; but I can tell you I got away from the Thugs at Strangleabad without any such mjuries : umph ! " " It was fortimate that I happened to come up just when I did," obseiwed I. " Umph ! glad you think so," was the answer ; " if that stick had come down upon your skull, as the blackguard meant it to do, you would not have found it quite so fortunate, I've a notion. Umph ! all the same, I'm much obliged to you ; I might have been robbed and murdered too, if it had not been for you, yoimg man, and if you'll walk home with me to the Hoop — there's a name for an inn !— I'll give you a couple of sovereigns, and that's more than you've earned before to-day, I'll be bound— umph ! " " I shall be delighted to see you safe home, sir, but you will excuse my declining your pecuniai-y offer, though I must plead guilty to the charge of not having earned as much— I l>elieve I might say, in my whole life before." "Umph ! I see— a gentleman, eh ? and I to offer him money— just like me— a lord or a duke, I shouldn't wonder — there are all sorts and sizes of 'em here, they tell me— ask him to dinner. Umph ! perhaps you'll do me the honour of dining with me, yoimg man— my lord, I mean,— midligatawny — cat smothered in rice, which they call curry — kibobs and kickshaws— the cook is not so bad for a white ; but you should go to India if you care about eating — that's the place for cookery, sir." " I shall have much pleasure in accepting your invitation," replied I, " if you will allow me to run away directly after dinner: I am reading for my degree, and time is precious with me just now." " Umph ! so it should be always. I see, now I come to look at you, you are one of the cap and gown gentlemen." (Then came an aside : " Cap, indeed ! it's a fool's cap would fit one half of 'em best ! ") " Pray, may I ask what college you belong to, Mr. ? " " Legh is my name, sir— Legh of Trinity." " Umph ! Trinity ; just the man I wanted to get hold of. My name's Frampton, Mr. Lee : they know me well at the India House, sir. When we've had a bit of dinner, and washed this homd fog out of cm* throats with a few glasses of wine, I shaU be glad to ask you a question or two. Umph ! " " Any infomiation it may be in my power to afford you — " I began, " That'll do, sir, that'll do," was the reply. " Perhaps you won't be quite so ready when you hear what it is I want." Then, in an under- tone : " Tell me a parcel of lies, most likely ; I know how these young scamps hang by one another, and think it high fun ' to do the governor,' as they call it. Umph ! " FRANK FAIRLEGH 197 On our aiTival at the Hoop, we were ushered into one of the best sitting-rooms the inn afforded, where a blazing fire soon effaced all traces of the wet-blanket-like fog in which we had been so lately enveloped. I was shown into a comfortable di*essing-room to get ready for dinner, an opportunity of which I availed myself to render my appeai-ance as unlike what it had been in former days as circum- stances would allow, before again subjecting myself to Mr. Frampton's scnatiny. For this purpose, I combed my hair back from my face as far as possible, and brushed my whiskers — an acquisition of which I had only lately become possessed — as prominently forward as the gi'owth of the crop pennitted. I poked my shirt-collar entirely out of sight, and tied my black neckcloth stiffly up imder my chin, and finally buttoned my coat, so as to show off the breadth of my chest and shoulders to the greatest advantage. Thus accoutred, and drawing myself up to my full height, I hastened to rejoin Mr. Fi-ampton. My arrangements seemed thoroughly to have answered then- pm-pose, for he gazed at me without evincing the slightest symptom of recognition. He shook me by the hand, however, and thanked me more cordially than he had yet done for the assistance rendered him, and then rang for dinner. The bill of fare embraced all the Asiatic luxuries he had enumerated, to which, on the strength of ha\'iug invited a guest, sundiy Em-opean dishes were added ; and with appetites sharpened by our recent adventures, we did full justice to the good cheer that was set before us. CHAPTER XXX. MB. frampton's introduction to a tiger. " Had I been seized by a hungry tiger, 1 should have been a breakfast to the beaat." Shakeijjeare. " He started Like one who sees a spectre, and exclaimed, Blind that I was to know him not till now ! " Southei/. " Go to, you are a counterfeit knave ! "Shaketpean, " I HOPE you feel no ill effects from your adventui-e, sir : you resisted the fellow's attack most spiritedly, and would have beaten him off, I believe, if you had possessed a more serviceable weapon than an umbrella," observed I to Mr. Frampton, as we di-ew oui- chairs to the fire after dinner. " Umph ! all right, sir, all right : a little stiff or so across the back. 198 FRAXK FAIRLEGH but not so bad as the tiger at Biindleapoor. I'm not as young as I used to be. and there's a difference between young men and old ones. Young men are all whalebone and whipcord, and it's nothing but hopping, skipping, and jumping with them all day long ; when you're turned of sixty-five, sir, the whalebone gets stiff, the whipcord wears out, the skip and jump take their departure, and the hop becomes an involuntary accompaniment to the rheumatism — confound it! Umph : " " Tou have been in India, I presume ; I think I heard you refer to some adventiu'e with a tiger," returned I. " I've been everyTvhere, sir — north, south, east, and west. I ran away from school at twelve years old, because the master chose to believe one of the ushers rather than me, and flogged me for lying when I had spoken the truth. I ran away, sir, and got aboard a ship that was bound for the East Indies, and for five-and-forty years I never saw the white cliffs of Old England ; and when I did return, I might as well have left it alone, for all who knew and cared for me were dead and gone — all dead and gone — dead and gone ! " he repeated, in a tone of sorro^vful earnestness. Then came an aside : " Umph ! wonder what I told him that for ; something for him to go and make fun of with other young scapegraces, instead of minding their books : just like me ! " " Tou must have seen many strange things, and met with various adventm-es worthy of note, in the course of yom' wanderings," remarked I. " I must have been a fool if I hadn't," was the answer. " P'rhaps you think I was — umph ! Toung folks always think old ones fools, they say." " Finish the adage, sir, that old folks know young ones to be so^ and then agree with me that it is a saying foimded on prejudice, and at variance with ti-uth." " Umph ! strong words, young gentleman, strong words I I wiU agi-ee with you so far, that there are old fools as well as young ones — old fools, who in their worldly wisdom stigmatize the generous impulses and warm affections of youth as folly, who may yet live to regret the feelings they have crushed, and the affections they have alienated, and find out that the things which they deemed folly may prove in the end the truest wisdom." Then came the soliloquy : " There I go again — just like me ! something else for him to laugh at ; don't think he will, though — seems a good lad — wish t'other boy may be like him — iimph I " He paused for a moment, and then observed abruptly, " Umph ! about that tiger at Bundleapoor. Tou call to-night's an adventure, sir : wonder what you'd have said if you'd been there ! " " As I was not, would it be asking too great a favour, if I request you to relate the anecdote ? " " Ay, boy, ay, I see you know how to come round an old traveller : set him gossiping about all the fine things he has seen and done in FRANK FAIRLEGH 199 liis younger days, and you "win Ids heart at once. Well, fill your glass. SU-, and -^ve'll see about it," was tlie reply. I obeyed, Mi-. Frampton followed my example, and after sipping his wine, and gninting several times to clear his throat, began the following recital : — " Umph ! ha ! let me recollect. When I was a young shaver, having lived in the world some twenty years or so, I was engaged as a sort of supernumerary clerk in the house of Wilson and Brown at Calcutta ; and, having no one else who could be so easily spared, they determined to despatch me on a business negotiation to one of the native princes, about eight hundi-ed miles up the country. I travelled with a party of the Dragoons, commanded by a Captain Slingsby, a man about five years older than myself, and as good a fellow as ever Hved. Well, somehow or other, he took a great fancy to me, and nothing would do but that I should accompany him in all his sporting expeditions — for I should teU you that he was a thorough sportsman, and, I believe, entertained some wild notion that he should be able to make one of me. One unfortunate morning he came into my tent, and woke me oiit of a soimd sleep into which I had faUen, after being kept awake half the night by the most diabolical howls and screams that ever were heard out of Bedlam, expecting every minute to see some of the perfonners step in to sup, not with, but upon me. " ' Come, Frampton, wake up, man I ' cried Slingsby ; ' here's great and glorious news.' " ' What is it ? ' said I — ' have they found another hamper of ale among the baggage ? ' " ' Ale I nonsense I ' was the reply. ' A shikkaree (native hunter) has just come into camp to say that a young bullock was carried off yesterday, and is lying half eaten in the jungle about la mile from this place ; so at last, my boy, I shall have the pleasure of introducing you to a real live tiger.' " ' Thank ye,' said I, ' you're very kind ; but if it's at all inconvenient to you this morning you can put it off : another day wiU do quite as well for me — I'm not in the least hurry.' " It was of no use, however ; all I got for my pains was a poke in the ribs, and an injunction to lose no time in getting ready. *' Before we had done breakfast the great man of the neighbour- hood, Rajah somebody or other, made his appearance on his elephant attended by a train of tawnies, who were to undertake the agreeable duty of beating. Not being considered fit to take care of myself — a melancholy fact of which I was only too conscious — it was decreed that Slingsby and I should occupy the same howdah. Accordingly, at the time appointed, we mounted our elephant ; and having a for- midable array of gvms handed up to us, we started. " As my companion, and, indeed, everyone else concerned in the matter, evidently considered it completely as a party of pleasure, and seemed prepared to enjoy themselves to the utmost, I endeavoured 200 FRANK FAIRLEGH to persuade myself that I did so too ; and, consoled by the reflection that if the tiger bad positively eaten half a bullock yesterday afternoon, it never could be worth his while to scale our elephant, and i-un the risk of being shot, for the sake of devouring me, I felt rather bold than otherwise. After proceeding for some distance through the jungle, and rousing, as it seemed to me, evei-y beast that had come out of Noah's Ark, except a tiger, our elephant, who had hithei-to conducted himself in a vei*y quiet and gentlemanly manner, suddenly raised his trunk, and tinimpeted several times— a sure sign, as the mahout informed us, that a tiger was somewhere close at hand. " ' Now then, Frampton,' cried my companion, cocking his double- bai-rel, ' look out ! ' " ' For squalls,' returned I, finishing the sentence for him. ' Pray, is there any particular part they like to be shot in ? whereabouts shall I aim ? ' " ' Wherever you can,' replied Slingsby ; ' be ready — there he is, by Jupiter ! ' and, as he spoke, the long grass about a himdred yards in front of us was gently agitated, and I caught a glimpse of what appeared a yeUow and black streak, moving swiftly away in an opposite direction. ' Tally-ho ! ' shouted Slingsby, saluting the tiger with both ban-els. An angry roar proved that the shots had taken eifect, and in another moment a large tiger, lashing his sides with his tail and his eyes glaring with rage, came bounding towards us. " ' Now what's to be done ? ' exclaimed I—' if you had but left him alone, he was going away as quietly as possible.' " Slingsby's only reply was a smile, and seizing another gun, he fired again. On receiving this shot the tiger stopped for a moment, and then, with a tremendous bound, sprang towards us, alighting at the foot of a small tree, not a yard from the elephant's head. " ' That last shot crippled him,' said my companion, ' or we should have had the pleasure of his nearer acquaintance. Now for the " coup de grace " — fire away ! ' and as he spoke he leaned forward to take a deliberate aim, when suddenly the front of the howdah gave way, and to my hoiTor Slingsby was precipitated over the elephant's head, into, as it seemed to me, the vei-y jaws of the tiger. A fierce growl and a suppressed cry of agony proved that the monster had seized his prey ; and I had completely given up my friend for lost, when the elephant, although greatly alarmed, being ui-ged on by the mahout, took a step forward, and twisting his tnmk round the top of the young tree, bent it down across the loins of the tiger, thus forcing the tortured animal to quit his hold, and affording Slingsby an opportunity of crawling beyond the reach of its teeth and claws. Forgetting my own fears in the imminence of my friend's danger, I only waited tiU I could get a shot at the tiger, without running the risk of hurting Slingsby, and then fired both barrels at its head, and was lucky enough to wound it mortally. The other sportsmen coming up at that moment, the brute received its quietus, but poor FRANK FAIRLEGH 201 Slingeby's arm was broken where the tiger had seized it with its teeth, and his shoulders and chest were severely lacerated by its claws, nor did he entirely recover the shock for many months.' And this was my fii-st introduction to a royal tiger, sir. I saw many of 'em aftei-wards, dm-ing the time I spent in India, but I can't say I ever had much liking for their society — umph I " This anecdote brought others in its train — minutes flew by apace, the wine grew low in the decanters, and it became apparent to me that if I would not lose the whole evening, and go home with my brains muddled beyond aU possibility of reading, I must take my departui-e. Accordingly, pulling out my watch, I reminded Mr. Frampton of my previous stipulation to be allowed to run away as soon as dinner was concluded, adding that I had already stayed longer than was altogether pi-udent. The reply to this announce- ment was, " Umph ! sit still, sir, sit still ; I'm going to ring for another bottle of port." Finding, however, that I was determined, he gave up the point, adding : " Umph ! well, if you must go, you must, I suppose— though you might refuse a worse offer ; but, if you really ai-e anxious about yom' studies and -nash to distinguish yourself, I won't be the man to hinder you — it's few enough of 'em are like you here, I expect ; " then, sotto voce, " Wish t'other yoimg monkey might be." " You hinted before dinner at some information I might be able to give you ? " said I, inteiTOgatively. " Umph ! did I ? — ay, so I did — you see, Mr. Lee, there's a young feUow at Trinity, about yom- age I should fancy, whom I used to know as a boy — and — he was a very good boy— and — and — his mother's a widow ; poor thing — a very nice boy, I may say, he was — and as I feel a sort of interest about him I thought that you might, perhaps, give one an idea of how he's going on — just a notion — you understand — umph I " " Exactly, sir," returned I, " and what may be the name of your friend ? " " Frank Fairlegh," was the answer. " You could not have applied to a better person," replied I. *' Frank Fairlegh !— why, he was one of my most intimate friends." " Was— umph ! " " Why, yes, it's more was than is, certainly — for since I've been reading hard, it's a positive fact that I've scarcely seen his face." " That looks as if he wasn't over-fond of reading, then, eh ? — umph ! " " You may put that interpretation upon it, certainly," replied I, " but mind, I don't say it's the true one. I consider it would not be right in me to tell tales out of school ; besides, there's nothing to tell — everybody knows Frank Fairlegh's a good fellow — ask Lawless — ask Curtis." ' The main facts of the foreffoing anecdote are taken from Capt. Mfmdy's very nteresting " Pen and Pencil Sketches." 202 FR4NK FAIRLEGH " Umph ! Lawless ? what ? that wild young scamp who goes tear- ing about the country in a tandem, as if a gig with one horse wasn't dangerous enough, without putting on a second to make the thing positively terrific ? he must be badly off for something to do if he can find no better amusement than trying how nearly he can break a fool's neck, without doing it quite ;— umph ! Curtis, why, that's the name of the young gentleman— very gentle— who, the landlord tells me, has just been rusticated for insulting Dr. Doublechin. and fastening a muzzle and chain on one of the men they call ' bull-dogs,' saying, forsooth, that it wasn't safe to let such ferocious animals go about loose— nice acquaintance Mr. Frank Fairlegh seems to choose, and you know the quotation, ' Noscitur a sociis.' " " Oh," replied I, " but he has others ; I have seen him in company with Mr. Wilford." " Wilford ? the noted duellist, that scoundrel who has lately shot the son of Sir John Oaklands, as fine a young man as ever I set eyes upon ?— f or I have often seen him when I was living at Helmstone ; if I thought, sir, that Fairlegh was a friend of that man— I'd— I'd— well, sir," he exclaimed, seeing my eyes fixed upon him with a degi-ee of interest I could not conceal, " it's nothing to you, I suppose, what I may intend to do by Mr. Frank Fairlegh ! I may be his grand- father for anything you can tell to the contrai-y ; and I may choose to cut him off with a shilling, I imagine, without its affecting you in any way — umph ! " " Scarcely so, Mr. Frampton," replied I, turning away to hide an irrepressible smile, " if it is in consequence of what I have told you that you are angry with poor Frank." " Angry, sir, angry "—was the answer—" I'm never angry— there's nothing worth being angry about in this world. Do you take snuff, sii- ? I've some that came from— umph ! eh ! " he continued, fumbling in all his pockets—" hope I haven't lost my box— given me by the Begum of Cuddleakee— splendid woman— only complexion too strong of the tawny— umph ! left it in the other room, I suppose— back in a moment, sir— umph ! umph ! " and suiting the action to the word, he went out, slamming the door behind him. As the reader may suppose, I was equally surprised and pleased to find that my old friend not only remembered our former intimacy, but felt so warm an interest in my welfare as to have put himself quite in a rage on hearing of my supposed delinquencies. Although it had been the means of eliciting such strong indications of his con- tinued regard for me, I felt half sony for the deception I had practised upon him— the only thing that could be done now, however, was to make myself known to him without delay, and his absence from the room enabled me to put in practice a plan for doing so which I had had in my mind aU along. Accordingly, going up to the chimney-glass I shook my hair forward, so that it fell in waving cui-ls about my face and forehead— took the stiffener out of my neckcloth, and, knotting the latter closely round my throat, turned down my FRANK FAIRLEGH 203 shirt-collar so as to resemble as neai-ly as possible the Bsron-tie of my boyhood — then imbuttoning and throwing open my coat I resumed my seat, an-anging the candles so as to throw the Hght fiill upon my face as I did so. I had scai-cely completed my an-angements when I heard Mr. Frampton's footstep in the passage, and in another moment he entered the room. " AH right, Mr. Lee, all nght, sii" ; I foimd the bos in my other coat-pocket ; I was afraid the thieves might have forestalled me ; but — umph ! — eh ! — why ? — who ? " Catching sight of me as he spoke, he stopped short, and shading his eyes with his hand, gazed earnestly at me, with a look half bewildered, half incredulous. Taking advantage of his silence I inquii-ed in my natm-al tone and manner whether he had seen Dr. Mildman lately. " Umph ! eh ! Dr. Mildman ? " was the reply—" why, it can't be — and yet it is— the boy Frank Fairlegh himself! Oh! you young villain ! " and completely overcome by the sudden and unexpected nature of the sm-prise he sank back into a chair, looking the picture of astonishment. Springing to his side, and pressing his hand warmly between my own, I exclaimed, " Forgive me for the trick I have played you, sir. I knew you the moment I heard yom- voice, when I was helping you up to-night, and, finding you did not recognize me, I could not resist the temptation of presennng my incognito a little longer, and intro- ducing myself as a stranger." " Oh, you young scapegrace ! " was the rejoinder, " if ever I forgive you, I'll— umph !— that I will "—then changing his tone to one of much feeling, he continued, " So you hadn't forgotten the old man, then, Frank ? good boy, good boy." I had seated myself on a stool at his feet, and as he spoke he patted my head with his hand, as if I had been a f avoui-ite dog. " And all the things you said against yourself were so many lies, I suppose ? Umph ! you are no fi-iend to the homicide Wilf ord ? " " True to the ear, but false to the sense, sir," replied I. " Han-y Oaklands is the dearest fi-iend I have on earth ; we love each other as brothers — between the man whose hand was so lately raised to shed that brother's blood and myself, there can be little friendship — if I do not positively hate him, it is only because I woidd not willingly hate anyone. Lawless was an old fellow-pupil of mine, and, though he has many follies about him, is at bottom more kind-hearted and well-disposed than people give him credit for; we still continue friends, therefore, but our habits and pursuits being essentially different, I see very little of him — with Cm-tis I never exchanged half a dozen words in my life." " Umph ! I understand, I imderstand ; and how is Harry Oaklands ? better again, eh ? " The reply to this query led to my being obliged to give Mr. Framp- ton a succinct account of the duel, and it was not till I explained my in- tention of trying for honours, and made him comprehend the necessity 204 FRANK FAIRLEGH of my being fully prepared for the ensuing examination, that he would hear of my departure ; and when at last he did allow me to go, he insisted on accompanying me to the gate of Trinity, and made me promise to let him see me as often as I was able dming his stay in Cambridge^ where, he informed me, he proposed remaining till after the degi'ees were conferred. CHAPTER XXXI. HOW I RISE A DEGREE, AND MR. FRAMPTON GETS ELEVATED IN MORE WATS THAN ONE. " This ia as strange a thing as e'er I looked on." The Tempest. " These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping spirits." Henri/ VI. " And liquor, likewise, will I give to thee. And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood." Henry V. The week passed away like a dream, and with a beating heart and throbbing pulse I went through the various examinations, and engaged with my competitors in the struggle for honours. Anxious in the highest degree as to the result of my labom-s, I scarcely ate, drank, or slept, and, had the necessity for exertion been protracted much longer, my mind cotild not have borne the continued strain, and I shoiild probably have had a brain fever. It was the eventful Friday morning on which the list was to come out, and in the covu'se of an houi" or two my fate would be known. Utterly worn out by a night which anxiety had rendered sleepless, I had hastily swallowed a cup of tea, and, turning away from the imtasted eatables, flung myself, wi'apped in a dressing-gown, on the sofa. I had not, however, lain, there above a quarter of an hour, when a tap was heard at the door, and Mr. Frampton made his appearance, attired as usual in the well- remembered blue coat with brass buttons, drab shorts, and gaiters, with the broad-brimmed hat, lined with green, fixed sturdily on his head, as if it was made to take off at any time. " Umph ! found my way up, you see ! Fellow you call the gyp wanted to make me believe you were out — thought I looked too like a governor to be let in, I suppose ; but it wouldn't do, sir : old birds are not to be caught with chaff ; and he spoke with an air of such intense honesty that I felt sure he was lying, and told him so. Don't get up, boy, don't get up ; you look as jaded as a hunted antelope. FRANK FAIRLEGH 205 Why, you've never touched your breakfast ; you'll kill yourself if you go on at this rate." " It will not last much longer, sir," said I ; "in about another hour or so my fate will be known. The list comes out this morning. Some of my friends were to call for me, and we were to make a party to go down to the Senate House together, for there is siu*e to be a crowd ; but I shall let them go without me, for I'm in such a state of nervous anxiety that I feel fit for nothing." " Umph ! I'll go with them if they've no objection," returned Mr. Frampton. " If I should happen to get knocked over in tbe scuffle, I shall want somebody to pick me up again. I shall like to see how near the tail of the list they stick your name, Frank — umph ! " At this moment the door was flung open, and Lawless, Archer, and one or two more men of my acquaintance came tumbling over one another into the room, laughing vociferously at some unknown jest. Owing to the shape of the apartment, the place where Mr. Frampton had seated himself was not easily to be seen as you entei'ed, con- sequently none of them observed him. " Fairlegh, old boy — " began Archer. " Eh ! here's such a tremendous go ! " broke in Lawless. " Where's the smelling-bottle ? Archer swears he has jiist seen the ghost of Noah's great-grandfather, as he appeared when di'essed in his Sunday clothes ! " " 'Pon my word, it's true, and what will you lay it's a lie ? " sang Archer. " Oh ! if you had but seen him, Fairlegh ; he looked like — hang me if I know anything ugly enough to compare him to." " Was he at all like me, sir P — umph ! " inquu-ed Mr. Frampton in his gruffest tone, putting on the broad-brimmed hat, rising slowly f x'om his seat as he spoke. *' The very appaiition itself, by Jingo ! " exclaimed Archer, start- ing back in alarm, half real, half affected, thereby nearly overturning Lawless, who was just behind him. " Hold hard there, young fellow ; where are you jibbing to ? You'll smash my panels in a minute, if you don't look out — eh ? — why, surely it's the old boy from Helmstone," continued Lawless, aside ; " Mr. Frampton — sir, your most obedient." " Same to you, sir," was the reply ; " glad to see your spirits don't seem likely to fail you, Mr. Lawless — laughing at me, aU of 'em, impudent young dogs — what's t'other one's name, Fx-ank, the one that took me for a ghost — umph ! " " AUow me to introduce you — Mr. Frampton, Mr. Archer, Mr. Green, Mr. Lacy, Mi-. Richards." The individuals named delivered themselves of a series of nods and jerks as I pronounced their various patronymic^, and Mr. Frampton took off his hat, and made a polite bow to each man separately ; then turning to Ai'cher, he said, — " Pray, sir, may I inquire when and how you became so intimate with Noah's great-grandfather as to mistake me for him — umph ! " 206 FRANK FAIRLEGH *• Well, sir," said Archer, who was evidently taken somewhat aback by this direct appeal, " it is an affair— that is. a circumstance— what I mean to say is— the thinsr, as you must see, was completely— in fact, it was quite by accident, and promiscuously, so to 8i)eak, that I mis- took you for the respectable antedilu\-ian— I should say, for his ghost." *• Umph ! don't think I look much like a ghost, either. Not that there are such things in reality ; all humbug, sir. A man goes and eats beef and pudding enough for two, has the nightmare, fancies next morning he has seen a ghost, and the first fool he tells it to believes him. Well, Mr. Lawless, not made a ghost of yourself by break- ing your neck out of that Infernal Machine of yours yet. Get his ex-majesty Louis Philippe to go out for a ride with you in that, and his life would be in greater danger than all the Fieschis in France could ever put it in. Umph ! " " The horses are in first-rate condition," returned Lawless, " enough to pull a fellow's anus off till they've done alx)ut ten miles ; that takes the steel out of them a bit. and then a child may guide them. Happy to take you a drive, Mr. Frampton, any time that suits you — eh ? " " Thank ye, sir, when the time comes I'll let you know; but I hope to live a few years longer yet, and therefore you'll excuse my not accepting yoiu- kind offer. Besides, if Mr. Ai-cher was to see the ghost of Noah's great-grandfather in a tandem, he'd never get over it." Then came the aside : '" Umph ! had him there, the young jackanapes." " Well, Fairlegh, are you coming with us ? " asked Lacy ; '" the list must be out by this time." " No ; 'pon my word I can't," replied I. " I'm good for nothing this morning." '' Serve you right, too,'' said Lawless. " for refusing the second bowl of punch last night. I told you no good would come of it, eh ? " " Positively we ought to l>e going," intei-posed Richards ; " we'll bring you some news presently, Faii-legh, that will set you all right again in no time." '■ I only wish you may prove a true prophet," replied I. " Umph ! if you'U allow me, I'U accompany you, gentlemen," said Mr. Frampton : " make one of yoiu" party, umph ! " Several of those thus appealed to exchanged glances of hon-or , and at last Archer, who was rather an exclusive, and pai-ticularly sensitive to ridicule, began. — " Why, really, sir, you must excuse — " " Umph ! excuse ? no excuses required, sir ; when you've lived as long as I have, you'll learn not to care in what company you sail so as it's honest company. Noah's gi-eat-grandfather found out the truth of that, sir. when he had to be hail-feUow-well-met with tiger-cats and hippopotamuses in the ark — hippopotami, I suppose V"' ^-"JJ-^-?~<^ ^ ]i^^M^//t^m!^ /^ _/^2£y FRANK FAIRLEGH 207 you classical men call it— though, now I come to think of it, he never was there at all. But you will let an old man go with you, there's good boys," continued Mr. Frampton in a tone of entreaty; "not one of you feels more interest in Frank Fairlegh's success than I do." " Come along, governor," exclaimed Lawless, taking him by the arm, " you and I will go together, and if anybody gets in your way. down he goes, if he were as big as Goliath of Gath. You shall see the list as soon as anyone of them, for you're a trump— a regular brick ! " "With a very odd tile on the top of it," whispered Archer, pointing to the broad brim. "Now, then," continued Lawless, "fall in there. Follow the governor. To the right about face ! March ! " So saying, he flung open the door, and arm-in-arm with Mr. Frampton hurried down the stairs, followed by the others in double- quick time. When they were all gone, I made an effort to rouse myself from the state of lassitude and depression into which I had fallen, and succeeded so far as to recover sufficient energy to attempt the labour of dressing, though my hands trembled to such a degi-ee that I could scarcely accomplish it, and was forced to postpone the operation of shaving to some more favourable oppoi-tunity. Having made my outer man respectable, I re-entered the sitting- room, and waited with impatience for the return of my friends. Oh ! the hoiTors of suspense ! that toothache of the mind, in which each moment of anxiety, stretched on the rack of expectation, appears to the overwrought senses an eternity of gnawing anguish!— of all the mental tortures with which I am acquainted, defend me from suspense 1 I had worked myself up into a thorough fever, and was becoming so excited that I was on the point of rushmg out to learn the worst at once, when sundry shouts, mingled with peals of laughter, reached my ear— sounds which assured me that news was at hand. And now, with the inconsistency of human nature, I trembled at and would willingly have delayed my friends' arrival, lest it might bring me the certainty of failure, to which even the doubt and suspense I had been so lately chafing at appeared preferable. The sounds grew louder and louder— they were approaching. Oh! how my heart beat! in another moment they would be here. Sinking into a chair, for my knees trembled so that I could scarcely stand, I remained with my eyes fixed upon the door in a state of breathless anxiety. More shouting ! surely that was a cheer— " Hurrah ! hurrah ! out of the way there ! room for the governor ! " —a rush of many feet up the stairs— more cheering— the door is thrown open, and a party of from fifteen to twenty undergraduates come pouring in, with Mr. Frampton in the midst of them, carried in triumph on the shoulders of Lawless and another man, and waving a list in one hand, and the broad-brimmed hat in the other. " Bravo, Fairlegh ; all right, old fellpw ! never say die ! hurrah ! " 208 FRANK FAIRLEGH exclaimed half a score voices all at once, while both my hands ■were seized and nearly shaken off, and I was almost annihilated by con- gratulatory slaps on the back from my zealous and excited friends. " Well," exclaimed I, as soon as I could make myself audible amidst the clamour, " I suppose by youi' congratulations I'm not plucked, but how high do I stand P " "Silence there!" shouted Lawless, "Order! order! hear the governor ; he's got the list. Fire away, sir." Thus appealed to, Mr. Fi-ampton, who .was still mounted on the shoulders of his supporters, having cleared his throat and grunted proudly, with an air of majesty read as follows : — " Rushbrooke, Senior Wrangler — Crosby, second — Barham, third— Fairlegh, fourth ! " " Nonsense," exclaimed I, springing up, " the thing's impossible ! " " What an unbelie\'ing Jew it is," said Archer ; " hand him the list and let him read it himself. Seeing is believing, they say." Yes, there it was, beyond the possibility of doubt ; with my own eyes did I behold it. " Fairlegh, fourth Wrangler ! " Why, even in my wildest moments of hope my imagination had never taken so high a flight. Fourth Wrangler ! oh ! it was too delightful to be real. So overcome was I by this vmexpected stroke of good fortune, that for a minute or two I was scarcely conscious of what was going on around me, and retimied rambling and incoherent answers to the congi'atulations which were showered upon me. The first thing that roiised my attention was a shout from Lawless, demanding a hearing, for that " the governor," as he persisted in calling Mr. Frampton, was going to make a speech. The ciy was immediately taken up by the others, who for some moments defeated their own purpose by calling vociferously foi " silence for the governor's speech ! " Having at length, from sheer want of breath, obtained the required boon, Mr. Frampton, waving his hand with a dignified gesture, began as follows : — " Umph ! on this happy occasion, gentlemen — set of noisy young scamps ! — on this happy occasion, 1 say, — (shouts of Encore ! Bravo ! &c.) — " what I was going to say was — umph ! " (a ciy of " You have said it," fi'om a man near the door, who thought he could not be seen, but was). " Much obliged to you, sir, for yotu* observation," continued Mr. Frampton, fixing his glance unmistakably on the Detected One, " but I have not said it, nor does it seem very likely I ever shall say it, if you continue to interrupt me with your wretched attempts at wit." (Cries of " Hear, hear ! don't inteiTupt the governor! Shame! shame! "and aside from Mi'. Frampton, " Had him there, umph ! " dming all of which the detected individual was striving to open the door which several men, who had perceived his design, held fiimly against him.) " What I was going to say," resiuned the speaker, " when that gentleman who is trying to leave the room inteiTupted me " (more cries of " Shame ! "), " was, that I beg, in the name of my friend. Frank Fairlegh, to invite you all to a FRANK FAIRLEGH 209 champagne breakfast in his rooms to-mon-ow " (tremendous cheering, and a cvj of " Bravo, governor ! you are a brick ! " from Lawless), " and in my own name to thank you aU, except the gentleman near the door, who has not yet, I see, had the gi-ace to leave the room, for the patience with which you've listened to me " (laughter, and cries of- " It was a shame to interrupt him," at which the Detected One, with a frantic gesture, gives up the door, and turning very pale, glances insanely towards the window), " and for the very flattering attentions which you have all of you generally, and Mr. Archer in particular, done me the honoui- of paying me." A perfect tornado of cheers and laughter followed Mr. Frampton's speech, after which I thanked them all for the kind interest they had expressed in my success, and begged to second Mr. Frampton's in%-ita*ion, for the following day. This matter being satisfactorily an-anged, ceitain of the party laid violent hands on the Detected One, who was a very shy freshman of the name of Pilkington, and, despite his struggles, made him go down on his knees and apologize in set phi-ase to Mr. Frampton for his late imjustifiable conduct; where- upon that gentleman, who enjoyed the joke and entered into it with as much zest as the veriest pickle among them, stei-nly, and with many grunts, rebuked and then pardoned him. The champagne breakfast on the following morning who shall describe ! What pen, albeit accustomed to the highest flights im- aginable, may venture to depict the humours of that memorable entertainment! How, when the company were assembled, it was discovered Mr. Pilkington was missing, and a party, headed by Lawless, proceeded to his rooms, which were on the same staii-case, and brought him down, " vi et armis," in a state of mind bordeiing on distraction, pictm-esquely attired in a dressing-gown, slippers, and smoking-cap, of a decidedly Oriental character; and how, when they had forced him into a seat of honom- at Mr. Frampton's right hand, that gentleman discovered in him a stiiking likeness to his particular friend the Rajah of Bundleoragbag, which name being instantly adopted by the company, he was invai-iably addressed by ever after. How, as the champagne circulated, the various members of the party began to come out strong, according to their several idiosyncrasies, every man who had a peculiarity exhibiting it for the benefit of the others; while those who had not were even more amusing, either from theii- aping the manners of somebody else, or from the sheer absurdity of uttering insipid commonplaces in such an atmosphere of fun and frolic. How, later in the day, after healths had been drunk, and thanks returned, till eveiy one, save Pilkington, was hoarse with shouting, that individual was partly coaxed, partly coerced iato attempting to sing the only song he knew, which proved to be "We met;" in which performance, after making four false starts, and causing a great many more meetings to take place than the author of the song ever contemplated, he contrived, in a voice suggestive of a sudden attack of cholera, to get as far as the words p 210 FRANK FAIRLEGH "For thou art the cause of this anguish, my mother," when he was interrupted by such a chorus of laughter as completely annihilated him for the rest of the day. How Mr. Frampton, without gi\ing the slightest warning of his intention, or there being anything in the subject of the conversation generally to lead thereunto, began to relate his adventure with the tiger of Bundleapoor ; while Lawless favoured the company with a full, tnie, and particvdar account of a sm-prising inin with the royal stag hounds ; and Archer, who had grown sentimental, with tears in his eyes, entered into a minute detail of certain passages in a romantic attachment he had conceived for a youthful female branch of the aristocracy, whom he designated as Lady Barbara B. ; and how these three gentlemen continued their vai-ious recitals all at one and the same time, edifying the company by some such composite style of dialogue as the following : — " So, sir, Slingsby roused me by a kick in the ribs, saying — umph ! " — " Fairest, loveliest of thy sex," — " Shove on your boots and buck- skins, stick a cigar in your mouth, and clap your leg over,"— "An elephant half as high again as this room ; take a couple of double- baiTclled rifles, and "— " Slap at everything that comes in yoiu- way ; no craning, ram in the pei'suaders, and if you do get a purl " — " Look upon it as the purest, brightest gem of your noble father's coronet, for true affection " — " Flung him clean into the tiger's jaws, sir, and the beast" — " Drew her handkerchief across her eyes, and said, with a voice which quivered with emotion, ' Love between two yovmg creatures, situated as we are, would be utter madness, Charles.' To which I replied, ' Bai'bara, my own sweet girl,' " — " Mind yom* eye, and look out for squalls, for that's a rasper, and no mistake." How all this took place, together with much more notable merri- ment, not many degrees removed from " tipsy mirth and jollity," we will leave to the fertile imagination of the reader to depict. Suffice it to say that, ere we broke up, Mr. Frampton had distinctly pledged himself to ride one of Lawless's horses the next hunting-day, and to accompany Archer on a three weeks' visit to the coimti-y seat of Lady Barbara B.'s noble father, with some ulterior views on his own account in reg ard to a younger sister. FRANK FAIRLEGH 211 CHAPTER XXXII. CATCHING SIGHT OF AN OLD FLAME, " Give me thy hand .... I'm glad to find thee here." The Lover's Melancholy. " Half light, half shade, She stood a sight to make an old man young." ITie Gardener's Daughter. TTtteely worn out, botli in mind and body, by bard reading and con- finement, I detennined to retxu-n to Heatbfield foi-tbwitb, with " all my blusbing honours thick upon me," and enjoy a few weeks' idleness before again engaging in any active course of study which might be necessai*y to fit me for my future profession. When the post came in, however, I received a couple of letters which rather militated against my intention of an immediate return home. A note from Han-y Oaklands informed me that having some weeks ago been ordered to a milder air, he and Sir John had chosen Clifton, their decision being influenced by the fact of an old and valued friend of Su' John's residing there. He begged me to let him hear all the Cambridge news, and hoped I should join him as soon as Mrs. Fair- legh and my sister would consent to part with me. For himself, he said, he felt somewhat stronger, but still suffered much from the woimd in his side. The second letter was from my mother, saying she had received an invitation from an old lady, a cousin of my father's, who resided in London, and, as she thought change of scene would do Fanny good, she had accepted it. She had been there already one week, and proposed returning at the end of the next, which she hoped would be soon enough to welcome me after the conclusion of my labours at the University. Unable to make up my mind whether to remain where I was for a week longer, or to return and await my mother's an-ival at the cottage, I thi'ew on my cap and gown and stroUed out, the fresh air appearing quite a luxury to me after having been shut up so long. As I passed through the street where old Maui-ice the pasti-ycook lived, I thought I would call and learn how Lizzie was going on, as I knew Harry would be anxious for infonnation on this point. On entering the shop, I was most cordially received by the young lady herself, who had by this time quite recovered her good looks, and on the present occasion appeared unusually gay and animated, which was soon accounted for when her father, drawing me aside, informed me that she was going to be married to a highly respectable young baker, who had long ago fallen a victim to her charms, and on whom she had of late deigned to take pity ; the severe lesson she had been taught 212 FRANK FAIRLEGH having induced her to overlook his intense respectability, high moral excellence, and round good-natured face— thi-ee strong disiiuali- fications, which had stood di-eadfully in his way when striving to render himself agreeable to the romantic Fornarina. I was answer- ing their inquiries after Oaklands, of whom they spoke in terms of the deepest gi-atitude, when a young fellow, wi-apped up in a rough pea-jacket, bustled into the shop, and, without perceiving me, accosted Lizzie as follows : — "Pray, young lady, can you inform me — what glorious buns !— where Mi*.— that is to say, which of these funny old edifices may happen to be Trinity College ? " On receiving the desired inforaiatiou, he continued. " Much obliged. I really must trouble you for another bun. Made by your own fair hands, I presume ? Tou see, I'm quite a stranger to this quaint old town of yours, where half the houses look like chm-ches, and all the men like parsons and clerks belonging to them, taking a walk in their canonicals, with four-cornered hats on their heads— abortive attempts to squai-e the circle, I conclude. Wonderfid things, veiy. But when I get to Trinity, how am I to find the man I want, one Mr. Frank Fairlegh ? " Here I took the liberty of interrupting the speaker, whom I had long since recognized as Coleman— though what could have brought him to Cambridge I was at a loss to conceive— by coming behind him, and saying, in a giniff voice, " I am sony you keep such low company, young man." " And pray who may you be that are so ready with yoiu- ' young man,' I should like to know ? I shall have to teach you something your tutors and dons seem to have forgotten, and that is. manners, fellow ! " exclaimed Freddy, turning rotmd with a face as red as a tm-key-cock, and not recognizing me at first in my cap and gown ; then looking at me steadily for a moment, he continued, " The very man himself, by all that's comical ! This is the way you read for your degree, is it ? " Then with a glance towards Lizzie Maurice, he sang : — " ' My only hooks Were women's looks. And folly aU they taught me." •* It's a Master of He-arts you're striving to become, I suppose ? " "Nonsense," replied I, quickly, for I saw poor Lizzie coloured and looked tmcomfortable ; " we don't allow bad puns to be made at Cambridge." " Then, faith ! unless the ' genius loci ' inspires me with good ones," returned Freddy, as we left the shop together, " the sooner I'm out of it the better." Ten minutes' conversation served to inform me that Fi'eddy, having been down to Bury St. Edmimds on business, had stopped at Cam- bridge on his way back in order to find me out, and, if possible, induce me to accompany him home to Hillingf ord, and spend a few days there. This arrangement suited my case exactly, as it nearly fijled FRANK FAIRLEGH 218 tip the space of time whicli must elapse before my mother's return, and I gladly accepted his invitation. In tirni, I pressed him to remain a day or two with me, and see the lions of Cambridge ; but it appeared that the mission on which he had been despatched was an important one, and would not brook delay ; he must therefore return at once to report progi-ess. As he could not stay with me, the most advisable thing seemed to be that I should go back with him. Returning, therefore, to my rooms, I set Freddy to work on some bread and cheese and ale, whilst I hastened to cram a portmanteau and carpet-bag with various indispensables. I then ran to the Hoop, and took an affectionate farewell of Mr. Frampton, makiag him promise to pay me a visit to Heathfield Cottage ; and, in less than two hours from the time Coleman had fii'st made his appearance, we were seated together on the roof of a stage-coach, and bowling along merrily towards Hillingford. Dxu-ing oui' drive, Coleman recounted to me his adventures in search of Cumberland, on the day preceding the duel, and gave me a more minute description than I had yet heard of the disreputable natui'e of that individual's pursuits. From what Coleman could learn, Cumberland, after having lost at the gaming-table large sxims of money, of which he had by some means contrived to obtain possession, had become connected with a gambling-house not far from St. James's Street, and was supposed to be one of its proprietors. Just before Coleman left town, there had been an " expose " of certain shameful proceedings which had taken place at this house — windows had been broken, and the police obliged to make a forcible entrance ; but Cumberland had as yet contrived to keep his name from appeai'- ing, although it was known that he was concerned in the afEair, and would be obliged to keep out of the way at present. " We shall take the old lady by surprise, I've a notion," said Freddy, as the coach set us down within ten minutes' walk of Elm Lodge. " I did not think I should have got the Biu^y St. Edmunds' job over till to-morrow, and wrote her word not to expect me till she saw me ; but she'll be glad enough to have somebody to enliven her, for the governor's in town, and Liacy Markham is gone to stay with one of her married sisters." " I hope I shall not cause any inconvenience, or annoy your mother." "Annoy my gi-andmother ! and she was dead before I was bom! " exclaimed Freddy disdainfully. " Why, bless your sensitive heart, nothing that I can do annoys my mother : if I chose to bring home a mad bull in fits, or haK-a- dozen young elephants with the hooping- cough she would not be annoyed." Thus assured, nothing remained for me but silent acquiescence, and in a few minutes we reached the house. *' Where's your misti-ess ? " inquii-ed Freddy of the manservant who shoAved us into the di'awing-room. " Upstairs, sir, I believe ; I'U send to let her know that you are arrived." " Do so," replied Coleman, making a vigorous attack up'on the fire. 214 FRANK FAIRLEGH "Why, Freddy, I thought you said your cousin was away from home P " inquired I. " So she is ; and what's more, she won't he back for a fortnight," was the answer. " Here's a young lady's bonnet, however," said I. " Nonsense," replied he ; " it must ))e one of my mother's." " Does Mrs. Coleman weai* such spicy affaii-s as this ?" said I, hold- ing up for his inspection a most piquant little velvet bonnet, lined w4th pink. " By Jove, no ! " was the reply ; " a mysterious young lady ! I say. Fi-ank, this is interesting." As he spoke, the door flew open, and Mrs. Coleman bustled in, in a gi'eat state of maternal affection, and fuss, and confusion, and agitation. " Wliy, Freddy, my dear boy, I'm delighted to see you, only I wish you hadn't come just now ; — and you too, LIi-. Fairlegh — and such a small loin of mutton for dinner ; but I'm so glad to see you — looking like a ghost, so pale and thin," she added, shaking me wanuly by the hand ; " but what am I to do about it, or to say to him when he comes back — only I'm not a prophet to gxiess things before they happen — and if I did I should always be wrong, so what use would that be, I should like to know ? " " Why, what's the row, eh, mother ; the cat hasn't kitten'd, has she ? " asked Freddy. " No, my dear, no, it's not that; but yom* father being in town, it has all come upon me so unexpectedly ; i)Oor thing, and she looking so pretty, too ; oh, dear ! when I said I was all alone, I never thought I shouldn't be ; and so he left her here." " And who may her be ? " inquired Freddy, setting grammar at defiance, " the cat or the governor ? " " Why, my love, it's very imlucky, veiy awkward, indeed ; but one comfoi't is we're told it's all for the best when eveiything goes wrong — a very great comfoi't that is if one could only believe it ; but poor Mr. Vemor, you see he was quite unhappy, I'm sure, he looked so cross, and no wonder, having to go up to London all in a huiTy, and^ such a cold day too." At the mention of this name, my attention, which had been gi-adually dying a natural death, suddenly revived, and it was with a degree of impatience, -which I could scarcely restrain, that I awaited the conclusion of Mrs. Coleman's rambling account. After a good deal of cii'cumlocution of which I will mercifully spare the reader the infliction, the following facts were elicited : About an horn- before oui' arrival, !Mr. Yemor, accompanied by his wai'd, had called to see Mr. Coleman, and finding he was from home, had asked for a few minutes' conversation -with the lady of the house. His reason for doing so soon appeared ; he had received letters requii-ing his imme- diate presence in London on business, which might probably detain him a day or two : and not liking to leave Miss Saville quite alone. -^ 7^ y^'-ry^^iiAshJi^ >/;%&/ ^ FRANK FAIRLEGH 215 he had called with the intention of begging Mrs. Coleman to allow her niece, Lucy Markham, to stay with her friend at Barstone Priory till his return, and to save her from the hoiTors of solitude. This plan being rendered impracticable by reason of Lucy's absence, Mrs. Coleman proposed that Miss Saville should remain with her till Mr. Yenior's return, which, she added, would be conferring a l^enefit on her, as her husband and son being both from home, she was sadly dull without a companion. This plan having removed aU difficulties, Mr. Yemor proceeded on his journey without further delay. Good Mrs. Coleman's agitation on our an'ival had been produced by the consciousness that Mr. Vemor would by no means approve of the addition of two dangerous young men to the party ; however, Freddy consoled her by the ingenious sophism that it was much better for us to have amved together than for him to have returned alone, as we should now neutralize each other's attractions ; and, while the young lady's pleasure in om- society would be doubled, she would be effectually guarded against falling in love with either of us, by I'easoa of the impossibility of her overlooking the equal merits of what Mrs. Coleman would probably have termed " the suiwivor." Having settled this knotty point to his own satisfaction, and pei-plexed his mother into the belief that our arrival was rather a foiiimate circumstance than otherwise, Freddy despatched her to break the glorious tidings, as he caUed it, to the young lady, cautioning her to do so carefully, and by degrees, for that joy was veiy often as dangerous in its effects as sorrow. Having closed the door l^ehind her, he relieved his feelings by a slight extempore hornpipe, and then, slapping me on the back, exclaimed, — " Here's a transcendent go; if this ain't taking the change out of old Vemor, I'm a Dutchman. Frank, you villain, you lucky dog, you've got it all your own way this time ; not a chance for me ; I may as well shut up shop at once, and buy myself a paii- of pumps to dance in at your wedding." '■ My dear fellow, how can you talk such utter nonsense ? " returned I, trying to persuade myself that I was not pleased, but annoyed, at his insinuations. " It's no nonsense. Master Frank, but, as I consider it, a very melancholy statement of facts. Why, even putting aside your ' antecedents,' as the French have it, the roasted wrist, the burnt baU-dress, and all the rest of it, look at your present advantages ; here you are, just retiuTied from the university covered with academical honours, your cheeks paled by deep and abstruse study over the midnight lamp ; your eyes flashing with imnatural lustre ; indicative of an ovei'wrought mind ; a graceful languor softening the nervous energy of your manner, and imparting additional tenderness to the fascination of your addi-ess ; in fact, till you begin to get into condition again you are the very beau ideal of what the women consider interesting and romantic." 216 FRANK FAIRLEGH " Well done. Freddy," replied I, " we shall discover a hidden vein of poetry in you some of these fine days ; but talking? of condition leads me to ask what time your good mother intends us to dine P " ■■ There, now you have spoilt it all," was the rejoinder ; " however, viewed abstractedly, and witho\;t reference to the romantic, it's not such a bad notion either. I'll rin? and inquire." He accordingly did so, and, finding we had not above half an hour to wait, he proposed that we should go to our dressing-rooms and adorn before we attempted to face " the enemy," as he rudely designated Miss Saville. It was not without a feeling of trepidation, for which I shotild have been at a loss to account, that I ventured to tuni the handle of the drawing-room door, where I expected to find the party assembled before dinner. Miss Saville, who was seated on a low chair by Mrs. Coleman's side, rose quietly on my entrance, and advanced a step or two to meet me, holding out her hand with the unembarrassed familiarity of an old acquaintance. The graceful ease of her manner at once restored my self-possession, and, taking her proffered hand, I expressed my pleasui'e at thus unexpectedly meeting her again. " You might have come here a hundred times without finding me, although Mrs. Coleman is kind enough to invite me vevj often," she replied. " But I seldom leave home ; Mr. Vemor always appears to dislike parting with me." " I can easily conceive that," returned I ; " nay, although, in common with your other friends, I am a sufferer by his monopoly, I can almost pardon him for yielding to so strong a temptation." " I wish I could flatter myself that the veiy complimentai-y con- struction yoii put upon it were the tnie one," replied Miss Saville, blushing slightly ; " but I am afraid I should be deceiving myself if I were to imagine my society were at all indispensable to my guardian. I believe if you were to question him on the subject you would learn that his system is based rather on the Tm-kish notion, that in order to keep a woman out of mischief, you must shut her Txp." " Really, Miss Saville," exclaimed Coleman, who had entered the room in time to overhear her speech, " I am shocked to find you comparing yoiu' respectable and revered guardian to a heathen Turk, and Frank Faii-legh, instead of reproving you for it, aiding, abetting, encouraging, and to speak figuratively, patting you on the back," " I'm sui-e, Freddy," intemipted Mrs. Coleman, who had been aroused from one of her customary fits of absence by the last few words, " Mr. Faii'legh was doing nothing of the sort ; he knows better than to think of such a thing. And if he didn't, do you suppose I should sit here and allow him to take such liberties ? But I believe it's all your nonsense — and where you got such strange ideas I'm sure I can't tell ; not out of Mrs. Trimmer's Sacred History, I'm certain, though you used to read it with me every FRANK FAIRLEGH 217 Sunday afternoon wlien yon were a good little boy, trjang to look out of the window all the time, instead of paying proper attention to your books." During the burst of laughter which followed this speech, and in which Miss Saville, after an ineffectual struggle to repress the inclination, out of respect to Mi's. Coleman, was fain to join, duiner was announced, and Coleman pairing off with the young lady, whilst I gave my arm to the old one, we proceeded to the dining- room. CHAPTER XXXIII. woman's a riddle, " Let mirth and music sound the dirge of care. But ask thou not if happiness be there." The Lord of fht Itles. " And here she came .... And sang to me the whole Of those three stanzas." The Talking Oak. " Yet tliis is also true, that, long before, My heart was like a prophet to my heart. And told me I should love." Tennyson. *' Don't you consider Fairlegh to be looking very thin and pale, Miss Saville ? " inquired Coleman, when we joined the ladies after dinner, speaking with an air of genuine solicitude, that any one not intimately acquainted with him must have imagined him in earnest. Miss SaviUe, who was completely taken in, answered innocently, " In- deed I have thought Mr. Fau-legh much altered since I had the pleasiu"e of meeting him before ; " then glancing at my face with a look of unfeigned interest, which sent the blood bounding rapidly through my veins, she continued : " Tou have not been ill, I hope ? " I was hastening to reply in the negative, and to enlighten her as to the real cause of my pale looks, when Coleman interrupted me by exclaiming, — " Ah ! poor feUow, it is a melancholy affair. In those pale cheeks, that wasted though still graceful form, and the weak, languid, and unhappy, but deeply interesting ' tout ensemble,' you perceive the sad residts of — am I at liberty to mention it ? — of an unfortimate attachment." " Upon my word, Freddy, you are too bad," exclaimed I, half 218 FRANK FAIRLEGH angrily, though I could scarcely refrain from i laughing, for the pathetic expression of his countenance was perfectly in-esistible. " Miss Sav-ille, I can assm-e you — let me beg of you to believe that there is not a word of tnith in what he has stated." " Wait a moment, youVe so dreadfully fast, my deai* fellow, you won't allow a man time to finish what he is saying," remonstrated my tormentor—" attachment to his studies, I was going to add, only you inteiTupted me." " I see I shall have to chastise you, before you leani to behave yoiu'self properly," replied I, shaking my fist at him plajrfully ; " remember you taught me how to use the gloves at Dr. Mildman's, and I have not quite forgotten the science even yet." " Hit a man your own size, you gi*eat big monster you," rejoined Coleman, affecting extreme alarm. " Miss Saville, I look to you to protect me from this tyi'anny ; ladies always take the pai-t of the weak and oppressed." " But they do not interfere to shield evil-doers from the punish- ment due to their misdemeanours," replied Miss Saville archly. " There now," gi-umbled Freddy, " that's always the way ; evei"y one turns against me. I'm a victim, though I've not formed an un- fortimate attachment for— anjrthing or anybody." " I should like to see you thorouglily in love for once in your life, Freddy," said I ; "it would be as good as a comedy." " Thank ye," was the rejoinder, " you'd be a pleasant sort of a fellow to make a confidant of, I don't think. Here's a man now, who calls himself one's friend, and fancies it would be ' as good as a comedy ' to witness the display of our noblest affections, and would have all the tenderest emotions of oui- nature laid bare, for him to poke fvm at — the barbarian ! " " I did not understand Mr. Fairlegh's remark to apply to ' affaires du coeur ' in general, but simply to the effects likely to be produced in your case by such an attack," observed Miss Sa'S'ille, with a quiet smile. "Avery proper distinction," returned I ; "I see that I cannot do better than leave my defence in your hands." " It is quite clear that you have both entered into a plot against me, rejoined Freddy; "well, never mind, 'meavirtute me involvo': I wrap myself in a proud consciousness of my own immeasui'able superiority, and despise your attacks." " I have read that to begin by despising youi- enemy is one of the sui-est methods of losing the battle," replied Miss Saville. " Oh ! if you are going to quote liistory against me, I yield at once — there is nothing alarms me so much as the sight of a blue-stock- ing," answered Freddy. Miss Saville proceeded to defend herself with much vivacity against this charge, and they continued to converse in the same light strain for some time longer; Coleman, as usual, being exceedingly di'oll and amusing, and the young lady displaying a FRANK FAIRLEGH 219 decided talent for delicate and playful badinage. In order to enter '■ con spirito " into this style of conversation,',-we must either be in the enjoyment of high health and spirits, when our light-heartedness finds a natural vent in gay raillery and sparkling repartee, or we must be suffering a sufficient degree of positive unhappiness to make us feel that a strong efEort is necessary to screen om- son'ow from the careless gaze of those aroimd us. Now, though Coleman had not been far wrong in describmg me as "weak, languid, and imhappy," mine was not a positive but a negative vmhappiness, a gentle sadness, which was rather agreeable than otherwise, and towards which I was by no means disposed to use the slightest violence. I was in the mood to have shed tears with the love-sick Ophelia, or to moralize with the melancholy Jaques, but should have considered Mercutio a man of no feeling, and the clown " a very poor fool" indeed. In this frame of mind, the conversation appeared to me to have assumed such an essentially frivolous turn, that I soon ceased to take any share in it, and turning over the leaves of a book of prints as an excuse for my silence, endeavoured to absti-act my thoughts. altogether from the scene around me, and employ them on some subject less dissonant to my present tone of feeling. As is usually the result in such cases, the attempt proved a dead faUm-e, and I soon foimd myself speculating on the lightness and frivolity of women in general, and of Clara Sa\'ille in particular. " How thoroughly absurd and misplaced," thought I, as her silvery laugh rang harshly on my distempered ear, " were all my conjectui-es that she was unhappy, and that, in the trustful and earnest expression of those deep blue eyes, I could read the evidence of a secret grief, and a tacit appeal for sympathy to those whom her instinct taught her were worthy of her trust and confidence ! Ah ! well, I was young and foolish then (it was not quite a year and a half ago), and imagination foimd an easy dupe in me; one learns to see things in their true light as one grows older, but it is sad how the doing so robs life of all its brightest illusions." It did not occm- to me at that moment that there was a slight injustice in accusing Tiaith of petty larceny in regard to a bright illusion in the present instance, as the fact (if fact it were) of proving that Miss Sa^•ille was happy instead of miserable could scarcely be reckoned among that class of offences. " Come, Freddy," exclaimed Mrs. Coleman, suddenly waking up to a sense of duty out of a dangerous little nap in which she had been indulging, and which occasioned me great uneasiness, by reason of the opportunity it afforded her for the display of an alarming suicidal propensity, which threatened to leave Mr. , Coleman a dis- consolate widower, and Freddy motherless. As a warning to all somnolent old ladies, it may not be amiss to enter a little more fully into detail. The attack commenced by her sitting bolt upright in her chair, with her eyes so very particularly open, that it seemed as if, in her case, Macbeth or some oth^r wonder- 220 FRANK FAIRLEGH worker had effectually "murdered sleep." By slow decrees, how. ever, her eyelids began to close ; she grew less and less " wide awake," and ere long was fast as a church ; her next move was to nod complacently to the company in general, as if to demand their attention : she then oscillated gently to and fro for a few seconds to get up the steam, and concluded the performance hy suddenly flinging her head back, with an insane jerk, over the rail of the chair, at the imminent risk of breaking her neck, uttering a loud snort of triumph as she did so. Ti-usting the reader will pardon, and the humane society award me a medal for this digression, I resume the thread of my naiTative. " Freddy, my dear, can't you sing us that droll Italian song your cousin Lucy taught you ? I'm sure poor Miss Saville must feel quite dull and melancholy." " Would to Heaven she did ! " murmured I to myself. " Who is to play it for me ? " asked Coleman. " Well, my love, I'll do my >jest." replied his mother ; " and. if I should make a few mistakes, it will only sound all the fimnier, you know." This being quite imanswerable. the piano was opened, aud. after Mrs. Coleman's spectacles had been himted for in all probable places, and discovered at last in the coal-scuttle, a phenomenon which that good lady accounted for on the scoi'e of " John's having flunied her so when he brought in tea;" and when, moreover, she had been with diflBculty prevailed on to allow the music-book to remain the right way upwards, the song was commenced. As Freddy had a good tenor voice, and sang Italian " bufPa " songs with much humour, the performance proved highly successful, although Mrs. Coleman was as good as her word in introducing some original and decidedly " funny " chords into the accompaniment, which would have gi-eatly discomposed the composer, if he had by any chance overheard them. " I did not know that you were such an accomplished performer, Freddy," observed I ; " you are quite an universal genius." " Oh, the song was capital ! " said Miss Saville, " and Mr. Colematt sang it with so much spirit." ■' Really," retiu-ned Freddy, with a low bow, " you do me proud, as brother Jonathan says ; I am actuaUy — that is, positively — " " My dear Freddy," interrupted Mrs. Coleman, " I wish you would go and fetch Lucy's music ; I'm sure Miss SaviUe can sing some of her songs ; it's — let me see — yes, it's either downstairs in the study, or in the boudoir, or in the little room at the top of the house, or, if it isn't, you had better ask Susan about it." " Perhaps the shoriest way will be to consult Susan at once," replied Coleman, as he turned to leave the room. " I presume you prefer ' buffa ' songs to music of a more pathetic character ? " inquired I, addi'essing Miss Saville. FRANK FAIRLEGH 221 " You judge from my liaving praised the one we have just heard, I suppose ? " ■' Yes, and fx-om the lively style of your conversation ; I have been en\-ying youi- high spii-its all the evening." '■ Indeed ! " was the reply ; " and why should you envy them P " " Are they not an indication of happiness, and is not that an en\"iable possession ? " returned I. " Yes, indeed ! " she replied, in a low voice, but with such passionate earnestness as quite to startle me. " Is laughing, then, such an infallible indication of happiness ? " she continued. " One usually supposes so," replied I. To this she made no answer, unless a sigh can be caUed one, and, turning away, began looking over the pages of a music-book. " Is there nothing you can recollect to sing, my dear ? " asked Mrs. Coleman. She paused for a moment as if in thought ere she replied, — " There is an old air, which I think I could remember ; but I do not know whether you will like it. The words," she added, glancing towards me, " refer to the subject on which we have been speaking." She then seated herself at the instrument, and after striking a few simple chords, sang, in a sweet, rich soprano, the following stanzas :— I. " Behold, how brightly seeming All nature shows : In golden sunUght gleaming, Blushes the rose. How very happy things mast be That are eo bright and fair to see Ah, no ! m thut sweet flower, A worm there hes ; And lo ! within the hour, It fades — it dies. II. " Behold, yotmg Beauty's glances Around she flings ; While as she hghtly dances, Her soft laugh rings : How very happy they must be, Who are as young and gay as she ! "Tis not when smfles are brightest, So old tales say, The bosom's lord sits lightest— Ah! well-a-day! III. " Beneath the greenwood's cover The maiden steals, And as she meets her lover, Her blush reveals How very happy all must be Who love with trustful constancy. By cruel fortune parted, She learns too late. How some die broken-hearted — Ah ! hapless fate ! " The air to which these words were set was a simple, plaintive, old melody, well suited to their expression, and Miss Saville sang with much taste and feeling. When she reached the last four lines of the second verse, her eyes met mine for an instant, with a sad, -reproach- 222 FRANK FAIRLEGH fill glance, as if upbraiding me for having misunderstood her; and there was a touching sweetness in her voice, as she almost whispered the refrain, "Ah! well-a-day!" which seemed to breathe the very soul of melancholy. " Strange, incomprehensible girl ! " thought I, as I gazed with a feeling of interest I coidd not restrain upon her beautiful features' which were now marked by an expression of the most touching sadness — " who could believe that she was the same person who, but five minutes since, seemed possessed by the spint of frolic and men-i- ment, iind appeared to have eyes and ears for nothing beyond the jokes and di'olleries of Fi-eddy Coleman ? " " That's a vei-y pretty song, my dear," said Mrs. Coleman ; " and I'm vei-y much obliged to you for singing it, only it has made me cry 80, it has given me quite a cold in my head, I declai*e ; and, suiting the action to the word, the tender-heai-ted old lady began to wipe her eyes, and execute simdry manceu\Tes incidental to the malady she had named. At this moment Freddy retuined laden with music- books. Miss Saville immediately fixed upon a lively duet which w'ould suit their voices, and song followed song, till Mrs. Coleman, waking suddenly in a fright, after a tremendous attempt to break her neck, which was vei^y near pro^nng successful, found out that it was past eleven o'clock, and consequently bed-time. It can scarcely be doubted that my thoughts as I fell asleep (for, nnromantic as it may appear, truth compels me to state that I never slept better in my life) turned upon my imexpected meeting Avith Clara Saville. The year and a half which had elapsed since the night of the ball had altered her from a beautiful girl into a lovely woman. Without in the slightest degree diminishing its gi-ace and elegance, the outline of her figiu-e had become more rounded, while her featvu'es had acquired a depth of expression which was not before obsei'vable, and which was the only thing wanting to render them (I had almost said) perfect. In her manner there was also a gi-eat alteration ; the quiet resei've she had maintained when in the presence of Mr. Vernor, and the calm frankness displayed diu-ing our accidental meeting in Barstone Park, had alike given way to a strange excitability, wliich at times showed itself in the biu'sts of wild gaiety which had annoyed my fastidious sensitiveness in the earlier part of the evening, at others in the deep impassioned feeling she thi-ew into her singing, though I observed that it was only in such songs as pai-took of a melancholy and even despairing character that she did so. The result of my meditations was, that the young lady was an interesting enigma, and that I could not employ the next two or three days to better advantage than in " doing a little bit of CEdipus," as Coleman would have termed it, or, in plain English, " finding her out " ; and hereabouts I fell asleep. FRANK FAIRLEGH 223 CHAPTER XXXIV. THE RIDDLE BAFFLES ME ! " Tour riddle is haixl to read." Tennyton, " Are yon content ? I am what yon behold. And that's a mystery." The Tko Foieari. The post nest morning brought a letter from Mr. Vemor to say that, as he found the business on which he was engaged must necessitate his crossing to Boulogne, he feared there was no chance of his being able to return under a week, but that, if it should be inconvenient for Mrs. Coleman to keep Miss Saville so long at Elm Lodge, he should wish her to go back to Barstone, where, if she was in any difficulty, she could easily apply to her late hostess for advice and assistance. On being brought clearly (though I fear the word is scarcely applicable to the good lady's state of mind at any time) to understand the position of affairs, Mrs. Coleman would by no means hear of Miss Saville's departm-e ; but, on the contrai-y, made her promise to prolong her stay till her guardian should return, which, as Freddy observed, involved the remarkable coincidence that if Mr. Yemor should be di'owned in crossing the British Channel, she (his mother) would have put her foot in it. The same post brought Fi'eddy a summons from his father, desiiing him the moment he retiu-ned from Bui-y with the papers, to proceed to town immediately. There was nothing left for him, therefore, but to deposit himself upon the roof of the next coach, blue bag in hand, which he accordingly did, after having spent the inteiwening time in reviling all lawyers, clients, deeds, settlements, in fact, ewery indivi- dual thing connected with the profession, excepting fees. " Clai-a and I are going for a long walk, Mr. Fairlegh, and we shall be glad of yom* escort, if you have no objection to accompany us, and it is not too far for you," said Mi*s. Coleman (who evidently considered me in the last stage of a decline), trotting into the break- fast-room where I was loimging, book in hand, over the fire, wondeiing what possible pretext I could invent for joining the ladies. " I shall be only too happy," answered I, " and I think I can con- trive to walk as far as you can, Mrs. Coleman." " Oh ! I don't know that," was the reply, "I am a capital walker, I assure you. I remember a young man, quite as young as you, and a good deal stouter, who could not walk nearly as far as I can ; to be sure," she added as she left the room, " he had a wooden leg, poor feUow ! " 224 FRANK FAIRLEGH I soon received a summons to start with the ladies, whom I found awaiting my aiTival on the terrace walk at the back of the huuge, comfortably wi-apped up in shawls and furs, for, although a In-ight sun was shining, the day was cold and frosty. " You must allow me to carry that for you," said I, laying violent hands on a large basket, between which and a muff, Mrs. Coleman was in vain attempting to effect an amicable arrangement " Oh, dear ! I'm sm-e you'll never be able to carry it— it's so dread- fully heav^," was the reply. " Nous veiTons," answered I, swinging it on my forefinger, in order to demonstrate its lightness. ''Take care— you mustn't do so ! " exclaimed Mrs. Coleman in a tone of extreme alarm ; " you'll upset all my beautiful senna tea. and it will get amongst the slices of Christmas phuu-pudding, and the flannel that I'm going to take for poor Mrs. Muddles' childi-eu to eat ; do you know Mrs. Muddles, Clara, my dear ? " Miss Saville replied in the negative, and Mrs. Coleman con- tinued, — "Ah! poor thing! she's a very hard-working, respectable, ex- cellent yoimg woman ; she has been manied three yeai-s, and has got six children— no! let me see— it's six years, and tha-ee children— that's it— though I can never rememl>er whether it's most pigs or children she has— four pigs, did I say ?— but it doesn't much signify, for the yoimgest is a boy and will soon be fat enough to kill— the pig I mean ; and they're all veiy dii-ty, and have never been taught to read, because she takes in washing, and has put a great deal too much starch in my nightcap this week— only her husband drinks— so I mustn't say much about it, poor thing, for we all have om- failings, you know." "With such-like rambling discoiu-se did worthy Mi-s. Coleman beguile the way, imtil at length, after a walk of some two miles and a half, we an-ived at the cottage of that much-enduring laundress, the highly respectable Mrs. Muddles, where in due fonn we were introduced to the mixed race of childi-en and pigs, between which heads clearer than that of Mrs. Coleman might have been at a loss to distinguish ; for if the pigs did not exactly resemble childi-en, th* childi-en most assm-edly looked like pigs. Here we seemed likely to remain for some time, as there was much business to be transacted by the two mati-ous. First, jVIrs. Coleman's basket was unpacked, during which process that lady delivered a long harangue, setting forth the rival merits of plum-pudding and black draught, and ingeniously establishing a connection between them, which has ren- dered the f oi-mer nearly as distasteful to me as the latter ever since. Thence glancing slightly at the over-starched nightcap, and delicately refen-ing to the anti-teetotal propensities of the laundress's spouse, she contrived so thoroughly to confuse and interlace the various topics of her discourse, as to render it an open question whether the male Muddles had not got tipsy on black di-aught in consequence Hi^ ^^iu^^i emfe^ i'ms'Z^ey. FRANK FAIRLEGH 225 of the plum-pudding having over-stai-ched the nightcap ; moreover, she distinctly called the latter article " poor fellow ! " twice. In reply to this, Mrs. Muddles, the skin of whose hands was crimped up into patterns like seaweed, from the amphibious nature of her employment, and whose general appearance was, from the same cause, moist and spongy, expressed much gi-atitude for the contents of the basket, made a pathetic apology to the nightcap, tried to ignore the imbibing propensity of her better half ; but, when pressed home upon the point, declared that when he was not engaged in the' Circe-like operation of " making a beast of hisself," he was one of the most virtuousest of men ; and finaUy wound up by a minute medical detail of Johnny's chilblain, accompanied by a slight retrospective sketch of Mary Anne's depaiied whooping-cough. How much longer the conversa- tion might have continued, it is impossible to say, for it was e-vident that neither of the speakei-s had by any means exhausted her budget, had not Johnny, the unfortxmate proprietor of the chilblain above alluded to, seen fit to precipitate himself, head-foremost, into a washing-tub of nearly scalding water, whence his mamma, with great presence of mind and much professional dexterity, extricated him, winmg him out, and set him on the mangle to dry, where he remained sobbing, from a vague sense of humid misery, until a more con- venient season. This little incident reminding Mre. Coleman that the boiled beef preparing for our luncheon and the seiwants' dinner woxild inevitably be overdone, induced her to take a hiuTied farewell of Mrs. Muddles, though she paused at the threshold to offer a parting suggestion as to the advisability, moral and physical, of dividing the wi-etched Johnny's share of plum-pudding between his brothers and sisters, and administering a double poi-tion of black draught by way of com- pensation, an aiTangement which elicited from that much-wi-onged child a howl of mingled horror and defiance. We had proceeded about a mile on our return when Mrs. Coleman, who was a step or two in advance, trod on a slide some boys had made, and would have fallen had I not thrown my arm round her just in time to prevent it. ■■ My dear madam," exclaimed I, " you were as nearly as possible down ; I hope you have not hiu-t youi-self ." ■• No, my dear— I mean— Mr. Fairlegh ; no ! I hope I have not, except my ankle. I gave that a twist somehow, and it hm-ts me dreadfully ; but I dare say I shall be able to go on in a minute." The good lady's hopes, however, were not destined in this instance to be fulfilled, for, on attempting to proceed, the pain increased to such an extent that she was forced, after limping a few steps, to seat herself on a stone by the wayside, and it became evident that she must have spi-ained her ankle severely, and would be utterly unable to walk home. In this dilemma it was not easy to discover what was the best thing to do — no vehicle could be procured nearer than HiUingford, from which place we were at least two mUes distant, 226 FRANK FAIRLEGH and I by no means approved of leaving my companions in their present helpless state, during the space of time which must neces- sarily elapse ere I could go and return. Mi-s. Coleman, who, although suffering from considerable pain, bore it with the gi-eatest equa- nimity and good natiu-e, seeming to think much more of the incon- venience she was likely to occasion us than of her own discomforts, had just hit upon some brilliant but totally impracticable project when our eai-s wei-e gladdened by the soimd of wheels, and in another moment a little pony-chaise, drawn by a fat. comfortal;)le-looking pony, came in sight, proceeding in the direction of Hillingford. As soon as the driver, a stout rosy-faced gentleman, who proved to be tlie family apothecary, perceived om- party, he pulled up, and when he became aware of what had occuired. put an end to om- difficulties by offering Mrs. Coleman the unoccupied seat in his chaise. " Son*y I can't accommodate you also, Miss Saville," he continued, raising his bat; "but you see ifs rather close packing as it is. If I were but a little more like the medical practitioner who administered a sleeping draught to Master Romeo, now, we might contrive to cany three." " I really prefer walking such a cold day as this, thank you, Mr. Pillaway," answered Miss Saville. " Mind you take proper care of poor Clara, Mr. Fairlegh," said Mrs. Coleman, " and don't let her sprain her ankle, or do anything foolish, and don't you stay out too long yourself and catch cold, or I don't know what Mrs. Fairlegb will say, and your pretty sister, too —what a fat pony, Mr. Pillaway ! you don't give him much physic, I should think— good-bye, my dears, good-bye— remember the boiled beef." As she spoke, the fat pony, admonished by the whip, described a circle with his tail, frisked with the agility of a playful ele])hant, and then set off at a better pace than from his adipose appearance I had deemed him capable of doing. " With all her oddity, what an unselfish, kind-hearted, excellent little person Mrs. Coleman is ! " observed I, as the pony-chaise dis- appeared at an angle of the road. " Oh ! I think her charming," replied my companion warmly, *' she is so veiy good-natured." " She is something beyond that," returned I ; " mere good nature is a quality I rate veiy low : a person may be good-natured, yet thoroughly selfish, for nine times out of ten it is easier and more agreeable to say ' yes ' than ' no ; ' but there is such an entu-e forget- fulness of self apparent in all Mrs. Coleman's attempts to make those arovmd her happy and comfortable, that, despite her eccen- tricities, I am beginning to conceive quite a respect for the little woman." " Tou are a close observer of character, it seems, Mr. Fairlegh," remarked my companion. " I scarcely see how any thinking person can avoid being so," FRANK FAIRLEGH 227 returned I ; " there is no study that appears to me to possess a more deep and varied interest." "Ton make mistakes, though, sometimes," replied Miss Saville, glancing quickly at me with her beautiful eyes. " You refer to my hasty judgment of last night," said I, colouring slightly. " The moui-nful words of yom- song led me to conclude that, in one instance, high spirits might not be a sure indication of a light heart ; and yet I would fain hope," added I, in a half- questioning tone, "that you merely sought to inculcate a general principle." '■ Is not that a veiy unusual species of heath to find growing in this countiy ? " was the rejoinder. " ReaUy, I am no botanist," returned I, rather crossly, for I felt that I had received a rebuff, and was not at all sui-e that I might not have deseiwed it. " Nay, but I will have you attend ; you did not even look towards the place where it is growing," replied Miss Sa\TLUe, with a half- imperious, haL£-imploi-ing glance, which it was impossible to resist. " Is that the plant you mean ? " asked I, pointing to a tuft of heath on the top of a steep bank by the roadside. On receiving a reply in the affii-mative, I continued : " Then I will render you aU the assistance in my power, by enabling you to judge for yourself." So saying, I scrambled up the bank at the imminent risk of my neck ; and after bm-sting the buttonholes of my straps, and teai-ing my coat in two places with a bramble, I succeeded in gatheiing the heath. Elated by my success, and feeling every nerve braced and invigo- rated by the frosty aii-, I bounded down the slope with such velocity that, on reaching the bottom, I was vmable to check my speed, and only avoided running against Miss Saville by nearly thi-owing myself down backwards. " I beg yom- pardon ! " exclaimed I ; " I hope I have not alarmed you by my abominable awkwardness ; but really the bank was so steep that it was impossible to stop sooner." '• Nay, it is I who ought to apologize for having led you to under- take such a dangerous expedition," replied she, taking the heath which I had gathered, with a smile which quite repaid me for my exertions. '' I do not know what could have possessed me to run down the bank in that insane manner," retmnaed I ; " I suppose it is this fine frosty morning which makes one feel so light and happy." " Happy ! " repeated my companion incrediilously, and in a half- absent manner, as though she were rather thinking aloud than addi'essing me. " Yes," replied I, surpiised ; " why should I not feel so ? " " Is anyone happy ? " was the rejoinder. "Very many people, I hope," said I; "you do not doubt it, svu'ely." 228 FRANK FAIRLEGH " I well might," she answered with a sigh. " On such a beautiful day as this, with the bright clear sky above us, and the hoar-frost sparkling like diamonds in the glorious sun- shine, how can one avoid feeling happy P " asked I. " It is vei-y Ijeautiful," she replied, after gJizing around for a moment ; " and yet can you not imagine a state of mind in which this fair scene, with all its varied charms, may impress one with a feeling of bitterness rather thiui of pleasure, by the contrast it affords to the darkness and weariness of soul within P Place some famine- stricken wi-etch beneath the roof of a gilded palace, think you the sight of its magnificence would give him any sensation of pleasure ? Would it not rather, by increasing the sense of his ovm. misery, add to his agony of spirit P" " I can conceive such a case possible," replied I ; " but you would make us out to be all famine-stricken wretches at this rate : you cannot surely imagine that everyone is unhappy P " "There are, no doubt, different degrees of unhappiness," returned Miss SaviUe ; " yet I can hiu'dly conceive any position in life so free from cares as to be pronounced positively happy ; but I know my ideas on this subject are peculiar, and I am by no means desirous of making a convert of you, Mr. Fairlegh ; the world will do that soon enough, I feai"," she added with a sigh. " I cannot believe it," replied I warmly. " True, at times we must all feel soitow ; it is one of the conditions of our mortal lot, and we must bear it with what resignation we may, knowing that, if we but make a fitting use of it, it is certain to.work for our highest good ; but if you would have me look upon this world as a vale of tears, forgetting all its glorious opportunities for raising our fallen natiu'e to some- thing so bright and noble as to be even here but little lower than the angels, you must pardon me if I never can agree with you." There was a moment's pause, when my companion resumed. " You talk of opportunities of doing good, as being likely to increase our stock of happiness ; and no doubt you ai-e right ; but imagine a situation in which you axe iinable to take advantage of these oppor- tunities when they ai-ise — in which you are not a free agent, your will fettered and controlled on every point, so that you are alike * powerless to perform the good that you desire, and to avoid the e\nl you both hate and fear — could you be happy in such a situation, think youP" " Tou describe a case which is, or ought to be, impossible," replied I ; " when I say ought to be, I mean that in these days, I hope and believe, it is impossible for anyone to be forced to do wrong, unless, from a natural weakness and facility of disposition, and from a want of moral courage, their resistance is so feeble, that those who seek to compel them to e\'il are induced to redouble their efforts, when a little firmness and decision clearly shown, and steadily adhered to, would have produced a very different result." " Oh that I could think so ! " exclaimed Miss Saville ardently ; she FRANK FAIRLEGH 229 paused for a minute as if in thought, and then resumed in a low, mournful voice, " But you do not know — you cannot tell ; besides, it is useless to struggle against destiny ; there are people fated from childhood to grief and misfortune — alone in this cold world " — she paused, then continued abruptly, " you have a sister ? " " Yes," replied I ; " I have as good a little sister as ever man was foi'tunate enough to possess — how glad I should be to introduce her to you ! " '■ And you love each other ? " " Indeed we do, truly and sincerely." " And you are a man, one of the lords of the creation ? " she con- tinued, with a slight degree of sarcasm in her tone. " Well, Mr. Faii'legh, I can believe that you may be ha^jpy sometimes." " And what am I to conjecture about you ? " inquired I, fixing my eyes upon her expressive feattu'es. " What you please," returned she, tm-ning away with a very becoming blush — " or rather," she added, " do not waste your time in forming any conjectures whatever on such an uninteresting subject." " I am more easily interested than you imagine," replied I, with a smile ; " besides, you know I am fond of studying character." " The riddle is not worth reading," answered Miss Saville. " Nevei'theless, I shall not be contented till I have foimd it out ; I shall guess it before long, depend upon it," returned I. An incredulous shake of the head was her only reply, and we continued conversing on indifferent subjects till we reached Elm Lodge. 230 FRANK PAIRLEGH CHAPTER XXXV. A MYSTERIOUS LETTER. " Good company's a chess-board — there are kings. Queens, bishops, knights, rooks, pawns. The world's a game." Byron. " My soul hath felt a secret weight, A warning of approaching fate." Eokeby, " Oh ! lady, weep no more ; lest I give cause To be suspected of more tenderneit Than doth become a man." Shaketpeare. The nest few days passed like a happy di-eam. Om* little party remained tlie same, no tidings being lieard of any of the absentees, save a note from Freddy, saying how much he was annoyed at being detained in town, and begging me to wait his retura at Elm Lodge, or he would never forgive me. Mrs. Coleman's sprain, though not very severe, was yet sufficient to confine her to her own room till after breakfast, and to a sofa in the boudoir during the rest of the day ; and, as a necessai-y consequence. Miss Saville and I were chiefly dependent on each other for society and amusement. We walked together, read Italian (Petrarch, too, of all the authors we could have chosen, to beguile us with his pictiu-esque and glowing love conceits), played chess, and, in short, tried in turn the usual expedients for killing time in a counti-y-house, and foimd them all veiT " pretty pastimes " indeed. As the young lady's shyness wore off, and by degrees she allowed the various excellent qualities of her head and heart to appear, I recalled Lucy Markham's assertion, that " she was as good and amiable as she was pretty," and acknowledged that she had only done her justice. Still, although her manner was generally lively and animated, and at times even gay, I could perceive that her mind was not at ease ; and whenever she was silent, and her featm'es were in repose, they were marked by an expression of hopeless dejection which it grieved me to behold. If at such moments she perceived anyone was obseiwing her, she would rouse herself with a sudden start, and join in the conversation with a degree of wild vehemence and strange, unnatm'al gaiety, which to me had in it some- thing shocking. Latterly, however, as we became better acquainted, and felt more at ease in each other's society, these wild bursts of spirits gi'ew less frequent, or altogether disappeared, and she would meet my glance with a calm melancholy smile, which seemed to say, " I am not afraid to tnast you with the knowledge that I am unhappy FRANK FAIRLEGH 231 — you will not betray me." Yet, tliougli she seemed to find pleasure in discussing subjects wbicb afforded oppoi-tionity for expressing the morbid and desponding views she held of life, she never allowed the conversation to take a personal turn, always skilf\illy avoiding the possibility of her words being applied to her own case : any attempt to do so invariably rendering her silent, or eliciting from her some gay, piquant remark, which served her purpose still better. And how were my feelings getting on all this time ? Was I falling in love with this wayward, incomprehensible, but deeply -interesting girl, into whose constant society circumstances had, as it were, forced me ? Reader, this was a question which I most carefully abstained from asking myself. I knew that I was exceedingly happy ; and, as I wished to continue so, I steadily forbore to analyze the ingredients of this happiness too closely, perhaps from a secret consciousness that, were I to do so, I might discover certain awkward tniths, which would prove it to be my duty to.tear myself away from the scene of fascination ere it was too late. So I told myself that I was bound by my promise to Coleman to remain at Elm Lodge till my mother and sister should return home, or, at all events, till he himself came back > this being the case, I was compelled by all the rules of good-breeding to be civil and attentive to Miss Saville (yes, civil and attentive — I repeated the words over two or three times ; they were nice, quiet, cool sort of words, and suited the view I was anxious to take of the case particulai-ly well). Besides, I might be of some use to her, poor girl ! by combating her strange, melancholy, half -fatalist opinions ; at all events, it was my duty to ti*y, decidedly my duty (I said that also several times) ; and, as to my feeling such a deep interest about her, and thinking of her continually, why, there was nothing else to think about at Elm Lodge — so that was easily accounted for. All this, and a good deal more of the same nature, did I tell myself ; and, if I did not implicitly believe it, I was much too polite to think of giving myself the lie, so I continued walking, talking, reading Petrai-ch, and playing chess with Miss Saville all day, and di'eamuig of her all night, and being vei*y happy indeed. Oh ! it's a dangerous game, by the way, that game of chess, with its gallant young knights, clever fellows, up to all sorts of deep moves, who are perpetually laying siege to queens, keeping them in check, threatening them with the bishop, and, with his assistance, mating at last ; and much too nearly does it resemble the game of life to be played safely with a pair of bright eyes talking to you from the other side of the board, and two coral lips — mute, indeed, but in their very silence discoursing such " sweet music " to yoxu' heart, that the silly thing, dancing with dehght, seems as if it means to leap out of yoiu* breast ; and it is not mere seeming either— for hearts have been altogether lost in this way before now. Oh ! it's a dangerous game, that game of chess. But to retiuTi to my tale. About a week after the expedition to Mrs. Muddles's had taken place, Freddy and his father returned just in time for dinner. As I 232 FRANK FAIRLEGH was dressing for that meal, Coleman came into my room, anxious to learn "how the young lady had conducted herself" diu-ing his absence : whether I had taken any unfair advantage, or acted honourably, and with a due regard to his interest, with sundi-y other jocose queries, all of Avhich appeared to me exceedingly impertinent, and particularly disagreeable, and inspired me with a strong inclination to take him by the shoulders and march him out of the x'oom ; instead, however, of doing so, I endeavoiu-ed to look amiable, and answer his inquiries in the same light tone in which they were made, and I so far suc- ceeded as to render the amount of infonnation he obtained exceed- ingly minute. The dinner passed off heavily ; Miss Saville was unusually silent, and all Freddy's sallies failed to draw her out. Mr. Coleman was very pompous, and so distressingly polite, that every- thing like sociability was out of the question. When the ladies left us matters did not improve ; Freddy, finding the atmosphere ungenial to jokes, devoted himself to cracking walnuts by original methods which invariably failed, and attempting to torture into impossible shapes oranges, which, when finished, were much too sour for anyone t(' eat ; while his father, after having solemnly, and at separate intervals, begged me to partake of every article of the dessert twice over, commenced an harangue, in which he set forth the extreme caution and resei-ve he considered it right and advisable for young gentlemen to exercise in theii* intercourse with yoimg ladies, towards whom he declared they should maintain a staid deportment of dignified coiu'tesy, tempered by distant but respectfid attentions. This, repeated with variations, lasted us till the tea was announced, and we returned to the drawing-room. Here Freddy made a desperate and final struggle to remove the wet blanket which appeared to have extingu.ished the life and spirit of the party, but in vain ; it had e\'idently set in for a dull evening, and the clouds were not to be dispelled by any efforts of Ids ; — nothing, therefore, remained for liim but to teaze the cat, and worry and confiise his mother, to which occupations he applied himself with a degi-ee of diligence worthy a better object. During a fearful commotion consequent upon the discovei-y of the cat's nose in the cream-jug, into the com- mission of which delinquency Freddy had contrived to inveigle that amiable quadruped by a series of treacherous caresses, I could not help remarking to Miss Saville (next to whom I happened to be seated) the contrast between this evening and those which we had lately spent together. " Ah ! yes," she replied, in a half-absent manner, " I knew they were too happy to last ; " then, seeing from the flush of joy which I felt rise to my brow, though I would have given worlds to repi'ess it, that I had put a wrong construction on her words, or, as my heart would fain have me believe, that she had unconsciously admitted more than she intended, she added hastily, " What I mean to say is, that the perfect freedom from restraint, and the entire liberty to — to follow one's own pursuits, are pleasures to which I am so little FRANK FAIRLEGH 233 accustomed, that I have enjoyed them more than I was perhaps awai-e of while they lasted." '" You are out of spirits this evening. I hope nothing has occiUTed to annoy you ? " inquired I. " Do you believe in presentiments ? " was the rejoinder. " I cannot say I do," returned I ; " I take them to be little else than the creations of oiu- own morbid fancies, and attribute them in a gi-eat measure to physical causes." " But why do they come time then ? " she inquired. " I must answer your question by another," I replied, " and ask whether, except now and then by accident, they do come true P " " I think so," I'etumed Miss SaA'ille ; " at least, I can only judge as one usually does, more or less, in every case, by one's own experience — my i^resentiments always appear to come trae ; would it were not so ! for they are generally of a gloomy nattu-e." " Even yet," replied I, " I doubt whether you do not unconsciously deceive yourself, and I think I can tell you the reason ; you remember the times when your presentiments have come to pass, because you considered such coincidences remarkable, and they made a strong impression on youi- mind, while you forget the innumerable gloomy forebodings which have never been fidfilled,the accomplishment being the thing which fixes itself on your memory — is not this the case ? " " It may be so," she answered, " and yet I know not — even now there is a weight here ; " and she pressed her hand to her brow as she spoke, " a vagxie, dull feeling of di'ead, a sensation of coming evil which tells me that some misfortune is at hand, some crisis of my fate approaching. I daresay you consider all this very silly and romantic, Mr. Fairlegh ; but if you knew how everything I have most feared, most sought to avoid, has invariably been forced upon me, you would make allowance for me — you would pity me." What answer I should have made to this appeal, had not Fate interposed in the person of old Mr. Coleman (who seated himself on the other side of Miss Saville, and began talking about the state of the roads), it is impossible to say. As it was, my only reply was by a glance, which, if it failed to con-vince her that I pitied her with a depth and intensity which approached alarmingly near .the kindred emotion, love, must have been singulai-ly inexpi-essive. And the evening came to an end, as all evenings, however long, are sui-e to do at last ; and in due course I went to bed, but not to sleep, for Clara Saville and her forebodings ran riot in my brain, and effectually banished the " soft restorer " till such time as that early egotist the cock began singing his own praises to his numerous wives, when I fell into a doze, with a strong idea that I had got a presentiment myself, though of what natm-e, or when the event (if event it was) was likely to " come off," I had not the most distant notion. The post-bag amved while we were at breakfast the next morning ; and it so happened that I was the only one of the party for whom it did not contain a letter. Having nothing, therefore, to occupy my 234 FRANK FAIRLEGH attention, and being seated exactly opposite Clara Saville. I could scarcely fail to observe the effect produced by one which Mr. Cole- man had handed to her. When her eye first fell on the t\Titing she gave a slight start, and a flush (I could not decide whether of pleasiire or anger) mounted to her brow. As she perused the contents she grew deadly pale, and I feared she was about to faint : recovering herself, however, by a strong effort, she read steadily to the end, quietly refolded the letter, and placmg it in a pocket in her dress, apparently resumed her breakfast— I say apparently, for I noticed that, although she busied herself with what was on her plate, it remained untasted, and she took the eai-liest opportunity, as soon as the meal was concluded, of leaving the room. "I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse me till after lunch, old fellow," said Coleman ; " you see, we're so dreadfully busy just now with this confoimded suit I went down to Bury about— ' Bowler versus Stumps ' ; biit if you can amuse yourself till two o'clock we'll go and have a jolly good walk to shake up an appetite for dinner." " The vei-y thing," replied I ; " I have a letter to Harry Oaklands which has been on the stocks for the last four days, and which I particularly wish to finish, and then I'm your man, for a ten mile trot if you like it." " So be it, then," said Freddy, leaving the room as he spoke. As soon as he was gone, instead of fetching my half-wi-itten epistle I flung myself into an arm-chair, and devoted myself to the profitable employment of conjectm-ing the possible cause of Clara SaviUe's strange agitation on receiving that letter. Who could it be from ?— perhaps her guardian ;— but if so, why should she have given a start of surprise ?— nothing could have been more natural or probable than that he shoiild wi-ite and say when she might expect him home— she could not have felt surprise at the sight of his handwriting— but if not from him, from whom co\ild it come ? She had told me that she had no near relations, no intimate friend. A lover, perchance— well, and if it were so, what was that to me ?— nothing— oh yes ! decidedly nothing— a f avoiu-ed lover of coiu'se, else why the emotion ?— was this also nothing ?— yes, I said it was, and I tried to think so too : yet, viewing the matter so philosophically, it was rather inconsistent to ■ spring from my seat as if an adder had stung me, and begin striding up and down the room as though I were walking for a wager. In the course of my rapid promenade, my coat-tail brushed against and nearly knocked down an inkstand, to which incident I was indebted for the recollection of my unfinished letter to Oaklands, and, my own thoughts being at that moment no over-pleasant companions, I was glad of any excuse to get rid of them. On looking about for my writ- ing-case, however, I remembered that, when last I made use of it, we were sitting in the boudoir, and that there it had probably remained ever since ; accordingly, withoiit further waste of time, I ran upstairs to look for it. As good Mrs. Coleman (although she most indignantly repelled FRANK FAIRLEGH 235 tlie accusatioB) was sometimes accustomed to indulge her propensity for napping even in a morning, I opened tlie door of the boudoir, and closed it again after me as noiselessly as possible. My precautions, however, did not seem to have been necessary, for at first sight the room appeared im.tenanted ; but as I turned to look for my writing- case a stifled sob met my ear, and a closer inspection enabled me to perceive the fonn of Clara Sa\'ille, with her face buried in the cushions, half sitting, half reclining on the sofa, while so silently had I effected my entrance that as yet she was not aware of my approach. My first impulse was to withdraw and leave her undistui'bed, but imluckily a slight noise which I made in endeavoui-ing to do so attracted her attention, and she started uid in alann, regai'ding me with a wild, half -frightened gaze, as if she scarcely recognized me. " I beg your pardon," I began hastily, " I am afraid I have dis- tm-bed you — I came to fetch — that is to look for — my—" and here I stopped short, for to my sui-prise and consternation Miss Sa\'ille, after making a strong but ineffectual effoi^t to regain her composure, sank back upon the sofa, and, covei'ing her face with her hands, biu-st into a violent flood of tears. I can scarcely conceive a situa- tion more painful, or in which it wordd be more difficult to know how to act, than the one in which I now found myself. The sight of a woman's tears must always produce a powerful effect upon a man of any feeling, leading him to wish to comfort and assist her to the utmost of his ability ; but if the fair weeper be one in whose welfare yoii take the deepest interest, and yet with whom you ai*e not on terms of sufficient intimacy to entitle you to offer the consolation your heart woidd dictate, the position becomes doubly embaiTassing. For my part, so overcome was I by a perfect chaos of emotions, that I remained for some moments like one thunder-sti-icken, while she continued to sob as though her heart were breaking. At length I could stand it no longer, and scarcely knowing what I was going to say or do, I placed myself on the sofa beside her, and taking one of her "hands, which now hung listlessly down, in my own, I exclaimed, — '' Miss Saville — Clara — dear Clara ! I cannot bear to see you so unhappy, it makes me miserable to look at you — tell me, what can I do to help you— to comfort you— something must be possible — you have no brother— let me be one to you — tell me why you are so wi-etched — and oh ! do not ciy so bitterly ! " When I fii'st addressed her she started slightly, and attempted to withdi-aw her hand, but as I proceeded she allowed it to remain quietly in mine, and though she still continued to weep, her tears f eU more softly, and she no longer sobbed in such a distressing manner. Glad to find that I had in some measm-e succeeded in calming her, I renewed my attempts at consolation, and again implored her to tell me the cause of her unhappiness. Still for some moments she was unable to speak, but at length making an effort to recover herself, she withdrew her hand, and stroking back her glossy hair, which had fallen over her forehead, said, — 236 FRANK FAIRLEGH " This is veiy weak — vei'y foolish. I do not often jrive way in this manner, but it came upon me so suddenly — so unexpectedly; and now, Mr. Fairlegh, pray leave me ; I shall ever feel gi-ateful to you for your sympathy, for your offers of assistance, and for all the trouble you have kindly taken about such a strange, wayward g^irl, as I am sure you must consider me," she added with a faint smile. " So you -will not allow me to be of use to you P " returned I sorrow, fully ; " you do not think me worthy of your confidence." " Indeed it is not so," she replied earnestly ; " there is no one of whose judgment I think more highly; no one of whose assistance I would more gladly avail myself; on whose honour I would more willingly rely ; but it is utterly impossible to help me. Indeed," she added, seeing me still look incredulous. " I am telling you what I believe to be the exact and simple tnith." " Will you promise me that, if at any time you should find that I could be of use to you, you will apply to me as you would to a brother, trusting me sufficiently to believe that I shall not act hastily, or in any way which could in the slightest degree compromise or annoy you ? "Will you promise me this ? " " I will," she replied, raising her eyes to my face for an instant with that sweet trustful expression which I had before noticed. " though I suppose such prudent people as Mr. Coleman," she added with a slight smile, " would consider me to blame for so doing ; and were I like other girls — had I a mother's affection to watch over me — a father's care to shield me, they might be right; but situated as I am. having none to care for me — nothing to rely on save my own weak heart and imassisted judgment— while those who should guide and protect me appear only too ready to avail themselves of my helpless- ness and inexperience— I cannot afford to lose so true a friend, or believe it to be my duty to reject your disinterested kindness." A pause ensued, during which I arrived at two conclusions — first, that my kindness was not so disinterested as she imagined; and secondly, that if I sat where I was much longer, and she continued to talk about there being nobody who cared for her, I should inevitably feel myself called upon to undeceive her, and, as a necessary consequence, implore her to accept my heart and share my patrimony — the latter, deducting my sister's allowance and my mother's jointure, amovmting to the imposing sum of ^£90 14s. 6f d. per annum, which, although sufficient to furnish a bachelor with bread and cheese and broad-cloth, was not exactly calculated to afford an income for " persons about to maiTy." Accordingly, putting a strong force iipon my inclinations, and by a desperate effort screwing my vii-tue to the sticking point, I made a pretty speech, clenching, and thanking her for, her promise of applying to me to help her out of the first hopelessly inextricable dilemma in which she might find herseK involved, and rose with the full intention of leaving the room. FRANK FAIRLEGH 237 CHAPTER XXXVI. THE RIDDLE SOLVED. " Think'st thou there's virtue in constrained vows. Half utier'd, soulless, falter'd forth in fear ? And if there is, then truth and grace are nought." Sheridan Snotclet. "For The contract you pretend with that base wretch. It is no contract — none." Shaketpeare. " 'Who hath not felt that breath in the air, A perfume and freshness strange and rare, A warmth in the Ught, and a bliss everj-Avhero, When young hearts yearn together? All sweets below, and all sunny above. Oh I there's nothing in life like making love, Save making bay in fine weather ! " Sood. Upon what trifles do the most important events of om- lives tum ! Had I quitted the room according to my intention, I should not have had an opportunity of seeing Miss Saville alone again (as she returned to Barstone that afternoon), in which case she would probably have forgotten or felt afraid to avail herself of my promised assistance, all commimication between us would have ceased, and the deep interest I felt in her, having nothing wheremth to sustain itself, would, as yeai's passed by, have died a natui-al death. Good resolutions are, however, proverljially fragile, and in nine cases out of ten appear made, like childi'en'a toys, only to be broken. Certain it is that in the present instance mine were rendered of none avail, and, for any good effect that they produced, might as well never have been foi-med. As I got up to leave the room Miss Saville rose likewise, and in doing so accidentally di-opped a, or i-ather the letter, which I picked up, and was about to return to her, when suddenly my eye fell upon the dii-ection, and I stai-ted as I recognized the writing — a second glance served to convince me that I had not been mistaken, for the hand was a very peculiar one ; and, tuniing to my astonished com- panion, I exclaimed, " Clara, as you would avoid a life of misei-y, tell me by what right this man dares to addi-ess you ! " " What ! do you know him, then P " she inquired anxiously. " If he be the man I mean," was my answer, " I know him but too well, and he is the only human being I both dislike and despise. Was not that letter written by Richard Cumberland ? " " Yes, that is his hateful name," she replied, shuddeiing while she spoke, as at the aspect of some loathsome thing; then, suddenly 238 FRANK FAIRLEGH clianpring her tone to one of the most passionate entreaty, she clasped her hands, and advancing a step towards me, excUiimed,— " Oh ! Mr. Fau-legh, only save me from him. and I w-ill bless you. will pray for you ! " and completely overcome by her emotion, she sank backwards, and would have fallen had not I prevented it. There is a peculiar state of feeling which a man sometimes experiences when he has bravely resisted some hydra-headed tempta- tion to do anything " pleasant but wi-ong," yet which circimistances appear determined to force upon him : he struggles against it boldly at first ; but, as each ^-ictory serves only to lessen his own strength, while that of the enemy continues unimpaired, he begins to tell him- self that it is useless to contend longer— that the monster is too strong for him, and he yields at last, from a mixed feeling of fatalism and iiTitation— a sort of " have-it-youi'-owu-way-then " frame of mind, which seeks to relieve itself from all responsibility by thi-owiug the Inu-den on things in general — the weakness of human natm-e — the force of circumstances— or any other indefinite and conventional scapegoat, which may serve his piu-pose of self -exculpation. In much such a condition did I now find myself ; I felt that I was regularly conquered — completely taken by storm — and that nothing was left for me but to yield to my destiny with the best grace I could. I therefore seated myself by Miss Saville on the sofa, and whispered, " You must promise me one thing more, Clara dearest — say that you will love me— give me but that right to watch over you — to protect you, and believe me, neither Cumberland nor any other villain shall dare for the futui-e to molest you." As she made no answer, bi;t remained with her eyes fixed on the gi-ound, while the tears stole slowly down her cheeks, I continued : " You own that you are unhappy — that you have none to love you — none on whom you can rely ; — do not, then, reject the tender, the devoted affection of one who would live but to protect you from the slightest breath of sorrow— would gladly die if, by so doing, he could secm'e yoiir happiness." " Oh ! hush, hush ! " she replied, starting, as if for the first time aware of the tenor of my words ; " you know not what you ask ; or even yoii, kind, noble, generous as you are. would not seek to link yom- fate with one so utterly wretched, so marked out for misfortu.ne as myself. Stay," she continued, seeing that I was about to speak, " hear me out. Richard Cumberland, the man whom you despise, and whom I hate only less than I fear, that man have I promised to many, and ere this he is on his road hither to claim the fulfilment of the engagement." " Promised to many Cumberland ! " repeated I mechanically, " a low, dissipated swindler— a common cheat, for I can call him nothing better ; oh, it's impossible ! — why, Mr. Yemor, yoiu- guardian, woidd never permit it." " My guardian ! " she i-eplied, in a tone of the most cutting irony ; " were it not for him, this engagement would never have been formed ; FRANK FAIRLEGH 23a were it not for him, I should even now hope to find some means of prevailing upon this man to relinquish it and set me free. Richard Cumberland is Mr. Vernor's nephew, and the dearest wish of his heart is to see us united." " He never shall see it while I live to pi*event it ! " replied I, spring- ing to my feet, and pacing the room with angry strides. Oh, it was all plain to me now ! when I had fancied her guardian's features were not unfamiliar to me, it was his likeness to Cumberland which had deceived me ; his rudeness on the night of the ball ; the strange dislike he appeared to feel towards me — all was now accounted for. His opinion of me, fonned from Cumberland's repoi-t, was not likely to be a very f avoui'able one ; and this precious uncle and nephew were linked in a scheme to destroy the happiness of the sweetest girl living, the Ijrightness of whose yoimg spirit was already darkened by the shade of their vile machinations : but they had not as yet succeeded, and, if the most strenuous and imceasing exertions on my part could seiwe to prevent it, I inwardly vowed they never should. Let Master Richard Cumberland look to himself ; I had foiled him once, and it would go hard with me, but I would do so again. Having half thought, half uttered the foregoing resolutions, I once more tm-ned towards Miss Saville, who sat watching me with looks of interest and sui-prise, and said, — " This is a most strange and unexpected afBair ; but remember, dear Clara, you have appealed to me to save you from Cumberland,, and to enable me to do so, you must tell me exactly how matters stand between you, and, above all, how and why you were induced to enter into this engagement, for I hope — I think — I am right in supposing — that affection for him had nothing to do with it." " Affection ! " she replied, in a tone of voice which, if any doubts still lingered in my mind, effectually dispelled them ; " have I not already said that I hate this man, as, I fear, it is sinful to hate any hmnan being ; I disliked and di'eaded him when we were boy and gii-1 together, and these feelings have gone on increasing year by year, till my aversion to him has become one of the most deeply rooted instincts of my nature." '' And yet you allowed yourself to be engaged to him ? " inquii'ed I. '* How could this have been brought about ? " '" Ton may well ask," was the reply ; " it was folly ; it was weak- ness ; but I was very young — a mere child, in fact ; and they made me believe that it was my duty ; then I hoped, I felt sure that I should die before the time an-ived to fulfil the engagement ; I fancied it was impossible to be so miserable, and yet to live : but Death is very cruel — he will not come to those who pine for him." '■ Clara," inten-upted I, " I cannot bear to hear you say such things ; it is not right to give way to these feelings of despair." " Is it wrong for the unhappy to wish to die ? " she asked, with a calm, child-like simplicity which was most touching. " I suppose it is," she continued, " for I have prayed for death so often that God 240 FRANK FAIRLEGH would have f?i-anted my prayer if it had been a ri^ht one. When I closed my eyes last nieen happiness of a tranquil natm-e, differing greatly fi'om the boisterous men-iment of children in general ; its chief ingredient being the strong affectiiiu which existed between her father and herself. The only guest who ever appeared at the Prioiy (which I now for the first time leanied had been the property of Sir Hem-y Saville) was his early friend, Mr. Vemor, who used periodically to visit them, an event to which she always looked forwai-d with pleasure, not so much on accoimt of the presents and caresses he bestowed on herself, as that his society appeai-ed to amuse and interest her father. On one of these occasions, when she was about nine years of age, Mr. Vemor was accompanied by a lad some years older than herself, whom he introduced as his nephew. Diu-ing his visit, the boy, who appeared gifted with tact and cunning beyond his years, contrived so much to ingratiate him- self with Sir Henry Saville, that before he left the Priory, his host, who had himself seiwed with distinction in the Peninsula, expressed his readiness to send him, on attaining a fit age, to one of the military colleges, promising to use his interest at the Horse Guards to procm-e a commission for him. These kind intentions, however, were^ fated not to be can-ied out. An old wound which Sir Henry had received at Vimiera broke out afresh, occasioning the rupture of a vessel on the lungs, and in the course of a few hours Clara was left fatherless. On examining the private papers of the deceased, it appeared that Mr. Yemor was constituted sole executor, trustee for the property, and guardian to the young lady. In these various capacities, he immediately took up his residence at Barstone, and assumed the direction of eveiything. And now for the first time did his true character appear — sullen and morose in temper, stem and inflexible in disposition, cold and reseiwed in manner, implacable when offended, requiring implicit obedience to his commands ; he seemed calculated to inspire fear instead of love, aversion rather than esteem. The only sign of feeling he ever showed was in his FRANK FAIRLEGH 241 feehaviom* towards Richard Cumberland, for Avhom lie evidently entertained a strong affection. The idea of a military career ha\'ing heen abandoned at Sir Henry Saville's death, much of his time was now spent at the Priory. Although he was apparently fond of his little companion, and endeavoured on evei-y occasion to render him- self agreeable to her, all his habitual cimning could not conceal from her his vile temper, or the imscrupulous means of which he was always willing to avail himself in order to attain his own ends. He had been away from the Priory on one occasion more than a year, when he suddenly returned with his uncle, who had been in town on business. He appeared sullen and uncomfortah>le, and she imagined that they must have had a quan-el. She was at that time nearly ^fifteen, and the marked devotion which Cumberland (who during his absence had greatly improved both in manner and appearance) now paid her, flattered and pleased her; and partly for this reason, partly because she had ah-eady learned to di-ead his outbreaks of temi^er, and was unwilling to do anything which might provoke one of them, she allowed him to continue his attentions unre- pulsed. This went on for some weeks, and her old dislike was beginning to return as she saw more of her companion, when one morning Mr. Yernor called her into his study, and inf oi-med her that he considered she had arrived at an age when it was right that they should become aware of the arrangements he had made for her, in accordance wnth the wishes of her late father. He then showed her a letter in Sir Heni*y SaviUe's handwriting, dated only a few weeks before his •death, part of which was to the following effect : " You urge the fact of your nephew's residing with you as an objection to my scheme for your living at Barstone, and assuming the guardianship of my daughter, in the event (which, if I may trust my own sensations, is not vei-y far distant) of her being left an orphan. From what I have seen of the boy, as well as on the score of our old friendship, my dear Vemor, that which you view as an objection, I consider but an additional reason why the aiTangement should take place. A man-iage with your nephew would insure my child (who as my sole heiress will be possessed of considerable wealth) from that worst of all fates, falling a prey to some needy fortune-hunter ; and should such a union ever be contemplated, let me beg of you to remember, and to impress upon Clara herself, that, had I lived, it would have met with my warmest approbation." Having shown her this letter, Mr. Yemor went on to say that he had noticed with pleasirre Richard's gi'owing attachment, and the marked encouragement she had given him, and that, although they were too young to think of maiTying for some years, and, as a general principle, he was averse to long engagements, yet under the peculiar circumstances in which they were placed, he had yielded to his nephew's importunity, and detei-mined not only to lay his offer before her, but to allow her to accept it at once, if (as from her 242 FRANK PAIRLEGH manner he could scarcely be mistaken in supposing) her inclinations were in accordance with his. Taken completely by surprise at this announcement, overi)Owered by the idea that by the encouracrement she had driven Cumberland the had irretrievaV^ly committed herself— stronerly affected by her father's letter, having no one to advise her, what wonder that the persuasions of the nephew, backed by the authority of the uncle, prevailed over her yoiith and inexperience, and that the matter ended in her allowing herself to be formally engaged to Richard Ciimberland. Little more remained for her to tell ; reckoning that he had gained his point, Cumberland became less careful in concealing his evil disposition, and her dislike to him and fear of him increased every day. At length this became evident to Mr. Vernor, but it appeared only to render him still more determined to bring about the match, and when once, nearly a twelvemonth before, she had implored him to allow her to break off the engagement, he had exhibited so much violence, declaring that he possessed the power of rendering her a. beggar, and even threatening to turn her out of doors, that she had never dared to recur to the subject. For many months, however, she had seen nothing of her persecutor, and she had almost begun to hope that something had rendered him averse to the match, when all her fears were again aroused by a hint which Mr. Vemor had thrown out as he took leave of her at Mrs. Coleman's, desiring her to exercise great circumspection in her behaviour, and to recollect that she was under a solemn engagement, which she might before long be called upon to fulfil. The letter from Cumberland, she added, spoke of his immediate retui-n to claim her hand, and a few lines from Mr. Vemor ordered her to await their an-ival at Barstone. " And now," she continued, looking up with that calm, hopelesa smile which was so painful to behold, " have I not cause to be un- happy, and was I not right in telling you that no one could be of any assistance to me, or afford me help ? " " No ! " replied I warmly ; " I trust and believe that much may be done — nay, everything ; but you are unequal to contend with these- men alone ; only allow me to hope that my affection is not utterly distasteful to you. "Would you but give me that right to interfere in your behalf ! " " This is ungenerous — unlike yourself," she inteiTupted. " Have you already forgotten that I am the promised bride of Richard Cimiberland ? Were I free, indeed — " " Oh ! why do you pause P " exclaimed I passionately. " Clara, hear me — you deem it iragenerous in me to urge my suit upon you at this moment — perhaps think that I would take advantage of the diflBculties which surround you, to induce you to promise me your hand as the price of my assistance. It is true that I love you deeply, devotedly, and the happiness of my whole life is centred in the hope of one day calling you my own; but I would use my utmost FRANK FAIRLEGH 243 endeavours to save you from Cumberland, even though I knew that by so doing I forfeited all chance of ever seeing you again. Tell me, would you wish this to be so — am I to believe that you dislike me?" As she made no reply, merely blushing deeply, and casting down her eyes, I ventured to continue, " Clara, dearest Clara, do you then love me ? " Well, reader, I think I've told you quite as much about it as you have any business to know. Of course she did not say she loved me — women never do upon such occasions ; but I was just as well contented as it was. Mendelssohn has composed songs without words ("lieder ohne worte"), which tell their own tale \ery prettily, and there have been many eloquent speeches made on a like silent system. Suffice it to add that the next ten minutes fonued such a nice, bright, sunshiny little piece of existence as might deserve to be cut out of the book of time, and framed, glazed, and hung up for the inspection of all true lovers ; whilst no match-making mamma, fortune-hunting younger brother, or girl of business on the look-out for a good establishment, should be allowed a glimpse of it at any price. CHAPTER XXXVII. THE FOELORN HOPE. -Cumljerland Seeks thj' hand ; His shall it Ije — nay, no reply ; Hence tUl those rebel eyes be dry." The Lord of the Itlei. Freddy Coleman was cheated of his walk that afternoon ; for an old maiden lady in the neighbourhood, having read in a Sunday paper that the plague was raging with great fuiy at Constantinople, thought it as well to be prepared for the worst, and summoned Mr. Coleman, to receive directions about making her will — and he being particularly engaged, sent Freddy in his stead, who set out on the mission in a state of comic ill-humour, which bid fair to render Mrs. Aikinside's will a vei-y original document indeed, and foreboded for that good old lady herself an xmprecedented and distracting after- noon. I had assisted Mr. Coleman in conducting Clara Saville to the carriage which arrived to convey her to Barstone, and had received 244 FRANK FAIRLEGH a kind glance and a slight pressure of the hand in return, which I would not have exchanged for the smiles of an empress, when, anxious to be alone with my o^vti thoughts, I started off for a solitary walk, nor did I relax my pace till I had left all traces of human habitation far behind me, and green fields and leafless hedges were my only companions. I then endeavoured in some measure to collect my scattered thoughts, and to reflect calmly on the position in which I had placed myself by the avowal the unexpected events of the morning had hurried me into. But so much was I excited, that calm reflection appeared next to impossible. Feeling— flushed with the victory it had obtained over its old antagonist. Reason- seemed, in every sense of the word, to have gained the day. and, despite all the difficulties that lay before me— difficulties which I knew must appear all but insurmountable whenever I should venture to look them steadily in the face— the one idea that Clara Saville loved me was ever present with me, and rendered me supremely liappy. , . ,, The condition of loving another better than ones sell, conven- tionally termed being " in love," is, to say the least, a very doubtful kind of happiness ; and poets have therefore, with great propriety, described it as " pleasing pain," " delicious misery," and in many other tei-ms of a like conti-adictory character; nor is it possible that this should be othei-wise ; love is a passion, wayward and impetuous in its very nature— agitating and disquieting in its effects, rendering its votary the slave of circumstances— a mere shuttlecock alternating between the extremes of hope and fear, joy and sorrow, confidence and mistrust- a thing which a smile can exalt to the highest pinnacle of delight, or a frown strike down to the depths of despair. Bvit in the consciousness that we are beloved, there is none of this questionable excitement ; on the contrary, we experience a sensation of deep, calm joy, as we reflect that in the true affection thus bestowed on us we have gained a possession which the cares and struggles of life are powerless to injure, and which death itself, though it may intennipt for awhile, will fail to destroy. These thoughts, or something like them, having entrenched them- selves in the stronghold of my imagination, for some time held their ground gallantly against the attacks of common-sense, but at length, repulsed on every point, they deemed it advisable to capitulate, or (to drop metaphor, a style of wi-iting I particularly abominate, perhaps because I never more than half imderstand what it means), in plain English, I, with a sort of grimace, such as one makes before swallowing a dose of physic, set myself seriously to work to reflect upon my present position, and decide on the best line of conduct to be pursued for the futm-e. Before otir conference came to an end, I had made Clara acquainted with my knowledge of Cumberland's former delinquencies, as well as the reputation in which he was now held by such of his associates as had any pretension to the title of gentlemen, and added FRANK FAIRLEGH 245 my conviction that, when once these facts were placed before Mr. Vemor, he must see that he could not, consistently with his duty as guardian, allow his ward to many a man of such character. Cumberland had no doubt contrived to keep his uncle in ignorance of his mode of life, and it would only be necessary to enlighten him on that point, to insure his consent to her breaking off the engage- ment. Clara appeared less sanguine of success, even hinting at the possibility of Mr. Vernor's being as well infonned in regard to his nephew's real character as we were ; adding, that his mind was too firmly set on the match for him to give it up lightly. It was finally agreed between us, that she was to let me know how affairs went on after Mr. Yeraor's return, and in the meantime I was to give the matter my serious consideration, and decide on the best course for us to follow. The only person in the establishment whom she could thoroughly trust was the extraordinary old footman (the subject of Lawless's little bit of diplomacy), who had sei's^ed under her father in the Peninsula, and accompanied him home in the character of confidential servant. He had consequently known Clara from a child, and was strongly attached to her, so that she had learned to regard him more in the light of a friend than a servant. Through this somewhat original substitute for a confidant, we arranged to communicate with each other. As to my o'wn line of conduct, I very soon decided on that. I would only await a communication from Clara to assure me that Mr. Vemor's determination with regard to her remained unchanged, ere I would seek an interview with him, enlighten him as to Cumberland's true character, acquaint him with Clara's aversion to the match, and induce him to allow of its being broken off. I should then tell him of my OAvn affection for her, and of my intention of coming forward to demand her hand, as soon as, by my i^rofessional exertions, I should have realized a sufficient independence to enable me to many. As to Clara's fortune, if fortune she had, she might build a church, endow a hospital, or buy herself bonnet-ribbons with it, as she pleased, for not a farthing of it would I ever touch on any considera- tion. No one should be able to say that it was for the sake of her money I sought to win her. Well, all this was veiy simple, straightforward work ; — where, then? were the difficulties which had alarmed me so greatly? Let me see — Mr. Yemor might choose to fancy that it would take some years to add to the ^90 14s. 6f d. sufficiently to enable me to support a wife and might disapprove of his ward's engaging herself to me on that account. What if he did ? I wished for no engagement — let her remain free as air — her own true affection would stand my friend, and on that I could rely, content, if it failed me, to — to — well, it did not signify what I might do in an emergency which never could arise. No ! only let him pi-omise not to force her inclinations — to give up his monstrous project of wedding her to Cumberland — and to leave her free to bestow her hand on whom she would — and I 246 FRANK FAIRLEGH should be perfectly satisfied. But suppose, as Clai-a seemed to fear, he should refuse to break off the engagement with his nephew- suppose he should forbid me the house, and, takiner advantage of my absence, use his authority to force on this hateful marriage ! All that would be extremely disagreeable, and I could not say I exactly saw, at the moment, what means I should be able to employ, effectually to prevent it. Still, it was only a remote contingency— an old man like him, with one foot, as you might say, in the grave (he could not have been above sixty, and his constitution, like evei-y- thing else about him, appeared of cast-iron), must have some conscience, must pay some little regard to right and wrong : it would only be necessai-y to open his eyes to the enormity of wedding beauty and innocence such as Clara's to a scoimdrel like Cum])erhind —a man destitute of every honourable feeling— oh ! he must see that the thing was impossible, and, as the thought passed through my mind, I longed for the moment when I should be confronted with him, and able to tell him so. And Clara, too! sweet, bewitching, unhappy Clara! what must not she have gone through, ere a mind, naturally buoyant and elastic as hers, could have Ijeen cnished into a state of such utter dejection, such calm, spiritless despair! her only wish, to die— her only hope to find in the grave a place " where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest ! " But brighter days were in store for her —it should be my ambition to render her mamed life so happy that, if possible, the recollection of all she had suffered having passed away, her mind should recover its natural tone, and even her light- ness of heart, which the chill atmosphere of imkindness for a time had blighted, should revive again in the warm sunshine of affection. Thus meditating, I amved at Elm Lodge in a state of feeling containing about equal parts of the intensely poetical and the very decidedly hungiy. On the second morning after the events I have described, a note was brought to me whilst I was dressing. With trembling fingers I tore open the envelope, and read as follows :— "I promised to inf onn you of what occurred on my return here, and I must therefore do so, though what I have to communicate will only give you pain. All that my fears pointed at has come to pass, and my doom appears in-evocably sealed. Late on the evening of my return to Barstone, Mr. Vemor and his nephew arrived. I never shall forget the feeling of agony that shot through my brain, as Richard Cumberland's footstep sounded in the hall, knowing, as I too well did, the purpose with which he was come. I fancied grief had in great measure deadened my feelings, but that moment served to undeceive me— the mixture of hoiTor, aversion, and fear, combined with a sense of utter helplessness and desolation, seemed, as it were, to paralyze me. " But I know not why I am writing all this. The evening passed off without anything particular taking place. Mr. Cumberland's FRANK FAIRLEGH 247 manner towards me was i-egtilated by the most consummate tact and cunning, allowing the deep interest he pretends to feel in me to appear in every look and action, yet never going far enough to afford me an excuse for repulsing him. This morning, however, I have had an inteiwiew with Mr. Yemor, in which I stated my repugnance to the maii-iage as strongly as possible. He was fearfully iiTitated, and at length, on my repeating my refusal, plainly told me that it was useless for me to resist his will— that I was in his power, and, if I continued obstinate, I must be made to feel it. Oh ! that man's anger is ten-ible to witness : it is not that he is so violent— he never seems to lose his self-control— but says the most cutting things in a tone of calm, sarcastic bitterness, which lends double force to all he utters. I feel that it is useless for us to contend against fate : you cannot help me, and would only embroil yourself with these men were you to attempt to do so. I shall ever look back upon the few days we spent together as a bright spot in the dark void of my life— that life which you presers'ed at the risk of your own. Alas ! you little knew the cruel nature of the gift you were bestowing. And now farewell for ever ! That you may find all the happiness your kind- ness and generosity deserve is the earnest prayer of one whom, for her sake as well as your own, you must strive to forget." " If I do forget her," exclaimed I, as I pressed the note to my lips, " may I — "Well, never mind, I'll go over and have it out with that old bi-ute this vei-y morning, and we'll see if he can frighten me." And so saying, I set to work to finish dressing, in a great state of virtuous indignation. "Preddy," inquired I, when breakfast was at length concluded, " where can I get a horse ? " " Get a horse ? " was the reply. " Oh ! there are a gi-eat many places — it depends upon what kind of a horse you want : for race- horses, steeple-chasers, and hunters, I would recommend Tattersall's ; for hacks or machiners, there's Aldridge's, in St. Martin's Lane; while Dixon's, in the Barbican, is the place to pick up a fine young cart-horse — is it a young cart-horse yoiT want ? " " My dear fellow, don't won-y me," returned I, feeling very cross and trying to look amiable ; " you know what I mean ; is there any- thing rideable to be hired in Hillingford P I have a call to make which is beyond a walk." " Let me see," replied Freddy, musing; " you wouldn't like a vei-y little pony, with only one eye and a rat-taU, I suppose — it might look absurd with your long legs, I'm afraid — or else Mrs. Meek, the undertaker's widow, has got a very quiet one that poor Meek used to ride — a child could manage it. There's the butcher's fat mare, but she won't stir a step without the basket on her back, and it would be so troublesome for you to cany that all the way. Tomkins, the sweep, has got a little horse he'd let you have, I dai-e say, but it always comes off black on one's trousers ; and the miller's cob is just as bad the other way with the floui*. I know a donkey — " 248 FRANK FAIRLEGH " So do 1." was the answer, as. laujfhiuff in spite of myself, I turned to hnivt) tlitf room. " HtMc. stop ii minute!" cried Freddy, following me. "you are so drt'julfully impetuous; there's nothinjf morally wronjf in beinjf accpiiiint^Hl with a donkey, is there? I assure you I did not mean any tiling' pt>rsonal; and now for a word of sense. Bumpus, at the (JrtM'u Rlau, has >;ot a treuiendous horse, which nearly friffhtened me into tits tlio only time 1 ever mounted him. so that it will just suit you ; nohody hut a groon man. or a knif?ht-eri-ant, which I consider iiiucli tlio same sort of thinj,'-, woidd patronize such an animal — still lie's the only one I know of." Coleman's tremendous horse, which proved to be a tall, pigheaded, hard-iuouthed hrutt^. with a very decided will of his own, condescended, after sundry skirmishes and one pitched battle, occasioned liy his positive refusal to pass a windmill, to go tlie road I wished, and about an lunir's ride brought me to tlie gate of Barstone Park. So i-ou\pleti>ly ii;id I l>oou Inn-riod on by feeling in every stage of the atl'air. ami so entirely had all minor considerations given way to the paramount object of securing Clara's happiness, vnih which, as I now felt, my o^^^x was indissolubly linked, that it was not until my eye rested cm the cold gray stone of Barstone Priory, and wandered over the straight walks and formal lawns of the garden, that I l>ecame fully aware of the extremely awkward and emlxirrassing nature of the intorviow I was about to seek. To force myself into the presence of a man more than double my own age. and. from all I had seen or heard of him. one of the last i.>eople in the world to take a liberty with, for the purpose of informing him that his nephew, the only creatui-o on earth that he was supposed to love, was a low swindler, the associate of gamblei-s and blacklegs, did not appear a line of condnct exactly calculated to induce him. at my request, to give up a scheme on which he had sot his heart, or to look with a favoui-able eye on my Vnvtonsions to the hand of his ward. Still, there was no help for it ; the happiness of her I loved was at stake, and had it been to face a tieud instead of a man. I should not have hesitated. ^fy meditations were here interrupted by a cook-pheasant, which, alarmed at n\y appivach. rose immediately \inder my horse's nose ; an uuexiHvted incident, which caxised that bnite to shy violently, and turn short round, thereby nearly unseating me. Having by this mananivre gv'vt his head towards home, he not only refused to turn back again, but showed very unmistakable symptoms of a desire to run away. Fortunately, however, since the days of '"Mad Bess." my jurms had gl\■>^^-n consideKxbly sti'onger. and. by dint of puHing and sjiwiug the creature's apology- for a mouth with the bit, I was enabled to frustmto his Wnevolent intentions, and even succeeded in turning" him ivund again ; but here my |^K>wer ceased — for in the dii-ection of the Priory by no p*.>ssibility coidd I indxxce him to move a step. I whipi-XHl and spurivd. but in vain ; the only resxilt w-as a series of kicks and lounges, accompanied by a ren-ograde movement and a FRANK FAIRLEGH 24f> shako of the head, as if he were sayincf, No ! I next attempted the soothing system, and lavished sundry caresses and endearing- expressions upon him, of which he was utterly undeserving ; but my attentions were quite thrown away, and might as well, for any good they produced, have been bestowed upon a rocking-horse. At length, after a final sti-uggle, in which we were both within an ace of falling into a water- coiu'se which crossed the park in that direction, I gave the matter up as hopeless ; and with a sigh (for I love not to be foiled in anything I have attempted, and, moreover, I could not help looking upon it as an unlucky omen) dismounted, and, leading my rebellious steed by the I'ein, advanced on foot towards the house. As I did so, a figm-e abruptly tm-ned the comer of a shi-ubbery walk, which ran at right angles to the road, and I found myself face to face with Richard Cumberland ! For a moment he remained staring at me as if he scarcely recognized me, or was unwilling to triist the evidence of his senses, so confounded was he at my unexpected apparition ; but as I met his gaze with a cold, stem look, he seemed to doubt no longer, and advancing a step towards me, said in a tone of ironical politeness, — " Is it possible that I have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Fairlegh ? " " None other, Mr. Cumberland," returned I, " though I could hardly have flattered myself that my appearance would have recalled any very pleasurable associations, considering the last two occasions on which we met." " Ah ! you refer to that unfortunate affair with Wilford." replied Cumberkmd, pm-posely misunderstanding my allusion to Dr. Mild- man's. " I had hoped to have been able to prevent the mischief which occuiTed, but I was misinfoiTued as to the time of the meeting — I trust our friend Oaklands feels no ill effects from his wound." '■ Mr. Oaklands, I am soriy to say, recovers but slowly ; the wound was a very severe one," returned I coldly. '■ Well, I will not detain you any longer ; it is a lovely moming for a ride," resumed Cumberland ; " can I be of any assistance in direct- ing you ? the lanes in this neighbourhood are somewhat inti-icate — you are not perhaps awai-e that the road you are now following is a private one ? " " Scarcely so private that those who have business with Mr. Yei'nor may not make use of it, I presume," rejoined I. '■ Oh, of course not," was the reply ; '" I did not know that you were acquainted with my imcle ; though, now I come to think of it, I do recollect his saying that he had met you somewhere. He seldom receives visitors in the moming — in fact, when I came out, I left him particulaiiy engaged. Perhaps I can save you the trouble of going up to the house ; is there any message I can deliver for you !■' " " I thank you," replied I, " but I do not think the business which has brought me here could be well ti-ansacted through a thu-d person ; at all events, I will take my chance of being admitted." I 250 FRANK FAIRLEGH paused, but coxild not refrain from adding, " Besides, if my memory fails not. you were a somewhat lieedless messenger in days of yore." This aUusion to his embezzlement of Oaklands' letter stung him to the quick : he turaed as white as ushes, and asked, in a voice that trembled with passion, " whether I meant to insult him ! " " I spoke heedlessly, and without deliljerate intention," I replied ; " but perhaps it is only fair to tell you that for the future there can be no friendly communication between us ; we must either avoid each other altogether, which would be the most desirable an-angement, or meet as strangers. The disgi-aceful conduct of the boy I could have forgiven and forgotten, had not its memory been revived by the evil deeds of the man. Richard Cimiberland, I know you thoroughly; it is needless for me to add more." As I spoke his cheek flushed, then grew pale again with shame and anger, while he bit his under lip so severely that a red line remained where his teeth had pressed it. When I concluded, he advanced towards me with a threatening gesture, but, unable to meet the steadfast look with which I [confronted him, he tunied abruptly on his heel, and muttering, " You shall repent this," disappeared among the shrubs. CHAPTER XXXYIII. FACING THE ENEMY. " Sir," said the count, with brow exceeding grave, " Your unexpected presence here will make It necessary for myself to crave Its import ? But perhaps it's a mistake. , I hope it is so ; and at ouce, to waive * All compliment, I hope so for your sake. You understand my meaning, or you skall." Beppo. •" Is your master— is Mr. Yemor at home ? " inquired I of the giim- visaged old servant, who looked, if possible, taller and more wooden than when I had last seen him. " Well, I suppose not, sir ! " was the somewhat odd reply. " Tou suppose ! " repeated I ; "if you have any doubt, had you not better go and see ? " " That won't be of no manner of use, sir," was the rejoinder ; " I should not be none the wiser." It was clear that the old man was a complete original ; but his affection for Clara was a virtue which in my eyes would have atoned FRANK FAIRLEGH 251 for any amount of eccentricity ; and as I was anxious to stand well in his good graces. I determined to fall in with his humour ; accord- ingly I replied with a smile, " How do you make out that — did you never hear that seeing is believing ? " " Not always, sir," he answered, " for if I 'd a trusted to my eye- sight — and it ain't so bad neither for a man that's no great way off sixty — I should have fancied Muster Wemor was a sitting in the liber-aiy, but he told me he was not at home hisself , and he ought to know best." " Tell him I won't detain him long," returned I, " but that I am come on business of importance.'' " 'Tain't of no manner of use, yoiuig gentleman," was the reply ; " he told me he wasn't at home, and he said it •uncommon cross, too, as if he meant it, and if I was to go to him twenty times he'd only say the same thing.'" " What's your name, my good friend ? " inqiiired I. " Peter Barnett, at your ser\ace, sir," was the answer. " Well, then, Peter, we must contrive to understand one another a little better. You have known your young mistress from a child, and have a sincere regard for her — is it not so ? " " What, Miss Clara, God bless her ! — why, I love her as if she was my own flesh and blood ; I should be a bnite if I didn't, poor lamb ! " " Well, then, when I tell you that her happiness is very nearly connected with the object of my visit — when I say that it is to prevent her from being obliged to do something of which she has the gi-eatest abhon-ence that I am anxious to meet Mr. Yemoi* — I am sui'e you will contrive that I shall see him." As I concluded, the old man, muttenng to himself, " That's it, is it ? " began to examine me from top to toe with a critical glance, as if I had been some animal he was about to purchase ; and when he reached my face, gazed at me long and fixedly, as though striving to read my character. Apparently the result of his scrutiny was favourable, for after again saying in a low tone, " Well, I likes the looks of him," he added, " This way, young gentleman — you shall see him if that's what you want — it ain't a hanging matter, after all." As he spoke, he threw open the door of the library, saying, " Gentle- man says his business is werry pai-tiklar, so I thought you'd better see him yoiu-self." Mr. y ei-nor, who was seated at a table writing, rose on my entrance, bowed stiffly to me, and, casting a withering glance on Peter Bamett, signed to him to shut the door. As soon as that worthy had obeyed the command, he resumed his seat, and, addi'essing me with the same frigid politeness which he had shown on the occasion of my first visit to him, said, " I am somewhat occupied this morning, and must therefore be excused for inquiring at once what very particular lousiness Mr. Fairlegh can have with me." His tone and manner, as he spoke, were such as to render me 252 FRANK FAIRLEGH fully aware of the pleasant nature of the task before me ; namely, to make the most di8a<,'reeable communication possible, to the most disagreeable person to whom such a communication could be niade. Still, I was regularly in for it ; there was nothing left for me but to "go ahead;" and as I thus thouglit of Clara and her sorrows, the task seemed to lose half its difficulty. However, it was not without some hesitation that I began, — " When you leam the object of my visit, sir, you will perceive that I have not intruded upon you without reason." I paused ; but, find- ing he remained silent, added : " As you are so much occupied this morning, I had better perhaps enter at once upon the business which has broiight me here. You are prolxibly aware that I have had the pleasure of spending the last few days in the same house with Miss Saville." As I mentioned Clara's name, his brow gi-ew dark as night ; but he still continued silent, and I proceeded : " It is, I should con- ceive, impossible for anyone to enjoy the privilege of that young lady's society, without experiencing the warmest feelings of admira- tion and interest. Towards the termination of her visit, accident led me to the knowledge of her acquaintance with Mr. Cumberland, who I then learned, for the fii-st time, was your nephew. I would not willingly say anything which might distress or annoy you, Mr. Yemor," continued I, interrupting myself ; " but I fear that, in order to make myself intelligible, I must advert to an affair which I would willingly have forgotten." " Go on, sir," was the reply, in a cold sarcastic tone of voice — '' pray finish your accormt Avithout reference to my feelings ; 1 am not likely to alarm your sensibility by any affecting display of them." As the most sceptical could not have doubted for a moment the truth of this assertion, I resumed : " From my previous knowledge of Mr. Cumberland's character, I could not but consider him an unfit acquaintance for a young lady ; and on hinting this, and endeavour- ing to ascertain the extent of Miss Saville's intimacy with him, I was equally shocked and siirprised to leam that she was actually engaged to him, and that you not only sanctioned the engagement, but were even desirous that the match should take place. Feeling sm-e that this could only proceed from your being ignorant of the character of the class of persons with whom your nephew associates, and the more than questionable reputation he has thereby acquired, I con- sidered it my duty to afford you such information as may enable you to ascertain for yourself the truth of the reports which have reached ray ear." " Exceedingly conscientious and praiseworthy : I ought to feel infinitely indebted to you, 'young gentleman," inteiTupted Mr. Vemor sarcastically ; " of course you made the young lady acquainted with your disinterested and meritorious intentions ? " " I certainly thought it right to inform Miss Saville of the facts I have mentioned, and to obtain her permission, ere I ventured to interfere in her behalf." FRANK FAIRLEGH 253 As I spoke, the ^loom on Mr. Yemor's brow grew darker, and I expected an outbiu-st of rage, but bis self-control was sti-onger than I bad imagined, for it was in the same cold, ironical manner tbat be replied, "And may I ask, supposing tbis iniquitous engagement to bave been broken off by your exertions, is Yirtue to be its own reward ? will you sit down content witb baving done yom* duty ? or bave you not some snug little scbeme ' in petto,' to console tbe dis- consolate damsel for ber loss ? If I am not mistaken, you were professing warm feelings of admiration for my ward a few minutes since." " Had you waited tiU I bad jfinisbed speaking, you would bave perceived, sir, tbat yom- taunt was undeserved. I bave no wisb to conceal anything from you — on tbe contrary, one of my chief objects in seeking tbis interview was to inform you of the deep and sincere affection I entertain for Miss Saville, and of my intention of coming forward to seek ber band, as soon as my professional prospects shall enable me to support a wife." " And bave you succeeded in inducing tbe lady to promise tbat, in the event of my allowing ber to break off ber present engagement, she will wait for the somewhat remote and visionaiy contingency you bave hinted at ? " " I have never made tbe attempt, sir," replied I, drawing myself up proudly, for I began to think that I was can-ying forbearance too far, in submitting thus tamely to his repeated insults ; "my only desire is to convince you of the necessity of breaking off this pre- posterous engagement, which is alike unsuitable in itself and dis- tasteful to Miss Saville ; for tbe rest, I must tnist to time, and to tbe unshaken constancy of my own affection (witb which it is only fair to tell you tbe young lady is acquainted), for the accomplishment of my hopes. Had I the power to fetter your ward by a promise which she might afterwards be led to repent, nothing should induce me to make use of it." " Really, your moderation is quite unparalleled," exclaimed Mr. Yemor ; " such generosity now might be almost calculated to induce a romantic girl to persuade her guardian to allow ber to maiTy at once, and devote her fortune to tbe purpose of defraying the house- bold expenses, till such a time as tbe professional expectations you mention should be realized ; and Clara Saville is just the girl who might do it, for I am afraid I must distress your magnanimity by in- forming you of a circumstance of which, of course, you bave not the slightest idea at present, namely, tbat if Miss Saville should marry witb her guardian's consent, she will become tbe possessor of a very considerable fortune : what think you of sncli a plan ? " " Mr. Yemor," repbed I, " I was aware that tbe commimication I bad to make to you was calculated to pain and annoy you, and tbat circumstances obbged me to urge my suit at a moment most dis- advantageous to its success ; I did not therefore imagine that our intei-view was likely to be a very agreeable one ; but I own I did 254 FRANK FAIRLEGH expect to have credit f?iven me for honourable motives, and to be treated with the consideration due from one gentleman to another." " It grieves me to have disappointed such moderate and reasonable expectations," was the reply ; " but, unfortunately, I have acquired a habit of judging men rather by their actions than their words, and forming my opinion accordingly ; and by the opinion thus formed I regulate my conduct towards them." " May I inquire what opinion you can possibly have formed of me,, which would justify your treating me otherwise than as a gentleman ? " asked I, as calmly as I was able, for I was most anxious not to allow him to perceive the degree to which his taunts imtated me. " Certainly ; only remember, if it is not exactly what you approve, that I mention it in compliance with your owti express request— but first, for I am unwilling to do you injustice, let me be sure that I understand you clearly :— you state that you are unable to man-y till you shall have realized by your profession an income sufficient to suppoi-t a wife ; therefore I presume that your patrimony is some- what limited." " You are right, sir; my poor father was too liberal a man to die rich; my present income is somewhat less than .£100 per annum." " And your profession ? " "It is my intention to begin reading for the bar almost imme- diately." " A profession usually more honourable than lucrative for the fii'st ten years or so. Well, young gentleman, the case seems to stand very much as I imagined, nor do I perceive any i-eason for altering my opinion of your conduct. Chance throws in your way a young lady, possessing great beauty, who is prospective heiress to a veiy valuable property, and it naturally enough occurs to you that making love is likely to be more agreeable, and in the present instance more profitable also, than reading law; accordingly you commence operations, and for some time all goes on swimmingly. Miss Saville, like any other girl in her situation, having no objection to vary the monotony of a long engagement by a little innocent flirtation — affairs of this kind, however, seldom run smoothly long together— and at some moment, when you were rather more pressing than usual, the young* lady thinks it advisable to inform you that, in accordance with her father's dying wish, and of her own free will, she has engaged herself to the nephew of her guardian, who strangely enough happens to be an old schoolfellow of yours, against whom you have always nourished a strong and unaccountable feeling of dislike. Here, then, was a famous opportunity to display those talents for plotting and mancBuvring which distinguished Mr. Fairlegh even in his boyish days ; accordingly, a master-scheme is invented, whereby the guardian shall be cajoled and browbeaten into giving his consent, enmity satisfied by the rival's discomfiture and overthrow, and talent re- warded by obtaining possession of the yoimg lady and her fortune. As a first step you take advantage of a lovers' quan-el to persuade FRANK FAIRLEGH 25& Miss Saville that she is averse to the pj'ojected alliance, and triunp up an old tale of some boyish scrape, to induce her to believe Cum- berland unworthy of her preference, ending, doubtless, by modestly proposing yourself as a substitute. Inexperience, and the natural capriciousness of woman, stand yoiir friend ; the young lady appears for the moment gained over, and, flushed with success, the bold step of this morning is resolved upon. Such, sir, is my opinion of your conduct. It only remains for nie to inform you that I have not the slightest intention of breaking off the engagement in consequence of your disinterested representations, nor, under any circumstances,, would I allow my ward to throw herself away upon a needy fortune- hunter. There can be nothing more to say, I think ; and as I have some important papers to look over this morning, I dare say you will excuse my ringing the bell." " One moment, sir," replied I warmly : " although your age pre- vents my taking notice of the unprovoked insults you have seen fit to heap upon me — " " Really," interposed Mr. Yemor, in a deprecating tone, " you must pardon me ; I have not time for all this sort of thing to-day." '■ You SHALL hear me ! " exclaimed I passionately ; " I have listened in silence to accusations calculated to make the blood of any man, worthy to be so called, boil in his veins — accusations, which, at the very moment you utter them, you know to be entirely false : you know well Miss Saville's just and deeply-rooted aversion to this match, and you know that it existed before she and I had ever met ; you know the creditable nature of what you term the ' boyish scrape,' in which your nephew was engaged— a scrape which, but for the generous forbearance of othei's, might have ended in his transportation as a convicted felon ; and this knowledge (even if you are ignorant of the dishonom-able and vicious course of life he now leads) should be enough to prevent your sanctioning such a maiTiage. I pass over yoiu- insinuations respecting myself in silence ; should I again prefer my suit for Miss Saville's hand to you, it will be as no needy f oi-tune-hunter that I shall do so ; but once moi'e let me implore you to pause — reconsider the matter — inquire for yourself into your nephew's pursuits — ascertain the character of his associates, and then judge whether he is a fit person to be entrusted with the happiness of such a being as Clara Saville." " Yastly well, sir ! exceedingly dramatic, indeed ! " observed Mr. Yeraor, with a sneer ; " you really have quite a talent for — genteel comedy, I think they call it ; you would be perfect in the line of character termed the ' walking gentlemen' — have you ever thought of the stage ? " "I perceive," replied I, "that by remaining here, I shall only subject myself to additional insult : determined to carry out youi" own bad purpose, you obstinately close your ears to the voice ali ke of reason and of conscience ; and now," 1 added in a stern tone, " hear my resolve : I have promised Miss Saville to save her from Eichard 256 FRANK FAIRLEGH Cumberland : as the fairest and most honourable way of doint' so, I applied to you. her lawful guardian and protector ; I have failed, and you have insulted and defied me. I now tell you that I will leave NO MEANS untried to defeat your nefarious project, and, if evil or disfrrace should befall you or yoiirs in consequence, upon your own head 1)6 it. You may smile at my words, and disregard them as idle threats which I am powerless to fulfil, but, remember, you have no longer a helpless girl to deal with, but a determined man, who, with right and justice on his side, may yet thwart your ciumingly -devised schemes ; and so, having given you fair warning, I will leave you." " Allow me to mention one fact, young sir," returned Mr. Veraor, ■" which demands your serious attention, as it may prevent you from committing a fatal eiTor, and save you all further trouble. Shoiild Clara Saville marry without my consent, she does so penniless, and the fortune devolves upon the next heir ; ha ! " he exclaimed, as I was unable to repress an exclamation of pleasure, " have I touched you there ? " " Tou have indeed, sir," was my reply ; " for you have removed the only scruple which stood in my way. No one can now accuse me of interested motives ; ' needy fortune-hunters ' do not seek to ally themselves to portionless damsels ; allow me to offer you my best thanks for your information, and to wish you good-morning, sir." So saying, I rose and quitted the room, leaving Mr. Vernor. in a state of ill-suppressed rage, to the enjoyment of his own reflections. On entering the hall, I found old Peter Barnett awaiting me. As I appeared, his stiff featvn-es lighted up with a most sagacious grin of intelligence, and approaching me, he whispered,— " Did ye give it him strong ? " (indicating the person he refen-ed to by an expressive jerk of his thumb towards the library door). " I heard ye blowing of him up— but did ye give it him reg'lar strong? " " I certainly told Mr. Vemor my opinion with tolerable plainness," replied I, smiling at the intense delight which was visible in every line of the strange old face beside me. "No! Did ye?— did ye? That was right," was the rejoinder. " Lor' ! how I wish I'd a been there to see ; but I heard ye, though— I heard ye a-giving it to him ; " and again he relapsed into a pai'oxysm of delight. " Peter," said I, " I want to have a little private conversation with you— how is that to be managed ? Is there any place near where you could meet me ? " " You come here from Hillingford, didn't ye, sir ? " I nodded assent. He continued :— " Did you notice a hand-post which stands where four roads meet, about a mile and a half from here ? " " I saw it," returned I, " and even tried to read what was painted on it, but of course, after the manner of all country direction posts, it was totally illegible." " Well, when you get there, take the load to the left, and ride on FRANK FAIRLEGH 257 till ye see an ale-house on the right-hand side, and stay there till I come to ye." " I wiU," replied I, " but don't keep me waiting longer than you can help — there's a good man." An understanding grin was his only answer ; and mounting my unpleasant horse (who seemed much more willing to proceed quietly when his head was turned in a homeward direction), I rode slowly through the park, my state of mind affording a practical illustration that Quintus Horatius Flaccus was about right in his conjecture that Care sometimes indulged herself with a little equestrian exercise on a pillion.' CHAPTER XXXIX. THE COUNCIL OF WAK. " Oh ! good old man : how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world ! " A» Tou Like It. "Now will I deliver his letter; for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding."— riceZ/VA Night. " Farewell ! be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains. Farewell ! commend me to thy mistress." Someo and Juliet. The place of meeting appointed by Peter Bamett was easily discovered, and having tied up my horse under a shed, which served the double purpose of stable and coach-house, I took possession of a small room with a sanded floor, and throwing myself back in a most uneasy easy-chair, began to think over my late interview, and endeavour to devise some practicable plan for the futiu-e. The first thing was to establish some means of free communication with Clara, and this I hoped to accomplish by the assistance of Peter Barnett. I should thus learn Mr. Vemor's proceedings, and be able to regulate my conduct accordingly. If, as I di-eaded, he should attempt to force on the marriage immediately, would Clara, alone and un- assisted, have sufficient courage and strength of purpose to resist him ? I feared not ; and how was I effectually to aid her ? The question was more easily asked than answered. It was clear that her fortune was the thing aimed at, for I could not believe either Mr. Vemor or his nephew likely to be actuated by disinterested motives ; — and it was to their avarice, then, that Clara was to be sacrificed — had she been portionless she would have been free to man-y whom she pleased. Of all sources of evil and miseiy, money appears to be the most prolific ; in the present case its action was 1 "Postequitem sedet arta cura." 258 FRANK FAIRLEGH twofold — Clara was rendered wretched in consequence of posBessinf? it, while the want of it incapacitated me from boldly claimintf her hand at once, which appeared to Ije the only effectual method of assisting her. My meditations were at this point interrupted by the arrival of my future privy councillor, Peter Barnett, who marched solemnly into the room, drew himself up to his full height, which very nearly equalled that of the ceiling, brought his hand to his forehead in a military salute, and then, closing the door cautiously, iind with an air of mystery, stood at ease, e\idently intending me to oi)en the conversation. " Well, Peter," began I, by way of something to say, for I felt the gi-eatest difficulty in entering on the subject which then occupied my thoughts, before such an auditor. " Well. Pet«r, you have not kept me waiting long ; I scai-cely expected to see you so soon : do you imagine that Mr. Vemor will remark your absence ? " " He knows it already," was the reply. " Why, bless ye, sir, he ordered me to go out hisself." " Indeed ! how was that ? " " Why, as soon as you was gone, sir, he pulled the boll like mad. ' Send Mr. Richard here,' says he. ' Yes, sir,' says I, ' certingly ; only he's not at home, sir.' When he heard this he grumbled out an oath, or sumthin' of that nature, and I was going to take myself off, for I see he wasn't altogether safe, when he roars out, ' Stop ! ' (' You'd a-said " halt," if you'd a-been a officer or a gentleman, which you ain't neither,' thinks I.) ' What do you mean by letting people in when I have given orders to the contrairy ." ' says he. ' Who was it as blowed me up for sending away a gent as said he wanted to see you on partiklar business, only yesterday ? ' says I. That bothered him nicely, and he didn't know how to be down upon me ; but at last he thought he'd serve me one of his old tricks. So he says, ' Peter, what are you doing to-day ? ' I see what he was at, and I thought I'd ketch him in his own trap. * Very busy a-cleaning plate, sir,' says I. This was enough for him: if I was a-cleaning plate, in course I shouldn't like to be sent out ; so says he, ' Go down to Barnsley, and see whether Mr. Cumberland is there.' ' But the plate, sir?' 'Never mind the plate.' 'It won't never look as it ought to do, if I am sent about in this way,' says I. ' Do as you're ordered, and leave the room instantly,' says he, gi-inding his teeth reg'lar savage-like. So J took him at his word, and come away to see you as hard as I could pelt ; but you've put him into a sweet temper, Mr. Fairlegh." " Why, that, I'm afraid, was scarcely to be avoided," replied I, " as my business was to inform him that I considered his nephew an unfit person to maiTy his ward." " Oh ! did you tho' ?— did you tell him that ? " cried my companion, with a chuckle of delight; " that was right : I wonder how he liked that ? " FRANK FAIRLEGH 259 " As lie did not exactly agree with me in tliis opinion, but, on tlie contrary, plainly declared his intention of proceeding with the match in spite of me, it is necessary for me to consider what means I can best use to prevent him from accomplishing his object ; it is in this that I shall require your assistance." "And what does Miss Clara say about it, young gentleman?" inquired the old man, fixing his eyes on me with a scrutinizing glance. " Miss Saville dislikes Richard Cumberland, and dreads the idea of being forced to maiTy him above everything." " Ah ! I know she does, poor lamb ! and well she may, for there ain't a more dissipateder young scoundrel to be found nowhere than Mr. Wemor's precious ' nephew,' as he calls him, tho' it's my belief he might call him ' son ' without telling a lie." " Indeed ! I was not aware that Mr. Yemor had ever been mairied." " No ; I never heard that he was reg'lar downright married ; but he may be his son, for all that. Howsumever, p'raps it is so, or p'raps it ain't ; I'm only a-tellin' you what I fancies, sir," was the reply. " But what I wanted to know," he continued, again fixing his eyes on my face, " is, what does Miss Clara say to you ? eh ! " "You put home questions, my friend," replied I, colouring slightly ; " however, as Miss Saville teUs me you are faithful and trustworthy, and as half-confidences are never of any use, I suppose you must hear all about it." I then told him as concisely as possible of my love for Clara, and my hopes of one day calling her my own ; pointing out to him the difficulties that stood in the way, and explaining to him that the only one which appeared to me insur- mountable was the probability of Mr. Yenior's attempting to force Clai-a into an immediate marriage with Cumberland. Having thus given him an insight into the true state of affairs, I showed him the necessity of establishing some means of communication between Clara and myself, as it was essential that I should receive the earliest possible information in regard to Mr. Yenior's proceedings. " I understand, sir," inteiTupted Peter, "you want to be able to write to each other without the old \m getting hold of your letters : well, that's very easily managed ; only you direct to Mr. Baniett, to be left at the Pig and Pony, at Barstone ; and anything you send for Miss Clara, I'll take care and give her when nobody won't be none the wiser for it; and any letters she \\T^tes I'll put into the post myself. I'd do anything rather than let that yoimg yiUain Cumberland have her, and make her miserable, which his wife is safe to be, if ever he gets one ; and if you likes her and she likes you, as seems werry probable, considering you saved her from being burnt to death, as they tell me, and is weiTy good-looking into the bargain— which goes a great way with young ladies, if you'll excuse the liberty I takes in mentioning of it— why, the best thing as you can do, is to get man-ied as soon as you can." "Yery pleasant advice, friend Peter," retui-ned I, "but not so 260 FRANK FAIRLEGH easily fwted upon; people cannot marry nowadays witliout eome- tliincr to live upon." " Well, ain't Miss Clara got Barstone PrioiT. and plenty of money to keep it up with ? Won't that do to live upon ? " " And do you imagine I coidd ever feel content to be the creature of my wife's bounty ? prove myself a needy fortune-hunter, as that old man dared to term me ? " exclaimed I, forgetting the character of my auditor. " Barstone Priory to live in, and more money than you know what to do with, ain't to be sneezed at neither," was the answer ; " though I likes your independent spirit too, sir : but how do you mean to manage, then ? " " Why, Mr. Vemor hinted that if his ward man-ied without his consent her fortune was to be forfeited." " Ah ! I believe there was something of that nature in the will : my poor master was so wrapped up in old Wenior that he wrote just what he told him ; if he'd only lived to see how he was going to use Miss Clara, he'd a-ordered me to kick him out of the house instead." " Perhaps that pleasure may be yet in store for you, Peter," replied I, laughing at the zest with which he uttered the last few words, and an involuntary motion of the foot by which they were accompanied; "but this powei', which it seems Mr. Vemor really possesses, of depriving Miss Saville of her fortune, removes my gi-eatest difficulty; for in that case, if he should attempt to urge on this match, I can at least make her the offer of sharing my poverty ; there is my mother's roof to shelter her, and if her guardian refuses his consent to our man'iage, why, we must contrive to do without it^ that is all. So now, Peter, if you will wait a few minutes, I will give you a note for your young mistress, and then get to horse without further loss of time ; " and calling for pen, ink, and paper, I hastily scribbled a few lines to Clara, informing her of the events of the morning, and of my unalterable determination to save her from a union with Cumbo-land ; begging her, at the same time, to continue firm in her opposition, to acquaint me wdth everything that might occur, and to rely upon me for protection in the event of anything like force being resorted to. I then intrusted my note to old Peter, begged him to watch Master Richard Cumberland closely, told him that upon his care and vigilance depended in gi'eat measure the happiness of his young mistress's life; tipped him handsomely,, though I had some trouble in making him take the money; and mounting my ill-disposed horse, rode back to Hillingford, on the whole tolerably well satisfied with my morning's work. I found two letters awaiting my return : one from my mother, to say that she should be at Heathfield Cottage on the following day, and begging me to meet her ; the other from Ellis, telling me that at length he hoped Oaklands was in a fair way to recover, it having been ascertained that a piece of the wadding of the pistol had remained behind when the ball was extracted ; this had FRANK FAIRLEGH 261 now come away, and the wound was healing rapidly. As Ms strength returned, Harry was growing extremely impatient to get hack to Heathfield ; and Ellis concluded hy saying that they might he expected any day, and begging me at the same time to remember that from the first he had always declared, in regard to his patient, that it would have killed any other man, but that it could not kiU him. Days glided by, the absentees retiirned, and matters fell so com- pletely into their old train again that the occun-ences of the last eight months seemed like the unreal creations of some fevered dream, and there were times when I could scarcely bring myself to believe them true. Han-y Oaklands had recovered sufficiently to resume his usual habits ; and, except that he was strictly forbidden to over-exert or fatigue himself (an injunction he appeared only too willing to obey), he was nearly emancipated from medical control. Fanny had in great measure regained her good looks again ; a slight delicacy of appearance, however, still remained, giving a tone of spirituality to the expression of her features, which was not before observable, and which to my mind rendered her prettier than ever : the Jistlessness of manner which had made me uneasy about her in the autumn had vanished, and her spirits seemed good ; still, she was in a degree altered, and one felt in talking to her that she was a child no longer. Like Undine, that gi-aceful creation of La Motte Fouqu6's genius, she appeared to have changed from a " tricksy sprite " into a thinking and feeling woman. One morning Oaklands and Ellis came to the cottage together, the latter in a great state of joy and excitement, produced by a most kind and judicious exercise of liberality on the part of Sir John. About a month before, the grave and pompous Dr. Probehurt had been seized with an illness, from which in aU probability he would have recovered had he not steadily refused to allow a rival practi- tioner to be called in, in order that he might test a favourite theory of his own, embodying a totally novel mode of treatment for the complaint with which he was attacked. Unfortunately, the experi- ment failed, and the doctor died. Sir John, who had been long anxious to evince his gratitude to Ellis for the skiU and attention he had bestowed upon his patient, the moment he heard of the event detemiined to purchase the business : he had that morning com- pleted the negotiation, and ofEered the practice to Ellis, stating that he should consider his accepting it in the light of a personal favour, as in that case he would be always at hand should Harry feel any lasting m effects from his wound. Ellis's joy was most amusing to witness. " I tell you what, sir," he exclaimed, seizing me by a button ot the coat, " I'm a made man, sir ! there isn't a better practice in the county. Why, poor Probehurt told me himself old Mrs. Croaker Crawley alone was worth .£100 per annum to him : four di-aughts and two 262 FRANK FAIRLEGH pills every day — prescription very simple — R. Pil. panis compos, ij. nocte sum.; haust. aqua vitae i, aqua pura i, saccar. viij. grs. pro re nata. She's a strong old girl, and on brandy and water draughts and French-roll pills may last for the next twenty yeai's. Noble thing of Sir John, very ; 'pon my word, it has quite upset me — it's a fact, sir, that when Mr. Oaklands told me of it I sat down and cried like a child. I'm not over tender-hearted, either : when I was at Guy's I amputated the left leg of a shocking accident, and dissected the porter's mother-in law (whom he sold us cheap for old acquaintance' sake) before breakfast one moniing, without finding my appetite in the slightest degree affected ; but when I learned what Sir John had done, 1 positively cried, sir." " I say, Ellis," interrupted Harry, " I am telling Miss Fairlegh I shall make you take her in hand ; she has grown so pale and thin, I am afraid she has never recovered all the trouble and inconvenience we caused her." " If Miss Fairlegh would allow me, I should recommend a little more air and exercise," replied EUis : " are you fond of riding on horseback P " '■ Oh yes ! " replied Fanny, smiling, and blushing slightly at thus suddenly becoming the topic of conversation; "that is, I used to delight in riding Frank's pony in days of yore ; but he has not kept a pony lately." " That is easily remedied," returned Han-y : " I am certain some of our horses will can-y a lady. I shall speak to Harris about it directly, and we'll have some rides together, Fanny : it was only this moniing that I obtained my tyrant's permission to cross a horse once more," he added, shaking his fist playfully at Ellis. *' The tyrant will agree to that more willingly than to your first request. What do you think, Fairlegh," continued Ellis, appealing to me, " of his positively wanting to go out hunting ? " " And a vei-y natural thing to wish too, I conceive," replied Harry ; " but what do you think of his declaring that, if I did not faithfully promise not to hunt this season, he would go into the stables and divide, what he called in his doctor's lingo, the ' flexor metatarsi ' of evei-y animal he foimd there, which, being interpreted, means neither more nor less than hamstring all the hunters." " Well, that would be better than allowing you to do anything which might distui'b the beautiful process of granulation going on in your side. I remember, when I was a student at Guy's — " " Come, doctor, we positively cannot stand any more of your * Chronicles of the Charnel-house ' this moniing ; you have horrified Miss Fairlegh already to such a degree that she is going to run away. If I should stroll do^vn here again in the afternoon, Fanny, will you take compassion on me so far as to indulge me with a game of chess? I am going to send Frank on an expedition, and my father and Ellis are off to settle preliminaries with poor Mrs. Probe- hurt, so that I shall positively not have a creature to speak to. FRANK FAIRLEGH 203 Reading excites me too much, and produces a state of What is it you call it, doctor ? " . . , ^ „ ^j..,^.^ ^.f "I told you yesterday I thought you were going into a state ot coma when you fell asleep over that interesting paper of mine m thrL^cet,-RecoUectionsof the Knife; 'if that's what you caU excitement," returned Ellis, laughing. -, ^ , i ;i i,.,n! "Nonsense, Ellis, how absurd yon are!" -^T^^ ^t", u,:; 'ft amused and half annoyed at ElUs's remark; but you have not eranted my request yet, Fanny.' ., •■I do not think we have any engagement-mamma wJl I am sure, be very happy," tegan Fanny, with a l^^/^; °' ''-'^^^^ '^t -T \r^ r*r Hra'wtnt' oflrll^ty^fhTstrto ?^: U htfbyllt ing. " Manmja will be v.y happy-^^^^^^^^^ \^ w^ll • nnd each and aU of us are always only too happy to get you here oli Lbow it does one's heart good to see you begmmng to t^nttfe more like yourself again. ^^^^^^^^^JZl^^t:^- chess, rU take compassion upon you, and give you a thoiough beatm. """There are two good and sufficient reasons why you will not do iZd your sister just now. I am going to send you out on an " • Totend me on a. expedition ! " repeated I ; " may I he allowed to in X its n:;:.re-whei' I am to go to-when I am to stai.-and all other equally essential particulars ? '• TT.PV are soon told," returned Oaklands. 1 wiote a lew i following characteristic answer :- Dear Oaklands, ^ "^ , refuses a good ofier is an ass (unless ^^ ha^^ens to ha^^^^^^^^ hetter one), ^^ow, yours being the best offedo^ m^^^^^ I could have a second pop at the '<>^S-'-'''' ^t^Int^^^ from ho,-ses, finding afresh hand "'i ^^I'^'^^^o^.^ay they bolted ; -n^r^rr- iSXt^^hool, and upsettmg a 264 FRANK FAIRLEGH retired grocer, they knocked the cart into " immoi-tal smash " against a turapike-gate, pitching Spoffkins into a horse-pond, with Shrimp atop of him. It was a regular sell for all parties : I got my cart broken to pieces. Shrimp was all but drowned, and Muffington's aunt cut him ofE with a shilling, because one extirpated squadron of juveniles turned out, unfortunately, to have been a picked detach- ment of infantry from her own village. If you could send to meet me at the Feathers public-house, which is just at the bottom of Storley great wood, it would be a mercy, for walking in cover doesn't suit my short legs, and I'm safe to be used up.— Remember us to Fairlegh and all inquiring friends, and believe me to remain, very heartily yours, George Lawless.' " " I comprehend," said I. as Oaklands finished reading the note ; " you wish me to drive over this aftenioon and fetch him : it will be a great deal better than merely sending a servant." " Why, I had thought of going myself, but, 'pon my word, these sort of things are so much trouble— at least to me, I mean ; and though Lawless is a capital, excellent fellow, and I like him extremely, yet I know he'll talk about nothing but horses all the way home ; and not being quite strong again yet, you've no notion how that kind of thing won-ies and tires me." " Don't say another word about it, my dear Han-y ; I shall enjoy the drive uncommonly. What vehicle had I better take ? " " The phaeton, I think," replied Oaklands, " and then you can bring his luggage, and Shrimp, or any of his people he may have with him." " So be it," returned I ; " I'll walk back with you to the Hall, and then start as soon as you please." CHAPTER XL. LAWLESS'S MATINEE MUSICALE. "I was deep in my tradesmen's books, I'm afraid, But not in my own, by-the-bye ; And when rascally tailors came to be paid, There'll be time enough for that, said I." Song— The Old Bachelor. " Here's a knocking, indeed ; Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come hither. Come in, tailor Knock, knock. Never at quiet ! Wh&t are you ? I had thought to have let in Some of all professions. Anon— anon." Macbeth. I SCARCELY know any excitement more agreeable than driving, on a fine frosty day, a pair of spirited horses, which demand the exercise of all one's coolness and skill to keep their fiery natures under proper control. Some accident had happened to one of Sir John's old FRANK FAIRLEGH 265 phaeton horses, and Han-y, who fancied that, as he was not allowed to use any violent exercise, driving would be an amusement to him, had taken the opportunity of replacing them by a magnificent pair of young, nearly thoroughbred chestnuts ; and these were the steeds now intrusted to my guidance. Not being anxious, however, to emulate the fate of the unfortunate Muffington Spoffkins, I held them well in hand for the first three or four miles, and as they became used to their work, gradually allowed them to quicken their pace, till we were bowling along men'ily at the rate of ten miles an howr. A drive of about an hour and a quai-ter brought me within sight of the little roadside public-house appointed for my rendezvous with Lawless. As I drew sufficiently near to distinguish figures, I perceived the gentleman in question scientifically and picturesquely attired in what might with great propriety be termed no end of a shooting jacket, inasmuch as its waist, being iDrolonged to a strange and unaccountable extent, had, as a necessary consequence, invaded the region of the skirt, to a degree which reduced that api^endage to the most absurd and infinitesimal proportions. This wonderful garment was composed of a fabric which Fi-eddy Coleman, when he made its acquaintance some few days later, denominated the Mac Omnibus plaid, a gaudy repertoire of colours, embracing all the tints of the rainbow, and a few more besides, and was fui-ther embellished by a plentiful supply of gent's sporting buttons, which latter articles were not quite so large as cheese-plates, and represented in bas-relief a series of moving incidents by flood and field. His nether man exhibited a complicated arrangement of corduroys, leather gaiters, and watei-proof boots, which were, of course, wet through ; while, to crown the whole, his head was adorned with one of those round felt hats, which exactly resemble a boiled apple-pudding, and are known by the sobriquet of '" wideawakes," " cos they 'av'n't got no nap about 'em." A stout shooting pony was standing at the door of the ale- house, with a pair of panniers, containing a portmanteau and a gun- case, slung across its back, upon which was seated in triumph the mighty Shrimp, who seemed to possess the singular property of growing older, and nothing else; for, as well as one could judge by appearances, he had not increased an inch in statiu-e since the first day of our acquaintance. His attitude, as I drove up, was one which Hunt would have delighted to perpetuate. Perched on a kind of pack-saddle, his legs stretched so widely apart, by reason of the stout proportions of the pony, as to be nearly at right angles with his upper man, he "held aloft" (not a " snowy scarf," but) a pewter- pot, nearly as large as himself, the contents of which he was trans- feiTing to his own throat, with an air of relish and " savoir faii-e " which would have done credit to a seven-feet-high coalheaver. The group was completed by a gamekeeper, who, seated on a low wooden bench, was dividing some bread and cheese with a magnificent black retriever. 266 FRANK FAIRLEGH " By Jove 1 what splendid steppers ! " was Lawless's exclamation as I drove up. " Now, that's what I call perfect action ; hiph enough to look well, without battering the feet to pieces — the leg a little arched, and thrown out boldly — no fear of their putting down their pins in the same place they pick them up from. Ah ! " he continued, for the first time observing me, " Fairlegh, how are you, old fellow ? Slap-up cattle you've got there, and no mistake — belong to Sir John Oaklands, I sujjpose. Do you hapi^en to know where he got hold of them ? " '■ Harry wanted a pair of phaeton horses, and the coachman recommended these," replied I ; " but I've no idea where he heard of them." " Rising five and six," continued Lawless, examining their mouths with deep interest ; '' no do there — the tush well up in one and nicely through in the other, and the mark in the nippers just as it should be to correspond : own brothers, I'll bet a hundred poimds — good full eyes ; small heads, well set on ; slanting shoulders ; legs as clean as a colt's ; hoofs a leetle small, but that's the breed. Whereabouts was the figure, did you hear ? — five fifties never bought them, unless they were as cheap as dirt, eh ? " '■ That was about their price, if I remember correctly," replied I. " Harry thought it was too much to give ; but Sir John, the moment he saw his son would like to have them, wrote the cheque, and paid for them on the spot." " Well, I'U give him all the money any day, if he's tired of his bargain," rejoined Lawless ; " but we won't keep them standing now they're warm. Here, Shrimp, my great-coat — get off that pony this instant, you luxurious young vagabond. Never saw such a boy in my life to ride as that is— if there is anything that can by possibility caiTv him, not a step will he stir on foot — doesn't believe legs were meant to walk with, it's my opinion. Why, this very morning, before they brought out the shooting pony, he got on the retriever ; and he has such a seat too, that the dog could not throw him, till Bassett thought of sending him into the water : he slipped off in double quick time then, for he has had a regular hydrophobia upon him ever since his adventure in the horse-pond. What, not down yet ? I shall take a horsewhip to you, sir, directly." Thus admonished, ShrimiJ, who had taken advantage of his master's preoccupation to finish the contents of the jiewter pot, tossed the utensil to the gam.ekeeper, having previously attracted that individual's attention by exclaiming, in a tone of easy familiarity — " Look out, I/eggings ! " — then, as the man, taken by surx^rise, and having some difficulty in saving himself from a blow on the nose, allowed the pot to slip through his hands, Shrimp continued, '" Catch it, clumsy I veil, I never — now mind, if you've gone and bumped it, it's your own doing, and you pays for dilapidations, as ve calls 'em at Cambridge. Coming, sir — d'rec'ly, sir — yes, sir." So saying, he slipped down the pony's shoulder, shook himseK to set his dress in ^ FRANK FAIRLEGH 267 order as soon as he reached terra firma, and unbuckling Lawless's di-iving coat, which was fastened round his waist by a broad strap, jumped upon a horse-block, and held out the garment at arm's-length for his master to put on. The gun-case and carpet-bag were then transfen-ed from the pony to the phaeton, and resigning the rems to Lawless, who I knew would be misei-able unless he were allowed to drive, we started. Shrimp being installed in the hind seat, where, folding his ai-ms. he leaned back, favouring us with a glance which seemed to sav. " You may proceed; I am quite comfortable." " It was about time for me to take an affectionate f ai-ewell of Alma Mater." observed Lawless, after he had criticized and admu-ed the horses afresh, and at such length that I could not help smiling at the fulfilment of Oaklands' prediction-" it was about time for me to be off for the duns were becoming rather too pai-ticular m their attentions. I got a precious fi-ight the other day. I can tell you T was fool enough to pay two or three biUs, and that gave the rest ot the fellows a notion that I was about to bolt. I suppose, for one morning I was reeularlv besieged by them. I taught them a tnck or two. though, before I had done with them : they wont forget me m a hm-rv. I expect." . ^ wi • •• Indeed '. and how did you contiive to fix yourself so indehbly in their recollections ? " asked I. , ^.-i. x ^ i ^ " Eh ' • though lost to sight, to memory dear —rather that style ot thing Tou know. So you want to heai- all about it. eh ? WeU. it was a' good lark. I must say; I was telling it to Bassett last night, and it nearlv killed him. I don't know whether you have seen him latelv but he's grown horridly fat. He has taken to reanng prize bullocks, and I think he has caught it of em; rides sixteen stone, if he rides a pound. I tell him he'll break his neck some of these days if he chooses to go on hunting-the horses can't stand it However he went into such fits of laughter when I told him about it that he got quite black in the face, and I i-ang the bell, and swore he was in L apoplexy ; but the servant seemed used to the sort of thing, and broutht him a jug of beer, which resuscitated him. WeU. to return to mv mutton, as the mounseers have it-the very day I intended to leave Cambridge. Shrimp came in while I was breakfastmg, with a trreat coarse-looking letter in his hand. " •• • Please, sir, Mr. Pigskin has called with his Uttle account, and would be ve'rv glad if you could let him have the money.' '••Pleasajit/ thinks I. 'Here, boy, let's have a look at this prwious Httle account-hum! ha', hunting-saddle gag-bit for Lampliehter. headpiece and reins to ditto, racing-saddle for chest- nut-mare." etc., etc.. etc.; a horrid affair as long as my arm-total JE96 ISs. 2d.; and the blackguard had charged everythmg half as much a^ain as he had told me when I ordered it. StiU, I thought rd P1V the fellow, and have done with him. if I had got tm enough left; ^o I told Shrimp to show him into the rooms of a mail who bved over me, but was away at the time, and there let him wait. Lo 268 FRANK FAIRLEGH and behold ! when I came to look about the tin, I found that, instead of having ninety pounds at the banker's, I had overdrawn my account some hundred pounds or more ; so that paying was quite out of the question, and I was just going to ring the bell, and beg Mr. Pigskin to call again in a day or two, by which time I should have been ' over the hills and far away,' when Shrimp made his appearance. " ' Please, sir, there's ever so many more 'gents called for their money. There's Mr. Flanker, the whip-maker, and Mr. Smokem, from the cigar-shop, and Trotter, the bootmaker, and — yes, sir, there's a young man from Mr. Tinsel, the jeweller : and, oh ! a load more of 'em, if you please, sir.' " This was agreeable, certainly ; what to be at I didn't know, when suddenly a bright idea came aci'oss me. " ' What have you done with 'em P ' asked I. " ' Put 'em all into Mr. Skulker's rooms, sir.' " ' That's the ticket,' said I. ' Now listen to me. Look out. and see if there are any more coming ; — if there are, show 'em up to the others, take 'em a couple of bottles of wine and some glasses, and tell them I must beg them to wait a quarter of an hour or so, while I look over their bills ; and as soon as the room is full, come and tell me.' " In about ten minutes Shrimp repoi-ted that he could not see any more coming, and that he thought ' all the gents I dealt with was upstairs.' That's the time of day ! ' exclaimed I, and taking out the key of the room, which Skulker had left with me, in case I might like to put a friend to sleep there, I slipped ofE my shoes, and creeping ujjstairs as softly as possible, I locked the door. ' Now then, Shi-imp,' said I, ' run and fetch me some good stout screws, a gimlet, and a screw- driver.' He was not long getting them, and in less than five minutes I had them all screwed in as fast as if they had been in their coffins, for they were kicking up such a row over their wine that they never heard me at work. Well, as soon as I had bagged my game, Shrimp and I packed up the traps and sent them to the coach-office — found a coach about to start in half an hova-, booked myself for the box, and then strolled back to see how the caged birds were getting on. By this time they had come to a sense of their ' sitivation,' and were hammering away, and swearing, and going on like troopers ; but all to no purpose, for the door was a famous strong one, and they had no means of breaking it open. Well, after I had had a good laugh at the row they were making, I tapped at the door, and ' discoorsed ' 'em, as Paddy calls it. I told them that I was so much shocked by the want of consideration, and proper feeling, and all that sort of thing, which they had shown, in coming and besieging me as they had done, that I felt it was a duty I owed to society at large, and to themselves in particular, to read them a severe lesson ; therefore, on mature deliberation, I had sentenced them to imprisonment for the FRANK FAIRLEGH 269 term of one hour, and to wait for their money till such time as I should further decree, which I begged to assure them would not be until I might find it perfectly convenient to myself to pay them ; and I wound up by telling them to make themselves quite at home, entreating them not to fatigue themselves by trying to get out, for that they had not a chance of succeeding ; inquiring whether they had any commands for London, and wishing them a very affectionate farewell for some time to come. And then down I ran, leaving them roai-ing and bellowing like so many mad bulls — got to the office just in time, and tipping the coachman, drove three parts of the way to town, feeling as jolly as if I had won a thousand pounds on the Derby." " And what became of the locked-up tradesmen ? " inquired I. " Oh ! why, they stayed there above two hours before anybody let them out. amusing themselves by smashing the windows, breaking the furniture to pieces (one of them was an upholsterer, and had an eye to business, I dare say), and kicking all the paint off the door. However, I have written to Skulker to get it all set to rights, and send me the bUl, so no harm's done — it will teach those fellows a lesson they won't forget in a hiin-y, and the next time they wish to bully a Cantab, they'll recollect my little ' matinee musicale,' as I call it. Oh I they made a sweet row, I can assure you, sir." The chestnuts ti'otted merrily on their homeward journey, and the noble oaks of Heathfield Park, their leafless branches pointing like giant arms to the cold blue sky above them, soon came in sight. " You are a great deal too early for dinner, Lawless," said I, as we drove up ; " suppose you walk down to our cottage, and let me intro- duce you to my mother and sister : you'll find Oaklands there most likely, for he talked of going to play chess." " Eh ! yom- mother and sister ! by Jove, I never thought of them I I declare I had forgotten there were any ladies in the case — I can't go near them in this pickle. I'm all over mud and pheasant feathers ; they'U take me for a native of the Sandwich Islands, one of the boys that cooked Captain Cook — precious tough work they must have had to get their teeth through him, for he was no chicken ; I wonder how they tmssed him, poor old beggar ! No ! I'll make myself a little more like a Christian, and then I'll come down and be introduced to them if it's necessary, but I shall not be able to say half a dozen words to them : it's a fact, T never can talk to a woman, except that girl at old Coleman's hop, Di Clapperton ; she went the pace with me, and no mistake. By the way, how's the other young woman. Miss Clara Sav — " "K you really want to di-ess before you come to the cottage," inteiTupted I hastily, " you have no time to lose." " Haven't I ? off we go, then," cried my companion. " Here, you lazy young imp," he continued, seizing Shrimp by the coUar of the coat, and di-opping him to the groimd, as one would a kitten, " find my room, and get out my things dii-ectly— bi-ush along." 270 FRANK FAIRLEGH So saying, he sprang from the phaeton, and rushed into the hall, pushing Shrimp before him, to the utter consternation of the dignified old butler, who, accustomed to the graceful indolence which characterized his young master's every movement, was quite un- prepared for such an energetic mode of proceeding. Forgetting that politeness required me to wait for my companion, I threw the reins to a groom, and started off at a brisk walk in the direction of the cottage. Lawless's concluding words had aroused a train of thought sufficiently interesting to banish every other recollection. Sweet Clara ! it was quite a month since I had parted from her, but the soft tones of her silvery voice still lingered on my ear— the tnistful expression of her bright eyes — the appealing sadness of that mourn- ful smile, more touching in its quiet melancholy than many a deeper sign of woe, still presented themselves to my imagination with a vividness which was almost painful. I had received a note from her about a week before, in which she told me that Cumberland had been absent from the Priory for some days, and as long as this was the case, she was comparatively free from annoyance, but that Mr. Yernor's mind was evidently as much set upon the match as ever ; nothing, however, she assured me, should induce her to consent, for TOiTch as she had always disliked the scheme, she now felt that death were far preferable to a union with a man she despised ; and she ended by saying that whenever she felt inclined to give way to despair, the remembrance of my affection came across her like a sunbeam, and rendered her happy even in the midst of her distress. — Oh! what would I not have given to have possessed the dear privilege of consoling her, to have told her that she had nothing to fear, that my love should surround and protect her, and that, imder the hallowing influence of sympathy, happiness for the future would he increased twofold, while son-ow shared between us would be deprived of half its bitterness ! — in fact, long before I arrived at the cottage, I had worked myself up into a great state of excitement, -and had originated more romantic nonsense than is promvilgated in a ' seminary for young ladies,' in the interval between the time when the French teacher has put out the candle, and the fair pupils have talked themselves to sleep, which, if repoi-t does not belie them, is not until they have forfeited all chance of adding to their attractions by getting a little beauty-sleep before twelve o'clock. " Ah, Frank ! back already ! what have you done with Lawless ? " exclaimed Oaklands, raising his eyes from the chessboard as I entered our little drawing-room. " He will be here shortly," replied I ; " but he positively refused to face the ladies till he had changed his shooting costume, so I left him up at the Hall to adonize. But how goes the game ? who is winning ? " " As was certain to be the case, I am losing," answered Fanny. " Well, I won't disturb you," returned I, " and perhaps you will FRANK FAIRLEGH 271 liave finisted before Lawless makes his appearance ; where is my mother, by-the-bye ? " " She only left the room just as you returned," replied Fanny quickly ; " she has been sitting here ever since Mr. Oaklands came." " I do not wish to know where she has been, but where she is," rejoined I ; "I want to tell her that Lawless is coming to be intro- duced to her : is she upstairs ? " " I believe she is," was the reply, " but you will only worry her if you disturb her ; mamma particularly dislikes being hunted about, you know : you had better sit still, and she will be down again in a few minutes." " There is no such thing as free-will in this world, I believe," exclaimed I, throwing myself back in an easy-chair ; " however, as you do not very often play the tyrant, you shall have your own way this time. Harry, the chestnuts did their work to admiration ; Lawless was delighted with them, and talked of nothing else half the Avay home." " I don't doubt it — your queen's in danger, Fanny," was the answer. Seeing that my companions appeared entirely engrossed by their game, I occupied myself with a book till I heard the ominous sounds, " Check ! excuse me, the knight commands that square ; you have but one move — checkmate ! " " Who has won ? though I need not ask. How dare you beat my sister, Master Harry ? " " I had some trouble in doing it, I can tell you," replied Oaklands ; then turning to Fanny, he continued, " Had you but moved differently when I castled my king to get out of your way, the game would have been entirely in your own hands, for I was so stupid, that up to that moment I never perceived the attack you were making upon me." " Really I don't think I had a chance of beating you: Frank must take you in hand next ; he is a much better player than I am." " Indeed I am not going to be handed over to Frank, or anyone else, in that summary way, I can assure you ; I intend to have another game of chess with you to-morrow, after we come in from our ride. I forgot to tell you that Hams says the little gray Arab carries a lady beautifully— however, I left orders for one of the boys to exercise her well this afternoon, with a side-saddle and a horse- cloth, to enact the part of a lady. At what hour shall we ride to-moiTOw ? it is generally fine before luncheon at this time of year, I think." " Oh you are very kind," replied Fanny hurriedly, "but I am afraid I cannot ride to-morrow." " Why not ? what are you going to do ? " inquired Oaklands. "I am not going to do anything particularly," returned Fanny, hesitating; "but I don't know whether my habit is in wearable order, and— well, I will talk to mamma about it. By-the-bye, I really 272 FRANK FAIR LEG H must jro and see what has l>ecome of her all thia time," she continued, liHiriK to leave the apartment. " I thoujfht there was nothing? my mother disliked so much ixm Wmfi hunted about." rejoined I; "I wonder you can think of dinturhintr her." A phiyful shake of the head was her only reply, and she quitted the room. CHAPTER XLI. HOW LAWLESS BECAME A LADY'm MAM. '• PoiiMcl Mill hrmc nhnuld •how itMtf coui«««t)u« to petuonkt*. Therefore, Ooor«4r» ' —A$ Yim like It. " Fn.in the cn-wii of Kin hcfttl to U»c iK)le of hU foot be U all mirth. He hiith a heart aii Komul a« a l«U, aiui hU Uitufuo !» the clapi*'" ; ''"" ^^^ '»'* hamrt ttiliika, hilt totifOio Hiwakn. I hoiw ho in ill \o\t."—Muck Ado About Soikiu^. " Frank. I am not at all satisfied aUiut your sister." Ijcvun ( )akhinds. as the door closed after her. " She does not look well, and she seems entirely to have lost her spirits." "I thoujrht as you do ))ofore I went up for my dejrree." replied I; " but since my return I hoj)ed she was all right again. What make* you imagine her out of .spirits." *' Oh ! several things ; she never talks and laughs as she used to do. "Why, all this afternoon I could scarcely get half a dozen words out of her ; and she seems to have no energy to do anything. How unwilling she appeared to enter into my scheme about the riding I She evidently dislikes the idea of exertion of any kind : I know the feeling well ; but it is not natural for her; she used to be surprisinirlv active, and w^as the life and soul of the party. But what, jierhaps, has caused me to notice all this so particularly, and makes nie exceedingly uncomfortable, is, that I am afraid it is all owing to me." " Owing to you, my dear Harry ! what can you mean ? " inquired I. " "Why, I fear that business of the duel, and the great care she and yo\ir mother took of me (for which— lielieving as I do that, under Pro\-idence, it saved my life— I can never be sufficiently grateful), have been too much for her. Remember, she was quite a girl ; and no doubt seeing an old friend brought to the house apparently dying, must have been a very severe shock to her, and, depend upon it, her FRANK FAIRLEGH 273 nerves have never recovered their proper tone. However, I shall make it my business to endeavour to interest and amuse her, and you must do everything you can to assist me, Frank ; we'll get all the new books down from London, and have some people to stay at the Hull. She has shut herself up too much ; Ellis says she has ; I shall make her ride on horseback every day." '■ Hoi-seback, eh ! " exclaimed Lawless, who had entered the cottage without our perceiving him. " Ay, that's a prescription better than all your doctor's stuff ; clap her on a side-saddle, and a brisk canter for a couple of hours every day across country will set the old lady up again in no time, if it's your mother that's out of condition, Frank. Wliy, Oaklands, man, you are looking as fresh as paint! getting soimd again, wind and limb, eh ? " *' I hope so, at last," replied Harry, shaking Lawless warmly by the hand ; " but I've had a narrow escape of losing my life, I can a«8ure you." " No ; really I didn't know it had been as bad as that ! By Jove ! if he had killed you, I'd have shot that black-hearted villain, "VVilford, myself, and chanced about his putting a bullet into me while I was doing it." " My dear Lawless, I thank you for your kind feeling towards me ; but I cannot Ijear to hear you speak in that light way of duelling." returned Oaklands gravely; " if men did but know the misei-y they wei-e entailing on all those who cared for them by their rash acts, indei)endently of all higher considerations, duelling, and its twin brother. Kuieide, would Ije less frequent than they are. When I have seen the tears stealing down my father's grief-worn cheeks, and witnessed the anxious, painful expression in the faces of the kind friends who were nursing me, and have reflected that it was by yielding to my own ungovemed passions that I had brought all this sorrow upon them, my remorse has often been far harder to bear tluin any pain my wound has caused me." At this moment, my mother and Fanny making their appearance, I hastened to introduce Lawless, who, l^eing greatly alanned at the ceremony, grew vei^r red in the face, shuffled my mother Into a comer of the room, and ujiset a chair against her. stumbling over Harry's legs, and knocking down the chesslx)ard in the excess of his penitence. Having, with my assistance, remedied the.se disasters, after stigmatizing himself as an awkward dog, and comparing him- self to a bull in a china-shop, he turned to Fanny, exclaiming, — ■* Delighted to have the pleasure of seeing you at last. Miss Fair- legh ; it is several years since I first heard of you. Do you remember the writing-desk at old Mildman's. eh, Frank ? no end of a shame of me to spoil it ; I have often thought so since ; but boys will be boys, eh. Mrs. Fairlegh ? " My mother acquiesced in this obstinate adherence to their primary formation on the part of the junior members of the nobler sex, with so much cordiality that Lawless was encouraged to proceed. T 274 FRANK FAIRLEGH " Glad to find there's a chance of seeing you out with us some of these days, ma'am ; shall we be able to persuade you to accompany us to-morrow ? " " Yes, I think it very likely that I may go," returned my mother, who imagined he was referi-ing to some proposed drive ; " in what direction will it be, pray ? " " Direction, eh ? Why, that of course depends very much on what line he may happen to take when he breaks cover," returned Lawless. My mother, who had been previously advised of Lawless's sporting metaphors, concluding that he referred to Sir John Oaklands. calmly replied, — " Yes, certainly, I was mentioning the ruins of Saworth Abbey to Sir John yesterday ; do you know them ? " " I should think I did— rather," exclaimed Lawless, forgetting his company manners in the interest of the subject. " Why, I have seen more foxes run into the fields round Saworth than in any other parish in the country. Whenever the meet is either at Grinder's End or Chorley Bottom, the fox is safe to head for Saworth. Oh ! I see you're up to the whole thing, Mrs. Fairlegh ; we shall have you showing all of us the way across country in fine style to-moiTow. I expect there'll be some pretty stiff fencing, though, if he should take the line you imagine ; but I suppose you don't mind anything of that sort ; with a steady well-trained hunter (and a lady should never ride one that is not), there's very little danger — take care to keep out of the crowd when you're getting away ; don't check your horse at his fences ; have a little mercy on his bellows over the heavy groimd ; and with a light weight like yours you may lead the field. Why, Frank, you ought to be proud of Mrs. Fairlegh. I tell you what — the first time the hounds meet near Leatherly, I'll have my mother out, whether she likes it or not. I'll stand no nonsense about it, you may depend ; she shall see a run for once in her life, at all events. Mrs. Fairlegh, ma'am," he continued, rising and shaking her warmly by the hand, " excuse my saying so, but you're a regular brick — you are indeed ! '' The scene at this moment would not have made a bad study for a painter. Oaklands, having struggled in vain to preserve his gravity, was in fits of laughter. Fanny, who had from the first perceived the equivoque, was very little better, while my mother, completely mystified, sat staring at Lawless, whom she evidently considered a little insane, with an expression of bewildered astonishment, not unmixed with fear. As soon as I could contrive to speak (for Law- less's face, when he had discovered the effect he had produced, completely finished me, and I laughed till the tears ran dovsm my cheeks), I explained to him that it was my sister, and not my mother, who was thinking of riding, while the notion of hunting originated wholly and solely in his own fertile imagination. "Eh? What! she doesn't hunt?— ah! I see, put my foot in it pretty deep this time ; beg pardon, Mrs. Fairlegh— no offence meant, FRANK PAIRLEGH 275 I assm-e you. Well, I thouglit it was a very fast tHngfor an old I — tliat is, for a lady to do. I fancied you were so well up in the whole affair, too : most absurd, really ; I certainly am not fit for female society. I think, when the hunting season's over, I shall put myself to one of those tiptop boarding-schools, to leam manners for a quarter; the sort of shop, you know, where they teach woman her mission — how to get a rich husband, eh, Frank ? — for .£300 a year, washing and church princiijles extra, and keep a ' Professor ' to instruct the young ladies in the art of getting out of a carriage on scientific principles ; that is, without showing their ankles. Didn't succeed very well with my sister Jiolia, thoiigh ; the girl happens to be particularly clean about the pasterns, so she declared it was infringing on the privileges of a free-bom British subject, vowed her ankles were her own property, and she had a right to do what she liked with 'em, and carried out her principles by kicking the Professor's shins for him. Plucky girl is Julia ; she puts me very much in mind of what I was when I was her age at Eton, and pinned a detonating cracker to old Botherboy's coat-tail, so that, wha,t between the pin and the explosion, it's my belief he would have found himself more comfortalale in the battle of Waterloo, than he felt the fii-st time he sat down. Ah ! those were happy days ! " Thus limning on, Lawless kept us in a roar of laughter, tiU Oak- lands, pulling out his watch, discovered it was time to return to the Hall and prepare for dinner. It turned out, on examination, that the habit did require altering, so the ride was put off till the necessai-y repairs should be executed. As the next day proved too frosty to hunt. Lawless and I. under the auspices of the head-keeper, set to work to slaughter the supernumerary pheasants, Sir John and Han-y joining us for a couple of hours, though Ellis would not aUow the latter to caii-y a gun. We had a capital day's sport, and got home just in time to dress, and Sir John having contrived in the course of the afternoon to can-y off my mother and Fanny, we were a veiy comfortable little party. Sir John took my mother down to dinner, and Lawless paired ofE ^vith Fanny, an an-angement which, as his eccentricities evidently afforded her great amusement, I was not soiTy for. " Why, Fanny," whispered I, when we joined the ladies in the drawing-room, " you are growing quite frisky : what a row you and Lawless were making at dinner-time ! I have not heard you talk and laugh so much for many a day." " Oh ! your friend is famous fim," replied Fanny — " perfectly ii-resistible ; I assure you I am delighted with him — he is something quite new to me." " I am so glad you have asked Lawless here," obsei-ved I to Oak- lands ; " do you see how much pleased and amused Fanny is with him ?— he appears to have aroused her completely — the very thing we were wishing for. He'U be of more use to her than all of us put together." 276 FRANK FAIRLEGH " He seems to me to talk a vast deal of nonsense," replied Harry rather crossly, as I fancied. " And yet I can't help being amused by it," replied I ; " I'm like Fanny in that respect." " I was not aware your sister had a taste for that style of conversa- tion. I confess it's a sort of thing which very soon tires me." " Splendid old fellow, Sir John," observed Lawless in an under- tone, seating himself by Fanny ; " I never look at him without thinking of one of those jolly old Israelites who used to keep knock- ing about the country with a plurality of wives and families, and an immense stud of camels and donkeys : they read 'em out to us at church, you know — what do you call 'em, eh ? " " One of the Patriarchs, I suppose you mean," replied Fanny, smiling. "Eh — yes, that's the thing. Noah was rather in that line before he took to the water system, wasn't he ? Well, now, if you can fancy one of these ancients, decently dressed in a blue coat with brass buttons, knee shorts, and silk stockings, like a Christian, it's my belief he'd be the very moral (as the old women call it) of Sir John ; uncommonly handsome he must have been — even better looking than Harry, when he was his age." " Mr. Oaklands is so pale and thin now," replied Fanny. " Eh ! isn't he just ? " was the rejoinder. " Many a man has been booked for an inside place in a hearse for a less hurt than his ! and I don't know that he is out of the wood even yet." " Why, you don't think him worse ? " exclaimed Fanny anxiously. " Nothing has gone wrong — you have not been told — are they keeping anything from me ? " " Eh ! no ! 'pon my word; Ellis, who is getting liim into condition, says he's all right, and will be as fresh as a colt in a month or two. Why, you look quite frightened." " You startled me for a moment," replied Fanny, colouring slightly ; " any little relapse renders Sir John so uncomfortable that we are naturally anxious on his account." " I am sure Lawless is boring your sister," observed Oaklands, who had been sitting quite at the farther end of the drawing-room, cutting open the leaves of a new book. " I know that worried look of hers so well— I shall go and interpose on her behalf. Lawless." he continued, crossing over to him, "the billiard-room is lighted up, if you like to challenge Fairlegh to a game." " Billiards, eh ? " returned Lawless ; " why, really, if you had walked as many miles to-day as I have, I don't think you'd much fancy trotting round a billiard-table. Besides I am vei'y well off where I am," he added, with what was intended for a gallant glance towards Fanny ; " here's metal more attractive, as the fellow says in the play." Oaklands' only reply was a slight curl of the lip, and, turning to- Fanny, he said, — FRANK FAIRLEGH 277 " Are you at all inclined to take your revenpfe ? We shall have time for a good game if we begin at once ; will you come into the music-room, or shall I fetch the chess-men here ? " " Is it not rather late ? " replied Fanny hesitatingly. " Not if we begin now," returned Oaklands. " Mr. Lawless was offering to show me some tricks with cards : as they will not take so long a time as a game of chess, perhaps that would be advisable this evening." " Whichever you prefer ; I will ring for cards," replied Oaklands coldly. He then waited until the sei-vant had executed the order, and as soon as Lawless had attracted public attention to his per- formance, left the room unobserved. Wonderful things did the cards effect under Lawless's able man- agement — very wonderful indeed, until he showed you how they were done ; and then the only wonder was that you had not found them out for yourself, and how you could have been stupid enough to be taken in by so simple a trick : and very great was Lawless on the occasion, and greater still was Ellis, who was utterly sceptical as to the possibility of performing any of the tricks beforehand, and quite cerfain, as soon as he had seen it, that he knew all about it, and could do it easily himself, and who, on trying, invariably failed ; and yet. not profiting one bit by his experience, was just as sceptical and just as confident in regard to the next, which was of course attended by a like result. Very wonderful and veiy amusing was it all, and much laughter did it occasion ; and the minutes flitted by on rapid wings, until my mother discovered that it was time for us to start on our walk to the cottage, a mode of progi'ession of which Sir John by no means approved; he thei-efore rang the bell, and ordered the can-iage. While they were getting it ready Harry's absence was for the first time observed, and commented on. " Did anybody see when he left the room ? " inquired Sir John. "Yes," replied I ; "he went away just as Lawless began his performances." " Dear me ! I hope he was not feeling ill." said my mother. " ID, ma'am ! " exclaimed Ellis, " impossible ; you don't know Mr. Oaklands' constitution as well as I do, or such an idea could never have occurred to yoi: ; besides, you can't for a moment suppose he would think of being taken suddenly ill without having consulted me on the subject. I must go and see after him, ma'am, directly, but it's quite impossible that he should be ill ; " and as he spoke he left the room with hurried steps. "My dear Fanny, how you made me jump! I hope you haven't done any mischief," exclaimed my mother, as Fanny, mo-\ang suddenly, knocked down the card-box, and scattered the contents on the carpet. " I am sadly awkward," returned Fanny, stooping to pick up the box ; " I do not think it is injured." " My dear child, it does not in the least signify," said Sir John, 278 FRANK FAIRLEGH takinj? her kindly by the hand. *' Why, you have quite frijfhtened yourself, you silly little thin^ ; you are at-tually treuililiuK : eit down, my dear, sit down— never mind the cards. Frank, if you'll rinj,' the bell, Edmunds will see to that." " Xo, no ! we'll pick 'em up," exclaimed Lawless, poinsr down on all fovu'S ; " don't send for the butler ; he's such a r>ompou8 old Ixjy ; if I were to see him stooping down here, I should be pushing; him over, or playing him some trick or other. I shouldn't be able to help it, he's so jolly fat. What a glorious confusion ! kings and queens and little fishes all mixed up together 1 — here's the knave of clubs— hail- fellow-well-met with a thing that looks like a salmon with a swelled face! Well, you have been and gone and done it this time. Miss Fairlegh — I could not have believed it of yon, Miss Fairh-gh, oh 1 " " Mind you jiick them up proi>erly." retoi-ted Fanny ; *' if you really were such a conjurer as you jjretended to 1x5 just now. you would only have to say, ' hocus pocus,' and the cards would all jump into the box again in proper order." " Then I should lose the pleasure of going on my knees in your service. There's a pretty speech for you, eh ! Fll tell you what— you'll make a lady's man of me now, Ijefore you've done with me. I'm itolishing rapidly— I know I am." "It's all right!" exclaimed Ellis, entering. "I found Mr. Oak- lands lying on the sofa in the library; he says he feels a little knocked up by his walk this morning, and desired me to apologize for his absence, and wish everybody good-night for him. I say, Fairlegh," continued he. di-awing me a little on one side, *' has any- thing happened to annoy him ." " " Nothing pai-ticular, that I know of," replied I ; " why do you ask ? " "I thought he looked especially cross; and he called our friend Lawless an intolerable puppy, and wondered how any woman of common-sense could contrive to put up with him— that's all," rejoined Ellis. " Fanny refused to play chess with him, because she thought it too late in the evening ; — that cannot have annoyed him ? " " Oh no ! " was the reply. '" I see exactly what it is now : since the granulating process has been going on so beautifully in the side, his appetite has returned, and as he must not take any vei-y active exercise just yet, the liver is getting toi-pid. I must throw in a little blue pill, aaid he'll be as good-tempered as an angel again ; for, naturally, there is not a man breathing with a finer disposition, or a more excellent constitution, than Mr. Oaklands. Why, sir, the other day, when I had been relating a professional anecdote to him. he called me a 'bloodthirsty butcher,' and I honoured him for it— no hypocrisy there, sir." At this moment the can-iage was announced, and we proceeded to take our dejDarture, Lawless handing Fanny in. and then standing chattering at the window, till I was obliged to give him a hint that FRANK FAIRLEGH 279 Sir John would not like to have the horses kept standing in the cold. " You've made a conquest, Miss Fan,"' said I, as we drove off ; "I never saw Lawless pay siich attention to any woman before ; even Di Clapperton did not produce nearly so strong an effect, I can assure you." "I am quite innocent of any intention to captivate," replied Fanny. " Mr. Lawless amuses me, and I laugh sometimes at, and sometimes with him." " Still, my dear, you should be careful," intei-posed my mother ; " though it's play to you, it may be death to him, poor young man ! I got into a terrible scrape once in that way myself, when I was a girl : laughing and joking with a young gentleman in our neighbour- hood, till he nuide me an offer one morning, and I really believe I should have been persuaded into marrying him, though I did not care a bit about him, if I had not been attached to your poor dear father at the time : now you have nothing of that sort to save you ; 80, as I said before, my dear, mind what you are about." " I don't think Mr. Lawless's heai-t will be broken while there is a pack of hounds within reach, mamma dear," replied Fanny, glancing archly at me as she sjjoke. As we were about to proceed to our several rooms for the night, I contrived to delay my mother for a moment under the pretext of lighting a candle for her, and closing the door, I said : — *■ My dear mother, if, by any odd chance, Fanny should be inclined to like Lawless, don't you say anything agtiinst it. Lawless is a good fellow ; all his faults lie on the surface, and are none of them serious ; he is completely his own master, and might man-j' any girl he pleased to-moiTOw, and I need not tell you would be a mcjst excellent match for Fanny. He seems very much taken with her ; and no wonder, for she is really excessively pretty ; and when she is in spirits, as she was to-night, her manner is most piquante and fascinating." " Well, my dear boy," was the reply, " you know your friend best, and if he and Fanny choose to take a fancy to each other, and you approve of it, I shall not say anything against it." Whereiipon I kissed her, called her a dear, good old mother^ and can-ied up for her, in token of affection, her work-box, her reticule, her candle, and a basket containing a large bunch of keys, simdi-y halfpence, and three pairs of my own stockings which wanted mending, a process which invariably rendered them imwear- able ever after. 280 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XLII. THE MEET AT EVERSLET OORSE. " We'll make yon some sport with the fox Ere we case him." All't Well that Ends Well. " Oh for a fall, if fall she must, On the gentle lap of Flora ! But still, thank Heaven, she clings to her sent." Hood. " She held his drooping head. Till given to breathe the freer air, Returning life repaid their euro ; He gazed on them with heavy sigh — I could have wished e'en thus to die." Soktbf. It had been airanged between my mother and Oaklanda. in the earlier part of the evening on which the events described in the last chapter took place, that Fanny should have her first ride on the day but one followinpf, by which time it was supposed that the habit would be fit for service, and the younp lady's mind suflaciontly familiarized with the idea, to overcome a rather (as I considered) unnecessary degree of alarm which I believe would have led her. had she been allowed to decide for herself, to relinquish it altogether- The only stipulation my mother insisted on was, that I should accompany my sister in the character of chaperon, an an-angement to which, as it was quite evident that Lawless intended to form one of the party, I made no objection. Accordingly, on the day appointed, Oaklands made his appearance about ten o'clock, mounted on his favourite horse, and attended by a groom, leading the grey Aiab which was destined to can-y Fanny, as well as a saddle-horse for me. "Bravo, Han-y ! it does one good to see you and the 'Cid' together again,"' exclaimed I, patting the arched neck of the noble animal ; " how well he is looking ! " " Is he not ? " replied Oaklands warmly ; " the good old horse knew me as well as possible, and gave a neigh of pleasure when first I spoke to him. Is Fanny nearly ready P " " She will be here directly," replied I ; and the words had scarcely escaped my lips when she made her appearance, looking so lovely in her hat and habit, that I felt sure it would be all over with Lawless as soon as he saw her. " Why, Fanny," exclaimed Oaklands, dismounting slowly and with effort, for he was still lamentably weak, " I have not seen you in a habit so long, I declare I should scarcely have known you ; the effect is quite magical." A smile and a blush were her only reply ; and Oaklands continued, "Will you not like to mount now? Lawless wiU join us; but he FRANK FAIRLEGH 281 means to abandon us again when we get near Eversley Gorse, for the superior attractions of a run with the subscription pack." " Oh, I hope the hounds will not come in our way ! " exclaimed Fanny ; " if you think there is any chance of their frightening my horse, I had better not nde to-day." " I do not think you need feel the least alarm ; though spu-ited, Rose Alba is perfectly quiet; besides, we are not boimd to ride towards Eversley, unless you approve of doing so," replied Oaklands. As he spoke. Lawless rode up just in time to catch the last few words. He was dressed in an appropriate hunting costume, and sat his horse (a splendid black himter, whose fiery temper i-endered all those in whom the bump of caution was properly developed remarkably shy of him) as easily as if he formed parf of the animal. As he checked his impatient steed, and taking off his hat, bowed to Fanny, his eyes sparkling, and his whole countenance beaming with pleasure and excitement, he really looked quite handsome. The same idea seemed to strike Fanny, who whispered to me, " If ever yom- friend has his picture taken, it should be on horseback." " Good-moming, Miss Fairlegh I " cried Lawless, as, flinging the rein to a gi-oom, he sprang from the saddle, and bounded towards us ; " glad to see you in what I consider the most becoming dress a lady can wear — very becoming it is too," he added, with a slight bend of the head to mark the compliment. " What did I hear you say about not riding to Eversley H You never can be so cruel as to deny me the pleasiu-e of your company, and I must go there to join the meet. I would not have hunted to-day, though, if I had kno^vn you wished to ride in another direction." " It was only that Fanny was afraid the hounds might frighten her horse," replied I. '• Oh, not the least danger ; I'll take care of all that," returned Lawless ; " the little white mare is as gentle as a lamb : I cantered her across the park myself yesterday on purpose to try— the sweetest thing for a lady I ever set eyes on. You have got some good cattle in your stables. Harry, I must own that." " Hadn't we better think of mounting ? Time will not stand still for us," observed I. " Let me assist you, Fanny," said Oaklands, advancing towards her. " Thank you," replied Fanny, drawing back ; " but I need not give you the trouble ; Frank will help me." '■ Here, get out of the way ! " ci-ied Lawless, as I hesitated, fancy- ing from the shade on Oaklands' brow that he might not like to be interfered with ; " I see none of you know how to help a lady properly. Bring up that mare," he continued, " closer — that's it ; stajid before her head. Now, Miss Fairlegh, take a firm hold of the pummel; place your foot in my hand— are you ready ?— spring ! there we are— famously done ! Oh, you know what you are about, I see. Let me give you the rein— between the fingers; yes— the snaflBe will manage her best ; the cm-b may hang loose, and only use it if it 282 FRANK PAIRLEGH is necessai-y ; let the groom stand l)y her till I am mounted ; the black horse is rather fidgety ; soh ! boy, soh ! quiet !— stand, you brute ! — there's a good lx>y ; steady, steady — off we go ! " As Lawless pushed by me at the ]>eginning of this sijeech, Oak- lands advanced towards him, and his pale cheek flushed with anger. Apparently, however, changing his intention, he drew himself up haughtily, and, turning on his heel, walked slowly t<:) his horee. moimted, and reining him back a few jjaces, sat motionless as an equestrian statue, gazing on the party with a gloomy brow until we had started, when, suddenly applying the spur, he joined us in a couple of bounds, and took his station at Fanny's left hand. Law- less, having appropriated the off side, devoted himself to the double task of managing the Arab and doing the agreeable to its fair rider, which latter design he endeavoured to accomplish by chattering incessantly. After proceeding a mile or two, Lawless sustaining the whole bm-den of the convei"sation, while Oaklands never spoke a word, we came upon a piece of level greensward. " Here's a famous place for a canter. Miss Fairlegh," exclaimed Lawless ; " lean a little more towards me — that's right. Are you ready ! — just tickle her neck with the whip — not too hard — jerk the rein slightly — gently, mare, gently— there's a good horse, that's it ! Eh! don't you see she settles into her pace as quietly as a rocking- horse— oh ! she's a sweet thing for a feather-weight ; " and restraining the plunging of the fiery aninuil he rode, he leaned over, and patted the Arab's arched neck, as they went off at an easy canter. I was about to follow their example, but observing that Oaklands delayed putting his horse in motion, it occun-ed to me that this being the first ride he hud taken since his illness, the exertion might possibly be too much for his strength ; I waited, therefore, till he joined me, when I inquired whether he felt any ill effects from the unwonted exertion ? " No," was the reply. " I feel an odd kind of fluttering in my side, but it is only weakness." " Had you not better give it up for to-day, and let me ride back with you? I daresay Lawless would not care about hunting for once, and would see Fanny home." " I will NOT go back," he replied sternly ; then checking himself, he added in a milder tone, " I mean to say, it is not necessary — really I do not feel ill — besides, it was only a passing sensation, and is already nearly gone." He paused for a moment, and then continued, " How very dictatorial and disagreeable Lawless has grown of late, and what absurd nonsense be does talk when he is in the society of ladies ! I wonder your sister can tolerate it." " She not only tolerates it," returned I, slightly piqued at the contemptuous tone in which he spoke of Lawless, " but is excessively amused by it ; why, she said last night he was quite delightful." FRANK FAIRLEGH 283 "I gave her credit for better taste," was Oaklands' reply; and striking his horse impatiently with the spur, he dashed forward, and in a few moments we had rejoined the others. '• I hope illness has not soured Hariy's temper, but he certamly appears more prone to take offence than in former days was my inward comment, as I pondered over his last words. I am afW Fanny has annoyed him ; I must speak to her, and give her a hint to be more careful for the future." Half an hour's brisk riding brought us to the outskirts of a broad common, a gi-eat portion of which was covered by the gorse or fmze J^omwhichTt took its name. Around the sides of this were gathered from Tix y to eighty well-mounted men, either coUected m gi-oups, to '^rusTthVl/ous topics of local interest which occupy the minds of country gentlemen, or riding up and down m parties of two and th^e together, impatient for the commencement o their monimgs Bport- while, in a small clear space, neariy m the centi-e of the fu"e-brake, were stationed the hounds, with the huntsman and "'The"" r '■ exclaimed Lawless. " look at thac. Talk about operas and exhibitions! where wiU you find an exhibition as well worth "eing as that is ? I caU that a sight for an empress. Now are not vou elad I made you come. Miss Fairlegh t- ,., „ r ;i ^"Ihe id coats look very gay and picturesque, certainly replied Fanny " and what loves of horses, with their satin skins glistening inThe sunshine ! But I wish Rose Alba would not pnck up her ear. in tViif wav • I'm rather frightened. Whle Lawless was endeavouring to convince her there was no daJger and that he was able and wiUing to fi-ustrate any nefarious deS which might enter mto the gi-aceful little head of the white ^Ta yo^g man rode up to Oaklands, and shaking him warmly ^ the hand, c'ongi-atulated him on being once more on hc^seback. "Ah, Whitcombe, it's a long time since you and I have met, ».p+nmpd HaiTY ; " you have been abroad, I think • Yes '• w^the reply ; " Charles and I have been doing the grand tour, as they call it." '.'•Orhe^TnX'nly'iebas g,o^ a g.-e.t pair o£ mousUches.. andJin'tc'uf.helofi; he has taken up Y'"'"'' ^^^'f^^lX Xutth. hr„nLttahe is of her, though he does boast so much 284 FRANK FAIRLEGH the master of the hounds ; you'll see some fun directly. Ali I I th<>u>rht 80." As he spoke, at a signal from the huntsman, the hounds dashed into cover, and were instantly lost to sight in a waving sea of gorse, save when a head or neck became visible for a moment, juj some dog, more eager than the rest, sprang over a tangled brake, through which he was unable to force his way. " Oh, you beauties ! " resumed Lawless enthusiastically, " only watch them ; they're drawing it in first-i-ate style, and there's rare lying in that cover. Now see how the furze shakes — look at their stems flourishing; have at him there — have at him; that's right, Tom — cheer 'em on, boy — good huntsman is Tom Field — there again ! — a fox, I'll bet jESOO to a pony — hark ! a whimiier — now wait — a challenge ! — another and another — listen to them — there's music — watch the right-hand comer — that's where he'll break cover for a thousand, and if he does, what a run we shall have ! Look at those .fools," he added, pointing to a couple of cockney-looking fellows who were cantering towards the very place he had pointed to ; " they'll head him back, as sure as fate — hold hard tliere — why does not some- body stop them ? By Jove. I'll give them a taste of the double thong when I get up with them, even if it's the Lord Mayor of London and his brother. Look to your sister, Frank ; I'll be back directly." " Wait one minute," shouted I, but in vain ; for before the words were well out of my mouth, he had driven the spui*s into his eager horse, and was galloping furiously in the direction of the unhappy delinquents who had excited his indignation. My reason for asking him to wait a minute was, that just as the hounds began drawing the cover, I had made the agreeable discovery that the strap to which one of my saddle girths was buckled had given way, and that there was nothing for it but to dismount and repair the evil ; and I had scarcely concluded the best temporary an-angement I was able to effect, when Lawless started in pursuit of the cockneys. Almost at the same moment a counti-yman, stationed at the outside of the gorse, shouted " Tally-ho ! " and the fox broke cover in gallant style, going away at a rattling pace, with four or five couple of hounds on his traces. In an instant all was confusion, cigars were thrown away, hats pressed firmly down upon the brow. and. with a rush like the outbui'st of some mighty toiTent, the whole field, to a man, swept rapidly onward. In the meanwhile Fanny's mare, which had for some minutes shown symptoms of excitement, pawing the ground with her fore-foot, pricking up her ears, and tossing her head impatiently, began, as Lawless rode off, to plunge in a manner which threatened at every moment to unseat her rider, and as sevei-al horsemen dashed by her, becoming utterly immanageable, she set off at a wild gallop, drown- ing in the clatter of her hoofs Fanny's agonized cry for help. Driven nearly frantic by the peril in which my sister was placed, I was even yet prevented for a minute or more from hastening to hei' assistance, FRANK FAIRLEGH 285 as my own horse, frightened by the occurrences I have described, struggled so violently to follow his companions as to render it very difficult for nie to hold, and quite impossible to remount him, so that when at length I siicceeded in springing on his back, the hounds were already out of sight, and Fanny and her runaway steed so far ahead of me, that it seemed inevitable some accident must occur before I could overtake them, and it was with a sinking heart that I gave my horse the rein, and dashed forward in pui-suit. The coui'se which Lawless had taken when he started on his wild- goose chase was down a ride cut through the fiu-ze, and it was along this turfy track that Rose Alba was now hurrying in her wild cai-eer. The horse on which I was mounted was a young thoroughbred, standing nearly sixteen hands high, and I felt certain that in the pursuit in which T was engaged, the length of his stride would tell, and that eventuaUy we must come up with the fugitives ; but so fleet was the little Ai-ab, and so light the weight she had to carry, that I was soiTy to perceive I gained iipon them but slowly. It was clear that I should not overtake them before they reached the outskirts of the common, and then who could say what course the mare might take — what obstacles might not be in her way ? On — on we go in our headlong course, the turf re-echoing to the muffled strokes of the horse's feet, while the furze waving in the wind seemed to glide by us in a rapid stream. Onward — still onwai-d ; the edge of the gorse appears a dark line in the distance— it is passed ; we are crossing the belt of turf that surrounds it — and now, in what direction will the mare proceed ? Will she take the broad road to the left, which leads again to the open country by a gentle ascent, where she can be easily overtaken and stopped ; or will she turn to the right, and follow the lane, which leads across the terrace-field to the brook, swoollen by the late rains into a river ? See ! she slackens her pace— she wavers, she doubts — she will choose the road ! No ; by Heaven ! she turns -to the i-ight, and dashing down the lane like a flash of lightning, is for a moment hidden from view. But the space of time, short as it was, when her speed slackened, has enabled me to gain upon her considerably ; and when I again catch sight of her she is not more than fifty yards ahead. Forward ! good horse — forward I Life or death hangs upon thy fleetness. Vain hope ! another turn brings us in sight of the brook, swollen by the breaking up of the frost into a dark, turbulent stream. Fanny perceives it too, and utters a cry of terror, which rings like a death-knell on my ear. There seems no possibility of escape for her ; on the left hand an impenetrable hedge ; on the right a steep bank, rising almost perpen- dicularly to the height of a man's head ; in front the rushing water ; while the mare, apparently irritated to frenzy by my pursuit, gallops wildly forward. Ha ! what is that ? a shout ! and the figure of a man on horseback appears on the high ground to the right, between Fanny and the stream. He perceives the danger, and if he dare attempt the leap from the bank, may yet save her. Oh that I were 286 FRAXK FAIRLEGH in hiH place ! Hark ! he shoutB ajjain to warn us of his intention, and putting; Bpura to his horse, fiu-es him boldly ut it. The home perceives the danf^er, and will refuse the leap. No ! urtfed by his rider, he will take it yet — now he Hprinirs it is certain destnii'tion. A crash ! a fall ; they are down ! No : he has lifted his horse with the rein — they are apparently uninjured. Rose Alha, stiirtlod l>y the sudden appJirition, slackens her pace; the stninu'er, takini; af mind I have suffered on her account, yon would be able to form some slij^ht i^8ed ; but you do not listen to me -you turn as pale as ashes— are yon iUP" " It is nothinj? — a little faint or so," was his reply, in a voiee so weak as to In? scarcely audible; and as he 8j)oke, his head dropi)ed heavily on hi.s shoulder, and he would have fallen from his horse had not I caujfht him in my arms and supported him. Givini? the horses into the custody of a fanninplad (who had seen the leap, and run up, fearinif some accident had occiirred), I lifted Oaklands from the saddle, and layintr him on the turf by the road- side, supptirted his head a^rainst my knee, while I endeavoured to loosen his neckcloth. Neither its removal, however, nor the un- fastening his shirt -collar, api>eared to revive him in the slitjhtest depree, and, Viein)? (juite unaccustomed to seizures of this nature, I lie^an to feel a fjood deal fri^rhtened about him. I suppose my face in some dejn*ee betrayed my thoughts, as Fanny, after (?lancin(? at me for a moment, exclaimed, wrinpin^' her hands in the excess of her irrief and alai'm. " Oh ! he is dead — he is dead ! and it is I who have killed him ! " Then, flinfrintr herself on her knees by his side, and takinjr his hand between both her own, she continued, " Oh, Harry, look up— speak to me — only one word ;— he does not hear me — he will never speak a^ain I Oh ! he is dead — he is dead ! and it is I who have murdered him — I, who would gladly have died for him, as he has died for me." As she said this, her voice failed her. and, completely overcome by T''\ -■ FRANK FAIRLEGH 287 the idea that she had been the cause of Harry's death, she buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly. At this moment it occurred to me that water might possibly revive him. and rousing Fanny from the passion of gi-ief into which she had fallen, I made her take my place in supporting Oaklands' head, and running to the stream, which was not above fifty yards from the spot, filled my hat with water, sprinkled his face and brow with it, and had the satisfaction of seeing him gradually revive under the application. As consciousness returned, he gazed around with a bewildered look, and passing his hand across his forehead, inquired, "What is all this ? where am I ? Ah ! Frank, have I been ill ? " " You fainted from over-exertion, Hari-y," replied I ; " but all will be well now." " From over-exertion ? " he repeated slowly, as if striving to recall what had passed ; " stay, yes, I remember, I took a foolish leap ; why did I do it ? " " To stop Fanny's mare." " Yes, to be sure, the water was out at the brook, and I thought the mare might attempt to cross it; but is Fanny safe? "Where is she?" " She is here," replied I, turning towards the pla<;e where she still knelt, her face hidden in her hands. " She is here to thank you for having saved her life." " Why, Fanny, was it you who were supporting my head ? how very kind of you ! What, crying ? " he continued, gently attempting to withdraw her hands ; " nay, nay, we must not have you cry." " She was naturally a good deal frightened by the mare's iimning a.way," replied I, as Fanny still appeai'ed too much overcome to speak for herself ; " and then she was silly enough to fancy, when you fainted, that you were actually dead, I believe ; but I can assm-e you that she is not ungi-ateful." " No, indeed," murmured Fanny, in a voice scarcely audible from emotion. " Why, it was no very gi-eat feat, after all," rejoined Harry. " On such a jumper as the Cid, and coming down on soft marshy ground too, I would not mind the leap any day ; besides, do you think I was going to remain quietly there, and see Fanny drowned before my eyes ? if it had been a precipice, I would have gone over it." While he spoke Han-y had regained his feet ; and after walking up and down for a minute or so, and giving himself a shake, to see if he was all right, he declared that he felt quite strong again, and able to i-ide home. And so, having devised a leading-rein for Rose Alba, one end of which I kept in ray own possession, we remounted oui* horses, and reached Heathfield without fui-ther misadventvu-e. 288 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XLIII. A CHARADE— NOT ALL ACTINO. " And then, anrl much it helped his chance — He could sinp, and play first fiddle, and dance — Perform charades, and proverbs of France." Hood. " I have often heard this and that and t'other pain mentioned as the worst that mortals can endure — such as the toothache, earache, cramp in the calf of the lep , a boil, or a blister — now, I protest, thouph I have tried all these, nothing seems to me to come up to a, pretty »harp fit ofjealouiy," — Thinki 1 to Myitlf. Lawless's penitence, when he learned the danger in which Fanny- had been placed by his thoughtlessness and impetuosity, was so deep and sincere, that it was impossible to be an^jry with him ; and even Oaklauds, who at first declared he considered his conduct unpardon- able, was obliged to confess that, when a man had owned liis fault frankly, and told you he was really son-y for it. nothing remained but to foi'give and forget it. And so everything fell into its old train once moi'e, and the next few days passed smoothly and uneventfully. I had again received a note from Clara, in answer to one I had written to her. Its tenor was much the same as that of the last she had sent me. Cumberland was still absent, and Mr. Vemor so constantly occupied that she saw very little of him. She begged me not to attempt to visit her at present ; a retiuest in the advisability of which reason so fiilly acquiesced, that although feeling rebelled against it with the greatest obstinacy, I felt bound to yield. Harry's strength seemed now so thoroiTghly re-established, that Sir John, who was never so happy as when he could exercise hospitality, had invited a party of friends for the ensuing week, several of whom were to stay at the Hall for a few days ; amongst others Freddy Coleman, who was to arrive beforehand, and assist in the preparations ; for charades were to be enacted, and he was reported skilful in the aiTangement of these satunialia of civilized society, or, as he himself expressed it, he was " up to all the dodges connected with the minor domestic enigmatical melodrama.'' By Hari-y's recommendation I despatched a letter to Mr. Frampton, claiming his promise of visiting me at Heathfield Cottage, urging as a reason for his doing so immediately that he would meet four of his old Helmstone acquaintance, viz., Oaklands, Lawless. Coleman, and myself. The morning after Coleman's an-ival. the whole party formed themselves into a committee of taste, to decide on the most appropriate words for the charades, select dresses, and. in short, make all necessary arrangements for realizing a few of the very strong and original, but somewhat vague ideas, which everybody appeai-ed to have conceived on the subject. FRANK FAIRLEGH 289 Now, ladies and gentlemen," began Freddy, who had been unani- mously elected chairman, stage-manager, and commander-in-chief of the whole affair, " in the first place, who is willing to take a part? Let all those who wish for an engagement at the Theatre Royal, Heathfield, hold up their hands." Lawless, Coleman, and I were the first who made the required signal, and next the little white palms of Fanny and Lucy Markham (whom Mi's. Coleman had made over to my mother's custody for a few days) were added to the number. " Harry, you'll act, will you not ? " asked I. " Not if you can contrive to do without me," was the reply. " I did it once, and never was so tired in my life before. I suppose you mean to have speaking charades ; and there is something in the feel- ing that one has so many words to recollect, which obliges one to keep the memoi-y always on the stretch, and the attention up to concert pitch, in a way that is far too fatiguing to be agreeable." "Well, as you please, most indolent of men, pray make yourself quite at home — this is Liberty Hall, isn't it. Lawless?" retunied Coleman, with a glance at the person named, who, seated on the table, with his legs twisted round the back of a chair, was sacrificing etiquette to comfort with the most delightful unconsciousness. " Eh ! yes, to be sui-e, no end of liberty," rejoined Lawless ; " what are you laughing at ? — my legs ? They are very comfortable, I can tell you, if they're not over-ornamental ; never mind about attitude, let us get on to business : I want to know what I'm to do ? " " The first thing is to find out a good word," retunied Coleman. " What do you say to Matchlock ? " inquired I. " You might as well have Blunderbuss while you are about it," was the reply. " No, both words are dreadfxilly hackneyed ; let us try and find out something original, if possible." '■ Eh. yes, something original, by all means ; what do you say to Steeplechase ? " suggested Lawless. " Original, certainly," returned Freddy; " but there might be diffi- culties in the way. For instance, how would you set about acting a steeple ? " "Eh! never thought of that," rejoined Lawless; " I really don't know, unless Oaklands would stand with a fool's cap on his head to look like one." " Much obliged, Lawless ; but I'd rather be excused," replied Han-y, smiling. " I've got an idea ! " exclaimed I. " No, you don't say so ? you are joking," remarked Freddy, in a tone of affected surprise. " Stay a minute," continued I, musing. " Certainly, as long as you and Sir John like to keep me," rejoined Coleman politely. " Yes ! that will do ; come here, Freddy," added I, and, drawing him on one side, I communicated to him my ideas on the subject, of which, u 290 FRANK FAIRLEGH after Bupsrestinp one or two improvement* on my original de«i(rn. ho was graciously pleased to approve. Of what this idea consisted, the reader will be apprised in due time. Suffice it at present to add that Fanny, having consented to f>erforrn the i)art of a barmaid, and it l>**injr necessary to provide her with a lover. Lawless volunteered for the character, and supported his claim with so much perseverance, not to say obstinacy, that Coleman, albeit he considered him utterly unsuited to the part, was fain to yield to his importunity. For the next few days Heathfit^ld Hall jiresented one continual scene of bustle and confusion. Caqjenters were at work converting the library into an extempore theatre. Ladies and ladiea'-maida were busily occupied in manufaoturintr dresses. Lawless spent whole hours in pacinj? up and down the l»illiard-room, recitinir his part, which had l)een remodelh^d to suit him. and the acquisition of which appeared a labour analoj.'f>us to that of Sisyphus, as, by the time he reached the end of his ta.'^k, he hail invariably forgotten the )>eein- ninp. Everyone was in a state of the ^rreatest eapemess and excite- ment about somethinfr — nobody exactly knew what ; and the interest Ellis took in the whole affair was wonderful to behold. The un- necessary numlier of times people ran up and down 'stairs was in- conceivable, and tlip pace at which they did so terrific. Sir John spent his time in walkintr al>out with a hammor and a l)atr of nails, one of which he was constantly drivinir in and clenchinij beyond all X)Ower of extraction, in some totally wronjf place, a line of conduct which reduced the head-cari)enter to the borders of insanity. On the mominfj of the memorable day, when the event was to come off, Mr. Fi"ampton made his ai>ijearance in a hij?h state of pre- servation, shook my mother by l)oth hands as warmly as if he had knoTSTi her from childhood, and saluted the younjf ladies with a hearty kiss, to their extreme astonishment, which a paroxysm of g'nmtinfr (wound up by the usual solilixiuy, "Just like me ! ") did not tend to diminish. A larjre party was invited in the eveninjf to witness our performance, and. as some of the jrnests be^jan to arrive soon after nine, it was considered advisable that the actors and actresses should ffo and dress, so that they might be in readiness to appear when called upon. The entei-tainments befjan with certain tableaux vivants, in which both Harry and I took a part ; the former ha\nnp been induced to do so by the assurance that nothincr would be expected of him but to stand still and be looked at — an occupation which even he could not consider vei-y hard work : and exceedingly well worth looking at he appeared when the cui-tain di-ew up, and discovered him as the Leicester in Scott's novel of " Kenilworth," the magnificent dress setting off his noble figure to the utmost advantage ; while Fanny, as Amy Robsai-t, looked prettier and more interesting than I had ever seen her before. Yarious tableaiix were in turn presented, and passed off with much " eclat," and then there was a pause, before the charade, the grand event of the evening, commenced. Oaklands and FRANK FAIRLEGH 291 I, having nothing to do in it (Fanny having coaxed Mr. Frampton into undertaking a short part which I was to have performed, but which she declared was so exactly suited to him that she would never forgive him if he refused to fill it), wished the actors success, and came in front to join the spectators. After about ten minutes of breathless expectation, the curtain drew up and exhibited Scene I., the Bar of a Country Inn ; and here I shall adopt the playwright's fashion, and leave the characters to tell their own tale : — Scene L Enter Susan Cowslip, the Barmaid (Fanny), and John Shoet- OATS, the Ostler (Lawless). John. Well, Susan, girl, what sort of a morning hast thee had of it ? how's master's gout to-day ? Susan. Very bad, John, very bad indeed ; he has not got a leg to stand upon ; and as to his shoe, ti-y eveiything we can think of, we can't get him to put his foot in it. (Extempore soliloquy by Lawless, Precious odd if he doesn't, for he's not half up in his part, I know.) John. Can't thee, really ? well, if that be the case, I needn't ask how his temper is ? Susan. Bad enough, I can tell you ; missus has plenty to bear, poor thing ! John. Indeed she has, and she be too young and pi-etty to be used in that manner. Ah ! that comes of manning an old man for his money ; she be uncommon pretty, to be sure ; I only knows one prettier face in the whole vilhige. Susan (with an air of forced imconcem). Ay, Jolin, and whose may that be, pray ? Mai-y Bennett, perhaps, or Lucy Jones ? John. No, it ain't either of them. Susan. Who is it, then ? John. Well, if thee must needs know, the party's name is Susan. Susan (still with an air of unconsciousness). Let me see, where is there a Susan ; let me think a minute. Oh ! one of Darling the blacksmith's girls, I dare say ; it's Susan Darling ! John (inibbing his nose, and looking cunning). Well, 'tis Susan, darling, certainly ; yes, thee be'st about right there — Susan, darling. Susan (pouting). So you're in love with that girl, are you, Mr. John ? A foolish, flirting thing, that cares for nothing but dancing and finely; a nice wife for a poor man she'U make, indeed — charming ! John. Now, don't thee go and fluster thyself about nothing, it ain't that girl as I'm in love with ; I was only a-making fun of thee. Susan (crossly). There, I wish you wouldn't keep teasing of me so ; I don't care anything about it— I dare say I've never seen her. John. Oh! if that's all, I'll very soon show her to thee — come 292 FRANK FAlUUaill alunt;. (Takes her hand, ami leads her up to the lookintf-irUuM.) There's tlie SuHan I'm in love with, and hop© to luarrjr nonie day. Hasn't she jfot a pretty fare? and inn't she a DARLl!iitiently, Siiiuin I Susan!) Susan. Coming, sir. i-ominif. ( VVijwts her «>yi»s with her apron.) John. Let the
! If this is all ..ni» jfr«ts by innkoepint;. it's not worth bavinp. I keep the inn. and I exjiect the inn to keep me. (Aside, Horrid old joke, what made me put that in. I wonder? just like me — umph !) There's my wife, too— pretty hoatetM she noakea. John. So she does, master, suredy. Landlord. HoM your t«>riirti.\ fool -what do you know about it f (Bell nn>?8.) There, do you lu>ar that ? nm ami see who that is, or I shall loose a customer by your cart"li»s«nei«s next. Oh ! the Ijother of servunt.s- oh! the tnjuble of keepinjf an inn! (Hobblee out. drivinfr Susan and John before him. Curtain falls.) As the first scene ended, the audience applauded loudly, and then bejran hazardinir vari. MIS conjectures as to the possible nioanim; of what thoy had witn.vss..d. Whilo th»» confusion of sounds was at the hiphest. Oaklands drew me on one si.le, and inquired, in an under- tone, what I thout:ht of I^awlcsw'g actinjf. "I was atrreeably suHH-ised." returned I. " I had no notion he would have entered into the part so thoroughly, or have acted with so much spirit." " He did it * con aniore,' certainly." replied Oaklands with bitter- ness; '■ I considered his manner im|H>rtinent in the hijfhest deirree. I wonder you can allow him to act with your sister; that man is in love with her— I f.^1 sure of it— h*> meant every word he said. I hate this kind of thinj; altoffether— I never approved of it : no lady should be subjected to such annoyance." " Supposing it really wei-e as you fancy, Harry, how do you know it would be so great an annoyance? It is just possible Fanny may like him." rejoined I. " Ob, certainly ! pray let me know when I am to congratiUate you," FRANK FAIRLEGH 293 replied Oaklands, with a scomfid laugh; and, turning away abruptly, he crossed the room, joined a party of young ladies, and began talking and laughing with a degree of recklessness and excitability quite unusual to him. While he was so doing, the curtain drew up, and discovered Scene II.— best koom in the inn. Enter Susan, showing in Hyacinth Adonis Brown (Coleman), dressed as a caricatui-e of the fashion, with lemon-coloured kid gloves, staring-patterned trousers, sporting-coat, etc. SrSAN. This is the settin'-room, if you please, sir. Hyacinth (fixing his glass in his eye, and scrutinizing the apartment). This is the settin'-woom, is it ? to set, to incubate as a hen — can't mean that, I imagine — pwovincial idiom, pwobably — aw — ya'as — I dare say I shall be able to exist in it as long as may be necessai'y — ar — let me have dinaar, young woman, as soon as it can be got weady. Susan. Yes, sir. "What would you please to like, sir ? Hyacinth (looking at her with his glass still in his eye). Hem ! pwetty gal — ai- — like, my dear, like ? — (Vewy pwetty gal !) Susan. Beg pardon, sir, what did you say you would like ? Hyacinth. Chickens tender here, my dear ? Susan. Vei-y tender, sir. Hyacinth (approaching her). What's your name, my dear? Susan. Susan, if you please, sir. Hyacinth. Yewy pwetty name, indeed — (Aside, Gal's worth cultivating — I'll do a little bit of fascination.) Ahem ! Chickens, Susan, are not the only things that can be tendar. (Advances, and attempts to take her hand. Enter John hastily, and iiins against Hyacinth, appai'ently by accident.) Hyacinth (angrily). Now, feUai-, where ai-e you pushing to, eh? John. Beg parding, sir, I was a-looking for you, sii'. (Places himself between Susan and Hyacinth.) Hyacinth. Looking for me, feUar ? John. I ha' rubbed do^vn yom- horse, sir, and I was a wishin' to know when you would like him fed. (Makes signs to Susan to leave the room.) Hyacinth. Fed ?— aw ! — directly, to be su-ar. (To Susan, who is going out :) Ar — don't you go. John. No, sir, I ain't a-going. When shall I water him, sir ? Hyacinth (aside, Tellar talks as if the animal were a pot of mignonette). Ai* — you'll give him some wataar as soon as he's eaten his dinaar. John. Weri-y good, sir; and how about hay, su- ? Hyacinth (aside. What a bo-ar the feUow is ! I wish he'd take himseH off) . Weally, I must leave the hay to your discwession. John. WeiTy well, sir; couldn't do a better thing, sir. How 294 FRANK FAIRLEGH about his clotliing ! shall I keep a cloth on him, sir ? (Winks at Susan, who goes oiit laughing.) Hyacinth. Taas ! Tou can keep a cloth on — ar — and — that ■will do. (Waves his hand towards the door.) John. Do you like his feet stopped at night, sir ? Hyacinth. Ai- — I leave all these points to my gwoom — ar — would you go ? John. I suppose there ■will be no harm in water-brushing his mane? Hyacinth (angrily). Ar — weally I — ar — will you go ? John. Becos some folks thinks it makes the hair come off. Hyacinth (indignantly). Ar — leave the woom, fellar! John. Yes, sir ; you may depend upon me takin' proper care on him, sir ; and if I should think o' anything else, I'll be sure to come and ask you, sir. (Goes out grinning.) Hyacinth. Howwid fellar — I thought I should never get wid of him — it's evident he's jealous — ar, good idea — I'll give him something to be jealous abou^t. I'll wing the beU and finish captivating Susan. (Rings. Re-enter John.) John. Want me, sir ? Here I am, sii* — fed the horse, sir. Hyacinth (waving his hand angrily towards the door). Ai* — go away, fellar, and tell the young woman to answaar that bell. (John leaves the room, muttering. If I do I'm blessed. Hyacinth struts up to the glass, arranges his haii-, pulls up his shirt-collar, and rings again. Re-enter Susan.) Hyacinth. Pway, Susan, are you going to be ma^mvied ? Susan (colovuing). No, sir — a — yes, sir — I can't tell, sir. Hyacinth. No, sir — yes, sir — ar — I see how it is — the idea has occun*ed to you — it's that fellar John, I suppose ? Susan. Yes, sii* — it's John, sir, if you please. Hyacinth. Well — ar — perhaps I don't exactly please. Now, listen to me, Susan. I'm an independent gentleman, vewy wich (aside. Wish I was), lots of servants and cawwiages, and all that soii; of thing. I only want a ■ndfe, and — ahem— captivated by your beauty, I'm wesolved to ma^svwy you. (Aside, That ■wiU do the business.) Susan. La ! sir, you're joking. Hyacinth. Ar — I never joke — ar — of course you consent! Susan. To marry you, sir P Hyacinth. Ar — yes — to mawwy me. Susan. What ! and give up John ? Hyacinth. I fear we cannot dispense with that sac^nifice. Susan. And you would have me prove false to my true love ; deceive a poor lad that cares for me ; wring his honest heart, and perhaps drive him to take to evil courses, for the sake of your fine carriages and seiwants ? No, sir, if you was a duke, I would not give up John to many you. Hyacinth. Vewy fine, you did that little bit of constancy in FRANK FAIRLEGH 295 vewy good style ; but now, having welieved your feelings, you may as well do a little bit of natui-e, and own that, womanlike, you have changed yoiu- mind. SusAX. When I do, sir, I'll be sure to let you know. (Aside, A dandified fop ! why, John's worth twenty such as him.) I'll send John in with youi- dinner, sir. [Cui'tsies and exit, leaving Hyacinth transfixed vdth astonishment.] Scene III. — front of inn. Enter Susan with black ribbons in her cap. Susan. Heigho! so the gout's can-ied off poor old master at last. AJti ! well, he was always a great plague to evei-ybody, and it's one's duty to be resigned — he's been dead more than two months now, and it's above a month since mistress went to Broadstairs for a change, and left John and me to keep house^ah ! it was very pleasant — we was so comfortable. Now, if in a year or two mistress was to sell the business, and John and me could save money enough to buy it, and was to be married, and live here ; la ! I should be as happy as the day's long. I've been dull enough the last week though — for last Monday — no, last Saturday — that is, the Saturday before last, John went for a holiday to see his friends in Yorkshire, and there's been nobody at home but me and the cat — I can't think what ailed him before he went away, he seemed to avoid me like ; and when he bid me good-bye, he told me if I should hapijen to pick up a sweetheart while he was gone, he would not be jealous — what could he mean by that ? I dare say he only said it to tease me. I ought to have a letter soon to say when mistress is coming back. (Enter boy with letter, which he gives to Susan, and exit.) Well, that is curious — it is from Broadstairs, I see by the postmark. Why, bless me, it's in John's handwi-iting — he can't be at Broad- stairs, surely — I feel all of a tremble. (Opens the letter and reads.) *' My dear Seusan, Haf ter i left yeu, I thort i should not ave time to go hall the way to York, so by way of a change i cum down here where I met poor Mrs., who seemed quite in the dumps and low like, about old master being dead, which is human natur cut down like gi*ass, Seusan, and not having a creetur to speak to, naturally took to me, which was an old tho' humbel friend, Seusan — and — do not think me guilty of hinconstancy, which I never felt, but the long and short of it is that we was mamed " (the wretch !) " yesterday, and is comin' home to-moiTOw, where I hopes to remain very faithfully your affexionate Master and Mrs. "John and Betsey Shoetoats." (Susan tears the letter, bursts into tears, and sinks back into a chair fainting — curtain di'ops.) 296 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XLIV. CONFESSIONS. ". . . And sure the match Were rich and honourable." TiBO Gentlemen of Verona. " We that are true lovers run into strange capers." — A$ Tou Like It. " . . . . That which I would discover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal." Two Oentlemen of Verona. " Tarry I here, I but attend on death ; But fly I hence, I fly away from life." "Dear me! what can it possibly mean ? how I wish I could guess it ! " said the youngest Miss Simper. "Do you know what it is, Mr. Oaklands ? " asked the second Miss Simper. " I am sure he does, he looks so delightfully wicked," added the eldest Miss Simi^er, shaking her ringlets in a fascinating manner, to evince her faith in the durability of their curl. The eldest Miss Simper had been out four seasons, and spent the last winter at Nice, on the strength of which she talked to young men of themselves in the third person, to show her knowledge of the world, and embodied in her behaviom- generally a complete system of "Matrimony-made-easy, or the whole Art of getting a good Establishment," proceeding from early lessons in convertuig acquaintance into flirts, up to the important final clause — how to lead young men of property to propose. " Really," replied Oaklands, " my face must be far more expressive and less honest than I was aware of, for I can assui'e you they have studiously kept me in the dark as to the meaning." " But you have made out some idea for yourself ; it is impossible that it should be otherwise," observed the second Miss Simper, who had rubbed off some of her shyness upon a cei-tain young Hebrew Professor at the last Cambridge Installation, and become rather blue from the contact. "Have you?" said the yoimgest Miss Simper, who, being as nearly a fool as it is possible to allow that a pretty girl of seventeen can be, rested her pretensions upon a plaintive voice and a pensive smile, which went just far enough to reveal an irreproachable set of teeth, and then faded away into an expression of gentle sorrow, the source of which, like that of the Niger, had as yet remained undis- covered. " Oh, he has ! " exclaimed the eldest Miss Simper ; " that exquisitely sarcastic, yet tantalizing, curl of the upper-lij) tells me that it is so." " Since you press me," replied Oaklands, " I confess, I believe I have guessed it." FRANK FAIRLEGH 297 " I knew it — it could not have been otherwise," exclaimed the blue belle enthusiastically. The youngest Miss Simper spoke not, but her appealing glance, and the slight exliibition of the pearl-like teeth, seemed to hint that some mysterious increase of her secret sorrow might be expected in the event of Oaklands refusing to communicate the results of his penetration. " As I make it out," said Han-y, " the first scene was Inn, the second Constancy, and the third Inconstancy." " Ah ! that wi-etch John, he was the Inconstancy," observed the eldest Miss Simper, " man-ying for money ! — the creature ! — such baseness ! but how delightfully that dear, clever Mr. Lawless acted; he made love with such naive simplicity, too ; he is quite irresistible." "I shall take care to let him know yoiu* Hattering opinion," returned Oaklaads, with a faint attempt at a smile, while the gloom on his brow grew deeper, and the Misses Simper were in their turn deserted ; the eldest gaining this slight addition to her worldly know- ledge, viz. that it is not always prudent to praise one friend to another, unless you happen to be a little more behind the scenes than had been the case in the present instance. " Umph ! Frank Fairlegh, whei-e are you ? come here, boy," said Mr. Frampton, seizing one of my buttons, and towing me thereby into a corner. " Pretty girl, youi- sister Fanny — nice girl, too — umph ! " " I'm very glad she pleases you, sir," replied I ; "as you become better acquainted with her, you will find that she is as good as she looks — if you like her now, you will soon grow veiy fond of her — everybody becomes fond of Fanny." " Umph ! I can see one who is, at all events. Pray, sir, do you mean to let yom- sister marry that good-natured, well-disposed, harum- scarum young fool, Lawless ? " " This is a matter I leave entirely to themselves ; if Lawless wishes to maiTy Fanny, and she likes him well enough to accept him, and his parents approve of the aii-angements, I shall make no objection : it would be a very good match for her." " Umph ! yes — she would make a very nice addition to his stud," returned Mr. Frampton, in a more sarcastic tone than I had ever heard him use before. " What do you suppose are the girl's own wishes ? is she willing to be Empress of the Stable ? " " Really, sir, you ask me a question which I am quite unable to answer ; young ladies are usually reserved upon such subjects, and Fanny is especially so ; but from my own observations, I am inclined to think that she likes him." " Umph ! dare say she does ; women are always fools in these cases — men too, for that matter — or else they would take pattern by me, and continue in a state of single blessedness ; " then came an aside, " Single wretchedness more likely, nobody to care about one— nothing to love — die in a ditch like a beggar's dog, without a pocket-hand- 298 FRANK FAIRLEGH kerchief wetted for one— there's single blessedness for you ! ride in a hearse, and have some fat fool chuckling in the sleeve of his black coat over one's hard-earaed money. Nobody shall do that with mine, though ; for I'll leave it all to build union workhouses and encomage the slave-ti-ade, by way of revenging myself on society at large. Wonder why I said that, when I don't think it ! just like me — umph ! " " I am not at all sure but that this may prove a mere vision of our own too lively imaginations, after all," replied I, " or that Lawless looks upon Fanny in any other light than as the sister of his old friend, and an agreeable girl to talk and laugh with ; but if it should turn out otherwise, I shoidd be sorry to think that it is a match which will not meet with your approval, sir." " Oh ! I shall approve — I ahva3s approve of everything — I dai-e say he'll make a capital husband — he's very kind to his dogs and horses. Umph! silly boy, silly girl— when she could easily do better, too. Umph! just like me, bothering myself about other people, when I might leave it alone— silly girl though, very ! " So saying, Mr. Frampton walked away, gninting like a whole drove of pigs, as was his wont when annoyed. The next moraing I was aroused from an uneasy sleep by the sun shining brightly through my shutters, and, springing out of bed, and throwiug open the window, I perceived that it was one of those lovely winter-days which appear sent to assure us that fogs, frost, and snow will not last for ever, but that Nature has brighter things in store for us, if we will bide her time patiently. To think of lying in bed on such a morning was out of the question, so, dressing hastily, I threw on a shooting jacket, and sallied forth for a stroll. As I wandered listlessly through the park, admiring the hoar-frost which glittered like diamonds in the early sunshine, clothing the brave old limbs of the time-honoured fathers of the forest with a fabric of silver tissue, the conversation I had held with Mr. Frampton about Fanny and Lawless recuiTed to my mind. Strange that Han-y Oaklands and Mr. Frampton— men so different, yet alike in generous feeling and honourable principle— should both evidently disapprove of such a union ; was I myself, then, so blinded by ideas of the worldly advantages it held forth, that I was unable to perceive its unfitness ? Would Lawless really prize her, as Tennyson has so well expressed it in his finest poem, as " Something better than his dog, a Uttle dearer than his horse" ? and was I about to sacrifice my sister's happiness for rank and fortune, those world-idols which, stripped of the supposititious attributes bestowed upon them by the bigotry of their worshippers, appear, in their true worthlessness, empty breath and perishable di-oss ? But most probably there was no cause for uneasiness ; after all, I was veiy likely won-ying myself most unnecessarily: what proof was there that Lawless really cared for Fanny ? His atten- tions—oh ! there was nothing in that— Lawless was shy and awkward FRANK FAIRLEGH 299^ in female society, and Fanny had been kind to him, and had taken the trouble to draw him out, therefore he liked her, and prefeiTed talking and laughing with her, rather than with any other girl with whom he did not feel at his ease. However, even if there should be anything more in it, it had not gone so far but that a little judicious snubbing would easily piit an end to it — I detei-niined, therefore, to talk to my mother about it after breakfast : she had now seen enough of Lawless to f onn her own opinion of him : and if she agreed with Oaklands and Mr. Frampton that his was not a style of character calculated to secui-e Fanny's happiness, we must let her go and stay with the Colemans, or find some other means of separating- them. I had just an-ived at this conclusion, when, on passing round the stem of an old tree which stood in the path, I encountered some person who was advancing rapidly in an opposite direction, meeting him so abruptly that we ran against each other with no small degree of violence. " Hold hard there ! you're on your wi-ong side, young fellow, and if yoii've done me the slightest damage, even scratched my varnish, I'll pull you up." " I wish you had pulled up a little quicker yourself, Lawless," replied I, for, as the reader has doubtless discovered from the style of his address, it was none other than the subject of my late reverie with whom I had come in collision. " I don't know whether I have scratched yoiu* varnish, as you call it, but I have knocked the skin off my own knuckles against the tree in the scrimmage." " Xever mind, man," returned Lawless, '' there are worse mis- f ortimes happen at sea ; a little sticking-plaster will set all to rights again. But look here, Fairlegh," he continued taking my arm, " I'm glad I happened to meet you ; I want to have five minutes' serious- conversation with you." " Won't it do after breakfast ? " interposed I, for my fears con- strued this appeal into " confirmation strong as holy writ " of my previous suspicions, and I wished to be fortified by my mother's opinion before I in any degi-ee committed myself. All my pre- cautions were, however, in vain. " Eh ! I won't keep you five minutes, but you see this sort of thing will never do at any price ; I'm all wi-ong altogether — sometimes I feel as if fire and water would not stop me, or cart-ropes hold me — then again I grow as neiwous as an old cat with the palsy, and sit moping in a comer like an owl in fits. Last hunting-day I was just as if I was mad — pressed upon the pack when they were getting away — rode over two or thi-ee of the tail hounds, laid 'em sprawUng on their backs, like spread eagles, till the huntsman swore at me loud enough to split a three-inch oak plank — went slap at everything that came in my way — took rails, fences, and timber, all flying, rough and smooth as nature made 'em — in short, showed the whole field the way across counti-y at a pace which rather astonished them, I fancy; well, at last there was a check, and before the hounds 300 FRANK FAIRLEGH got on the scent afjain, something seemed to come over me so that I could not ride a bit, and kept cranning at mole-hills and shirking gutters, till I wound up by getting a tremendous spill from checking my horse at a wi-etched little fence that he could have stepped over, and actually I felt so faint-hearted that I gave it up as a bad job, and rode home ready to eat my hat with vexation. But I know what it is, I'm in love — that confounded charade put me up to that dodge. I fancied at first that I had got an ague, one of those off-and-on affairs that always come just when you don't want them, and was going to ask Ellis to give me a ball, but I found it out just in time, and precious glad I was too, for I never could bear taking physic since I was the height of sixpenny-worth of halfpence." " Really, Lawless, I must be getting home." " Eh ! wait a minute ; you haven't an idea what a desperate state I'm in ; I had a letter returned to me yesterday, with a line from the post-office clerk, saying no such person could be found, and, when I came to look at the address I wasn't suiprised to hear it. I had written to give some orders about a dog-cart that is building for me, and dii-ected my letter to Messrs. Lovely Fanny, Coachmakers, Long Acre. Things can't go on in this way, you know— I must do some- thing—come to the ])oint, eh ?— What do you say P " " Upon my word," rei)lied I, " this is a case in which I am the last person to advise you." " Eh ? no, it is not that— I'm far loeyond the reach of advice ; but what I mean is, your governor being dead— don't you see — I consider jou to stand 'in propria quae maribus,' as we used to say at old Mildman's." " ' In loco parentis ' is what you are aiming at, I imagine," returned I. "Eh! psha, it's all the same!" continued Lawless impatiently; " but what do you say about it ? Will you give your consent, and back me up a bit in the business ? — for I'm precious nervous, I can tell you." " Am I to understand, then," said I, seeing an explanation was inevitable, " that it is my sister who has inspired you with this very alarming attachment ? " '* Eh ! yes, of course it is," was the reply ; " haven't I been talking about her for the last ten minutes? You are growing stupid all at once ; did you think it was your mother I meant ? " " Not exactly," replied I, smiling ; " but have you ever considered what Lord Cashington would say to your man-ying a poor clergy- man's daughter ? " " What! my governor ? oh ! he'd be so delighted to get me married at any price, that he would not care who it was to, so that she was a lady. He knows how I shirk female society in general, and he is afraid I shall break my neck some of these fine days, and leave him the honour of being the last Lord Cashington as well as the first." FRANK FAIRLEGH 301 " And may I ask -whether you imagine your suit likely to be favourably received by the young lady herself ? " '■ Eh ! why, you see it's not so easy to tell ; I'm not used to the- ways of women, exactly. Now with horses I know every action, and can guess what they'd be up to in a minute ; for instance, if they prick up their ears, one may expect a shy, when they lay them back you may look out for a bite or a kick ; but, unliickily, women have not got movable ears." " No," replied I, laughing at this singular regret ; " they contrive to make their eyes answer nearly the same pui-pose, though. Well, Lawless, my answer is this — I cannot pretend to judge whether you and my sister are so constituted as to increase each other's happiness by becoming man and wife ; that is a point I must leave to her to decide ; she is no longer a child, and her destiny shall be placed in her own hands; but I think I may venture to say that if youi- parents are willing to receive her, and she is pleased to accept you, you need not fear any opposition on the part of my mother or myself." " That's the time of day," exclaimed Lawless, rubbing his hands with glee, " this is something like doing business ; oh ! it's jolly fun to be in love, after all. Then everything depends upon Fanny now ; but how am I to find out whether she will have me or not ? eh ! that's another sell." " Ask her," replied I ; and turning down a diiferent path, I left him to deliberate upon this knotty point in solitude. As I walked towards home my meditations assumed a somewhat gloomy colouring. The matter was no longer doubtful, Lawless was Fanny's declared suitor ; this, as he had himself obseiwed, was some- thing like doing business. Instead of planning with my mother how we could prevent the affair from going any farther. I must now infonn her of his offer, and find out whether she could give me any clue as to the state of Fanny's affections. And now that Lawless's intentions were cei-tain, and that it appeared by no means improbable he might succeed in obtaining Fanny's hand, a feeling of repugnance came over me, and I began to think Mr. Frampton was right, and that my sister was formed for better things than to be the companion for life of such a man as Lawless. From a reverie which thoughts like these had engendered. I was aroused by Harry Oaklands' favourite Scotch terrier, which attracted my attention by jumping and fa^NTiing upon me, and on raising my eyes I perceived the figure of his master, leaning, with folded arms, against the trunk of an old tree. As we exchanged salutations I was struck by an unusual air of dejection both in his manner and appearance. " You are looking ill and miserable this morning, Han-y ; is your side painful ? " inquired I anxiously. " No," was the reply, " I believe it is doing well enough ; EUis says so ; " he paused, and then resumed in a low hurried voice, " Frank, I am going abroad." 302 FRANK FAIRLEGH " Going abroad ! " repeated I, in astonishment ; " where are you goinf,' to? when ai*e you going? this is a very sudden resolution, surely." " I know it is, but I cannot stay here," he continued ; " I must get away — I am wretched, perfectly miserable." '* My dear Han*y," replied I, " what is the matter ? come, tell me ; as boys we had no concealments from each other, and this reserve which appears lately to have spming up between us is not well : what has occun-ed to render you unhappy ? " A deep sigh was for some minutes his only answer ; then, gazing steadily in my face, he said, " And have you really no idea ? — But why should I be sm-prised at the blintlness of othei*8, when I myself have only become awai-e of the true nature of my own feelings when my peace of mind is destroyed, and all chance of happiness for me in this life has fled for ever ! " " What do you mean, my dear, Hai'17^ ? " replied I ; " what can you refer to ? " " Have you not thought me very much altered of late ? " he continued. " Since you ask me, I have fancied that illness was beginning to sour your temi^er," I replied. " Illness of mind, not body," he resumed ; "for now, when life has lost all charm for me, I am regaining health and strength apace. You must have observed with what a jaundiced eye I have regarded everything that Lawless has said or done; what was the feeling, think you, which has led me to do so ? Jealousy ! " " Jealousy ! " exclaimed I. as for the first time the true state of the case flashed across me. '" Oh ! Hai-ry, why did you not speak of this sooner ? " " Why, indeed ! because in my blindness I fancied the afEection I entertained for your sister was merely a brother's love, and did not know, till the chance of losing her for ever opened my eyes effectually, that she had become so essential to my happiness that life without her would be a void. If you but knew the agony of mind I endured while they were acting that hat-eful charade last night! I quite shudder when I think how I felt towards Lawless ; I coiild have slain him where he stood without a shadow of compunction. No, I must leave this place without delay ; I woidd not go through what I suffered yesterday again for anything — I could not bear it." " Oh ! if we had but known this sooner," exclaimed I, " so much might have been done — I only jjarted from Lawless five miniates before I met you, telling him that if Fanny approved of his suit, neither my mother nor I would offer the slightest opposition. But is it really too late to do anything ? shall I speak to Fanny ? " " Not for worlds ! " exclaimed Oaklands impetuously ; " do not attempt to influence her in the slightest degi-ee. If, as my fears suggest, she really love Lawless, she must never learn that my affection for her has exceeded that of a brother — never know that FRANK FAIRLEGH 303 from hencefortli lier image will stand between me and happiness, and cast its shadow over tlie whole future of my life." He stood for a moment, his hands pressed upon his brow as if to shut out some object too painful to behold, and then continued abruptly, " Lawless has proposed, then ? " " He has asked my consent, and his next step will, of course, be to do so," replied I. " Then my fate will soon be decided," returned Oaklands. " Now listen to me, Frank ; let this matter take its course exactly as if this conversation had never passed between us. Should Fanny be doubt- ful, and consult you, do your duty as Lawless's friend and her brother— place the advantages and disadvantages fairly before her, and then let her decide for herself, without in the slightest degi-ee attempting to bias her. Will you promise to do this, Frank ? " "Must it indeed be so? can nothing be done? no scheme hit upon ? " returned I son-owf uUy. "Nothing of the kind must be attempted," replied Oaklands sternly : " could I obtain your sister's hand to-morrow by merely raising my finger, I would not do so while there remained a possi- bility of her preferring Lawless. Do you imagine that I could be content to be accepted out of compassion ? No," he added, more calmly, " the die will soon be cast; till then I will remain; and if, as I fear is only too certain, Lawless's suit is favourably received, I shall leave this place instantly— put it on the score of health— make Ellis order me abroad— the German baths, Madeii-a, Italy, I care not : aU places will be alike to me then." " And how miserable Sir John will be at this sudden determina- tion ! " returned I ; " and he is so happy now in seeing your health restored ! " " Ah ! this world is tmly termed a vale of tears," replied Hany mournfully, "and the trial hardest to beai' is the sight of the unhappiness we cause those we love. Strange that my acts seem always fated to bring sorrow upon my father's gray head, when I would willingly lay do^vm my life to shield him from suffering. But do not imagine that I wiU selfishly give way to grief— no ; as soon as Lawless is man-ied, I shall return to England and devote myself to my father ; my duty to him, and your friendship, will be the only interests that bind me to life." He paused, and then added, " Frank, you know me too well to fancy that I am exaggerating my feelings, or even deceiving myself as to the strength of them ; this is no sudden passion, my love for Fanny has been the growth of years, and the gentle kindness with which she attended on me during my illness— the affectionate tact (for I believe she loves me as a brother, though I have 'almost doubted even that of late) with which she forestalled my evei-y wish, proved to me how indispensable she has become to my happiness. But," he continued, seeing, I imagined, by the painful expression of my face, the effect his words were producing on me, " in my selfishness I am rendering 304 FRANK FAIRLEGH you unhappy. We will speak no more of this matter till my fate is certain; should it be that which I expect, let us forget that this conversation ever passed ; f , on the contrary. Lawless should meet with a refusal — but that is' an alternative I dare not contemplate. — And now, farewell." So saying, he wining my hand with a pressure that vouched for his returning strength, and left me. In spite of my walk, I had not much appetite for my breakfast that morning. CHAPTER XLV. HELPING A LAME DOG OVER A STILE. " Marry, I cannot show it in rhyme ; I have tried . . . No, I was not bom under a rhjTning planet; nor I cannot woo in festival terms."— if «c A Ado About yothing. " Now, let the verses be bad or good, it plainly amounts to a regular offer. I don't believe any of the lines are an inch too long or too short ; but if thev were it would be wicked to alter them, for they are really genuine." — rhtnkt I to My$elf. " We shall have a rare letter from him." — Twelfth Night. It was usually my custom of an afternoon to read law for a couple of hours, a course of training preparatory to committing myself to the tender mercies of a special pleader ; and as Sir John's well-stored library afforded me every facility for so doing, that was the venue I generally selected for my interviews with Messrs. Blackstone, Coke upon Lyttelton, and other legal luminaries. Accordingly, on the day in question, after having nearly quan-eUed with my mother for congratulating me warmly on the attainment of my wishes, when I mentioned to her Lawless's proposal, found fault with Fanny's Italian pronunciation so harshly as to bring tears into her eyes, and gi-ievously offended our old female domestic by disdainfully rejecting some pet abomination upon which she had decreed that I should lunch, I sallied forth, and, not wishing to encounter any of the family, entered the hall by a side-door, and reached the libraiy tmobserved. To my surprise I discovered Lawless (whom I did not recollect ever to have seen there before, he being not much given to literai-y pursuits) seated pen in hand, at the table, apparently absorbed in the mysteries of composition. " I shall not disturb you, Lawless," said I, taking down a book. " I am only going to read law for an houi- or two." "Eh! disturb me?" was the reply; "I'm uncommon glad to be disturbed, I can tell you, for hang me if I can make head or tail of FRANK FAIRLEGH 305 it ! Here have I been for tlie last three hours trying to write an offer to your sister, and actually have not contrived to make a fair start of it yet. I wish you would lend nie a hand, there's a good fellow— I know you are up to all the right dodges — just give one a sort of notion, eh ? don't you see ? " " What ! wi'ite an offer to my own sister ? Well, of all the quaint ideas I ever heard, that's the oddest — really you must excuse me." " Yeiy odd, is it? " inquired Coleman, opening the door in time to overhear the last sentence. " Pray let me hear about it, then, for I like to know of odd things particularly ; but perhaps I'm intniding." "Eh! no; come along here, Coleman," cried Lawless: "you are just the very boy I want — I am going to be maii-ied — that is, I want to be, don't you see, if she'll have me, but there's the rub ; Fi-ank Fairlegh is all right, and the old lady says she's agreeable, so every- thing depends on the yoimg woman herself — if she will but say ' Yes,' we shall go ahead in style ; but, unf oi*tunately, before she is likely to say anything one way or the other, you understand, I've got to pop the question, as they call it. Now, I've about as much notion of making an offer as a cow has of dancing la hornpipe — so I want you to help us a bit— eh ? " " Certainly," replied Freddy courteously ; " I shall be only too happy, and as delays are dangerous, I had perhaps better be of£ at once — where is the young lady ? " " Eh ! hold hard thei-e ! don't go quite so fast, young man," exclaimed Lawless, aghast ; " if you bolt [away at that pace you'll never see the end of the run ; why, you don't suppose I want you to go and talk to her — pop the (|uestion ' viva voce,' do you ? You'll be advising me to be manned by deputy, I suppose, next. No, no, I'm going to do the trick by letter — something like a valentine, only rather more so, eh ! but I can't exactly manage to wi-ite it properly. If it was but a wan-anty for a horse, now, I'd knock it off in no time, but this is a sort of thing, you see, I'm not used to ; one doesn't get manned as easily as one sells a horse, nor as often, eh ? and it's rather a nervous piece of business — a good deal depends upon the letter." " You've been trjdng your hand at it already, I see," obsei-ved Coleman, seating himself at the table ; " pretty consumption of paper ! I wonder what my governor would say to me if I were to set about drawing a deed in this style ; why, the stationer's bill would rim away with all the profits." " Never mind the profits, you avaricious Jew ! " replied Lawless. " Yes, I've been trying effects, as the painters call it — putting down two or three beginnings to find out which looked the most like the time of day — you understand ? " " Two or tlu-ee ? " repeated Coleman, " six or seven rather, ' voyons.' ' Mr. Lawless presents his affections to Miss Fairlegh, and requests the hon — ' Not a bad idea, an offer in the third person — the only case in which a third person would not be ' de trop ' in such an affair.' " Eh ! yes, I did the respectful when I first started, you know, but X 306 FRANK FAIRLEGH I soon dropped that sort of thing when I got warm ; you'll see, I stepped out no end aftei-wards." " ' Honoured Miss,' " eontinvied Coleman, reading,—" ' My senti- ments, that is, your perfections, your splendid action, your high breeding, and the many slap-up points that may be discenied in you by any man that has an eye for a horse — ' " " Ah ! that was where I spoiled it," sighed Lawless. " Here's a very pretty one," resumed Freddy. " ' Adorable and adored Miss Fanny Fairlegh,— Seeing you as I do with the eyes ' (Why, she wovild not think you saw her with your nose, would she ?) ' of fond affection, probably would induce me to overlook any un- soundness or disposition to vice — ' " " That one did not turn oxit civilly, you see," said Lawless, " or else it wasn't such a bad beginning." "Here's a better," rejoined Coleman. "'Exquisitely beautiful Fanny, fairest of that lovely sex which, to distinguish it from us rough and ready fox-hunters, who, when once we get our heads at any of the fences of life, go at it, never mind how stiff it nuiy be (matrimony has always appeared to me one of the stiffest), and generally contrive to find ourselves on the other side Avith our hind legs well under us ;— a sex, I say, which, to distinguish it from oui- own, is called the fair sex, a stock of which I never used to think any great things, reckoning them only fit to canter round the parks vnth, imtil I saw you brought out, when I at once perceived that your condition— that is, my feelings— were so inexpressible, that—' " " Ah ! " interposed Lawless, " that's where I got bogged, sank in over the fetlocks, and had to give it up as a bad job." " In fact, your feelings became too many for you," retunied Cole- man ; " but what have we here ?— verses, by all that's glorious ! " " No, no ! I'm not going to let you read them," exclaimed Lawless, attempting to wi-est the paper out of his hand. " Be quiet. Lawless," rejoined Coleman, holding him ofP, " sit down directly, sir, or I won't write a word for you : I must see what all your ideas are in order to get some notion of what you want to say ; besides, I've no doubt they'll be veiy original. I. " ' Sweet Fanny, there are moments When the heart is not one's own, When we fain would clip its wild wing's tip, But we find the bird has tlo>vn. ir. " ' Dear Fanny, there are moments When a loss may be a gain, And sorrow, joy — for the heart's a toj". And loving's such sweet pain. III. " ' Yes, Fanny, there are moments When a smile is worth a throne, When a frown can prove the power of love, Must fade, and die alone.' Why you never wrote those, Lawless ? " FRANK FAIRLEGH 307 "Didn't I?" returaed Lawless; "but I know I did, though- copied them out of an old book I found up there, and wrote some more to 'em, because I thought there wasn't enough for the money, besides putting in Fanny's name instead of— what do you think ?— Phillis '.—there's a name for you ; the fellow must have been a fool. Why, I woidd not give a dog such an ill name, for fear somebody should hang him; but go on." " Ah, now we come to the original matter," returned Coleman, " and very original it seems : IV. " ' Dear Fanny, there are moments When love gets you in a fix, Takes the bit in his jaws, and, without any pause. Bolts away with you like bricks. V. " ' Yes, Fanny, there are moments When affection knows no bounds, When I'd rather he talking with you out a-walking, Than rattling after the hounds. VI. " ' Dear Fanny, there are moments When one feels that one's inspired, And .... and . . . .' It does not seem to have been one of those moments with you just then," continued Freddy, " for the poem comes to an abinipt and untimely conclusion, rmless three blots, and something that looks like a horse's head, may be a hieroglyphic mode of recording your inspirations, which I'm not learned enough to decipher." " Eh ! no ; I broke down there," replied Lawless ; " the muse deserted me, and went olf in a canter for— where was it those young women used to hang out ?— the ' Gradus ad ' place, you know?" "The tuneful Nine, whom you barbarously designate yotmg women," returaed Coleman, " are popularly supposed to have resided on Mount Parnassus, which acclivity I have always imagined of a triangular or sugar-loaf form, with Apollo seated on the apex or extreme point, his attention divided between preserving his equili- brium and keeping up his playing, which latter necessity he provided for by executing difl&cult passages on a golden (or, more probably, silver-gilt) lyre." "Eh! nonsense," rejoined Lawless; "now, do be serious for five minutes, and go ahead with this letter, there's a good feUow ; for 'pon my word, I'm in a wretched state of mind— I am indeed. It's a fact, I'm nearly haK a stone lighter than I was when I came here ; I know I am, for there was an old fellow weighing a defunct pig down at the farm yesterday, and I made him let me get into the scales when he took piggy out. I teU you what, if I'm not mairied soon I shall make a job for the sexton ; such incessant wear and tear of the sensibilities is enough to kill a prize-fighter in full training, let alone a man that has been leading such a molly-coddle life as I have of late, loimging about drawing-rooms like a lapdog." 308 FRANK FAIRLEGH " Well, then, let us be^in at once," said Freddy, seizing a pen : " now, what am I to say ? " " Eh ! why, you don't expect me to know, do yon ? " exclaimed Lawless, aghast ; " I might just as well wi-ite it myself as have to tell you ; no, no, you must help me, or else I'd better give the whole thing up at once." " I'll help you, man, never fear," rejoined Freddy, " but you must give me something to work upon : why, it's all plain sailing enough ; begin by describing your feelings." " Feelings, eh ? " said Lawless, rubbing his ear violently, as if to arouse his dormant faculties, " that's easier said than done. Well, here goes for a start : ' My dear Miss Fairlegh.' " "'My dear Miss Fairlegh,'" repeated Coleman, writing rapidly, " yes." " Have you wi-itten that ? " continued Lawless ; " ar — let me think — ' I have felt for some time past very peculiar sensations, and have become, in many respects, quite an altered man.' " " ' Altered man,' " murmured Freddy, still ^Titing. " ' I have given up hunting,' " resumed Lawless, " ' which no longer possesses any interest in my eyes, though I think you'd have said, if you had been with us the last time we were out, that you never saw a prettier run in your life ; the meet was at Chorley Bottom, and we got away in less than ten minutes after the hounds had been in cover, with as plucky a fox as ever puzzled a pack — ' " " Hold hard there ! " inteiTupted Coleman, " I can't put all that in ; nobody ever wrote an account of a fox-hunt in a love-letter — no ; you've given up hunting, which no longer possessed any interest in your eyes ; now go on." "My! yes," repeated Lawless reflectively; "yes: 'I am become indifferent to everything; I take no pleasure in the new dog-cart King in Long Acre is building for me, with cane sides, the wheels larger, and the seat, if possible, still higher than the last, and which , if I am not vei*y much out in my reckoning, will follow so light — ' " " I can't wi'ite all that trash about a dog-cart," inteiTupted Freddy crossly ; " that's worse than t^e iox-hunting ; stick to your feelings, man, can't you ? " " Ah ! you little know the effect such feelings produce," sighed Lawless. " That's the style," resumed Coleman, with delight ; " that will come in beautifully — ' such feelings produce ; ' now go on." " ' At night my slumbers are rendered distracting, by visions of you — as — as — ' " " ' The bride of another,' " suggested Coleman. " Exactly," resumed Lawless ; " or, ' sleep refusing to visit my—' " " ' Aching eyeballs,' " put in Freddy. '■ ' I lie tossing restlessly from side to side, as if bitten by-'" FRANK FAIRLEGH 309 " ' The gnawing tooth of Remorse ; ' that will do famously," added his scribe ; " now tell her that she is the cause of it." " ' All these unpleasantnesses are owing to you,' " began Law- less. " Oh ! that won't do," said Coleman ; " no—' These tender griefs ' (that's the term, I think) 'are some of the effects, goods, and chattels ' — psha ! I was thinking of drawing a will — ' the effects produced upon me by — ' " " ' The wonderful way in which you stuck to your saddle when the mare bolted „ with you,'" rejoined Lawless enthusiastically; "what, won't that do either ? " "No, be quiet; I've got it all beautifully now, if you don't interrupt me : ' Tom- many perfections of mind and person— perfec- tions which have led me to centre my ideas of happiness solely in the fond hope of one day calling you my own.' " "■ That's very pretty indeed," said Lawless ; " go on." " ' Should I be fortunate enough,' " continued Coleman, " ' to succeed in winning your affection, it will be the study of my futm-e life to prevent your every wish — ' " " Eh 1 what do you mean ? not let her have her own way ? Oh 1 that will never pay ; why, the little I know of women, I'm sure that, if you want to come over them, you must flatter 'em up with the idea that you mean to give 'em their heads on all occasions — let 'em do just what they like. TeU a woman she should not go up the chimney, it's my belief you'd see her nose peep out of the top before ten minutes were over, Oh ! that'll never do ! " " Nonsense," interrupted Freddy ; " ' prevent ' means to forestall in that sense; however, I'U put it ' forestaU,' if you like it better." " I think it will be the safest," replied Lawless, shaking his head solemnly. " ' In everything your will shall be law,' " continued Coleman, wi-iting. " Oh ! I say, that's coming it rather strong, though," interposed Lawless ; " query about that ? " " All right," rejoined Coleman, " it's always customary to say so in these cases, but it means nothing ; as to the real question of mastery, that is a matter to be decided post-nuptially ; you'll be enlightened on the subject before long in a series of midnight discourses, commonly known under the title of curtain-lectures." " Pleasant, eh ? " returned Lawless ; " well, I bet two to one on the gi-ey mare, for I never could stand being preached to, and shall consent to anything for the sake of a quiet life— so move on." " ' If this offer of my heart and hand should be favourably received by the loveliest of her sex,' " continued Coleman, " ' a line, a word, a smile, a — ' " " ' Wink,' " suggested Lawless. " ' "Will be sufficient to acquaint me with my happiness.'" 310 FRANK FAIRLEGH '* Tell hei* to look sharp about sending an answer," exclaimed Lawless ; " if she keeps me waiting long after that letter's sent, I shall go off pop, like a bottle of giuger-beer ; I know I shall — string won't hold me, or wire either." " ' When once this letter is despatched, I shall enjoy no respite from the tortures of suspense till the answer arrives, which shall exalt to the highest pinnacle of happiness, or plunge into the lowest abysses of despair, one who lives but in the sunshine of your smile, and who now, Avith the liveliest affection, tempei-ed by the most profound respect, ventures to sign himself. Tour devotedly attached — ' " " ' And love-loni,' " interposed Lawless, in a sharp, quick tone. "Love-lorn," repeated Coleman, looking up with an air of surprise ; " sentimental and ridiculous in the extreme ! I shall not wi-ite any such thing." " I believe, Mr. Coleman, that letter is intended to express my feelings, and not yours ? " questioned Lawless, in a tone of stern investigation. " Yes, of course it is," began Coleman. " Then write as I desire, sir," continued Lawless authoritatively ; " I ought to know my own feelings best, I imagine; I feel love-lorn, and ' love-lorn ' it shall be." " Oh, certainly," replied Coleman, slightly offended, " anything you please, ' Your devotedly attached and love-lorn admirer ; ' hex'e, sign it yourself, ' George Lawless.' " " Bravo ! " said Lawless, relapsing into his accustomed good humour the moment the knotty point of the insertion of " love-lorn " had been carried; "if that isn't fii-st-rate, I'm a Dutchman; why, Treddy, boy, where did you learn it ? how does it all come into your head?" " Native talent," replied Coleman, " combined with a strong and lively appreciation of the sublime and beautiful, chiefly derived from my maternal grandmother, whose name was Burke." '■ That wasn't the Burke who -wTote a book about it, was it ? " asked Lawless. " Ah ! no, not exactly," replied Coleman ; " she would have been, I believe, had she been a man." " Yery likely," returned Lawless, whose attention was absorbed in folding, sealing, and directing the important letter, " ' Miss Fairlegh.' Now, if she does but regard my suit favourably." " You'll be suited with a wife," punned Coleman. " But suppose she should say ' No,' " continiied Lawless, musing. " Why, then you'll be non-suited, that's all," returned the incor- rigible Freddy ; and making a face at me, which (as I was to all appearance immersed fathoms deep in Blackstone) he thought I should not observe, he sauntered out of the room humming the following scrap of some elegant ditty, with which he had become acquainted : FRANK FAIRLEGH 311 " ' If ever I marry a wife, I'U marry a publican's daughter. I'll sit all day long in the bar, And drink nothing but brandy-and-water.' " Lawless having completed his aiTangements to his satisfaction, hastened to follow Coleman's example, nodding to me as he left the room, and adding, " Good-bye, Fairlegh ; read away, old boy, and when I see you again, I hope I shall have some good news for you." Good news for me ! The news that my sister would be pledged to spend her life as the companion, or, more properly speaking, the plaything, of a man who had so little delicacy of mind, so little self- respect, as to have allowed his feelings (for that he was attached to Panny, as far as he was capable of foiTuing a real attachment, I could not for a moment doubt) to be laid bare to form a subject for Freddy Coleman to sharpen his wit upon ; and to reflect that I had in any way assisted in bringing this result about, had thi'own them constantly together — oh ! as I thought upon it, the inconceivable folly of which I had been guilty nearly maddened me. Somehow, I had never until this moment actually realized the idea of my sister's mariying him ; even that night, when I had spoken to my mother on the subject, my motive had been more to prevent her from lecturing and won-ying Fanny than anything else. But the real cause of my indifference was that during the whole progress of the affair my thoughts and feelings had been so comiiletely engrossed by, and centred in, my own position in regard to Clara Saville, that although present in body my mind was in great measure absent. I had never given my attention to it ; but had gone on in a dreamy kind of way, letting affairs take their own course, and saying and doing whatever appeared most consonant to the wishes of other people at the moment, until the discovery of Oaklands' unhappy attachment had f iiUy aroused me, when, as it appeared, too late to remedy the misery which my carelessness and inattention had in a great measiu'e contributed to bring about. The only hope which now remained (and when I remembered the evident pleasure she took in his society, it appeared a very forloni one) was that Fanny might of her own accord refuse Lawless. By this time the precious document produced by the joint exertions of Lawless and Coleman must have reached its destination ; and it was with an anxiety little inferior to that of the piincipals them- selves that I looked forward to the result, and awaited with impatience the verdict which was to decide whether joy should brighten or soitow shade the futui'e years of Hai-ry Oaklands. 312 FRANK FAIRLEGH CHAPTER XLYI. TEARS AND SMILES. " Our doubts are traitors ; And make us lose the pood we oft might win. By fearing to attempt." Meature for ifeature. " ' Well, everyone can master g^rief but he that has it. " Yet say I he's in love." " The greatest note of it is his melancholy." " Nay, but I know who loves him." " Much Ado About Nothing. " Joy. gentle friends ! joy, and fresh days of love. Accompany your hearts." Midmimmer Night'$ Dream. Reading law did not get on very well that day. De Lolme on the- Constitution might have been a medical treatise, for aught I knew to the contrary— Blackstone a work on geology. After a prolonged struggle to compel my attention, from which I did not desist until I became suddenly aware that for the last half-hour I had been holding one of the above-named ornaments to the profession the wi-ong way upwards, I relinquished the matter as hopeless, and, pulling my hat over my brows, sallied forth, and turaed my moody steps in the direction of the cottage. Feeling imwilling in my then humour to encounter any of its inmates, I walked round to the back of the house, and throwing open the window of a small room, which was dignified by the name of the study, and dedicated to my sole use and behoof, I leapt in, and closing the sash, flimg myself into an easy- chair, where, again involuntarily resuming the same train of thought, I gave myself up a prey to unavailing regrets. On my way I had encountered Freddy Coleman going to shoot wild-fowl, and he had accosted me with the following agreeable remark : " Why,. Frank, old boy, you look as black as a crow at a funeral ; I can't think what ails you all to-day. I met Han-y Oaklands just now, seeming as much down in the mouth as if the bank had failed ; so I told him your sister was going to man-y Lawless, just to cheer him up a bit, and show him the world was all alive and men-y, when off he marched without saying a word, looking more grumpy than ever." " Why did you tell him what was not tnie ? " was my reply. " Oh ! for fun ; besides, you know, it may be true, for anything we can tell," was the unsatisfactory rejoinder. In order the better to enable the reader to understand what is to follow, I must make him acquainted with the exact locale of the den or stiidy to which I have just introduced him. Let him imagine. FRANK FAIRLEGH 313 then, a small but very pretty little drawing-room, opening into a conservatory of such minute dimensions that it was, in point of fact, little more than a closet with glazed sides and a skylight : this, again, opened into the study, from which it was divided by a green baize curtain ; consequently, it was very possible for anyone to over- hear in one room all that passed in the other, or even to hold a conversation with a person in the opposite apartment. Seeing, how- ever, was out of the question, as the end of a high stand of flowers intervened — purposely so placed, to enable me to lie " perdu " in the event of any visitors calling to whom I might be imwilling to reveal myself. On the present occasion, the possibility of anyone in the- drawing-room seeing me was wholly prechided by reason of the ciu'tain already mentioned being partially drawn. I had not remained long in thought when my reverie was disturbed by someone enteiing the outer room and closing the door. The peculiar rustle of a lady's dress informed me that the intnider was of the gentler sex ; and the sound of the footstep, so light as to be scarcely audible, could proceed from no other inmate of the cottage but Fanny. Even with the best intentions, one always feels a degree of shame in playing the eavesdropper ; a natural sense of honour seems to forbid us, luanoticed ourselves, to remark the actions of others ; yet so anxious was I, if possible, to gain some clue to the state of my sister's affections, that I could not resist the temptation of slightly changing my position, so that, concealed by a fold of the curtain, and peeping between two of the tallest camellias, I could command a view of the drawing-room. My ears had not deceived me ; on the sofa, up to which she had drawn a small wi-iting-table, was seated Fanny ; her elbow was supported by the table before her, and her head rested on one of her little white hands, which was hidden amid the luxin-iant tresses of her sunny hair. Her countenance, which was iKiler than usual, bore traces of tears. After remaining in this attitude for a few moments, motionless as a statue, she raised her head, and throwing back her curls from her face, opened the writing- case and wrote a him-ied note ; but her powers of composition appearing to fail her before she reached the conclusion, she paused, and, with a deep sigh, drew from a fold in her dress a letter, which I instantly recognized as the remarkable document produced by the joint talents of Lawless and Coleman. As she perused this original manuscript, a smile, called forth by the singular nature of its con- tents, played for an instant over her expressive features, but was instantly succeeded by an expression of annoyance and regi-et. At this moment a man's footstep sounded in the passage, and Fanny had scarcely time to conceal her letter ere the door was thrown open, and HaiTy Oaklands entered. The change of light was so great on first coming into the room out of the open air, that, not until the servant had withdrawn, after say- ing, " You will find Mr. Fairlegh in the study, sir," was Hany able 314. FRANK FAIRLEGH to perceive that, excepting himself, Fanny was the sole occupant of the apartment. " I hope I am not disturbing you," he began, after an awkward pause, during which his cheek had flushed, and then again grown pale as marble. " The servant told me I should find Frank here alone, and that you and Mrs. Fairlegh were out walking." " Mamma is gone to see the poor boy who broke his leg the other day ; but I had a little headache, and she would not let me go with her." " And Frank ? " " Frank went out soon after breakfast, and has not yet retui-ned ; I think he said he was going to the Hall— he wanted to find some book in the library, I fancy— I wonder you did not meet him." " I have not been at home since the morning ; my father can-ied me off to look at a farm he thinks of purchasing ; but, as Frank is out, I will not interrupt you longer ; I dare say I shall meet him in my way back. Good — good-moniing ! " So saying, he took up his hat, and turned abruptly to leave the room. Apparently, however, ere he reached the door, some thought came across him which induced him to relinquish this design, for he stood irresolutely for a moment, with the handle in his hand, and then returned, saying in a low voice, " No, I cannot do it !— Fanny," he continued, speaking rapidly, as if mistrusting his self-control, " I am going abroad to-morrow; we may not meet again for years, perhaps (for life and death are strangely intermingled) we may meet in this world no more. Since you were a child we have lived together like brother and sister, and I cannot leave you without saying good-bye— without expressing a fervent wish that in the lot you have chosen for yourself you may meet with all the happiness you anticipate, and which you so well deseiwe." " Going abroad ? " repeated Fanny mechanically, as if stunned by this unexpected intelligence. " Yes ; I start for the Continent early to-morrow morning : you know I am always alarmingly hasty in my movements," he added, with a faint attempt at a smile. " It must be on account of your health," exclaimed Fanny quickly. ■"Ah!" she continued, with a start, as a new and painful idea occun-ed to her, " the fearful leap you took to save me— the exertion was too much for you ; I knew— I felt at the time it would be so ; better, far better, had I perished in that dark river, than that you should have endangered your valuable life." " Indeed, it is not so, Fanny," replied Oaklands kindly, and, taking her hand, he led her to the sofa, for she trembled so violently it was evident she could scarcely stand ; " I am regaining strength daily, and Ellis will tell you that complete change of scene and air is the best thing for me." "Is that really aU P " inquired Fanny; "but why then go so suddenly ? Think of your father ; surely it wiU be a great shock to Sir John." FRANK FAIRLEGH 315 " I cannot stay liere," replied Haii-y imiDetuously ; " it would madden me." The look of sui-prise and alarm with which Fanny regarded him led him to perceive the error he had committed, and fearful of betraying himself, he added quickly, " Tou must make allowance for the morbid fancies of an invalid, proverbially the most capricious of all mortals. Six weeks ago I was in quite as great a huii-y to reach this place as I now am to get away fi'om it." He paused, sighed deeply, and then, with a degree of self-control for which I had scarcely given him credit, added, in a cheerful tone, *' But I will not thrust my gloomy imaginings upon you ; nothing dark or disagreeable should be permitted to cloud the fair prospect which to-day has opened before you. Tou must allow me," he con- tinued, in a calm voice, though the effort it cost him to preseiwe composure must have been extreme — "you must allow me the privilege of an old friend, and let me be the first to tell you how sincerely I hope that the rank and station which will one day be youi's — rank which you are so well fitted to adorn — may bring you all the happiness you imagine." " Happiness, rank, and station ! May I ask to what you refer, Mi*. Oaklands ? " replied Fanny, colouring crimson. " I maj' have been premature in my congi-atulations," replied he ; " I would not distress or annoy you for the world ; but imder the cir- cumstances — this being probably the only opportunity I may have of expressing the deep interest I must always feel in everything that relates to your happiness — I may sui-ely be excused ; I felt I could not leave you without telling you this." " You are laboui'ing imder some extraordinary delusion, Mr. Oak- lands," rejoined Fanny, tm-ning away her face, and speaking very quickly ; " pray let this subject be dropped." '* You trifle with me," replied Oaklands sternly, his self-control rapidly deserting him, " and you know not the depth of the feelings you are sporting with. Is it a delusion to believe that you are the affianced bride of George Lawless ? " As he spoke, Fanny turaed her soft blue eyes upon him with an expression which must have pierced him to the very soul — it was not an expi-ession of anger— it was not exactly one of sorrow; but it was a look in which wounded pride at his having for a moment believed such a thing possible, was blended with tender reproach for thus misunderstanding her. The former feeling, however, was alone dis- tinguishable, as, drawing herself up with an air of quiet dignity, which gave a character of severity to her pretty little features of which I could scarcely have believed them capable, she replied, " Since Mr. Lawless has not had sufficient delicacy to presei-ve his own secret, it is useless for me to attempt to do so ; therefore, as you are aware that he has done me the honoxu* of offering me his hand, in justice to myself I now infoiTQ you that it is an honoui- which I have dechned, and, with it, all chance of attaining that ' rank and station ' on which you imagined I had placed my hopes of happiness. 316 FRANK FAIRLEGH You will, perhaps, excuse me," she added, rising to leave the room ; " these events have annoyed and ag'itated me much." " Stay ! " exclaimed Oaklands, springing up impetuously, " Fanny, for Heaven's sake, wait one moment. Am I dreaming ? or did I hear you say that you had refused Lawless ? " " I have already told you that it is so," she replied ; " pray let me pass ; you are presuming on your privileges as an old friend." " Bear with me for one moment," pleaded Oaklands, in a voice scarcely audible from emotion. " You have not refused him out of any mistaken notions of generosity arising from difference of station ? In a word — for I must speak plainly, though at the risk of distressing you — do you love him ? " "Really — " began Fanny, again attempting to quit the room, and turning first red, then pale, as Oaklands still held his position between her and the door. " Oh ! pardon me," he continued in the same broken voice, " deem me presuming — mad — what you will ; but as you hope for happiness here or hereafter, answer me this one question — Do you love him ? " " No, I do not," replied Fanny, completely subdued by the violence of his emotion. " Thank God ! " murmured Oaklands, and sinking into a chair, the strong man, overcome by this sudden revulsion of feeling, buried his face in his hands and wept like a child. There is no sight so affect- ing as that of manhood's tears. It seems natural for a wonxan's feelings to find vent in weeping ; and though all our sympathies are enlisted in her behalf, we deem it an April shower, which we hope to see ere long give place to the simshine of a smile ; but tears are foreign to the sterner nature of man, and any emotion powerful enough to call them forth indicates a depth and intensity of feeling which, like the sirocco of the desert, carries all before it in its resist- less fury. Fanny must have been more than woman if she could have remained an immoved spectator of Harry Oaklands' agitation. Apparently relinquishing her intention of quitting the room, she stood with her hands clasped, regarding him with a look of mixed interest and alarm ; but as his broad chest rose and fell, convulsed by the sobs he in vain endeavoured to repress, she drew nearer to him, exclaiming, — " Mr. Oaklands, are you ill ? Shall I ring for a glass of water ? " Then, finding he was unable to answer her, completely overcome, she continued, " Oh ! what is all this ? what have I said ? what have I done ? Harry, speak to me ; tell me, are you angry with me ? " and laying her hand gently on his shoulder, she gazed up in his face with a look of the most piteous entreaty. Her light touch seemed to recall him to himself, and uncovering his face, he made a strong effort to regain composure, which, after a moment or two, appeared attended with success ; and taking her hand between his own, he said, with a faint smile, — " I have frightened you— have I not ? The last time I shed tears FRANK FAIRLEGH 317 was at my motlier's funeral, and I had never thonglit to weep again ; but what pain of body and anguish of mind were powerless to accomplish, joy has effected in an instant. This must all seem very strange to you. dear Fanny : even I myself am surprised at the depth and vehemence of my own feelings ; but if you knew the agony of mind I have undergone since the night of that hateful charade — Fanny, did it never occiu' to you that I loved you with a love different to that of a brother ? " As she made no reply, merely turning away her head, while a blush, faint as the earliest glance of young-eyed Morning, mantled on her cheek, he continued, " Tes, Fanny, I have known and loved you from childhood, and your affection has become, unconsciously as it were, one of the strongest ties that render life dear to me ; still, I frankly confess that till the idea of your loving another occurred to me, I was blind to the nature of my own affection. To be with you, to see and talk to you daily, to cultivate yoiu' talents, to lead you to admire the beauties that I admired, to take interest in the pursuits which interested me, was happiness enough — I wished for nothing more. Then came that business of the duel, and the affectionate kindness ^vith which you forestalled my eveiTr wish ; the delicate tenderness and ready tact which enabled you to be more than a daughter— a guardian angel — to my father, in the days of his heavy soitow — soiTOw which my ungovemed passions had brought upon his gray head — all these things endeared you to me still more. Next followed a period of estrangement and separation, during which, as I now see, an undefined craving for your society preyed upon my spirits, and, as I verily believe, retarded my recovery. Hence, the moment I felt the slightest symptoms of returning health, my determination to revisit Heathfield. "When we again met, I fancied you were ill and out of spirits." "It was no fancy," murmured Fanny, in a low voice, as though thinking aloud. " Indeed ! " questioned Harry ; " and will you not tell me the cause ? " " Presently ; I did not mean to speak — to interrupt you." " My sole wish and occupation," he continued, " was to endeavour to interest and amuse you, and to restore your cheerfulness, which I believe the anxiety and fatigue occasioned by my illness to have banished ; and I flattered myself I was in some degree succeeding, when Lawless's arrival, and his openly professed admiration of you, seemed to change the whole current of my thoughts — nay, my very nature itself. I became sullen and morose ; and the feeling of dislike with which I beheld Lawless's attentions tojyou gradually strengthened to a deep and settled hatred ; it was only by exercising the most unceasing watchfulness and self-control that I refrained from quarrelling with him ; but so engi-ossed was I by the painful interest I felt in all that was passing around me, that I never gave myself time to analyze my feelings ; and it was not until the night of the 318 FRANK FAIRLEGH charade that I became fully aware of their true character ; it was not till then I learned that happiness could not exist for me unless you shared it. Conceive my wretchedness when, at the very moment in which this conviction first da\vned upon me. I saw from Lawless's manner that in his attentions to you he was evidently in earnest, and that, as far as I could judge, you were disposed to receive those attentions favourably. My mind was instantly made up ; I only waited till events should prove whether my suspicions were coiTect, and in case of their turning out so, feeling utterly unfit to endure the sight of Lawless's happiness, determined immediately to start for the Continent. Frank, who, taxing me with my wretched looks, elicited from me an avowal of the truth, told me Lawless was about to make yoii an offer ; Coleman (probal>ly in jest, but it chimed in too well with my own fears for me to dream of doubting him), that it had been accepted. The rest you know. And now, Fanny," he continued, his voice again trembling from the excess of his anxiety, " if you feel that you can never bring yourself to look upon me in any other light than as a brother, I will adhere to my determination of leaving England, and trust to time to reconcile me to my fate ; but if, by waiting months, nay years, 1 may hope one day to call you my own, gladly will I do so — gladly will I submit to any conditions you may impose. My happiness is in your hands. Tell me. dear Fanny, must I go abroad to-mon-ow ? " And what do you suppose she told him, reader ? That he must go ? Miss Martineau would have highly appi'oved of her doing so ; so would the late Poor-law Commissioners, and so would many a modem Di-aco, who, with the life-blood that should have gone to warm his own stony heart, scribbles a code to cnish the kindly affections and genial home sympathies of his fellow-men. But Fanny was no female philosopher ; she was only a pure, true-hearted, trustful, loving woman ; and so she gave him to understand that he need not set out on his travels, thereby losing a fine opportunity of " regenerating society," and i-indicating the dignity of her sex. And this was not all she told him, either ; for, having by his generous frankness won her confidence, he succeeded in gaining from her the secret of her heart — a secret which, an hour before, she would have braved death in its most hon-ible form rather than reveal. And then her happy lover learned how her affection for him, springing up in the pleasant days of childhood, had grown with her growth, and strengthened with her strength ; until it became a deep and all- absorbing passion — the great reality of her spirit life ; for love such as hers, outstripping the boimds of time, links itself even with our hopes beyond the grave ;— how, when he lay stretched upon the bed of suffering, oscillating between life and death, the bitter anguish that the thought of separation occasioned her, enlightened her as to the true nature of her feelings ; how, as his recovery progressed, to watch over him, and miuister to his comfort, was happiness beyond expression to her; — how, when he left the cottage, everything FRANK FAIRLEGH 319 seemed changed and dark, and a gulf appeared to have interposed between them, which she deemed impassable ; — how, in the struggle to conceal, and, if possible, conquer her attachment, she studiously avoided all intercoui-se with him, and how the struggle ended in the loss of health and spirits ; — how, during his absence, she felt it a duty still to bear up against these feelings of despair, and to endure her sad lot with patient resignation, and succeeded in some degi'ee, till his return once again rendered all her efforts fruitless ; — and how she then avoided him more studiously than before, although she saw, and soiTOwed over, the evident pain her altered manner caused him ; — how, always fearing lest he should question her as to her changed behaviour, and by word or sign she should betray the deep interest she felt in him, she had gladly availed herself of Lawless's attentions as a means of avoiding Harry's kind attempts to amuse and occupy her — attempts which, at the vei*y moment she was wounding him by rejecting them, only rendered him yet dearer to her ; — and how she had gone on, thinking only of Hany and herself, until Lawless's offer had broiight her unhappiness to a climax, by adding self-reproach to her other sources of unhappiness. All this, and much more, did she relate ; for if her coral lips did not frame every syllable, her tell-tale blushes filled up the gaps most eloquently. And Harry Oaklands ? — "Well, he did nothing desperate ; but after his first transports had subsided into a more deep and tranquil joy, he sat, with her little white hand clasped in his own, and looked into her loving eyes, and for one bright half hour two of the wanderers in this vale of tears were perfectly and entirely happy. CHAPTER XL VII. A CURE FOR THE HEARTACHE. " Taste your legs, sir ; put them to motion." " This is a practice as full of labour as a wise man's art." Twelfth Night. " Come, will you go with me ? " " Whither ? " " Even to the next willow — about your own business. What fashion will you wear the garland of ? about your neck like a usurer's chain, or under your arm like a lieutenant's scarf ? You must wear it some way ! " — Much Ado About Nothing. Yes ! they were very happy, Fanny and Oaklands, as they revelled in the bright certainty of their mutual love, and entranced by the absorbing contemplation of their new-found happiness , forgot in the sunshine of each other's presence the flight of moments, whilst I, 520 FRANK FAIRLEGH involuntarily contrastinfr the fair prospects that lay open before them with the dark cloudland of my own fjloomy fortunes, had soon traversed in thought the distance to Barstone Priory, and become immersed in fruitless speculations as to what might eventually be the result of Mr. Vernor's sordid and ciiiel jjolicy. It was now longer than usual since I had heard from Clara ; suspense and impatience were rapidly increasing into the most painful anxiety, and I had all but determined, if the next day's post brought no relief, to disobey her injimctions to the contrary, and once again make an attempt to see her. Oh ! it is hard to be banished from the presence of those we love — with an air attuned to the gentle music of some well- remembered voice, to be forced to listen to the cold, unmeaning commonplaces of society — with the heart and mind engrossed by, and centred on, one dear object, to live in a strange, unreal fellow- ship with those around us, talking, moving, and acting mechanically — feeling, as it were, but the outward form and shadow of one's self, living two distinct and separate existences, present, indeed, in body, but in the only tiiie vitality — the life of the spirit — utterly and com- pletely absent. From reflections such as these, I was aroused by observing the deepening shades of evening, which wei'e fast merging into night ; and collecting my ideas, I remembered that there were many things which must be said and done in consequence of the unexpected tirni events had taken. No human being is so completely isolated that his actions do not in some degi-ee affect others, and in the present instance this was peculiarly the case. Sir John and my mother must be let into the secret, and poor Lawless must learn the unsuccessful termination of his suit. But now, for the first time, the somewhat equivocal situation in which chance had placed me, pre- sented itseK to my mind, and I felt a degree of embaiTassment, almost amounting to shame, at having to make my appearance, and confess that I had been lying " perdu " diu-ing the whole of the pre- ceding scene. Accident, however, stood my friend. " I wonder where Frank is all this time ! " exclaimed Harry, in reply to a i-emark of Fanny's referring to the lateness of the hour ; " I want to see him, and tell him of my happiness ; I made him almost as misei-able as myself this morning ; he must be at the Hall, I suppose, but I'm sure your servant told me he was at home." " She only spoke the ti-uth if she did," said I, entering the drawing- room as if nothing unusual had occuiTcd. Fanny started up with a slight shi-iek, and then, glancing at uie with a countenance in which smiles and tears were strangely com- mingled, ran out of the room to hide her confusion, while Harry Oaklands— well, I hardly know what Harry did, but I have some vague idea that he hugged me, for I recollect feeling a degree of oppression on my breath, and an unpleasant sensation in my arms, for the next five minutes. " So you have heard it all, you villain, have you ? " he exclaimed, as FRANK FAIRLEGH 321 soon as his first transports had a little subsided. " Oh, Frank ! my dear old fellow, I am so happy ! But what a blind idiot I have been ! " "All's well that ends well," replied I, shaking him warmly by the hand ; " they say lookers-on see most of the game, but in this case I was as blind as you were ; it never for a moment occurred to me that Panny cared for you otherwise than as a sister. Indeed, I have sometimes been annoyed that she did not, as I considered, properly appreciate you ; but I understand it aU now, and am only too glad that her pale looks and low spirits can be so satisfactorily accounted for." " Frank," observed Oaklands gravely, " there is only one thing which casts the slightest shade over my happiness ; how are we to break this tolLawless ? I can afford to pity him now, poor fellow ! I know by my own feelings the pang that hearing of a rival's success will cost him." " I don't think his feelings are quite as deep and as intense as yours, Harry," replied I, smiling involuntarily at my reminiscences of the moi-ning ; " but I am afraid he will be terribly cut up about it ; he ■was most unfortunately sanguine : I suppose I had better break it to him." " Yes, and as soon as possible too," said Oaklands, "for I'm sure my manner will betray my happiness. I am the worst hand in the world at dissimulation. Walk back with me and tell him, and then stay and dine with us." " Agreed," replied I ; " only let me say half a dozen words to my mother ; " and inishing upstairs, I dashed into her room, told her the whole matter on the spot, incoherently, and without the slightest preparation, whereby I set her crying violently, to make up for which I kissed her abi-uptly (getting very wet in so doing), pulled down the bell-rope in obedience to the dictates of a sudden inspira- tion that she would be the better for a maid-servant, and left her in one of the most feai-ful states of confusion on record, flurried into a condition of nerves which set camphor-julep completely at defiance, and rendered trust in sal volatile a very high act of faith indeed. While Oaklands and I were walking up to the Hall, we overtook Coleman returning from shooting wild-fowl. As we came up with liim, Oaklands seized him by the shovdder, exclaiming, — " Well, Freddy, what sport, eh ?" " My dear Oaklands," returned he gravely, removing Harry's hand as he spoke, " that is a very bad habit of youi's, and one which I advise you to get rid of as soon as possible ; nobody who had ever endm-ed one of your friendly grips could say with truth that you hadn't a vice about you." " For which vile pun it would sei-ve you right to repeat the dose," replied Oaklands, " only that I'm not in a vindictive mood at present." " Then you mitst have passed the afternoon in some vei-y mollify- ing atmosphere," returaed Freddy, " for when I met you three hours T 322 FRANK FAIRLEGH a^o, you seemed as if you could have cut anybody's throat with the gi-eatest satisfaction." The conscious half-couwh, half -laugh, with which Oaklands acknow- ledged this sally, attracted Coleman's attention, and mimicking the sound, he continued, " A — ha— hem ! and what may that mean ? I say, there's some mysteiy going on here from which I'm excluded — that's not fair, though, you know. Come, be a little more transparent ; give me a peep into the hidden recesses of your magnanimous mind ; unclasp the richly-bound volume of your secret soul ; elevate me to the altitude of the Indian herb, or, in plain slang — Young England's chosen dialect — ' make me up to snuff.' " " May I enlighten him ? " asked I. " Tes, to be sure," replied Oaklands ; " I'll go on. for I am anxious to speak to my father. Freddy, old boy ! shake hands ; I'm the happiest fellow in existence ! " so saying, he seized and wrung Cole- man's hand with a heartiness which elicited sundry grotesque con- tortions, indicative of agony, from that individual, and, bounding forward, was soon lost to s^'ght in the deepening twilight. " And so, you see," continued I. after having impai-ted to Coleman as much as I considered necessai-y of the state of affaii-s, a con- fidence which he received with mingled exclamations of surprise and delight—" and so, you see, we've not only got to tell Lawless that he is refused, poor fellow ! but that Fanny has accepted Oaklands ; very awkward, isn't it ? " " It would be with anybody else," replied Coleman ; " biit I think there are ways and means of managing the thing which will prevent any very desperate consequences in the present instance ; sundry ideas occur to me ; would you mind my being in the room when you tell him?" " As far as I am concerned, I should be only too glad to have you," returned I, " if you do not think it would annoy him." " I'm not afraid of that," was the rejoinder; " as I wrote the offer for him, it strikes me I'm the very person he ought to select for his confidant." " Do you think," he added, after a moment's thought, " Harry woiild sell those phaeton horses ?" " That's the line of argument you intend to bring forward by way of consolation, is it ? Well, it is not such a bad notion," replied I ; " but don't be too sure of success, ' Equo ne credite Teucri ; ' I doubt its being in the power of horse-flesh to carry such a weight of dis- appointment as I fear this news will occasion him." " Well, I've other schemes to fall back upon if this should fail," returned Freddy ; " and now let us get on, for the sooner we put him out of his misery the better." " Where's the master ? " inquired I, encountering Shrimp as we crossed the hall. " He's upstairs, sir ; in his own room, sir ; a-going it like bricks, if you please, sii- ; you can hear him down here, gents." FRANK FAIRLEGH 323 " Stop a minute — listen ! " said Coleman ; " I can hear him now." As he spoke, the soimd of someone I'unning quickly in the room overhead was distinctly audible ; then came a scuffling noise, and then a hea\'yish fall. " What's he doing ? " asked Coleman. " He's a-trainin' of hisself for some match as must be a-coming off, sir ; leastways, so I take it ; he's been a-going on like that for the last hour and a quarter, and wery well he's lasted out, I say ; he'll be safe to win, don't you think, gents ? " " Out of the way, you imp ! "exclaimed Coleman, seizing Shrimp by the collar, and swinging him half across the hall, where, cat-like, he fell upon his legs, and walked off, looking deeply insulted. " I can't make out what he can be doing," continued Freddy. " Come along ! " So saying, he sprang up the staircase, two steps at a time, an example which I hastened to imitate. " Come in ! " cried the voice of Lawless, as Coleman rapped at the door ; and anxious to discover the occasion of the sounds which had reached our ears in the hall, we lost no time in obeying the summons. On entering the apartment, a somewhat sing\ilar sjjectacle greeted our sight. All the furniture of the room, which was a tolerably large one, was piled on two lines on either side, so as to leave a clear course along the middle ; in the centre of the space thus formed were placed two chairs about a yard apart, and across the backs of these was laid the joint of a fishing-rod. As we entered. Lawless — who was without shoes, coat, or waistcoat — exclaiming, " Wait a minute, I've just done it " — started from one end of the room, and, running up to the chairs in the centi-e, leaped over the fishing-rod. " Ninety-nine! " he continued; then, proceed- ing to the other end, he again ran up to and sprang over the barrier, shouting as he did so, in a tone of triumph, " A hundi-ed ! " and dragging an easy-chair out of the chaotic heap of furniture, he flung himself into it to all appearance utterly exhausted. '■ Why, Lawless, man ! " cried Freddy, " what are you doing ? Have you taken leave of your senses all of a sudden ? " " Eh ! I believe I should have, if I had not hit upon that dodge for keeping myself quiet." " A somewhat Irish way of keeping quiet," returned Freddy ; " why, the perspiration is pouring down your face — you look regularly used up." " Well, I am pretty nearly done brown — rather baked than other- wise." replied Lawless ; " let me tell you, it's no joke to jump five hundred times over a stick three feet high or more." " And why, in the name of all that's absurd, have you been doing it, then ? " " Eh! why, you see, after I had sent our letter, I got into such a dreadful state of impatience and worry, I didn't know what to do with myself ; I could not sit still at any price, and, first of all, I thought I'd have a good gallop, but I declare to you I felt so reckless and 324 FRANK FAIRLEr.H desperate, that I fancied I Bhould ^jo and break my n.»ck ; well, then it Ofcurred to nie to jtimp over that stick till I had tirnd luyHolf out — five hundred times have I done it. and a pretty stiff job it waa, too. And now, what news have you got for me, Frank I* " " My dear Lawless." said I, laying my hand on his shoulder, " you must prepare for a disapf)ointment." " There, that will do," interrupted Lawless ; " a« to preparation, if my last hour's work is not preparation enouyh for anythinir. it's a pity. What ! she'll have nothing? to say to me at any price, eh ? " " Why, you see, we have all been lalwurinff under a deluBion," I be^an. *' I have, under a most precious one," continued Lawless—" ref(n- larly put my foot in it — made a complete ass of myself — eh! don't you see ? Well. I'm not Koincr to break my heayt about it after all ; it's only a woman, and it's my opinion jx^ople set ahiis'her price u|>on those cattle than tliey are worth — they are a shyinjf, Hkittish breed, the best of them." " That's the lijjht to take it in." exclaimed Coleman, cominjf for- ward; "if one woman says ' No,' there are a hundred others will say * Yes ' ; and. after all. it's an open question whether a man's not better off without 'em." "Eh! Freddy lx)y, our fine letter's been no go — turned out a regular sell, you see, eh P " " Well, that only proves the young lady's want of tiiate." replied Colenum ; " but we had not exactly a fair start. You have more to hear about it yet ; the article you wished for was gone already — the damsel had not a heart to bestow. Tell him how it was, Fi-ank." Thus urged, I gave a hurried outline of the affair as it really stood, dwelling much on the fact that Oaklands and Fanny had l^ecome attached in bygone years, long ere she had ever seen Lawless — which I hoped might afford some slight consolation to his wounded self- love. As I concluded, he exclaimed : " So Fanny's going to marry Hany Oaklands — that's the long and short of it all. Well, I'm un- commonly glad to hear it — almost as glad as if I was going to marry her myself: there is not a better fellow in the world than HaiTy, though he has not regarded me with the most friendly looks of late. I was beginning not to like it. I can tell you, and meant to ask him why he did it ; but I understand it all now. What a bore I must have been to them both ! I declare I'm quite soiTy ; why, I would not have done it for any money, if I'd been up to the move sooner. Oh ! I must tell Harry." " You certainly are the most good-natured fellow breathing, Law- less," said I. " Eh ! yes, take me in the right way, I am quiet enough, a child may guide me with a snaffle ; but stick a sharp bit in my mouth, and tickle my sides with the rowels, and I rear up before, and lash out behind, so that it would puzzle half the rough-riders in the country to back me. I always mean to go ahead straight enough if I can see FRANK FAIRLEGH 825 my way clearly before me, but it's aw kward driving when one gets among women, with their feelings, and sympathies, and all that style of ai-ticle. I'm not used to it, you see, so no wonder if I run foul of their sensibilities and sentimentalities, and capsize a few of them. I've got pretty well knocked over myself, though, this time. Mis- fortunes never come alone too, they say ; and I've just had a letter from Leatherly to tell me Spiteful got loose when the groom was leading him out to exercise, and ti-ying to leap a fence, staked himself BO severely that they were obliged to have him shot. I refused eighty guineas for him from Durham of the Guards only a month ago ; I shall have my new tandem cart home, and no horses to run in it." " How well those chestnuts would look tandem ! " observed Cole- man carelessly ; " I wonder whether Han-y would sell them ? " " By Jove ; I shouldn't like to ask him," exclaimed Lawless quickly; " it is too much to expect of any man." " Oh ! as to that," replied Coleman, " I daresay I could contrive to to find it out, without exactly asking him to sell them." " My dear fellow, if you would, I should be so much obliged to you," replied Lawless eagerly ; " if I could but get those horses to start the new cart with, I'shovddbe as happy as a king— that is." he continued, checking himself, "I might become so; time, don't you see, resigna- tion, and all that sort of thing— heigh-ho 1— By the way, how far is it from dinner ? for jumping over those confounded chairs has made me uncommonly peckish, I can tell you." " He'll do," said Coleman, as we separated to prepare for dinner. It was easy to see by Sir John's beaming face, and the hearty squeeze he gave my hand when I entered the drawing-room, that Harry would not have to fear much opposition to his wishes on the part of his father. The dinner passed off pleasantly enough, though even when the meal was concluded, and the sei-vants had left the room, no allusion was made (out of delicacy to Lawless) to the subject which engrossed the thoughts of many of the party. As soon, however, as the wine had gone the round of the table. Lawless ex- claimed : ■' Gentlemen ! are you all charged ? " and receiving affirma- tory looks from the company in general, he continued, " Then I beg to propose a toast, which you must drink as such a toast ought to be drunk, ' con amore.' Gentlemen, I rise to propose the health of the happy couple that is to be." " Umph ! eh ! what ?— what are you talking about, sir— what are you talking about ? " inquired Mr. Frampton, hastily setting down his wine untasted, and speaking quickly, and with much excitement. " Do you see that?" whispered Lawless, nudging me, "he's off on a false scent ; he never could bear the idea of my mari-ying Fanny, he as good as told me so one day ; now be quiet, and I'll get a rise out of him." He then continued, addressing Mr. Frampton: "You're getting a little hard of hearing, I'm afraid, sir ; I was proposing the health of a certain happy couple, or. rather, of two people who will, I 326 FRANK FAIRLEGH hope, become so, in the common acceptation of the term, before very lonfT." " Umph ! I heard what you said, sir, plain enough (wish I hadn't), and I suijpose I can guess what you mean. I'm a plain-spoken man. sir, and 1 tell you honestly I don't like the thinj,', and I don't approve of the thing — I never have, and so once for all — I — umph ! I won't drink your toast, sir, that's flat. Umph ! umph ! " " Well," said Lawless, making a sign to Han*y not to speak, "you are a privileged person, you know ; and if Sir John and my friend Han-y here don't object to your refusing the toast, it's not for me to take any notice of it ; but I must say. considering the lady is the sister of your especial favourite, Frank Fairlegh, and the gentleman one whom you have known from boyhood, I tiike it as particularly unkind of you, Mr. Frampton, not even to wish them well." "Eh! umph! it isn't that, boy— it isn't that," returned Mr. Frampton, evidently taken aback by this appeal to his kindly feeling. " But, j'ou see," he added, turning to Sir John, " the thing is foolish altogether, they are not at all suited to each other ; and instead of being happy, as they fancy, they'll make each other miserable : the boy's a very good boy in his way. kind-hearted and all that, but tnith is truth, and he's no more fit to marry Fanny Fairlegh than I am." " Sorry I can't agiee with you. Mr. Frampton," replied Sir John Oaklands, drawing himself up stiffly ; " I thank Mr. Lawless most heartily for his toast, and drink it without a moment's hesitation. Here's to the health of the young couple ! " " Well, I see you are all against me," exclaimed Mr. Frampton, " and I don't like to seem unkind. They say marriages are made in heaven, so 1 suppose it must be all right. Here's the health of the happy couple, Mr. Lawless and Miss Fairlegh ! " It was now Lawless's turn to look out of countenance, and for a moment he did appear thoroughly disconcerted, more especially as it was next to impossible to repress a smile, and Freddy Coleman grinned outright ; quickly recovering himself, however, he resumed, " Laugh away, Freddy, laugh away, it only sei-ves me right for playing such a trick. I've been deceiving you, Mr. Frampton ; Miss Fairlegh is indeed going to be mai-ried, but she has had the good taste to choose a fitter bridegroom than she would have found in Buch a hai'um-scarum fellow as I am. So here's a long life, and a merry one, to Fanny Fairlegh and Harry Oaklands; you won't refuse that toast, I dare say ? " " Umph ! Harry Oaklands ! " exclaimed Mr. Frampton aghast ; " and I've been telling Sir John he wasn't good enough for Frank's sister— just like me, umph ! " " My dear Lawless," said Harry, taking a seat next the person he addressed, which movement he accomplished during an immense row occasioned by Mr. Frampton. who was grunting forth a mixed monologue of explanations and apologies to Sir John, by whom they FRANK FAIRLEGH 327 Tvere received with such a hearty fit of laughing that the tears ran down his cheeks — " My dear Lawless, the kind and generous way in which you take this matter makes me feel quite ashamed of my beha\nour to you lately, but I think, if you knew how miserable I have been, you would forgive me." " Forgive you ! eh ? " returned Lawless ; " ay, a precious deal sooner than I can forgive myself for coming here and making you all uncomfortable. Nobody but such a thick-headed ass as I am would have gone on all this time without seeing how the game stood. I hate to spoil sport ; if I had had the slightest idea of the tinith, I'd have been off out of your way long ago." " Tou are a noble fellow ! " exclaimed Harry, " and your friendship is a thing to be proud of. If there is any way in which I can testify my strong sense of gratitude, only name it." " I'll tell you," said Coleman, who had caught the last few words — " 1*11 tell you what to do to make him all right : sell him your chestnuts." " The phaeton horses ? " replied HaiTy. " No, I won't sell them." " Ah ! I thought he would not," mm'mured Lawless ; " it was too much to expect of any man." " But," continued Oaklands, " I am sure my father wiU join me in saying that if Lawless vnU do us the favour of accepting them, nothing would give us greater pleasure than to see them in the possession of one who will appreciate their perfections as they deserve." " Nay, they are your property, HaiTy," returned Sir John ; " I shall be delighted if your friend will accept them, but the present is all your own." ■' Eh ! give 'em me, all free gratis and for nothing ! " exclaimed Lawless, overpowered at the idea of such munificence. " Why, you'll go and ruin yourself — Queen's Bench, whitewash, and all the rest of it ! Recollect, you'll have a wife to keep soon, and that isn't done for nothing, they tell me — pin-money, ruination-shops, diamonds, kid gloves, and bonnet-ribbons — that's the way to circulate the tin ; there are some losses that may be gains, eh ? When one comes to think of all these things, it strikes me I'm well out of it, eh, Mr. Frampton ? — Mind you, I don't think that really," he added aside to me, " only I want HaiTy to fancy I don't care two straws about it ; he's such a feeling fellow, is Han-y, he would not be properly jolly if he thought I took it to heart much." " Umph ! if those are yoiu* ideas about matrimony, sir," growled Mr. Frampton, " I think you are quite right to leave it alone — puppy- dogs have no business with wives." " Now, don't be grumpy, governor," returned Lawless, " when you've had your own way about the toast and all. Take another glass of that old port, that's the stuff that makes your hair curl and look so pretty " (Mr. Frampton's cheveliu-e was to be likened only to a gray scrubbing-bnish) ; " we'll send for the new dog-cart 828 FRANK FATRLEGH to-iuorrow, and you sluiU be the first man to ride l^ehind the chestnuts.'' " Thimk ye kindly, I'll take your advice at all events." replied Mr. Franipton. helpine himself to a grlass of port ; '* and as to your offer, why. I'll transfer that to him " (indicatinj? Coleman), " ' funny boy.* as I used to call him. when he was a boy, and he doesn't seem much altered in that particuliu- now. Umph ! " This, as was intended, elicited a repartee from Coleman, and the eveninsT passed away merrily, althouffh I could perceive, in spite of his attempts to seem gay, that poor Lawless felt the destruction of his hopes deeply. On my return to the cottaisre, the servant informed me that a man had l>een there who wished very particularly to see me ; that she had offered to send for me, but that he had professed himself unable to wait. " What kind of looking person was he ? " inquired I. " He was an oldish man. sir ; very tall and thin, with jrray hair ; and he rode a little roujjh pony." " Did he leave no note or message ? " " He left this note, sir." Hastily seizing it. I locked myself into my own room, and tearinir open the paper, read as follows : — " Honom-ed Sir, — In case I should not see you. has my time wall be short. I takes the liburty of wi-itin' a line, and ham appy to hinform you. as things seem to me awl a-goin' wrong, leivstways I think you'll say so when you ears my tail. Muster Richiird's been back above a week, and he ;ind the Old Un is up to their same tricks again ; but that ain't awl — there's a black-haired pale chap cum with a heye like a nork. lis seems to me the baddest of the lot. and that ain't sayin' a little. But there's worse news yet. for I'm afraid we ain't only got to contend hagaiust the henemy, but there's a traytur in the camp. and that in a quarter where you cares most. Meet me to-morrow morain" at the old place at seven o'clock, when you shall ear more from. Tour umbel servant to comand, "Petee Babxett. " late Sergeant in the — th Dragoons.'* Header, do you wish me a good-night ? Many thanks for your kindness, but if you have any hope that your wish will be realized, you must be of a very sanguine temperament, or you have never been in love. FRANK FAIRLEGH 32t> CHAPTER XLVIII. FATING OFF OLD SCORES. " Oh, most delicate fiend ! Who is't can read a woman ? Is there more ? More, sir, and vrorse." „ , ,. Cymbehne. ' The Chamberlain was blunt and true, and sturdily said he : • Abide, my lord, and rule your own, and take this rede from me. That woman's faith's a brittle trust. Seven twelve-months didst thou say f I'U pledge me for no lady's truth beyond the seventh day." . X u piougo J J Ballad of tht yohle Morxnger, It is a weary thing to lie tossing restlessly from side to side, sleep- less, througli the silent watches of the night, spirit and matter waiTing against each other— the sword gnawing and corroding its aheath. A weary and harassing thing it is even where the body is the aggressor— when the fevered blood, darting like liquid fire through the veins, mounts to the throbbing brow, and, pressing like molten lead upon the brain, crushes out thought and feeling, leaving but a dull consciousness of the racking agony which renders each limb a separate instrument of torture. K, on the other hand, it be the mind that is pestilence-stricken, the disease becomes well-nigh unbearable as it is incurable ; and thus it was with me on the night in question. The suspense and anxiety I had undergone dui-ing the preceding day had indisposed me for sustaining any fresh annoyance with equanimity, and now, in confirmation of my worst fear, that hateful sentence in old Peter's note, warning me of treachery in the quai-ter where I was most deeply interested, rose up before me like some messenger of evU torturing me to the verge of distraction with vague doubts and suspicions— fiends which the bright spirits of Love and Faith were powerless to banish. The old man's meaning was ob\'iou8; he imagined Clara inconstant, and was anxious to warn me against some supposed rival ; this in itself was not agree- able ; but I should have reckoned at once that he must be labouring under some delusion, and disregarded his suspicions as unworthy of a moment's notice, had it not been for Clara's strange and unac- countable sUence. I had written to her above a week before— in fact, as soon as I became at aU uneasy at not having heard from her, urging her to relieve my anxiety, if but by half a dozen lines. Up to this time 1 had accounted for not having received any answer, by the supposition that Mr. Yemor had, by some accident, detected our correspondence, and taken measures to interrupt it. But this hypothesis was e^-idently untrue, or Peter Bamett would have mentioned in his note such an easy solution of the difficulty. Yet, to believe Clara false was treason against constancy. Oh ! the thing was impossible; to doubt her sincerity would be to lose my 330 FRANK FAIRLEGH confidence in the existence of (joodneea and truth on this side the priive ! The recollection of her simple, child-like confession of affection — the happiness my love appeared to affurd her — the tender glance of those honest, tniHtful eyes — who could think of these things and suspect her for one moment ? But that old man's letter! What did it — what could it mean ? His allusion Ui some dark, hawk- eyed stranger — ha ! — and as a stranjfp, improbable idea ^,'lanced like liffhtninif through my brain — like li^htuin^, tfhted a candle, dressed myself, and then, sittinp^ down, ^vrote a short note to my mother, tellinj? her that an enffajfement, fonned the j)reviou8 eveninp'. to meet a friend, would probably detain me the jrrenter jtart of the day; and another note to Oaklands. sayiu^r that I had taken the lil>erty of l>orrowinff a horse, Ijo^jrin^' him to sj>eak of my absence as a thinjj of course, and promisinfj to tell him more when I returned. I then waited till a faint ffray tint in the eastern sky jjave promise of the cominff dawn ; when letting myself noiselessly out, I took my way towards the Hall. It was beginning to pet light as I reached the stables, and arousing one of the drowsy helpers, I made him saddle a Vjay mare, with whose high courage, 8r)eed, and powers of endurance I was well acquainted, and started on my expedition. As it was nearly eighteen miles to the place of meeting, I could scarcely hope to reach it by seven o'clock, the time mentioned in old Peter's note; but action was the only relief to my anxiety, and it may easily be supposed I did not lose much time on the road, so that it was but ten minutes after seven when I turned down the lane in which the little alehouse appointed as our rendezvous was situated. I found old Peter waiting to receive me, though tlie cloud upon his brow, speaking volumes of dark mystery, did not tend to raise my spirits. " Late on parade, sir," was his greeting ; " late on parade ; we should never have driven the Mounseers out of Spain if we'd been ten minutes behind our time every morning." " You forget, my friend, that I have had eighteen miles to ride, and that your notice was too shoi-t to allow of my giving orders about a horse over-night." " You do not seem to have lost much time by the way," he added, eyeing my reeking steed. " What a slap-up charger that mare would make ! Here, you boy, take her into the shed there, and throw a sack or two over her, wash out her mouth, and give her a lock of hay FRANK FAIRLEGH 331 to nibble ; but don't go to let her drink, unless you want my cane about your shoulders — do you bear ? Now, sir, come in." " What in the woi'ld did you mean by that note, Peter ? " exclaimed I, as soon as we were alone ; " it has nearly driven me distracted — I have never closed my eyes all night." " Then it's done as I intended," was the satisfactoi-y reply ; " it's prepai-ed you for the worst." " Nice preparation ! " muttered I, then added, " Worst ! what do you refer to ? Speak out, man — you are torturing me ! " " You'll hear it sooner than you like ; try and take it easy, young gentleman. Do you feel yourself quite prepared ? " I am afraid my rejoinder was more energetic than coiTCct ; but it appeared to produce greater effect than my entreaties had done, for he continued, — " Well, I see you will have it out, so you must, I suppose ; only if you ain't prepared proper, don't blame me. As far as I can see and hear — and I keeps my eyes and ears open pretty wide, I can tell you — I feels convinced that Miss Clara's guv you the sack and gone and taken up with another young man."' As he delivered himself of this pleasant opinion, old Peter slowly approached me, and ended by laying his hands solemnly on my shoulders, and, with an expression of fearful import stamped on his grotesque features, nodding thrice in my very face. " Nonsense ! " replied I, assuming an air of indifference I was far from feeling ; " such a thing is utterly impossible— you have deceived yourself in some ridiculous manner." *■ I only wish as I could think so, for all our sakes, Mr. Fairlegh ; but facts is like jackasses, precious stubborn things. Why are they always a-walking together, and talking so loving like, that even the old 'un hisself looks quite savage about it? And why ain't she never wrote to you since he cum— though she's had aU your letters —eh?" " Then she has received my letters ? " " Oh yes ! she's always had them the same as usual." " And a-re you sure she has never written to me ? " " Not as I know on ; I've never had one to send to you since she's took up with this other chap." " And pray who or what is this other chap, as you call him, and how comes he to be staying at Barstone ? " '* Well, sir, all as I can tell you about him is, that nigh upon a fort- night ago Muster Richard come home, looking precious ill and seedy ; and the wery next morning he had a letter from this chap, as I take it. I brought it to him just as they ning for the breakfast things to be took away, so I had a chance of stopping in the room. Direc'ly he sot eyes on the handwi-iting, he looked as black as night, and seemed all of a tremble like as he hopened it. As he read he seemed to get less frightened and more cross ; and when he'd finished it, he 'anded it to the old 'un, saying, ' It's all smooth, but he's taken it into his 832 FRANK PAIRLEGH head to come down here. What'w to l^e done, eh P ' Mr. Vemor read it throiijfh, and then said in an undertone, 'Of courH»j ho must come if he chooses.' He then whispered Boniethinj.r of whiidi I only caught the words, ' Send her away ;' to which Richard replied antrrily, ' It shall not be ; I'll shilly-shally no lonffer, — it must \>e done at once, I tell you, or I give the whole thintf up altogether.' Then they went into the library, and I heard no more ; but the wery next day come this here hidentical chap — he arrived in style. toi>^brit«ka and post-horses. Oh! he's a reif'lar swell, you may dejwud ; he lka Bomething like a Si)aniard, a foreijfne«rinjf style of physiojfraphy, only he ain't so swailhy." " Don't you know his name ? " inquired I. "They call him Mr. Fleminpr. but I don't believe that's his rijfht name ; leastways he had a letter come directed different, but 1 can't rememl:>er what it was; it was either— let me see — either a hess or a W ; I think it was a hess, but I can't say for certain." " But what has all this to do with Miss Saville P " asked I iui- patiently. " Fair and easy, fair and e;isy ; I'm a-cominf? to her direc'ly — the world was not made in a day ; you'll know sooner than you likes, I expects, now, sir. Well. I didn't fancy him from the first; he looks more like Saytin himself than any Christian as ever I set eyes on, except Boneyi)ai-t, which, l>ein>; a Fi-enchmau and a henemy. was not BO much to 1)6 wondered at ; however, he was wery quiet and civil and purlite to Miss Clara, and said werj* little to her, while Muster Richard and the old 'un was by, and she seemed rather to cho<.)8e to talk to him, as I thought, innocent-like, to avoid the t'other one; but afore lonjf they got quite friends together, and I soon see that he meant business, and no mistake. He's as hartf ul and deep as Garrick ; and there ain't no means of inweigling and coming over a woman as he don't try on her; ay. and he's a clever chap, too; he don't attempt to hurry the thing ; he's wery respectful and attentive, and seems to want to show her the difference between his manners and Muster Richard's — not worriting her like ; and he says sharp things to make Muster Richard look like a fool before her. I can't help larfing to myself sometimes to hear him, — Muster Dickey's met his match at last." " And how does Cumberland brook such interference ? " " Why, that's what I can't make out; he don't like it, that's clear: for I've seen him turn pale with rage ; but he seems afraid to quarrel with him, somehow. If ever he says a sharp word. Mr. Fleming gives him a scowling look with his wicked eyes, and Muster Richard shuts up direc'ly." " And you fancy Miss Saville appears disposed to receive this man's advances favourably ? Think well before you speak ; do not accuse her lightly, for, by Heaven ! if you have not good grounds for your insinuations, neither your age nor your long service shall avail to shield you from my anger ! every word breathed against her FRANK FAIRLEGH 333 is like a stab to me." As, in my grief and irritation, I threatened the old man. his brow reddened, and his eye flashed with all the fire of youth. After a moment's reflection, however, his mood changed, and, advancing towards me, he took my hand respectfully, and pressing it between his own, said, — " Forgive me this liberty, air, but I honours you, yoimg gentleman, for your high spirit and generous feeling ; your look and bearing, as you said them words, reminded me of my dear old master. It can't be no pleasure to me, sir, to blame his daughter, that I have loved for his sake, as if she had been a child of my own — but truth is truth ; " and as he uttered these words, the big drops stood in his eyes, un- failing witnesses of his sincerity. There is something in the display of real deep feeling, which for the time appears to raise and ennoble those who are under its influence ; and as the old man stood before me. I experienced towards him a mingled sentiment of admiration iind respect, and I hastily endeavoured to atone for the injustice I hoA done him. " Forgive me, Peter ! " exclaimed I ; " I did not mean what I said^ — son-ow and annoyance made me unjust to you, but you will forgive it?" " No need of that, sir," was the reply ; " I respects you all the more for it. And now, in answer to your question, I will go on with the little that remains to tell, and you can judge for yourself. Miss Clara, then, avoids Mr. Richard more than hever, and talks kind and pleasant like with this Mr. Fleming— walks out with him, sometimes ulone — rides with him — don't seem so dull and mopish like since he's been here, and has never hanswered your letters since she took up with him." As he concluded his catalogue of proofs, I threw myself into a chair, and sat with my hands pressed tightly on my brow for some minutes ; my Vjrain seemed on fire. At length, starting up abruptly, I exclaimed: "This is utterly unbearable ; I must have certainty, Peter : I must see her at once. How is that to be done ? " *' You may well ask," was his reply ; " better wait till I can find an opportunity, and let you know." "Listen to me, old Peter," continued I, laying my hand on his shoulder ; " there is that within me this day which can overcome all obstacles — I tell you I must see her, and I WILL ! " " Well, well, don't put yourself into a passion ; the only chance as I knows of is to ketch Miss Clara out walking ; and then ten to one Mr. Fleming will be with her." '• Let him ' " exclaimed I ; " why shovdd I avoid him ? I have not injured him, though he may have done me foul and bitter wi-ong ; it is for him to shrink from the encounter." " I know what the end of this will be," returned Peter Bamett ; ^' you'll quan-el ; and then, instead of off coats and having it out like Britons, there'll be a purlite hinvitation given, as kind and civil as if you was a-hasking him to dinner, to meet as soon as it's light 884 FRANK FAIRLEOn to-moiTOw morning', and do you the fuvour of putting a bnoe of bullets into you." " No. Peter, you do not understand my feelinjf on this 8u))ject; should you be right in your suspicions (und. althoui;h my faith in your youn)? mistress is such that uothintr but the evidence of my own senses can avail to shake it. I am fain to own circumstances appear fully to wan-ant them) — should these suspicions not pn)ve unfounded, it is her falsehood alone that %vill darken the sunshine of my future life. Fleminjf, or any other coxcomb who had taken advantatre of her fickleness, would be ey with hinfonnation as to the henemy's movements. Keep out of sight as much as you can." " It shall be done," replied I. Old Peter paused for a moTuent ; then, raining his hand to his forehead with a military salute, turned away and left me. Eight o'clock struck ; a girl brought me in breakfast ; nine and ten sounded from an old cltx-k in the bar. but the viands remained untasted. At a quarter past ten I rang the l>ell, and asked for a glass of water, drained it, and pressing my hat over my brow, sallied forth. The morning had been misty when I first started, but during- my sojourn at the inn the vapours had cleared away, and as, by the assistance of an old tree. I climbed over the paling of Barstone Park, the sun was shining brightly, wi-apping dale and down in a mantle of golden light. Rabbits spning up under my feet as I made my way through the fern and heather ; and pheasiints. their varied plumage glittering in the sunlight, ran along my path, seeking to hide their long necks iinder some sheltering furze brake, or rose heavily on the wing, scared at the unwonted intrusion. At any other time, the fair scene around me would have sufficed to make me light-hearted and happy, but in the state of suspense and mental torture in which I then was. the brightness of nature seemed only to contrast the more vividly with the diu-kness of soul within. And yet I could not believe her false. Oh no ! I should see her, and all would be explained ; and as this thought came across me, I bounded eagerly forward, and, anxious to accelei-ate the meeting, chafed at each trifling obstacle that opposed itself to my progress. Alas 1 one short hoiir from that time, I should have been glad had there been a lion in my path, so that I had failed to reach the fatal spot. "With my mind fixed on the one object of meeting Clara. I forgot the old m;m's i-ecommendation to keep out of sight; and flinging myself at full length on the bench, I rested my head upon my hand and fell into a reverie, distorting facte and devising impossible FRANK FAIRLEGH 335 contingencies to establish Clara's innocence. From this train of thought I was aroused by a muffled sound as of footsteps upon turf, and in another moment the following words, breathed in silvery accents, which caused my every pulse to throb with suppressed emotion, reached my ear : — " It is indeed an engagement of which I now heartily repent, and from which I would willingly free myself ; but — " " But," replied a man's voice, in the cold sneering tone of which, though now softened by an expression of courtesy, I had almost said of tenderness, I instantly recognized that of Stephen "Wilford — " but, having at one time encouraged the poor young man, your woman's heart will not allow you to say ' iso ' with sufficient firmness to show that he has nothing further to hope." " Indeed it is not so," replied the former speaker, who, as the reader has doubtless concluded, was none other than Clara Saville ; " you mistake me, Mr. Fleming ; if a word could prove to him that his suit was hojjeless, that word should soon be spoken." " It is not needed I " exclaimed I, springing to my feet, and suddenly confronting them ; " that of which the tongue of living man would have failed to convince me, my ears have heard and my eyes have seen ! It is enough. Clara, from this moment you will be to me as if the grave had closed over you ; yet not so. for then I could have loved your memory, and deemed that an angel had left this false and cruel world to seek one better fitted to her bright and sinless nature I — Farewell, Clara, may you \je as happy as the recollection (which will haunt you at times, strive as you may to banish it) that by your falsehood you have embittered the life of one who loved you with a deep and true affection will permit ! " and overcome by the agony of my feelings, I leaned against the bench for support, my knees trembling so that I could scarcely stand. When I appeared before her so unexpectedly, Clara started back and uttered a slight scream ; after which, apparently overwhelmed by my vehemence, she had remained perfectly silent ; whilst her companion, who had at first favoured me with one of his withering glances, perceiving that I was so completely engrossed as to be scarcely conscious of his presence, resumed his usual manner of contemptuous indifference. He was, however, the first to speak. " This gentleman, whom I believe I have the pleasure of recogniz- ing,"' and here he slightly raised his hat, " appears. I can scarcely suppose a friend, but at all events, an intimate of yours, Miss Sa\'ille ; if you wnsh me — that is, if I am at all ' de trop ' " — and he stepped back a pace or two, as if only awaiting a hint from her to withdraw, while, with his snake-like glance riveted upon her features , he watched the effect of his words. " No. pray do not leave me, Mr. Fleming," exclaimed Clara hurriedly ; " Mr. Fairlegh must see the impossibility of remaining here. I am momentarily expecting Mr. Cumberland and my guardian, to join us." ^36 FRANK FAIRLEGII " I leave you," replied I, makinjs' an effort to recover myself ; " 1 seek not to pain you V>y my prt'senoe, I would not add to your feelings of self-reproach by look or word of mine;" then, catchinff Wilford's glance fixed upon me with an expression of gmtified maJice, I continued, " For you, sir, I seek not to learn by what vile ai-ts you have succeeded thus far in your iniquitous designs ; it is enough for me that it should have been possible for you to succeed ; my happiness you have destroyed ; but I have yet duties to perform, and my life is in the hands of Him who gave it, nor will I risk it by a fruitless quai-rel with a |)ractised homicide." The look of concentrated hatred with which he regarded me during this speech, changed again to scornful .indifference, as he replied, -with a contemptuous laugh, " Really, sir, you are labouring under some singular delusion; I have no intention of quarrelling; you appear to raise i>hantom3 for the pleasui-e of combating them. How. ever, as far as I can comprehend the affair, you are iuiputing to me an honour belonging rather to my friend Cuml>erland ; and liere, in good time, he comes to answer for himself. Cumberlarxi, here's a gentleman mistaking me for you, I fancy, who seems labouring under some strange delusions about love and murder ; y(ju had better s{)eak to him." As he concluded, Cuml^erland. attended by a gamekeeper leading a shooting pony, came up, looking flushed and angry. " I should have been here sooner," he said, addressing Wilford, " but Browne told me he had tr.iced poachers in the park ; the foot- steps can })e otherwise accounted for now. I perceive." He then made a sign for the keeper to approach, and turning towai-ds me, added, *' You are trespassing, air." His tone and manner were so insolent and overbearing, that my blood boiled in my veins. Unwilling, however, to bring on a quan-el in such a presence, I restrained my indignation, and replied, " I know not what devil sent you here at this moment, Richard CumVjer- land ; I have been sorely tried, and I warn you not to provoke me farther." " I tell you, you are trespassing, fellow ; this is the second time I have caught you lurking about ; take yourself off instantly, or — " as he spoke he stepped towards me, raising his cane with a threatening gestxire. " Or what ? " inquired I. at length thoroughly roiised ; and. drawing myself up to my full height, I folded my arms across my chest, and stood before him in an attitude of defiance. As I did so, he turned deadly pale, and for a moment his resolution seemed to fail him ; but catching the sound of Wilford's sneering laugh, and relying on the assistance of the gamekeeper, who. having tied the pony to a tree, was fast approaching the scene of action, he replied, " Or receive the chastisement due to such skulking vagabonds !" and springing upon me, he seized my collar with one hand, while with the other he drew the cane sharply across my shoulders. SScr^"^ FRANK FAIRLEGH 337 To free myself from his ^asp by a powerful effort was the work of a moment, while almost at the same time I struck him with my full force, and catching him on the upper part of the nose, dashed him to the gi-oimd, where he lay motionless, and apparently stunned, with the blood gushing from his mouth and nostrils. CHAPTER XLIX. MR. FEAMPTON MAKES A DISCOVERY. " In a tandem I see nothinfr to induce the leader to keep his course straiffhtforward, but an address on the part of the charioteer as nearly as can te supernatural. Zd for my ovoi part. I think leaders of tandems are particularly apt to turn short ^ri'd i^d^the^pudence with which thev do it. in some instances, is P^st ^U descnp- tion^ staring aU the while fuU in the faces of those in the carriage, as much as to say 'I must have a peep at the fools behind that are pretending to manage me. -TlunU ^^ " But he grew rich, and with his riches grew 80 Keen the desire to see his home again, He thought himself in duty bound to do so. Lonely he felt at times as Robin Crusoe." Beppo. All that passed immediately after the events I have described left but a succession of vague and confused images on my memory. I have some dim recollection of seeing them raise Cumberland from the ground, and of his showing symptoms of returning animation ; but I remember nothing distinctly tiU I again found myself a tenant of the little sanded parlour in the village inn. My first act was to ring for a basin of cold water and a towel, with which I weU bathed my face and head ; in some degi-ee refreshed by this process, I sat down and endeavoured to collect my scattered senses. I had succeeded in my immediate object, and suspense was at an end. I had obtained cei-tain proof of Clara's falsehood ; with her own lips I had heard her declare that she repented her engagement, and wished to be freed from it; and the person to whom she had confided this was a man whose attentions to her were so marked that even the very servants considered him an acknowledged suitor. What encoui-agement could be more direct than this ? Well, then, she was faithless, and the dream of my life had departed. But this was not all ; my faith in human nature was shaken-nay, destroyed at a blow. If she could prove false, whom could I ever trust agam ? Alas 1 the grief— the bitter, crushing grief— when the consciousness is forced upon us that she with whom we have held sweet interchange of thought and feeling— with whom we have been linked by aU the z a38 FRANK FAIRLKGH BUfretl ties of mutual confi'lfnce — with whose sorrows we bare sympathized, and whose smiles we have hailed na the freed captive hails the sunshine and the dews of heaven — that one whom for these thin^rs we have loved with all the dee[)eMt instincts of an earnest and impassioned nature, and for wlKJse truth we would have answered as for our own, is false and unwcjrthy such tnie affection —oh I this is bitter t(r'\et, indeed ! Deep sorrow, absorbing? all the faculties of the Boul. leaves no room for any other etnotiim; and the one idea, that C'lani Saville— the Clam Saville whom my imayination had depicted, the simple, the lovinjf. the tnie-hearted was lost to me for ever. I for>;d. Durinif his absence it occurred to me that, as Wilford had been introduced to her tmder a feigTied name, Clara must l>e utterly iirnorant of the evil reputaticm attachinff to him, and that — althou^rh tliis did not in any way affect her heartless conduct towards me- it was only rijfht that she should be made aware of the true character of the miui with whom she had to deal ; therefore, painful as it was to hold any communication with her after what had passed, I felt that the time miifht come when my nejflect of this duty mit;ht affi>rr the most bitter stdf-r^'proach. Accurdiiiifly, askinj; for pen. ink. and paj)er, I sat down and wrote the followinff not« : — " After the o<'curTences of this momin);, I had thou(fht never, either by word or letter, to hold further communication with you ; by your own act you have sepanited us for ever ; and I — yes, I can say it with truth — am jrlad that it should be so — it prevents all contlict between reason and feelinff. But I have what I deem a duty to perform towards you — a duty rendered all the more difficult, l^ecause my motives are liable to cruel misconstruction ; but it is a duty, juid therefore must be done. You are, prol>al»ly, as little aware of the true character of the man calling himself Fleminfr as of his real name ; of him may be said, as of the Italian of old, that ' his hate is fatal to man, and his love to woman ' ; he is alike notorious as a duellist and a libertine. My knowledge of him arises from his having in a duel wounded almost unto death the dearest friend I have on earth, who had saved an innocent jrirl from addinff to his list of victims. If you require proof of this l>ey«>nd my word, ask Mr. Stephen Wilford — for such is really his name — in your (^ardian's presence, whether he remembers Lizzy Maurice and the smart of Harry Oaklands' horsewhip. And now, having warned you, yonr fate is under your own control. For what is past I do not reproach you ; you have been an instrument in the hands of Providence to wean my affections from this world, and if it is His pood pleasure that instead of a field for high enterprise and honest exertion, I should FRANK FAIRLEGH 339 "henceforth learn to recfard it as a scene of broken faith and crushed "hopes, it is not for me to rebel against His will. And so farewell for ever !— F. F." I had not lon^ finished writing the above when the boy returned, "bringing the following missive from old Peter : — *' Honoured Sir, " The topper as you've give Muster Richard ain't done him no more harm, only lettin' hout a little of his mad blood, and teachin' "'im when he speakslto a gemman to haddress 'im as sich ; 'is face is swelled as big as too, and he'll 'ave a sweet pair of black byes to- morrer, please goodness, which is a comfort to reflect on. Touchin' uther matturs, I've got scent of summut as may make things seeme not so black as we thort, but it's honly in the hegg at present, and may never come to a chickin, so don't go settin' too much on it ; but if you've nothin' better to do, ride over again the day arter to- morrer, by which time I may have more to communicate. " Your humbel sei'vant to command, "Petee Barnett." I pondered for some minutes on what this enigmatical document might portend; but a little reflection served to convince me that neither Peter nor anyone else could discover aught affecting the only feature of the whole affair which deeply interested me ; on that point I had obtained tbe information of my own senses, and there was nothing more to hope or fear. 1 had learned the worst ; the blow had fallen, and it only i-emained for me to War it with what fortitude I might. Accordingly I enclosed my note to Clara in one to Peter Barnett, telling him I could see no reason for coming there again, And that in all probability I should not take the trouble of doing so, adding that if he hud anything new to communicate he had better do BO in writing, and then, ordering my horse, I rode slowly home, feeling more thoroughly miserable than I had ever done before in the ■whole course of my life. The next morning was so fine that all kinds of pleasurable schemes were proposed and acceded to. Oaklands and Fanny rode out to- gether in all the unrestrained freedom of an engaged tete-a-tete. The new dog-cart had arrived, and the chestnuts were to make their debut ; consequently. Lawless spent the morning in the stable-yard, united by the closest bonds of sympathy with the head groom and an atten- dant harness maker, the latter being a young man whose distinguish- ing characteristics were a strong personal savour of new leather, hands gloved in cobbler's wax and harness-dye, and a general tendency to come off black upon everything he approached. Sir John and the rest of the party were to fill a britska, and the place of rendezvous was the ruins of an old abl.ey about eight miles distant. Feeling quite imfit for society, I had excused myself on the plea vi-etch scrambled up somehow, like a monkey ; and as soon as he was safely landed, what does he do but lean back, fold his arms, winking at one of the heljiers, squeak out, ' Oh, crickey ! ain't this spicy, just!' 'You're never going to take that poor child?' says I ; * only think of his anxious mother ! ' Well, sir, if you'll believe it, they every one of 'em burst out laughing — helpers, brat and all — as if I'd said something very ridiculous. ' Never mind, governor,' says Lawless ; ' depend .upon it, his mother knows he's out,' and catching hold of the reins, he clambers up into his seat, shouting, ' Give 'em their heads ! Stand clear ! Chut ! chut ! ' As soon as the bnites found they were loose, instead of starting off at a jog-trot, as reasonable, well-behaved horses ought to do, what do you suppose they did ? The beast they tied on in front turned short round, stared Lawless in the face, and stood up on its hind-legs like a kangaroo, while the other animal would not stir a peg, but, laying down his ears, gave a sort of a screech, and kicked out behind. ' Pretty playful things,' said Lawless, flipping the ashes off the end of his cigar. ' Put his head straight, William. Chut ! chut ! ' But the more he chutted. the more they wouldn't go, and began tearing and rampaging about the yard till I thought they'd be over me, so I scrambled up a little low wall to get out of their way, missed my footing and tumbled over backwards on to a dung-heap, and before I got up again they were off ; but if that young jackanapes don't break his neck some of these days, I'm a Dutchman ! Umph ! umph ! " ■' Lawless is a capital whip," replied I, " and the chestnuts, though fiery, are not really vicious. I don't think there is much danger." FRANK FAIRLEGH 341 " Ah ! young men ! young men ! you're all f oolisli alike. I don't Tcnow liow you'd get on if you hadn't a few old stagers like me to think for you and give you good advice. And that puts me in mind that I ■want to have half an hour's serious conversation with you, Frank. Can you listen to me now ? " " I am quite at youi- service, sir," replied I, resigning myself to my fate with the best grace I could command. " Umph ! Well, you see, Frank, I've no chick nor child of my own, and I've taken a kind of a fancy to you from a boy; you were always a good boy and a clever boy, and you've gone on well at college, and distinguished yovu'self, and have been a credit to the man that sent you there. — By-the-bye, didn't you ever want to know who it was sent you there ? " " Often and often," replied I, "have I longed to know to whose dis- intei-ested kindness and generosity I was indebted for so great an advantage." " Umph ! Well, you must be told some day, I suppose, so you may as well know now as at any other time. The man that sent you to college ain't very unlike me in the face. Umph ! " " My dear, kind friend," replied I seizing his hand and pressing it warmly, " and it is indeed you wlio have taken such interest in me ? How can I ever thank you ? " " I want no thanks, boy ; you did better than thank me when you came out fourth wi-angler ; why, I felt as proud that day when they were all pi-aising you as if it had been my own son. Say no more about that ; but now you've left college, what ai"e your wishes — what do you think of doing ? Umph ! " " I had thought of reading for the bar, deeming it a profession in which a man stands a fair chance of distinguishing himself by honourable exertion ; I am aware it is somewhat uphill work at starting, but Mr. Coleman has promised to introduce me to sevei*al men in his branch of the profession, and to give me all the business he can himself, so I should not be quite a briefless barrister. But if there is anything else you wish to recommend, any other career you would advise me to pursue, I am very indifferent — that is, I am not at all bigoted to my o^^ti opinion." " Umph ! I never had any over-strong affection for lawyers — gentle- men that eat the oystei-s themselves and leave their clients the shells ! However, I suppose there may be such things as honest lawyers to be met with, and it's better for evei-y man to have a profession. Well, now, listen to me, Frank. I — umph I — your sister's going to be married, to be married to a young man for whom I've a very great respect and affection ; Sir John Oaklands is a thorough specimen of a fine old English gentleman, and his son bids fair to become just such another, or even a yet higher character, for HaiTy's got the better head-piece of the two. However, I don't like your sister to man-y into such a family without a little money of her own to buy a wedding bonnet ; so you give her this letter, and tell her to mind and 842 FRANK FAIRLEGH get a beoominer one. We may tnist a woman to take care of that, thouffh, eh, Frank ? Umph ! " " Really, sir, your kindness quite overpowers me ; we have no possible claim upon your liberality." " Yes, you have, boy — yes, you have," replied Mr. Frampton, " the strongest claim that can be ; you have saved me from falling a victim to the worst disease a man can suffer under, — you have saved me from becoming a cold-heai-ted, soured misanthrope; you have given me something to love, some pure, unselfish interest in life. And now we are on the subject, I may as well tell you all my plans and wishes in regard to you : I have no soul belonging to me, not a relation in the wide world that I am awai*e of, and I determined, from the time when I first sent you to college, that if you conducted yourself well and honourably, I would make you my heir.— Don't intennipt me." he continued, seeing that I was a>>out to speak, "let me finish what I have to say, and then you shall tell me whether you approve of it. You not only came up to. but far surpassed, my most sanguine ex- pectations, and I saw therefore no reason to alter my original inten- tions. But it is stupid work for a man to wait till all the best days of his life are passed, without funds sufiicient to render him indepen- dent, to feel all his energies cramped, his talents dwarfed, and his brightest aspirations checked, by a servile dependence on the will and caprice of another — waiting for dead men's shoes, — umph ! and so Frank, as I feel pretty tough and hearty for sixty-five, and may live, if it please God, another ten or fifteen years to plague you, it's my wish to make you your own master at once, and I'll either assist you to enter any profession you please, or, if you like to settle down into a country gentleman, and can pick up a nice wife anywhere, I can allow you .£1000 a year to l^egin with, and yet have more than I shall know how to spend during the rest of my days in the land of the living. For my own part, this last i)lan would give me the greatest satisfaction, for I should like to see you comfortably married and settled before I die. Now what do you say to it ? Umph ! " What did I say ? — what could I say ? I got up. and having once again pressed his hands warmly between my own, began pacing the room, quite overcome by this unexpected liberality, and the conflicting natui-e of my own feelings. But two short days ago, and such an offer would have been— as I then fondly imagined — the only thing wanting to secure my happiness ; possessed of such ample means of supporting her, I could at once have gone boldly to Mr. Vemor. and demanded Clara's hand — nor could he have found just cause for refusing my request ; and now, when what once appeared the only insurmountable obstacle to our union was thus removed, the thought that, by her faith- lessness and inconstancy, she had placed a ban-ier between us for ever, was indeed bitter. Surprised by the excess of my emotion, for which, of course, he was totally unable to account, Mr. Frampton sat gazing at me with looks of astonishment and dismay, till at length he broke out with the following interrogatory : " Umph ! eh ! why, Frank — FRANK FAIRLEGH 343 umph ! anybody would think you had just heard you were going to be aiTested for debt.'instead of ha^dng a fortune given you — umph ! " " My dear, kind friend," replied I, " forgive me. Tour unparalleled liberality, and the generous interest you take in me, give you a father's right over me, and entitle you to my fullest confidence ; such an offer as yoii have now made me would have rendered me, but one short week ago, the hapi:)iest of mortals; now, my only chance of regaining anything like ti-anquillity of mind lies in constant and active employment." I then gave him, as briefly as I could, an outline of my singular ac- quaintance with Clara Saville, our engagement, and the events which hadled to my breaking it off, to aU of which he listened with the greatest intei*est and attention. In telling the tale I mentioned Wilford and Cumlserland by name, as he knew the former by reputation, and had seen the latter when a boy at Dr. Mildman's ; but I merely spoke of Clara as a young lady whom I had met at Mr. Coleman's, and of Mr. Vemor as her guardian. When I concluded, he remained for a moment buried in thought, and then said, " And you are quite sure she is false ? Are you certain that what you heard her say (for that seems to me the strongest point) referred to you ? " " Would I could doubt it ! " replied I, shaking my head mournfully. " Umph ! — Well. I dare say — she's only like all the rest of her sex : it's a pity the world can't go on without any women at all — what is her name ? — a jilt ! " " Hername," replied I, shuddering as he applied the epithet of " jUt" to her — for, deserved as I could not but own it was, it yet appeared to me little short of profanation,—*" her name is Clara Saville ! " " Umph ! eh ? Saville ! " exclaimed Mr. Fi-ampton. " What was her mother's name ? Umph ! " " I never heard," replied I. " Her father, Colonel SaviUe, was knighted for his gallant conduct in the Peninsula. Her mother, who was an heiress, died abroad ; her guardian, Mr. Vemor — " " Umph ! Vemor. eh I Vemor ! Why. that's the fellow who wi-ote to me and told me — umph ! wait a bit, I shall be back directly. I— eh ! — umph 1 umph ! umph I " And so saying, Mr. Fi-ampton rushed out of the room in a perfect pai'oxysm of gmnting. It was now my turn to be astonished, and I was so most thoroughly. What could possibly have caused Mr. Frampton to be so strangely affected at the mention of Clara's name and that of her guardian ? Had he known Mr. Vemor in former days ? Had he been acquainted with Clai-a's father or mother ? Could he have been attached to her as I had l>een to Clara, and like me, too, have become the dupe of a heartless jilt? A jilt — h6w I hated the word ! how the blood boiled within me when that old man applied it to her ! And yet it was the truth. But oh ! the heart- spasm that darts thi-ough our breast when we hear some cai-eless tongue proclaim, in plain intelligible language, the fault of one we love — a fault which, even at the moment when we may be suffering 344 FRANK FAIRLEGH from it most deeply, we have striven sedulously to hide from others, and scarcely acknowled^'ed definitely to ourselves. In vague musings, such as these, did I pass away the time till Mr. Frampton returned. As he approached, the traces of strong emotion were visible on his countenance ; and when he spoke, hia voice sounded hoarse and broken. " The ways of God are indeed inscrutable," he said. " Information which for years I have vainly sought, and would gladly have given half my wealth to obtain, has come to me when I least expected it ; and. in place of joy, has brought me deepest sorrow. Frank, my poor boy ! she who has thus Avi-ung thy true heart by her cruel false- hood is my niece, the orphan child of my sister ! " In reply to my exclamations of sui-prise, he proceeded to inform me that his father, a man of considerable property in one of the midland counties, had had three children : himself, an elder brother, and a sister some years his junior, whose birth deprived him of a mother's love. His brother tyrannized over him ; and on the occasion of his father's second marriage he was sent to school, where he was again unfortimate enough to meet with harsh treatment, against which his high spirit rel)elled ; and having no better counsellors than his own inexperience and impetuosity, he determined to ran away and go to sea. A succession of accidents conspired to prevent his return to his native country, until, being taken as clerk in a merchant's counting-house at Calcutta, he was eventiuiUy admitted into partner- ship, and acquired a large foiiune. As he advanced beyond middle life, he felt a strong wish to return to England, seek out his family, and revisit the scenes of his boyhood ; but on carrying his project into execution, he learned that his father and brother had both paid the debt of natui'e, while his sister, the only one of his relatives towards whom he had ever entertained much affection, had man-ied a Colonel Saville ; and having accompanied her husband to Spain, had died there without leaving any offspring. The last piece of information he had acquired from a Mr. Venior, to whom he had been recommended to apply. His surprise, therefore, when he heard of the existence of Clara, may easily be imagined. A long conversa- tion ensued between us, with the consequences of which the reader will be better acquainted when he shall have read the following chapter. FRANK FAIRLEGH 345 CHAPTER L. A RAT OF SUNSHINE. " When you shall please to play the thief for a wife I'll watch as long for you." Shakesiieare , *' Hold ! give me a pen and ink ! Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a suppUcation ? " Titut Andronictta. The result o£ my conversation with Mr. Franipton was that I agi'eed to ride over on the following day to the little inn at Barstone, see old Peter Bamett, hear his report, and learn from him further particulars concerning Clara Saville's parentage, in order to establish heyond the possibility of doubt the fact of her relationship to Mr. Prampton, who, in the event of his expectations proving well-founded, was detei-mined to assert his claim, supersede Mr. Yemor in his oflBce of guardian, and endeavom*, by every means in his power, to prevent his niece's mariiage either vnth Wilford or Cumberland. The only stipulation I made, was that when I had obtained the requisite information, he should take the affair entirely into his own hands, and, above all, promise me never to attempt, directly or indirectly, to bring about a reconciliation between Clara and myself. Not that I bore her any ill-will for the misei-y she had caused me. On the contrary, my feeling towards her had been from the very first one of grief rather than of anger. But a girl who could possibly have acted as Clara had done, was not one whom I ever should wish to make my wife. I could not marry a woman I despised. After Mr. Frampton had left me, I sat pondering on the singular train of circumstances (chances as we unwisely, if not sinfully, term them) which occur in a man's life — how events which change the whole current of our existence appeal- to hang upon the merest trifles — the strange mysterious influence we exercise over the destinies of each other — how by a word, a look, we may heal an aching heart or — break it. It is, I think, in a poem of Faber's that the following lines occur (I quote from memory, and therefore, perhaps, incorrectly) : — " Perchance our very souls Are in each other's hands." Life is, indeed, a fearful and wonderful thing — doubly fearful when we reflect, that every moment we expend for good or evil is a seed sown to blossom in eternity. As I thought on these things, something which Mr. Frampton had said, and which at the time I let pass without reflection, recun-ed to my mind. He had asked me whether I was ^Q FRANK FATRLEGH certain that the words I heard Clara address to Wilford referred to me. Up to this moment I had felt perfectly sure they did ; but, after all, was it so certain ? might they not equally well apply to Cumberland P was there a chance, was it even poasilde, that I had misunderstood her ? Oh, that I dare hope it ! gladly would I seek her pardon for the injustice I had dune hei — gladly would I imdergo any probation she might appoint, to atone for my want of faith in her constancy, even if it entailed years of banishment from her presence, the most severe punishment my imagination could devise ; but then the facts, the stubborn, immovable facta, my letters received and unanswered — the confidential footing she was on with Wilford— the — But why madden myself by recapitulating the hateful catalogue ? I had learned the worst, and would not suffer myself to be again beguiled by the mere phantom of a hoj^e. And yet, so thoroughly inconsistent are we, that my heart felt lightened of half its burden; and when the pleasure- seekers returned from their expedition, I was congi-atulated by the whole party upon the beneficial effects produced on my headache by perfect rest and quiet. Lawless and Coleman made their appearance some half -hour after the otheis, and just as Mr. Frampton had promulgated the cheering^ opinion that they would V)e brought home on shutters, minus their brains, if they ever possessed any. It seemed the chestnuts, having at starting relieved their minds by the little " ballet d'action " which had excited Mr. Frampton's tenors, did their work in so fascinating a manner that Lawless, not l^ing satisfied with Slirimp's declaration that " they was the stunnin'est 'orses as hever he'd sot hyes on," determined (wshing to display their perfections to a higher audience) that one of the party should accompany him on his return ; where- upon Freddy Coleman had been by common consent selected, much against his will. However, " the victim," as he tenued himself, escaped without anything very tremendous happening to him, the chestnuts (with the slight exception of running away across the common, rushing through a flock of geese, thereby bringing a premature Michaelmas on certain unfortimate individuals of the party in a very reckless and unceremonious manner, and dashing within a few inches of a gravel-pit, in a way which was more exciting than agreeable) having conducted themselves (or more properly speaking, allowed themselves to be conducted) as well-bred horses ought to do. When the party separated to prepai-e for dinner, I called Fanny on one side, and gave her Mr. Frampton's letter : on opening it, a banker's order for ^£3000 dropped out of it — a new instance of my kind friend's liberality, which really distressed more than it gratified me. During the course of the evening Harry Oaklands expressed so much anxiety about my ill looks, appearing almost hurt at my i-esei^e, that I could hold out no longer, but was forced to take him into my confidence. FRANK FAIRLEGH 347 " My poor Frank ! " exclaimed he, wi-inpring my hand wai*mly, as I finished the recital, " to think that you should have been suffering all this soiTow and anxiety, while I, selfishly engrossed by my own. feelings, had not an idea of it; but you ought to have told me sooner." " Perhaps I should ; but it has been, from the very beginning, such a strange, melancholy affair, so unlikely ever to turn out happily, that I have felt a strong repugnance to speak of it to any- one ; and even now I must beg you not to mention it to Fanny — at all events, till my last act in the business is performed, and Mr. Frampton takes the matter into his own hands." " After all," rejoined Oaklands, " I feel there must be some mistake ; she never can be false to you — never love that villain Wilford. Oh, Frank ! how can you bear to doubt her ? " " It is indeed misery to do so," replied I, sighing deeply ; " and yet, when one's reason is convinced, it is weakness to give way to the suggestions of feeling." " If Fanny were to prove false to me, I should lie down and die," exclaimed Oaklands vehemently. " You might wish to do so," replied I ; " but grief does not always kill ; if it did, in many cases it would lose half its bitterness." A look was his only answer, and we pai-ted for the night. Daylight the next morning found me again in the saddle, and I i-eached the little inn by eight o'clock. On my ai-rival, I despatched a messenger to old Peter Bamett, telling him I wished to see him, and then, determining that I would not allow myself to hope, only again to be disappointed, I rang for breakfast, and set resolutely to work to demolish it ; in which I succeeded very respectably, merely stopping to walk round the room and look out of the window between every second mouthful. At length my envoy returned, with a message to the effect that Mr. Bamett would come down in the course of the moraing, but that I was by no means to go away without seeing him, and that he hoped I would be careful not to show myself, as the enemy were out in gi'eat force, and all the sentries had been doubled. " What does he mean by that ? " inquired I of the boy who delivered the message — an intelligent little urchin, who was evidently well up in the whole affair, and appeared highly delighted at the trust reposed in him, to say nothing of the harvest of sixpences his various missions produced him. " Vy, sir, he means that the gamekeeper has had two extra assistants allowed him since you vos there the other day, sir, and they has strict orders to take hup anybody as they finds in the park, sir." " They need not alarm themselves," replied I ; " I shall not intrude upon their domain again in a huiTy. Now look out, and let me know ■when Peter Bamett is coming." So saying. I gave him the wished-for sixpence, and with a grin of satisfaction he depai-ted. y his manner, I exclaimed, as I closed the parlour-door behind him, " Well, Peter; speak out, man — what is it? " " Oh ! my breath ! " was the reply, " i-unning don't suit old legs like it does young uns. I say, sir, did ye see him go by ? " " I saw Mr. Veraor pass a few minutes since," replied I. " Ah ! that's what I've been a-waiting for ; we're safe from him for the next four hours : he didn't see you, did he 'i " *' No," retiu-ned I ; " he was fortunately looking another way." " Well, it's all right, then, everything's all right ! oh I lor, I'm so happy." " It's more than I am," replied I angrily ; for feeling convinced that nothing could have occurred matenally to affect the position in ■which Clara and I stood towards each other, the old man's joy gi'ated harsldy on my gloomy state of mind, and I Ijegan to attribute his excessive hilarity to the influence of the ale-tap. " You will drive me frantic with your ridiculous and unseasonable mirth. If you have anything to communicate likely to relieve my sorrow and anxiety, in the name of common sense speak out. man." " I beg your pardon, sir ; I was so happy myself, I was forgetting you ; I've got so much to tell you, I don't know where to begin rightly ; but, however, here goes— to the right about face ! March ! " He then proceeded to give me, with much circumlocution, which I will mei'cifully spare the reader, the following account : After he had left me at the conclusion of our last intei*view. feeling, as he said, " moi'e wi-etcheder" than he had ever done before, in going through the park, he observed two persons, a man and a woman, in close conversation ; on his approach they separated, but not until he had been able to recognize Wilford, and one of the female servants, Clai-a's personal attendant. " This," as he continued, " set him a- thinking," and the result of his cogitations occasioned the mysterious hint thrown out to me in h's note. On receiving my letter for Clara, he found an opportunity of delivering it in person, inquiring, when he did so, both when she had last heard from, and written to me ; at the same time informing her that he had a very particular reason for asking. He then learned what he had more than suspected from the interview he had witnessed in the park, namely, that since Wilford had been in the house, she had not only never received one FRANK FAIRLEGH 34& of my lettei's, but had written to me more than once to ascertain the cause of such an unaccountable silence. These letters she had, as usual, given to her maid to convey to Peter Baraett ; and the g-irl, cajoled and bribed by Wilford, had evidently given them to him instead. This induced Peter, as he expressed it, " to open his heai-t to his young mistress," and with deep contrition he confessed to her the suspicions he had entertained of her fickleness, how he had communicated them to me, and how circumstances had forced me to believe them. Clara, naturally much distressed and annoyed by this information, blamed him for not having spoken to her sooner, assm-ing him that he had wi-onged her deeply in imagining such things, and desired him somewhat haughtily to lose no time in un- deceiving Mr. Fairlegh. He then inquired whether she wished to send any answer to my note ; on which she read it through with a quivering lip, and replied, '" Yes, tell him, that as he finds it so easy to believe evil of me, I agi-ee with him that it will be better our acquaintance should teiminate." She then motioned to him to leave the room, and he was obliged to obey ; but, glancing at her as he closed the door, he perceived that she had covered her face with her hands, and was weeping bitterly. He next set to work with the waiting-maid, and by dint of threats of taking her before Mr. Yernor, and promises, if she confessed all, that he would intercede with Clara for her forgiveness, he elicited from her the whole truth, — namely, that by the joint influence of bribes and soft speeches, Wil- ford had induced her to hand over to him her mistress's letters, and that he had detained every one either to or from me. " Well, sir," continued he, " that was not such a bad day's work altogether, but I ain't been idle since. Mr. Fleming, or Wilford, as you say he is, started off the first thing this morning for London, and ain't ciuuming back till the day after to-morrow; so, thinks I, we'U turn the tables upon you, my boy, for once — that 'ere letter dodge was very near a-i-uining us, 1 wonder how it will hact t'other way : and a lucky thought it was too. Muster Fairlegh, for sich a scheme of willainy as I've descivered all dewised against poor dear Miss Clara—" " A scheme against Miss Saville ! " exclaimed I ; " what do you mean ? " " I'm a-going to tell you, sir, on'y you're in such a hun-y, you puts me out. After the thought as I was a-mentioning cum into my head, off I walks to meet the postman—' Hany letters for us, Giles ? ' says I. ' Well, I don't rightly know,' says he, ' you've got some folks a-staying with you, ain't ye ?' ' Let's look, my man,' says I, peeping over him as he sorted the letters. Presently he cum to one as seemed to puzzle him. ' W. I. L,' says he, ' W. I. L. F. — ' ' Oh! ' says I, 'that's the gent as is a-staying at our 'ouse; give us 'old on it.' ' And here's one for Mr. Wemor, and that's aU,' says he, and he guv me the letter and walked off. ' That's right, Peter,' says I to myself, ' we shall know a little more of the henemy's movements, now 350 FRANK FAIRLEGH we've captivated some of their private despatches, by a " coo-dur- man{?." as the Mounseers call it ; ' so I locks myself into the pantry, und sits down, and breaks the seal." " You opened the letter ! " exclaimed I. '* In course I did ; how was I to read it if I hadn't ? all's fair in love and war, you know — the blessed Duke of Wellinprton served Bony so many a time. I'll be bound ; Vjesides. hadn't he opened Miss Clara's, the blackguard ? Well, sir, I read it, and it's lucky as I did; oh ! he's a bad un ; he's a deal wickeder than Muster Richard hisself, and that's sayinp sumthing — it's from a Captain — " " Really, Peter, I cannot avail myself of information obtained in such a manner," intemipted I. " Ah ! but you must, though," was the reply, " if you want to prevent this black willain from cairying off Miss Clai-a, and man-y- ing her, ' nolus bolus.' " " Can-yiug off Miss Clara! what dp you mean ? " " I was a-going to tell you," retnnied old Peter, with a cunning grin, producing a crumpled letter, "only you wouldn't listen to me." As I (not being prepared with a satisfactory answer) remained silent, he smoothed the letter with his hand, and read as follows : — "My Dear Sir, — I was unfortunately out of town when your letter arrived, and it had to be sent after me ; V)ut I hope you will get this in time to prevent your having to come to London, which is unnecessary, as I have been aVjle to carry out all your arrangements as you would wish. A carnage, with four horses, will be kept in readiness, so that it can be brought to any point you may direct at lialf an liour's notice. I presume you and I, with Wilson (that's his valet) are suflBcient to carry off the girl— young lady, I mean, even if there be any papa or brother in the case, who would be the letter for a little knocking down ; but if you like more assistance, I can lay my hand on two or three sprightlyl lads, who would be very glad to make themselves useful. You are flying at high game this time. Do you really mean matrimony, or is it to be the old scheme, a mock marriage ? I ask, because in the latter case I must look out for somebody to play parson. Wishing you your usual luck, " I remain, yours to command, " Ferdinand Spicer, " Captain in the Bilboa Fencibles." " Spicer ! " I exclaimed, as he concluded ; " I knew a Captain Spicer once, who was a person likely enough to lend himself to a scheme of this vile nature. Well, Peter, the information is most important, however questionable the means by which it has been acquired. The matter must be looked to ; but first, I want to learn a few particulars about Miss Saville's relations on the mother's side." I then proceeded with a string of questions furnished me by Mr. Pranipton, by the answers to which I ascertained, beyond a doubt. FRANK FAIRLEGH 351 that Clara was indeed liis niece, the orphan child of his favourite sister. Having established this point to my own satisfaction, and the unbounded delight of Peter Bamett, who at length began to entertain a not unreasonable hope that his pet day-dream of kicking Mr. Yemor out of Barstone Priory might, at some time or other, be realized. I said, " Now, Peter, I must somehow contrive to see your young mistress, and try to obtain her forgiveness ; but as I cannot say I managed the matter over-well the other day, I will put myself into yo\ir hands, to be guided by you entirely." " Ah ! I thought what was a-coming ; well, that is speaking sensible-like for once ; but do you think you could wi-ite anything as would persuade her to meet you ? She's precious angry, I'm afraid, with us both, and small blame to her either ; for hit ain't over- pleasant to be suspected when one's innocent, and she has a high spirit, bless her ! — she wouldn't be her father's own daughter if she hadn't." " I can write a few lines to her, and try," replied I mournfully, for the old man's words sounded like a death-knell to my hopes. " Come, don't be out of spirits, and downcasted-like, sir," urged Peter ; " suppose she did make up her mind shed give you the cold shoulder, she'd be sure to change it again to-morrow, women is such wersytile creeturs ; besides, she couldn't do it if she wanted to ; it would break her heart, I know. I wonder where she'd find such another sweetheart.'' " continued he, " sotto voce," as he turned to get the writing materials ; " good-looking, high-spirited, imcommon pleasant to talk to, six foot one if he's an inch, and as upright as if I'd had the drilling of him myself." With an eager yet trembling hand (for I was in such a state of agitation that I could scarcely write), I snatched a pen, and hastily scrawled the following words : — " Clara, will you — can you forgive me ? It is of the utmost importance that I should see you and speak to you without delay, if but for five minutes ; strange and unexpected things have come to light, and it is necessary for your happiness, nay even for your very safety, that you should be made acquainted with them. Clara, dearest Clara, grant me this boon, if not for my sake, for your own ; if you knew the misery, the agony of mind I have endured for the last two days, I think you would pity, would pardon me. " F. F." " There." said I, as I hastily sealed it, " I have done all I can, and if she will not see me, I shall be ready to go and blow Wilford's brains out first and my own aftei^wards. So, my good Peter, be off at once, for every moment seems an hour tiU I learn her decision." " Wait a bit, sir — wait a bit ; you haven't heard my plan yet. You can't set your foot in the park, for there's the keeper and two assistants on the look-out ; and if you could, you dare not show your nose in the house, for there's Muster Richard with his lovely black heyes a-setting in the liberary, and he's got eai-s like an 'are, besides 352 PRANK PAIRLEGH two or three o£ the aervants as would t^U him in a minute. No, this is the way I means to mana^^e— Miaa Clara j^enerally rides a- horseback evei-y day, and I rides behind her ; and before I came out, I ordered the horses as usual. So if she's ^Wiling to come, we'll go out at the back f?ate by the great oak, a quarter of a mile farther down this lane, and when we've got out of sight of the park paling you've nothing to do but set spm-s t