-GOVLDJ
 
 'fl 
 
 UBRART 
 
 OKIVIRilTY OF CALIFORNIA 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 In the Roar of the Sea 
 
 The Queen of Love 
 
 Cheap Jack Zita 
 
 Mrs. Curgenven of Curgenven 
 
 Arm IN ELL 
 
 Jacquetta 
 
 Urith 
 
 Kitty Alone 
 
 Margery of Quether 
 
 NotMi 
 
 The Broom-Squire 
 
 Dartmoor Idylls 
 
 GuAVAS the Tinner
 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 BY 
 
 S.*^BARING-GOULD 
 
 
 FOURTH EDITION 
 
 METHUEN & CO. 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET, W.C. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 1896

 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 I. BEFORE THE GALILEE 
 
 n. THE FLAILS 
 
 III. TWO CROWNS 
 
 IV. ON THE DROVE 
 
 V. THE FLAILS AG..\IN 
 VI. BETWEEN TWO LIGHTS 
 VII. PROFITS . 
 VIII. MARK RUNHAM 
 IX. PRICKWILLOW . 
 X. RED WI.NGS , 
 
 XI. TIGER-HAIR 
 XII. ON BONE RUNNERS 
 
 XIII. PIP BEAMISH 
 
 XIV. ON ONE FOOTING 
 
 XV. ON ANOTHER FOOTING 
 XVI. BURNT HATS 
 XVII. A CRAWL ABROAD 
 XVIII. A DROP OF GALL 
 
 I'ACE 
 I 
 
 13 
 23 
 
 33 
 
 44 
 
 57 
 
 63 
 
 76 
 
 88 
 
 100 
 
 112 
 
 122 
 
 131 
 
 140 
 150 
 161 
 
 174 
 188
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 XIX. NO DKAL 
 
 XX. DAGGINQ 
 
 XXI. THE FEN RIOTS 
 
 XXII. TWENTY POUNDS 
 
 XXIII. TEN POUNDS . 
 
 XXIV. A NEW DANGER 
 
 XXV. ' I don't care that 
 
 XXVI. A NIGHT IN ELY 
 
 XXVII. SIR bates Dudley's ride 
 XXVIII. two pleaders 
 
 XXIX. A deal 
 XXX. IN court 
 XXXI. PISGAU 
 XXXII. A PARTHIAN SHOT 
 
 XXXIII. PURGATORY . 
 
 XXXIV. WITH TOASTING-FORKS 
 XXXV. THE JACK O' LANTERNS 
 
 XXXVI. A RETURN BLOW 
 XXXVII. A CATHERINE WHEEL 
 XXXVIII. THE BRENT-GEESE 
 
 XXXIX. THE CUT EMBANKMENT 
 XL. THISTLES . . 
 
 PAGE 
 201 
 
 221 
 232 
 
 245 
 
 253 
 259 
 
 270 
 
 28 1 
 
 291 
 
 29s 
 
 3" 
 
 321 
 
 327 
 335 
 347 
 355 
 364 
 376 
 3S2 
 394
 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BEFORE THE GALILEE. 
 
 WHAT was the world coming to? The 
 world — the centre of it — the Isle of 
 Ely? 
 
 What aged man in his experience through 
 threescore years and ten had heard of such 
 conduct before ? 
 
 What local poet, whose effusions appeared 
 in the ' Cambridge and Ely Post,' in his wild- 
 est flights of imagination, conceived of such a 
 thing ? 
 
 Decency must have gone to decay and been 
 buried. Modesty must have unfurled her wings 
 and sped to heaven before such an event could 
 become possible. 
 
 Where were the constables ? Were bye-laws 
 to become dead letters ? Were order, propriety, 
 the eternal fitness of things, to be trampled under 
 foot by vagabonds ?
 
 2 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 In front of the cathedral, before the Galilee, 
 — the magnificent west porch of the minster of 
 St. Etheldreda, — a Cheap Jack's van was drawn 
 up. 
 
 Within twenty yards of the Bishop's palace, 
 where every word uttered was audible in every 
 room, a Cheap Jack was offering his wares. 
 
 Effrontery was, in heraldic language, rampant 
 and regardant. 
 
 A crowd was collected about the van ; a 
 crowd composed of all sorts and conditions 
 of men, jostling each other, trampling on the 
 grass of the lawn, climbing up the carved 
 work of the cathedral, to hear, to see, to bid, 
 to buy. 
 
 Divine service was hardly over. The organ 
 was still mumbling and tooting, when through 
 the west door came a drift of choristers, who 
 had flung off their surplices and had raced down 
 the nave, that they might bid against and outbid 
 each other for the pocket-knives offered by 
 Cheap Jack. 
 
 Mr. Faggs, the beadle, was striding in the 
 same direction, relaxing the muscles of his face 
 from the look of severe ecclesiastical solemnity 
 into which they were drawn during divine 
 worship. It had occurred to him during the 
 singing of the anthem that there were sundry 
 articles of domestic utility Cheap Jack was 
 selling that it might be well for him to secure at 
 a low figure.
 
 BEFORE THE GALILEE 3 
 
 Mr. Bowles, the chief bailiff, had come forth 
 from evensong with his soul lifted up with 
 thankfulness that he was not as other men were : 
 he attended the cathedral daily, he subscribed 
 to all the charities ; and now he stood looking on, 
 his breath taken away, his feet riveted to the 
 soil by surprise at the audacity of the Cheap 
 Jack, in daring to draw up before the minster, 
 and vend his wares during the hour of afternoon 
 prayer. 
 
 The servant maids in the canons' houses in 
 the Close had their heads craned out from such 
 narrow Gothic windows as would allow their 
 brachycephalic skulls to pass, and were listening 
 and lawk-a-mussying and oh-mying over the 
 bargains. 
 
 Nay, the Bishop himself was in an upper room, 
 the wM"ndow-sash of which was raised, ensconced 
 behind the curtain, with his ear open and cocked, 
 and he was laughing at what he heard till his 
 apron rippled, his bald head waxed pink, and 
 his calves quivered. 
 
 Very little of the sides of the van was visible, 
 so encrusted were they with brooms, brushes, 
 door-mats, tin goods, and coalscuttles. Between 
 these articles might be detected the glimmer of 
 the brimstone yellow of the carcase of the shop 
 on wheels. The front of the conveyance was 
 open ; it was festooned with crimson plush 
 curtains, drawn back ; and, deep in its depths 
 could be discerned racks and ranges of shelves,
 
 4 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 stored with goods of the most various and 
 inviting description. 
 
 The front of the van was so contrived as to 
 fall forward, and in so falling to disengage a pair 
 of supports that sustained it, and temporarily 
 converted it into a platform. On this platform 
 stood the Cheap Jack, a gaunt man with bushy 
 dark hair and sunken cheeks ; he was speaking 
 with a voice rendered hoarse by bellowing. He 
 was closely shaven. He wore drab breeches and 
 white stockings, a waistcoat figured with flowers, 
 and was in his shirt sleeves. On his head was 
 a plush cap, with flaps that could be turned up 
 or down as occasion served. When turned down, 
 that in front was converted into a peak that 
 .sheltered his eyes, those at the sides protected 
 his ears, and that behind prevented rain from 
 coursing down the nape of his neck. When, 
 however, these four lappets were turned up, they 
 transformed the cap into a crown — a crown such 
 as it behoved the King of Cheap Jacks to wear. 
 The man was pale and sallow, sweat-drops stood 
 on his brow, and it was with an effort that he 
 maintained the humour with which he engaged 
 the attention of his hearers, and that he made 
 his voice audible to those in the outermost ring 
 of the curious and interested clustered about the 
 van. Within, in the shadowed depths of the 
 conveyance, glimpses were obtained of a girl, 
 who moved about rapidly and came forward 
 occasionally to hand the Cheap Jack such articles
 
 BEFORE THE GALILEE 5 
 
 as he demanded, or to receive from him such as 
 had failed to command a purchaser. 
 
 When she appeared, it was seen that she was 
 a slender, well-built girl of about seventeen 
 summers, with ripe olive skin, a thick head of 
 short-cut chestnut hair, and a pair of hazel 
 eyes. 
 
 Apparently she was unmoved by her father's 
 jokes ; they provoked no smile on her lips, for 
 they were familiar to her ; and she was equally 
 unmoved by the admiration she aroused among 
 the youths, with which also she was apparently 
 familiar. 
 
 *Here now!' shouted the Cheap Jack. 'What 
 the dickens have I got ? — a spy-glass to be sure, 
 and such a spy-glass as never was and never will 
 be offered again. When I was a-comin' along 
 the road from Cambridge, and was five miles 
 off, "Tear and ages !" sez I, seein' your famous 
 cathedral standin' up in the sunshine, "Tear 
 and ages ! " sez I ; " that's a wonder of the world." 
 And I up wi' my spy-glass. Now look here. 
 You observe as 'ow one of the western wings be 
 fallen down. 'Tis told that when the old men 
 built up that there top storey to the tower, that 
 it throwed the left wing down. Now I looked 
 through this perspective glass, and I seed both 
 wings standing just as they used to be, and just 
 as they ought to be, but ain't. I couldn't take 
 less than seventeen and six for this here wonderful 
 spy-glass — seventeen and six. What ! not buy
 
 6 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 a glass as will show you how thnigs ought to be, 
 but ain't?' He turned to the circle round him 
 from side to side. 'Come now, — say ten 
 shillings. 'Tis a shame to take the perspective 
 glass out of Ely.' A pause. * No one inclined 
 to bid ten shillings ? Take it back, Zita, These 
 here Ely folk be that poor they can't go above 
 tenpence. Ten shillings soars above their 
 purses. But stay. Zita, give me that there 
 glass again. There is something more that is 
 wonderful about it. You look through and you'll 
 see what's to your advantage, and that's what 
 every one don't see wi' the naked eye. Come — 
 say seven shillings ! ' 
 
 No bid. 
 
 'And let me tell the ladies — they've but to 
 look through, and they'll see the him they've set 
 their 'arts on, comin', comin', — bloomin' as a rose, 
 and 'olding the wedding ring in 'is 'and.' 
 
 In went the heads of the servant maids of the 
 canons' residences. 
 
 * I say ! ' shouted one of the choristers, ' will it 
 show us a coming spanking?' 
 
 ' Of course it will,' answered the Cheap Jack, 
 ' because it's to your advantage.' 
 
 * Let us look then.' 
 
 Cheap Jack handed the telescope to the lad. 
 He put his eye to it, drew the glass out, lowered 
 it, and shouted, ' I see nothing.' 
 
 ' Of course not. You're such a darlin' good 
 boy ; you ain't going to have no spanking.'
 
 BEFORE THE GALILEE 7 
 
 * Let me look,' said a shop-girl standing by. 
 Cheap Jack waited. Every one watched. 
 
 * I don't see nothing,' said the girl. 
 
 ' Of course not. You ain't got a sweetheart, 
 and never will have one.* 
 
 A roar of laughter, and the young woman 
 retired in confusion. 
 
 * And, I say,' observed the boy, as he returned 
 the glass, ' it's all a cram about the fallen tran- 
 sept. I looked, and saw it was down.' 
 
 ' Of course you did,' retorted the Cheap Jack. 
 * Didn't I say five miles off? Go five miles 
 along the Wisbeach Road, and you'll see it 
 sure enough, as I said. There — five shillings 
 for it' 
 
 ' I'll give you half a crown.* 
 
 ' Half a crown ! ' jeered the vendor. ' There, 
 though, you're a quirister, and for the sake o' 
 your beautiful voice, and because you're such 
 a good boy, as don't deserve nor expect a 
 whacking, you shall have it for half a crown.' 
 
 The Bishop's nose and one eye were thrust 
 from behind the curtain. 
 
 '•Why,' said the Right Reverend to himself, 
 ' that's Tom Bulk, as mischievous a young 
 rogue as there is in the choir and grammar 
 school. He is as sure of a caning this week as 
 — as'— 
 
 ' Thanky, sir,' said Cheap Jack, pocketing the 
 half-crown. ' Zita, what next? Hand me that 
 blazin' crimson plush weskit.'
 
 8 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 From out the dark interior stepped the girl, 
 and the sunshine flashed over her, Hghting her 
 auburn hair, rich as burnished copper. She 
 wore a green, scarlet, and yellow flowered ker- 
 chief, tied across her bosom, and knotted behind 
 her back. Bound round her waist was a white 
 apron. 
 
 She deigned no glance at the throng, but 
 kept her eyes fixed on her father's face. 
 
 ' Are you better, dad ? ' she asked in a low 
 tone. 
 
 ' Not much, Zit. But I'll go through with it.' 
 
 * Here we are now ! * shouted the Jack, after 
 he had drawn the sleeve of his left arm across 
 his brow and lips, that were bathed in perspira- 
 tion. And yet the weather was cold ; the 
 season was the end of October, and the occasion 
 of the visit of the van to Ely was Tawdry (St. 
 Etheldreda's) Fair. 
 
 A whisper and nudges passed among the 
 young men crowded about the van. 
 
 ' Ain't she just a stunner? ' 
 
 ' I say, I wish the Cheap Jack would put up 
 the girl to sale. Wouldn't there be bidding?' 
 
 'She's the finest thing about the caravan.' 
 
 Such were comments that flew from one to 
 another. 
 
 * Now, then ! ' bellowed the vendor of cheap 
 wares ; * here you are again ! A red velvet 
 weskit, with splendid gold — real gold — buttons. 
 You shall judge ; Fll put it on.*
 
 BEFORE THE GALILEE 9 
 
 The man suited the action to the word. Then 
 he straightened his legs and arms, and turned 
 himself about from side to side to exhibit the 
 full beauty of the vestment from every quarter. 
 
 * Did you ever see the like of this ? ' he shouted, 
 'But them breeches o' mine have a sort o' 
 deadening effect on the beauty of the weskit. 
 Thirty shillings is the price. You should see it 
 along with a black frock-coat and black trousers. 
 Then it's glorious ! It's something you can 
 wear with just what you likes. No one looks 
 at rags when you've this on, so took up is they 
 with the weskit. What is that you said, sir? 
 Twenty-five shillings was your offer? It is 
 yours — and all because I sees it'll go with them 
 great black whiskers of yours like duck and 
 green peas. It'll have a sort of a mellering effect 
 on their bushiness, and 'armonise with them as 
 well as the orging goes wi' the chanting of the 
 quiristers.' 
 
 Jack handed the waistcoat, which he had 
 hastily plucked off his back, to one of the lay- 
 clerks of the cathedral. The man turned as 
 red as the waistcoat, and thrust his hands 
 behind his back. 
 
 * I never bid for it,' he protested. 
 
 *Beg pardon, sir ; I thought you nodded your 
 'ead to me, but it was the wind a-blowin' of it 
 about. That gentleman with the black flowin' 
 whiskers don't take the weskit ; it is still for 
 sale. I'll let you have it for fifteen shillings,
 
 lo CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 and it'll make you a conquering hero among 
 the females. You, sir? Here you are.' 
 
 He addressed the chief bailiff, Mr. Bowles, an 
 elderly, white-whiskered, semi-clerical official, 
 the pink and paragon of propriety. 
 
 'No!' exclaimed Cheap Jack, as Mr. Bowles, 
 with uplifted palms and averted head, staggered 
 back. ' No — his day is past. But I can see by 
 the twinkle of his eye he was the devil among 
 the gals twenty years ago. It's the young chaps 
 who must compete for the weskit. I'll tell you 
 something rare,' continued the man, after clear- 
 ing his throat and mopping his brow and lips. 
 ' No one will think but what you're a lord or a 
 harchbishop when you 'ave this 'ere weskit on. 
 As I was a-coming into Ely in this here concern, 
 sez I to myself, " I'll put on an appearance out 
 o' respect to this ancient and venerable city." 
 So I drawed on this weskit ; and what should 
 'appen but we meets his most solemn and sacred 
 lordship, the Bishop of the diocese.' 
 
 * This is coming it rather strong,' said the 
 person alluded to behind the curtain, and his 
 face and head became hot and damp. 
 
 ' Well, and when his lordship, the Right 
 Reverend, saw me, he lifted up his holy eyes 
 and looked at my weskit. And then sez he to 
 himself, " Lawk-a-biddy, it's the Prince ! " and 
 down he went in the dirt afore me, grovellin' 
 with his nose in the mire. He did, upon my 
 word.'
 
 BEFORE THE GALILEE ii 
 
 * Upon my word, this is monstrous ! this is 
 insufferable ! A joke is a joke ! ' gasped the 
 Bishop, very much agitated. ' There's modera- 
 tion in all things — a limitation to be observed 
 even in exaggeration, I haven't been on the 
 Wisbeach Road this fortnight. I never saw the 
 man. I never went down in the dirt. This is 
 positively appalling ! ' 
 
 He took a turn round the room, went to the 
 bell, then considered that it would be inadvis- 
 able to summon the footman and show that he 
 had been listening to the nonsense of a Cheap 
 Jack. Accordingly he went back to the window, 
 hid himself once more behind the curtain, but 
 so trembled with excitement and distress, that 
 the whole curtain trembled with him. 
 
 ' Nine and six. Here you are. Nine and six 
 for this splendid garment, and cheap it is — dirt 
 cheap. You're a lucky man, sir ; and won't you 
 only cut out your rivals with the darling ? ' 
 
 Cheap Jack handed the plush waistcoat to a 
 young farmer from the Fens ; then suddenly he 
 turned himself about, looked into his van, and 
 said in a husky voice — 
 
 ' Zit, I can't go yarning no longer. I've got 
 to the end of my powers ; you carry on.' 
 
 ' Right, father ; I'm the boy for you with the 
 general public' 
 
 The man stepped within. As he did so, the 
 girl lowered one of the curtains so as to conceal 
 him. He sank wearily on a bench at the side.
 
 12 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 She stooped with a quivering lip and filling eye 
 and kissed him, then sprang forward and stood 
 outside on the platform, contemplating the 
 crowd with a look of assurance, mingled with 
 contempt
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FLAILS. 
 
 * IV T OW, here's a chance you may never have 
 ..Nl again — a chance, let me tell you, you 
 
 never will have again.' She extended in both 
 hands packages of tea done up in silvered paper. 
 
 * The general public gets cheated in tea — it does 
 — tremenjous ! It is given sloe leaves, all kinds 
 of rubbish, and pays for it a fancy price. Father, 
 he has gone and bought a plantation out in 
 China, and has set over it a real mandarin with 
 nine tails, and father guarantees that this tea 
 is the very best of our plantation teas, and he 
 sells it at a price which puts it within the reach 
 of all. Look here ! ' she turned a parcel about ; 
 'here you are, with the mandarin's own seal 
 upon it, to let every one know it is genuine, 
 and that it is the only genuine tea sent over.' 
 
 ' Where's the plantation, eh, girl ? ' jeered a 
 boy from the grammar school. 
 
 * Where is it ? ' answered the girl, turning 
 sharply on her interlocutor. ' It's at Fumchoo. 
 
 13
 
 14 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Do you know where Fumchoo is? You don't? 
 and yet you sets up to be a scholar. It is fifteen 
 miles from Pekin by the high road, and seven 
 and a half over the fields. Go to school and 
 look at your map, and tell your master he ought 
 to be ashamed of himself not to ha' made you 
 know your geography better. Now, then, here's 
 your chance. Finest orange-flower Pekoe at 
 four shillings. Beat that if you can.' No offers. 
 ' I am not coming down in my price. Don't 
 think that ; not a farthing. Four shillings a 
 pound ; but I'll try to meet you in another way. 
 I keep the tea in quarter-pound parcels as well. 
 Perhaps that'll meet your views — and a beauti- 
 ful pictur' of Fumchoo on the cover, with the 
 Chinamen a-picking of the tea leaves. What ! 
 no bidder?' 
 
 There ensued a pause. Every one expected 
 that the girl would lower the price. They were 
 mistaken. She went back into the van and 
 produced a roll of calico. Then ensued an 
 outcry of many voices : * Tea ! give us some of 
 your tea, please.' In ten minutes she had dis- 
 posed of all she had. 
 
 * There, you see,' said Zita, * our supply runs 
 short. In Wisbeach the Mayor and Corpora- 
 tion bought it, and at Cambridge all the colleges 
 had their supplies from us. That's why we're 
 run out now. Stand back, gents.' 
 
 This call was one of caution to the eager 
 purchasers and tempted lookers-on.
 
 THE FLAILS 15 
 
 Tawdry Fair was for horses and bullocks, 
 and a drove of the latter was being sent along 
 from the market-place towards Stuntney. For 
 a while the business of the sale was interrupted. 
 One audacious bullock even bounded into the 
 Galilee, another careered round the van ; one 
 ran as if for sanctuary to the Bishop's palace. 
 Zita seized the occasion to slip inside the van. 
 Her father was on the low seat, leaning his head 
 wearily on his hand, and his elbow on his knee. 
 
 ' How are you now, dad ? ' 
 
 * I be bad, Zit — bad — tremenjous.' 
 ' Had you not best see a doctor? ' 
 He shook his head. 
 
 ' It'll pass,' said he ; * I reckon doctors won't 
 do much for me. They're over much like us 
 Cheap Jacks — all talk and trash.' 
 
 'This has been coming on some time,' 
 observed the girl gravely. ' I've seen for a 
 fortnight you have been poorly.' 
 
 Then, looking forth between the curtains 
 which she had lowered, she saw that the 
 bullocks were gone, and that the cluster of 
 people interested in purchases had re-formed 
 round her little stage. 
 
 * I say,' shouted a chorister, ' have you got 
 any pocket-knives ? ' 
 
 ' Pocket-knives by the score, and razors too. 
 You'll be wanting a pair of them in a fortnight.' 
 
 Whilst Zita was engaged in furnishing the 
 lads with knives, the Bishop retired from the
 
 i6 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 upstairs window to his library, where he seated 
 himself in an easy-chair, took up a pamphlet, 
 and went up like a balloon inflated with elastic 
 gas into theologic clouds, where controversy 
 flashed and thundered about his head, and in 
 this, his favourite sphere, the Right Reverend 
 Father forgot all about the Cheap Jack, and no 
 longer felt concern at his having been misre- 
 presented as grovelling before a prince of the 
 blood royal in a red waistcoat. 
 
 At the same time, also, a plot concerning Zita 
 was being entered into by a number of young 
 fenmen who had come to Tawdry Fair to amuse 
 themselves, and had been arrested by the attrac- 
 tions of the Cheap Jack's van. 
 
 Whatever those attractions might have been 
 whilst the man was salesman, they were 
 enhanced tenfold when his place was occupied 
 by his daughter. Some whispering had gone 
 on for five minutes, and then with one consent 
 they began to elbow their way forward till they 
 had formed an innermost ring around the 
 platform. But this centripetal movement had 
 not been executed without difficulty and protest. 
 Women, boys, burly men were forced to give 
 way before the wedge-like thrusts inwards of 
 the young men's shoulders, and they remon- 
 strated, the women shrilly, the boys by shouts, 
 the men with oaths and blows. But every sort 
 of resistance was overcome, all remonstrances 
 of whatever sort were disregarded, and Zita
 
 THE FLAILS 17 
 
 suddenly found herself surrounded by a circle 
 of sturdy, tall fellows, looking up with faces 
 expressive of mischief. 
 
 That something more than eagerness to 
 purchase was at the bottom of this movement 
 struck Zita, and for a moment she lost con- 
 fidence, and faltered in her address on the 
 excellence of some moth-eaten cloth she was 
 endeavouring to sell. 
 
 Then one round-faced, apple-complexioned 
 young man worked himself up by the wheel 
 of the van, and, planting his elbows on the 
 platform, shouted, * Come, my lass, at what 
 price do you sell kisses ? ' 
 
 * We ha'n't got them in the general stock,' 
 answered Zita; 'but I'll ask father if he'll give 
 you one.' 
 
 A burst of laughter. 
 
 ' No, no,' shouted the red-faced youth, getting 
 one knee on the stage. ' I'll pay you sixpence 
 for a kiss — slick off your cherry lips.' 
 
 ' I don't sell.' 
 
 ' Then I'll have one as a gift.' 
 
 * I never give away nothing.' 
 ' Then I'll steal one.' 
 
 The young fellow jumped to his feet on the 
 platform. At the signal the rest of the youths 
 began to scramble up, and in a minute the place 
 was invaded, occupied, and the girl surrounded. 
 Cheers and roars of laughter rose from the 
 spectators. 
 2
 
 i8 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' Now, then, you Cheap Jack girl,' exclaimed 
 the apple-faced youth. ' Kisses all round, three 
 a-piece, or we'll play Old Harry with the shop, 
 and help ourselves to its contents.' 
 
 The father of Zita, on hearing the uproar, 
 the threats, the tramp of boots on the stage, 
 staggered to his feet, and, drawing back the 
 curtains, stood holding them apart, and looking 
 forth with bewildered eyes. Zita turned and 
 saw him. 
 
 'Sit down, father,' said she. 'It's only the 
 general public on a frolic' 
 
 She put her hand within and drew forth a 
 stout ashen flail, whirled it about her head, and 
 at once, like grasshoppers, the youths leaped 
 from the stage, each fearing lest the flapper 
 should fall on and cut open his own pate. 
 The last to spring was the apple-faced youth ; 
 he was endeavouring to find some free space 
 into which to descend, when the flapper of the 
 flail came athwart his shoulder-blades with so 
 sharp a stroke, that, uttering a howl, he plunged 
 among the throng, and would have knocked 
 down two or three, had they not been wedged 
 together too closely to be upset. 
 
 Then ensued cries from those hurt by his 
 weight as he floundered upon them ; cries of 
 * Now, then, what do you mean by this ? Can't 
 you keep to yourself? This comes of your 
 nonsense.' 
 
 Zita stood erect, leaning on the staff of the
 
 THE FLAILS 19 
 
 flail, looking calmly round on the confusion, 
 waiting till the uproar ceased, that she might 
 resume business. As she thus stood, her eye 
 rested on a tall, well-shaped man, with a tiger's 
 skin cast over his broad shoulders, and with a 
 black felt slouched hat on his head. His nose 
 was like the beak of a hawk. His eyes were 
 dark, piercing, and singularly close together, 
 under brows that met in one straight band 
 across his forehead. 
 
 The moment this man's eye caught that of 
 Zita, he raised his great hat, flourished it in 
 the air, exposing a shaggy head with long dark 
 locks, and he shouted, * Well done, girl ! I like 
 that. Give me a pair of them there ashen flails, 
 and here's a crown for your pluck.' 
 
 ' I haven't a pair,' said the girl. 
 
 ' Then I'll have that one, with which a little 
 gal of sixteen has licked our Fen louts. I like 
 that' 
 
 ' I'll give you a crown for that flail,' called 
 another man, from the farther side of the crowd. 
 * Here you are — a crown.' 
 
 This man was fair, with light whiskers — a 
 tall man as well as the other, and about the 
 same age. 
 
 ' I'll give you seven shillings and six — a 
 crown and half a crown for that flail,' roared 
 the dark man. ' I bid first— I want that flail.' 
 
 'Two crowns — ten shillings,' called the fair 
 man. * I can make a better offer than Drown-
 
 20 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 lands — not as I want the flail, but as Drown- 
 lands wants it, he shan't have it' 
 
 'Twelve and six,' roared the dark man. 
 'Gold's no object with me. What I wants I 
 will have.' 
 
 The lookers-on nudged each other. A young 
 farmer said to his fellow, ' Them chaps, Runham 
 and Drownlands, be like two tigers ; when they 
 meet they must fight. We shall have fun.' 
 
 * You are a fool ! ' shouted the fair man, — ' a 
 fool — that is what I think you are, to give 
 twelve and six for what isn't worth two shillings. 
 I'll let you have it at that price, that you may 
 become the laughing-stock of the Fens.' 
 
 The flail was handed out of the van to the 
 man called Drownlands, Zita received a piece 
 of gold and half a crown in her palm. She 
 retired into the waggon, and immediately re- 
 appeared with a second flail. 
 
 ' Here is another, after all,' said she ; ' I didn't 
 think I had it' 
 
 ' I'll take that to make the pair,' said Drown- 
 lands ; ' but as you've done me over the first, 
 I think you should give me this one.' 
 
 'I done you!' exclaimed Zita; 'you've done 
 yourself.' 
 
 'She's right there,' observed a man in the 
 crowd. 'Them tigers — Runham and Drown- 
 lands — would fight about a straw.' 
 
 ' Are you going to hand me over that flail ? ' 
 asked the dark purchaser.
 
 THE FLAILS 21 
 
 ZIta remained for a moment undecided. She 
 had in verity made an unprecedented price with 
 the first, and she was half inchncd to surrender 
 the second gratis, but to give and receive nothing- 
 was against the moral code of Cheap Jacks from 
 the beginning of Cheap Jacking. Whilst she 
 hesitated, holding the flail in suspense, and with 
 a finger on her lips, the fair man yelled out — 
 
 ' Don't let the blackguard have it. I'll have 
 it to spoil the pair for him, and for no other 
 reason.' 
 
 'I will have it, you scoundrel!' howled the 
 dark man. * I have as much gold as ever you 
 have. I don't care what I spend. Here, girl ! 
 a crown to begin with.' 
 
 ' Seven and six,' shouted Runham. 
 
 'Ten shillings,' cried Drownlands. 
 
 ' Fitteen shillings ! ' exclaimed the fair man. 
 Then, seeing that his rival was about to bid, he 
 yelled, ' A guinea ! ' at the same moment that 
 the other called, * A pound ! * 
 
 ' It is yours,' said the girl to the man 
 Runham, and she handed him the flail. She 
 saw that the passions of the two men were 
 roused, and she deemed it desirable to close 
 the scene, lest a fight should ensue, in which, 
 possibly, she might lose the money that had 
 been offered. 
 
 Runham, flourishing his flail over his head, 
 and throwing out the flapper in the direction 
 of Drownlands, said, ' There, now ! Who can
 
 Z2 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 say but what I'm the best off of the two? 
 Mine cost me a guinea, and his beggarly flail 
 not above twelve and six. I am the better man 
 of the two by eight and six.' 
 
 He felt in his pockets and drew forth a 
 guinea. 
 
 'There, you Cheap Jack girl — here's j'our 
 money all in gold. I'm the better man of the 
 two by eight and six. I've beat Drovvnlands 
 like a gentleman.' 
 
 Some one looking on in the crowd said, * A 
 pair o' flails and a pair o' fools at the end o' 
 them, as don't know what is the vally o' their 
 money. Never since the creation of the world 
 was flails sold at that price, and never will be 
 again.' 
 
 'And never would have been, or never could 
 have been, anywhere but among fen - tigers,' 
 said another. 
 
 ' I'll tell'y what,' observed the first ; ' this ain't 
 the end o' the story.' 
 
 'No — I guess not. It's the bcginnin' rather 
 of a mighty queer talc.
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 TWO CROWNS. 
 
 A STRANGELY interesting city is Ely. 
 Unique in its way is the metropolis of 
 the Fens ; wonderful exceeding it must have 
 been in the olden times when the fen-land was 
 one great inland sea, studded at wide intervals 
 with islets as satellites about the great central 
 isle of Ely. It was a scene that impressed the 
 imagination of our forefathers. Stately is the 
 situation of Durham, that occupies a tongue of 
 land between ravines. It has its own unique 
 and royal splendour. But hardly if at all 
 inferior, though very different, is the situation 
 of Ely. The fens extend on all sides to the 
 horizon, flat as the sea, and below the sea level. 
 If the dykes were broken through, or the steam 
 pumps and windmills ceased to work, all would 
 again, in a twelvemonth, revert to its primitive 
 condition of a vast inland sea, out of which 
 would rise the marl island of Ely, covered with 
 buildings amidst tufted trees, reflecting them- 
 
 2i
 
 24 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 selves in the stili water as in a glass. Above 
 the roofs, above the tree-tops, soars that glorious 
 cathedral, one of the very noblest, certainly one 
 of the most beautiful, in England — nay, let it 
 be spoken boldly — in the whole Christian world. 
 It stands as a beacon seen from all parts of the 
 Fens, and it is the pride of the Fens. 
 
 Ely owes its origin to a woman — St. Ethel- 
 dreda — flying from a rude, dissolute, and drunken 
 court. She was the wife first of Tombert, a 
 Saxon prince in East Anglia, then of Egfrid of 
 Northumbria. Sick of the coarse revelry, the 
 rude manners of a Saxon court, Etheldreda fled 
 and hid herself in the isle of Ely, where she 
 would be away from men and alone with God 
 and wild, beautiful nature. 
 
 Whatever we may think of the morality of 
 a wife deserting her post at the side of her 
 husband, of a queen abandoning her position in 
 a kingdom, we cannot, perhaps, be surprised at 
 it. A tender, gentle-spirited woman after a 
 while sickened of the brutality of the ways of 
 a Saxon court, its drunkenness and savagery, 
 and fled that she might find in solitude that 
 rest for her weary soul and overstrained nerves 
 she could not find in the Northumbrian palace. 
 This was in the year ^J^. Then this islet was 
 unoccupied. It has been supposed that it takes 
 its name from the eels that abounded round it ; 
 we are, perhaps, more correct in surmising that 
 it was originally called the Elf-isle, the islet
 
 TWO CROWNS 25 
 
 inhabited by the mythic spiritual beings who 
 danced in the moonlight and sported over the 
 waters of the meres. 
 
 This lovely island, covered with woods, sur- 
 rounded by a fringe of water-lilies, gold and 
 silver, floating far out as a lace about it, became 
 the seat of a great monastery. Monks succeeded 
 the elves. 
 
 King Canute, the Dane, was seized with ad- 
 miration for Ely, loved to visit it in his barge, 
 or come to it over the ice. It is said that one 
 Candlemas Day, when, as was his wont. King 
 Canute came towards EI3', he found the meres 
 overflowed and frozen. A 'ceorl' named Brith- 
 mer led the way for Canute's sledge over the 
 ice, proving the thickness cf the ice by his 
 own weight. For this service his lands were 
 enfranchised. 
 
 On another occasion the king passed the isle 
 in his barge, and over the still and glassy water 
 came the strains of the singing in the minster. 
 Whereupon the king composed a song, of which 
 only the first stanza has been preserved, that 
 may be modernised thus : — 
 
 ' Merry sang the monks of Ely 
 As King Knut came rowing by. 
 Oarsmen, row the land more near 
 That I may hear their song more clear,' 
 
 Ely, although it be a city, is yet but a village. 
 The houses are few, seven thousand inhabitants 
 is the population, it has two or three parish
 
 26 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 churches, and the cathedral, the longest in 
 Christendom, The houses are of brick or of 
 plaster ; and a curious custom exists in Ely of 
 encrusting the plaster with broken glass, so 
 that a house-front sparkles in the sun as though 
 frosted. All the roofs are tiled. The cathedral 
 is constructed of stone quarried in Northamp- 
 tonshire, and brought in barges to the isle. 
 
 Ely possesses no manufactures, has almost no 
 neighbourhood, stands solitary and self-con- 
 tained. On some sides it rises rapidly from 
 the fen, on others it slopes easily down. A 
 singular effect is produced when the white mists 
 hang over the fen-land for miles and miles, and 
 the sun glitters on the island city. Then it is 
 as an enchanted isle of eternal spring, lost in a 
 wilderness of level snow. Or again, on a night 
 when the auroral lights flicker over the heavens, 
 here red, there silvery, and against the glowing 
 skies towers up this isle crowned with its mighty 
 cathedral, then, verily, it is as though it were a 
 scene in some fairy tale, some magic creation of 
 Eastern fantasy. 
 
 A girl was sauntering through the wide, 
 grass-grown streets of Ely. During the fair 
 the streets were full of people — nay, full is not 
 the word — were occupied by people more or 
 less scattered about them. It would take a 
 vast throng, such as the fens of Cambridgeshire 
 cannot supply, toy?// these wide spaces. 
 
 The girl was tall and handsome, rather mas-
 
 TWO CROWNS 27 
 
 culine, with a cheerful face. She had very fair 
 hair, a bright complexion, and eyes of a dazzling 
 blue — a blue as of the sea when rippling and 
 sparkling in the midsummer sun. She was 
 plainly dressed in serge of dark navy blue, 
 with white kerchief about her neck, a chip hat- 
 bonnet and blue ribbons in it. Her skirts were 
 somewhat short, they exposed neat ankles in 
 stockings white as snow, and strong shoes. A 
 fen-girl must wear strong shoes, she cannot have 
 gloves on her feet. 
 
 'Jimminy!' said the girl, as she turned her 
 pocket inside out. ' Not one penny ! Poor 
 Kainie is the only girl at the fair without a 
 sweetheart, the only child without a fairing. 
 No one to treat me! Nothing to be got for 
 nothing. Jimminy ! I don't care.' Then she 
 began to sing : — 
 
 * Last night the dogs did bark, 
 I went to the gate to see. 
 When every lass had her spark, 
 But nobody comes to me. 
 And it's Oh dear ! what will become of me ? 
 
 Oh dear, what shall I do? 
 Nobody coming to marry me, 
 Nobody coming to woo. 
 
 My father's a hedger and ditcher, 
 
 My mother does nothing but spin. 
 And I am a pretty young girl. 
 
 But the money comes slowly in ' — 
 
 Then suddenly she confronted the fair-haired 
 farmer Runham, coming out of a tavern, with
 
 28 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the flail over his shoulder. A little disconcerted 
 at encountering him, she paused in her song, 
 but soon recovered herself, and began again at 
 the interrupted verse : — 
 
 * Tvly father's a hedger and ditcher, 
 My mother ' — 
 
 ' Kainie ! Are you beside yourself, singing 
 like a ballad-monger in the open street?' 
 
 The man's face was red, whether with drink, 
 or that the sight of the girl had brought the 
 colour into his face, Kainie could not say. His 
 breath smelt of spirits, and she turned her head 
 away. 
 
 'It's all nonsense,' she said. 'My mother is 
 dead — is dead — and I am alone. I don't knovv^, 
 I don't see why I should not sing ; I want a 
 fairing, and have no money. I'll go along 
 singing, " My lather's a hedger and ditcher," 
 and then some charitable folk will throw me 
 coppers, and I shall get a little money and buy 
 myself a fairing.' 
 
 * For heaven's sake, do nothing of the kind. 
 Here — rather than that — here is a crown. 
 Take that. What would the Commissioners 
 say if they were told that you went a ballad- 
 singing in the streets of Ely at Tawdry Fair? 
 They would turn you out of your mill. I am 
 sure they would. Here, Kainie, conduct your- 
 self respectably, and take a crown.* 
 
 He pressed the large silver coin into lier 
 hand, and hurried away.
 
 TWO CROWNS 29 
 
 'That's brave !' exclaimed the girl, snapping 
 her fingers. 'Now I can buy my fairing. 
 Now, all I want is a lover. 
 
 " Nobody coming to marry me, 
 Nobody coming to woo ! " 
 
 Jimminy ! I must not do that ! I've taken a 
 crown to be mum. Now I'm a young person 
 of respectability — I've money in my pocket. 
 Now I must look about me and see what to 
 buy. I'll go to the Cheap Jack. How do you 
 do, uncle?' 
 
 She addressed the dark-haired man Drown- 
 lands, who had just turned the corner, with his 
 fiail over his shoulder. He scowled at the girl, 
 and would have passed her without a word, but 
 to this she would not consent. 
 
 ' See ! see ! ' said she, holding up the crown 
 she had received. ' I was just going along 
 sighing and weeping because I had no money, 
 not a farthing in my pocket, not a lover at my 
 side to buy me anything. Then came some 
 one and gave me this — look, Uncle Drownlands ! 
 Five shillings ! ' 
 
 * So — going in bad ways ? ' 
 
 'What is the harm? I was ballad-singing. 
 Then he came and gave me a crown.' 
 
 ' You ballad-singing ! ' 
 
 ' Yes ; how else can I get money ? I'm a poor 
 girl, owned by nobody, for whom nobody cares.' 
 
 * You will bring disgrace — deeper disgrace on 
 the family — on the name.'
 
 30 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'Not I; I'm honest. If I am given five 
 shillings, may I not receive it? Master Run- 
 ham gave me the money to make me shut my 
 mouth. I was singing 
 
 "My father's a hcdger and ditcher, 
 My mother'"— 
 
 * For heaven's sake, silence ! ' said Drownlands 
 angrily. * If you will hold your tongue, I will 
 give you a couple of shillings.' 
 
 *A couple of shillings! And I'm your own 
 niece, and have your name.' 
 
 * More shame to you — to your mother ! ' ex- 
 claimed the farmer bitterly. 
 
 The girl suddenly dropped her head, and her 
 brow became crimson. 
 
 * Not a word about my dear mother — not a 
 stone thrown at her,' she said in a low tone. 
 
 * Well, no ballad-singing. Take heed to your- 
 self. You are wild and careless.' 
 
 ' Much you think of me 1 much you care for 
 me!' 
 
 ' Begone ! You are a disgrace to me — your 
 existence is a disgrace. Take a crown and 
 spend it properly. You shall have nothing 
 more from me. As Runham gave you five 
 shillings, it shall not be said that I gave you 
 less.' 
 
 He handed her the coin, and with a scowl 
 passed on. 
 
 Kainie remained for a moment musing, with 
 lowered eyes. Then she raised her head, shook
 
 TWO CROWNS 31 
 
 it, as though to shake off the sadness, the 
 humihation that had come on her with the 
 words of Drownlands, and hummed — 
 
 'Nobody coming to marry me, 
 Nobody coming to woo.' 
 
 'What! Kainie!' 
 
 The words were those of a young man, 
 heavy-browed, pale, somewhat gaunt, with long 
 arms. 
 
 'Oh, Pip!— Pip!— Pip!' 
 
 'What is the matter, Kainie?' 
 
 •Pip, I'm the only girl here without her 
 young man. It is terrible — terrible ; and see, 
 Pip, I've got two crowns to spend, and I don't 
 know what to spend them on. There is too 
 much money here for sweetie stuff; and as for 
 smart ribbons and bonnets and such like, it is 
 only just about once in the year I can get away 
 from the mill and come into town and show 
 myself. It does seem a waste to spend a couple 
 of crowns on dress, when no one can see me 
 rigged out in it. What shall I do, Pip?— you 
 wise, you sensible, you dear Pip.' 
 
 The young man, Ephraim Beamish, con- 
 sidered ; then he said — 
 
 * Kainie, I don't like your being alone in Red 
 Wings. Times are queer. Times will be worse. 
 There is trouble before us in the Fens. Things 
 cannot go on as they are — the labouring men 
 ground down under the heels of the farmers, 
 who are thriving and waxing fat. I don't like
 
 32 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 you to be alone in the windmill ; you sliuulti 
 have some protector. Now, look here. I've 
 been to that Cheap Jack van, and there's a big 
 dog there the Cheap Jackies want to sell, but 
 there has been no bid. Take my advice, offer 
 the two crowns for that great dog, and take him 
 home with you. Then I shall be easy ; and 
 now I am not that. You are too lonely — and a 
 good-looking girl like you ' — 
 
 ' Pip, I'll have the dog.' She tossed the coins 
 into the air. ' Here, crownies, you go for a bow- 
 wow.'
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ON THE DROVE. 
 
 THERE is not in all England — there is 
 hardly in the world — any tract of country 
 more depressing to the spirits, more void of 
 elements of loveliness, than the Cambridgeshire 
 Fens as they now are. 
 
 In former days, when they were under water 
 — a haunt of wildfowl, a wilderness of lagoons, 
 a paradise of wild-flowers — when they teemed 
 with fish and swarmed with insect life of every 
 kind — when the eys or islets, Stuntney, Shipey, 
 Southconey, Welney, were the sole objects that 
 broke the horizon, rising out of the marshes, 
 rich with forest-trees — then the Fens were full of 
 charm, because given over to Nature. But the 
 industry of man has changed the character and 
 aspect of the Fens. The meres have been 
 pumped dry, the bogland has been drained. 
 Where the fowler used to boat after wild duck, 
 now turnips are hoed ; where the net was drawn 
 by the fisherman, there wave cornfields. 
 3
 
 34 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 o 
 
 111 former times, for five-and-twenty miles 
 north of Ely, one rippling lake extended, and 
 men went by boat over it to tlie sand-dune that 
 divided it from the sea at King's Lynn. To the 
 west a mighty mere stretched from Ely to 
 Peterborough. To the east lay a tangle of lake 
 and channel, of marsh and islet. 
 
 Until about a hundred years ago, men lived in 
 houses erected on platforms sustained upon piles 
 above the level of the water. Walls and roofs 
 of these habitations were thatched and wattled 
 with reeds. From the door a ladder conducted 
 to a boat. In these houses there were hearths, 
 but no chimneys. The smoke escaped as best 
 it might through the thatch, or under the gables. 
 During the winter the fen-men picked up a 
 livelihood fishing and fowling. In summer they 
 cultivated such patches of peat soil as appeared 
 above the surface of the water. There were no 
 roads ; men went from place to place by water, 
 in boats or on skates. 
 
 In the reign of James I. Ben Jonson wrote 
 his play 'The Devil is an Ass.' Into this 
 play he introduced a speculator — a starter of 
 bogus companies, by name Meercraft, and one 
 of this man's schemes was the draining of the 
 Fens. 
 
 The thing is for recovery of drown'd land, 
 Whereof the Crown's to have a moiety, 
 If it be owner ; else the Crown and owners 
 To sha.re that moiety, and the recoverers
 
 ON THE DROVE 35 
 
 To enjoy the t'other moiety for their charge, 
 
 . which will arise 
 To eighteen millions, seven the first year. 
 I have computed all, and made my survey 
 Unto an acre ; I'll begin at the pan. 
 Not at the skirts, as some have done, and lost 
 All that they wrought, their timberwork, their trench, 
 Their banks, all borne away, or else filled up 
 By the next winter. Tut I they never went 
 The (right) way. I'll have it all. 
 
 A gallant tract of land it is ; 
 'Twill yield a pound an acre ; 
 We must let cheap ever at first.' 
 
 Jonson introduced this Meercraft as a caution 
 to the people of his day against being induced 
 to sink money in such ventures, which he re- 
 garded as impossible of realisation. Never- 
 theless, what Jonson disbelieved in has been 
 accomplished. The work begun in 1630, was 
 interrupted by the Civil Wars, resumed after- 
 wards, was carried on at considerable outlay and 
 with great perseverance, till at the beginning of 
 the present century the complete recovery of 
 the Fens was an accomplished fact. 
 
 Great was the cost of the undertaking, and 
 those who had invested in it wearied of the 
 calls on their purses ; land, or rather water, 
 owners were discouraged, and were ready to 
 part with rights and possessions that hardly 
 fetched a shilling an acre, and which instead of 
 being drained itself seemed to be draining their 
 pockets. Long-headed fen-men saw their ad- 
 vantage, and bought eagerly where the owners
 
 36 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 sold eagerly. The new canals carried off the 
 water, the machines set in operation discharged 
 the drainage into the main conduits, and soil 
 that for centuries had been worthless became 
 auriferous. No more magnificent corn-growing 
 land was to be found in England. None in 
 Europe might compare with it, save the delta of 
 the Danube and the richest alluvial tracts in 
 South Russia. The fen-men made their fortunes 
 before they had learned what to do with the 
 fortunes they made. Money came faster than 
 they found means to spend it. 
 
 To this day many of the wealthiest owners 
 are sons or grandsons of half-wild fen-slodgers. 
 There are no villages in the Fens apart from 
 such as are clustered on widely dispersed islets. 
 There are no old picturesque farmhouses and 
 cottages. Everything is new and ugly. There 
 are no hedges, no walls, for there is no stone in 
 the country. There are no trees, save a few 
 willows and an occasional ash, from whose roots 
 the soil has shrunk. The surface of the land 
 is sinking. As the fen is drained, the spongy 
 soil contracts, and sinks at the rate of two 
 inches in the year. Consequently houses built 
 on piles are left after fifty years some eight feet 
 above the surface, and steps have to be added 
 to enable the inmates to descend from their 
 doors. 
 
 The rivers slide along on a level with the top 
 storeys of the houses, and the only objects to
 
 ON THE DROVE 37 
 
 break the horizon are the windmills that drive 
 the water up from the dykes into the canals. 
 
 There are no roads, as there is no material of 
 which roads can be made. In place of roads 
 there are ' droves.' A drove is a broad course, 
 straight as an arrow, by means of which com- 
 munication is had between one farm and 
 another, and people pass from one village to 
 another. 
 
 These droves have ditches, one on each side, 
 dense in summer with bulrushes. No attempt 
 is made to consolidate the soil in these droves 
 other than by harrowing and rolling them in 
 summer. In winter they are bogs, in summer 
 they are dust — dust black, impalpable. Wheeled 
 conveyances can hardly get along the droves in 
 winter, or wet weather, as the wheels sink to the 
 axles. 
 
 The canal banks, however, are solid, com- 
 pacted of stiff clay, and as they are broad, so as 
 to resist the pressure of the water they contain 
 between them, their tops make very tolerable 
 paths, and roads for those on horseback. But 
 no wheeled vehicle is suffered to use the bank 
 tops, and to prevent these banks from being 
 converted into carriage roads, barriers are placed 
 across them at intervals, which horses with 
 riders easily leap. 
 
 At one of the Cambridge Assizes a poor man, 
 a witness in court, when asked his profession, 
 answered, — 'My lord, I am a banker.' The
 
 38 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 judge, turning very red, said, ' No joking here, 
 sir.' ' But I am a banker and nothing else,' 
 protested the witness. He was, in fact, one of 
 the gang of men maintained for the reparation 
 of the canal banks. 
 
 The reader must be given some idea of the 
 manner in which this vast level region is drained. 
 It is cut up into large squares, and each square 
 is a field that is surrounded by dykes. These 
 dykes are in communication with one another, 
 and all lead to a drain or load, that is to say, to 
 a channel of water of a secondary size, that 
 lies at the level of a few feet above the dykes. 
 To convey the water from the ditches into 
 the drains, windmills are erected, that work 
 machinery which throws the water out of the 
 ditches up hill into the loads. These loads or 
 drains run to the canal at intervals of two miles; 
 and when the drain reaches the canal bank, 
 then a pump of great power forces the water of 
 the load to a still higher level, into the main 
 artery through which it flows to the sea. On 
 the canals are lighters, and these, rather than 
 waggons, serve for the conveyance of farm 
 produce to the markets. Water is the natural 
 highway in the fen-land. 
 
 The short October day had closed in. The 
 fen lay black, streaked with steely bands — the 
 dykes that reflected the grey sky. 
 
 On the right hand was a bank rising some 
 fourteen feet above the roadwav ; it was the
 
 ON THE DROVE 39 
 
 embankment of the river or canal that goes by 
 the name of the Lark. Above it, some wan 
 stars were flickering. On the left hand the fen 
 stretched away into infinity, the horizon was 
 lost in fog. 
 
 The Cheap Jack's horse was crawling, reeling 
 along the drove under the embankment, the van 
 plunging into quagmires, lurching into ruts. 
 The horse strained every muscle and drew it 
 forward a few yards, then sighed, hung his 
 head, and remained immovable. Once again 
 he nerved himself to the effort, and as the van 
 started, its contents tinkled and rattled. The 
 brute might as well have been drawing it across 
 a ploughed field. Again he heaved a heavy 
 sigh, and then finally abandoned the effort. 
 
 The Cheap Jack had got out of the conveyance. 
 He was unwell, too unwell to walk, but he could 
 not think of adding his weight to that the poor 
 horse was compelled to drag over what was not 
 the apology for, but the mockery of a road. 
 
 * I say, Zit,' muttered he hoarsely, ' I wish 
 now as we'd a' stayed overnight in Ely.' 
 
 * I wish we had, father. And we could have 
 afforded it ; we've made fine profits in Ely — 
 tremenjous.' 
 
 The man did not respond. He trudged and 
 stumbled on. 
 
 The drove was as intolerable to walk on as 
 to drive along. 
 
 'Well, I never came along roads like these
 
 40 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 afore,' said the girl, ' and I hopes we may soon be 
 out of the Fens, and never get into them again.' 
 
 * I don't know as we shall ever get out,' said 
 the man, reeling as one drunk. ' It seems as 
 if we was sinking — sinking — and the black mud 
 would close over us.' 
 
 * Come along, Jewel ! ' said Zita to the old 
 horse. ' I'd put the lash of the whip across you, 
 but I haven't the heart to do it.' 
 
 ' This is going like snails,' groaned the man. 
 
 ' It's going worse than snails,' retorted his 
 daughter. ' Snails carry their houses safely 
 along with them, but I doubt if we shall convey 
 our van out of this here region o' stick-in-the- 
 mud, without all its in'ards being knocked to bits. 
 We'll have to yarn tremenjous, father, to cover 
 the dints in the tin and the cracks in the crocks.' 
 
 The man halted. 
 
 * I don't think I can get no forrarder,' said he ; 
 * I'm all of a quake and a chill.' 
 
 'Well, father, let us put up here. It's no 
 odds to us where we stay.' 
 
 ' But it is to the hoss. What's Jewel to eat ? 
 There's nought but mud and rushes. If we do 
 take him out of the shafts, he'll tumble into one 
 of the ditches.' 
 
 ' I wonder what is the distance to Littleport ? ' 
 asked the girl. * But, bless me ! on these roads 
 it's no calculating distances. There was a man 
 rode by us on the bank above. He had lanterns 
 to his stirrups. I wish I'd gone up the side and
 
 ON THE DROVE 41 
 
 just asked him how far ahead it was to Littleport. 
 Now he's got a long way ahead, and it's no use 
 to run after him.' 
 
 ' We must go on, I doubt but we shall sink 
 in the mire if we stay.' 
 
 The man sighed and staggered forward. 
 Then the horse also sighed and endeavoured to 
 move the van, but failed. It was fast. 
 
 ' What is to be done now ? There's Jewel 
 can't stir the caravan. Did you notice, father, 
 how that man's horse jumped as he rode by? 
 There is a sort of a rail across, or we would 
 have tried to get the conveyance up on the 
 bank. When the horse jumped, up went the 
 lanterns also. I suppose there is some farm 
 near here where they'll let us put up Jewel for 
 the night. We needn't trouble then, as we have 
 our own house on wheels. But Jewel must 
 have his food and a stall.' 
 
 At that moment a second rider appeared on 
 the embankment, trotting in the same direction 
 as had the first. He had a single lantern 
 attached to one stirrup, whereas the first who 
 had passed, and been noticed by Zita, had two. 
 The girl ran up the slope of the bank, calling. 
 
 The rider drew rein. 'What do you want?' 
 he inquired. 
 
 * Oh, will you tell me where we can put our 
 horse for the night and have a little hay ? ' 
 
 ' Who are you ? ' 
 
 Zita knew by the tone of the voice that the
 
 42 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 man had been drinking, and that, though not 
 inebriated, he had taken too much liquor — 
 
 ' We are the Cheap Jack and his daughter. 
 We cannot get along the way, it is so bad — 
 and the wheels are stuck in the mud. We want 
 to go to Littleport, and father ' — 
 
 * You are a set of darned rascals ! ' interrupted 
 the rider. ' I'll have nothing more to do with 
 you ; and you, I suppose, are the gal as cheated 
 me — the worst of the lot you are.' He had a 
 flail in his hand, and he flourished it over his 
 head. * You get along, you Cheap Jackies, or 
 I'll bring the flail down about your heads and 
 shoulders and loins, and make you fish out that 
 there guinea I paid — and more fool I.' Driving 
 his heels into the flanks of his horse, and slashing 
 its neck with the loop of his bridle, he galloped 
 along the top of the embankment. 
 
 Zita descended. 
 
 The van was stationary. The horse, Jewel, 
 stood with drooping head and a pout on the 
 nether lip, with legs stiff in the deep mire, 
 resolute not to budge another inch. Zita took 
 the van lantern and went to his head. Jewel 
 had thrown an expression into his face that 
 proclaimed his resolution not to make another 
 effort, whether urged on by whip, or cajoled by 
 caresses. The girl, still carrying the lantern, 
 came to her father. He was seated against the 
 embankment, with his hands in his pockets and 
 his head fallen forward.
 
 ON THE DROVE 43 
 
 ' Father, how are you ? ' 
 
 * Bad — bad — tremenjous.' 
 
 'Father, let us walk on and seek a house. 
 Jewel will not stir ; he has turned up his nose 
 and set back his ears, and I know what that 
 means. I don't think any one will come this 
 way and rob the van. Let us go on together. 
 You lean on me, and we will find a farm.' 
 
 * I can't rise, Zit.' 
 
 ' Let me help you up.* 
 
 ' I couldn't take another step, Zit' 
 
 ' Make an effort, father.' 
 
 * I'm past that, Zit. I'm dying. It's o' no 
 use urging of me. I sticks here as does Jewel. 
 I can't move. I'm too bad for that. O Lord 1 
 that I should die in this here fen-land ! ' 
 
 * Let me get you some brandy.' 
 
 ' It ain't of no use at all, Zit. I'm just about 
 done for, 'Tis so with goods at times ; when 
 they gets battered and bulged and broken and 
 all to pieces, they must be chucked aside. I'm 
 no good no more as a Cheap Jack. I'm battered 
 and bulged and broken and all to pieces, so I'm 
 going to be chucked aside.' 
 
 Zita considered for a moment. Then she set 
 down the lantern at her father's side, ran up 
 the embankment, ran along it in the direction 
 which had been taken by the riders, one after 
 the other, crying as loud as she possibly could, 
 ' Help ! help ! Father is dying. Help ! help ! 
 help ! '
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE FLAILS AGAIN. 
 
 HEZEKIAH, or, as he was usually called 
 for short, Ki, Drownlands was riding 
 homewards from the Ely Fair along the embank- 
 ment of the river Lark. He bore over his 
 shoulder the flail that had cost him twelve 
 shillings and sixpence, and in his heart glowed 
 a consuming rage that his adversary and neigh- 
 bour — perhaps adversary because neighbour — 
 Jeremiah or Jake Runham had paid a guinea for 
 the companion flail, and had outbidden him. 
 
 It was not that Ki Drownlands particularly 
 required a flail, or a companion flail to that he 
 had secured, but he was intolerant of opposition, 
 and it was his ambition to be first in his fen ; he 
 would show his supremacy by outbidding the 
 only man approaching him in wealth and in in- 
 fluence, and that before a crowd made up in 
 part of people who knew him and his rival. It 
 was gall to his liver to think that he had been 
 surpassed in his offer, that an advantage over 
 
 44
 
 THE FLAILS AGAIN 45 
 
 him had been snatched, and that Jake Runham 
 had been able to carry off from under his nose 
 something — it mattered not what — that he, Ki 
 Drownlands, had coveted, and had let people 
 see that he had coveted. 
 
 The rivalry of these two landowners was 
 known throughout the Ely Fens, and in every 
 tavern the talk was certain to turn on the bidding 
 for the flails, and folk would say, 'Jake is a 
 better man than Ki by eight shillings and 
 sixpence.' 
 
 Drownlands had been drinking, and this fact 
 served to sharpen and inflame his resentment, 
 but he was able to ride upright and steadily, 
 and sit his horse upright and steadily as the 
 beast leaped the barriers on the bank. He 
 carried, as already mentioned, lanterns below 
 both feet attached to the stirrups. They 
 illumined the way, they flashed upon obstruc- 
 tions, they sent a gleam over the water of the 
 canal. In the dark — and the night was at times 
 pitch-dark, when clouds cut off the light of the 
 stars — then it was not safe to ride on the em- 
 bankment without a light. The horse might 
 fail to see the barriers, and precipitate itself 
 against them. It might slip down the bank 
 and fall with its rider, on one side into the river, 
 on the other into the drove. On the one side 
 the horseman might be drowned, on the other 
 break his neck. But, supposing the horse had 
 its wits about it and its eyes open, the rider
 
 46 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 might have neither, and be unprepared for the 
 leap, or the shp in the greasy marl. 
 
 If, conscious of the risk when on the embank- 
 ment, the horseman took the drove ; then also 
 he was not safe, for there it was doubly dark, 
 shadowed on one side by the elevation of the 
 embankment, whilst on the other side lay the 
 dyke, the water brimming, and disguised by 
 sedge and rushes. Into this a horse might 
 plunge, and, once in, could not be extricated 
 without infinite labour by several hands. For 
 the bottom of the ditches is soft bog, and the 
 sides are spongy peat. Not a particle of firm 
 substance can be found on which a horse may 
 plant its feet, and obtain the purchase necessary 
 for lifting itself out of the water and mire. 
 Consequently, when farmers returned late from 
 market and fair in the long dark winter nights, 
 they provided themselves with lanterns. 
 
 Prickwillow was the name of the farm of 
 Master Ki Drownlands. The grandfather of Ki 
 had possessed a reed-walled cottage on piles, 
 and a (qw acres of soil that showed above the 
 water in March, was submerged again for a 
 while in July, and then reappeared as the rainy 
 season ceased. Here he was wont to prick in 
 willow twigs that rapidly grew into osier beds. 
 On a platform above the rippling water the 
 grandfather had mended his nets and cleaned 
 his fowling-piece, and the grandmother had 
 woven baskets. Now all was dry, and a house
 
 THE FLAILS AGAIN 47 
 
 stood where had been the lacustrine habitation, 
 and the plough turned up the thousand odds 
 and ends that successive generations had cast 
 out of the cottage into the water, never expecting 
 that they would be seen again. 
 
 The flood had retreated, dry land had 
 appeared, and the ark had rested on what had 
 formerly been the least submerged portion of the 
 tract over which the ancestral slodger, Drown- 
 lands, had exercised more or less questionable 
 rights ; rights, however, which, though question- 
 able, had never been questioned. With a little 
 money collected by industry, and more borrowed 
 from the Ely bank, the /^r^ Drownlands had ex- 
 tended his domain, and had rendered his claim 
 absolute and his rights unassailable. 
 
 And now Ki Drownlands was riding home 
 in a fume of wounded pride, and with a brain 
 somewhat turned by brandy. He sharply drew 
 rein ; he thought he heard a cry. The cry was 
 repeated as he halted to listen. From whence 
 it came he could not judge, saving only that it 
 proceeded from the rear. Over the fen, as 
 upon water, sound travels great distances ; over 
 the fen, as over water, meeting with no obstruc- 
 tions, the waves of sound pass, and it is not 
 easy to judge distances. Drownlands turned 
 his horse about and faced in the direction of 
 Ely, the direction whence the call came, as far 
 as he could judge. 
 
 He saw a light approaching. Was it carried,
 
 48 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 or hung to a stirrup? He could not tell. 
 Was it the lantern-bearer who summoned him ? 
 If so, for what object ? The cry was repeated. 
 
 Surely the voice was that of a female. If the 
 appeal were not to him, to whom could it be 
 addressed ? 
 
 To the best of his knowledge, there was no 
 one else out so late on the embankment He 
 recalled passing no one. 
 
 It was true that he had ridden by the van, but 
 he had not seen it. The van was in the drove 
 below, and he had been twelve or fourteen feet 
 above the roadway. Moreover, the lanterns at 
 his feet threw a halo about him, and though 
 they illumined every object that came within 
 their radius, yet they made all doubly obscure 
 and everything indistinguishable that was out- 
 side that radius. 
 
 Furthermore, Drownlands had been occupied 
 with his own thoughts, and had not been in an 
 observant mood. 
 
 Zita had not addressed him as he rode by, 
 and he had passed without any notion that there 
 were travellers toiling along in the same direc- 
 tion at a lower level. He had not expected to 
 see a conveyance there, and had looked for none. 
 
 The light that he noticed on the bank was 
 approaching. It was held at no great distance 
 from the ground. It might equally be carried 
 in the hand of one on foot, or be swung from 
 the stirrups of a rider. It was, however, impro-
 
 THE FLAILS AGAIN 49 
 
 bable that a horseman would be contented with 
 a single light. 
 
 Drownlands did not ride forward to meet the 
 advancing light. He remained stationary, with 
 his right hand holding the flail, so that the end 
 of the staff rested on his thigh, much as a field- 
 marshal is represented in pictures holding his 
 bdton. 
 
 In the Fens the horses are unshod, and on a 
 way that is without stones there will be little 
 sound of a horse when trotting ; but as the 
 moving light neared, Drownlands was aware 
 from the vibration of the embankment that a 
 horse was approaching. 
 
 A minute later, and he saw before him Jake 
 R-unham, mounted. 
 
 The recognition was mutual. 
 
 ' Out of my way ! ' shouted Runham. ' Out of 
 my way, you dog, or I will ride you down ! ' 
 
 ' I will not get out of your way. Why did 
 you call ? ' 
 
 * I call ? I call you ? That's a likely tale. 
 What should I want with a twopenny-ha'penny 
 chap such as you ? ' 
 
 * Twopenny-ha'penny ? Do you mean me ? ' 
 ' Yes, I do.' 
 
 * You are drunk. Some one called.' 
 
 'Not I. But I call now, and loud enough. 
 Stand out of my way ; get down the side of the 
 bank ; and go to the devil.' 
 
 * I will not make way for you,' said Drown- 
 
 4
 
 So CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 lands. Then between his teeth, * It is well we 
 have met.' 
 
 ' Ay, it is well.' 
 
 'Now we can settle old scores. Now' — he 
 looked up, and waved his flail towards heaven, 
 which was clad with clouds — * now that no eyes 
 look down from above, and we are quite sure 
 there are no eyes watching us from below ' — 
 
 Then Runham, with a yell, dug his spurs into 
 the flanks of his steed, and made him bound 
 forward. His intention was, with the impetus, 
 to drive his adversary and horse down the bank. 
 As it was, his horse struck that of Drownlands, 
 which, being a heavy beast, swerved but slightly. 
 
 ' Keep off, you drunken fool ! ' shouted Ki. 
 
 ' Am I to keep off you ? I ? Not I. I will 
 have the J^ank to myself. Let me pass, or I 
 will ride over you and tread your brains out' 
 
 * You will have the matter of the past fought 
 out between us ? ' 
 
 ' Ay ! Ay ! ' 
 
 Jake backed his horse, snorting and plunging 
 under the curb. 
 
 Then, when he had retired some twenty yards, 
 he uttered a halloo, whirled his flail above his 
 head, drove his heels into the sides of his steed, 
 and came on at a gallop. 
 
 Drownlands raised and brandished his flail, 
 and brought it down with a sweep before him. 
 This alarmed his own horse, which reared and 
 started, but more so that of his rival, which
 
 ^ THE FLAILS AGAIN 51 
 
 suddenly leaped on one side, and nearly un- 
 seated Jake Runham. However, Jake gripped 
 the pommel, and with an oath urged his horse 
 into the path again, 
 
 Drownlands had forgotten about the call 
 that had induced him to turn his horse. His 
 attention was solely occupied with the man 
 before him. 
 
 The situation was one in which two resolute 
 men, each determined not to yield to the other, 
 each inflamed with anger against the other, 
 must fight their controversy out to the end. 
 The way on the bank top would not admit of 
 two abreast, consequently not of one passing 
 the other without mutual concession. On the 
 one side was the drove fourteen feet below, on 
 the other the canal. He who had to give way 
 must roll down the embankment into the drove 
 or plunge into the water. 
 
 Each man was armed, and each with a like 
 weapon. 
 
 It would seem as though the horses understood 
 the feelings that actuated their riders, and shared 
 them. They snorted defiance, they tossed their 
 manes, they reared and pawed the air. 
 
 Again Runham spurred his steed, and the 
 beasts clashed together, and as they did so, so 
 also did the flails. 
 
 The two men were at close quarters, too 
 close for the flappers of the flails to take full 
 effect. They heaved their weapons and struck
 
 52 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 furiously at each other, bruising flesh, but 
 breaking no bones. The strokes of the whistl- 
 ing flappers fell on the saddle back, on the sides 
 of the horses, rather than on the heads and 
 shoulders of the men. The lanterns jerked 
 and danced, as the horses pawed and plunged, 
 and bit at each other. 
 
 The men swore, and strove by main weight to 
 force each other from the bank, — Runham to 
 drive his antagonist into the river, Drownlands 
 by side blows of the flail to force the opposed 
 horse to go down the bank into the drove. 
 
 The struggle lasted for some minutes. To 
 any one standing by it would have seemed a 
 confusion of dancing lights and reflections — a 
 confusion also of oaths, blows, and clash of 
 steel bits, and thud of ashen staves. 
 
 Then, by mutual consent, but unexpressed, the 
 two men drew back equally exhausted. They 
 drew back with no thought of yielding, but with 
 intent to recover wind and strength to renew 
 the contest. Both antagonists remained planted 
 opposite each other, panting, quivering with 
 excitement, their beasts steaming in the cold 
 October night air. 
 
 ' You dared to call me by an ugly name before 
 folk ! ' shouted Drownlands. 
 
 ' Dared ? — I will do it again.' 
 
 ' You shall not be given the chance.' 
 
 * I carried away the flail over your head be- 
 cause you hadn't more shillings in your pocket'
 
 THE FLAILS AGAIN 53 
 
 ' The flail ? ' echoed Drownlands. ' This is 
 not a matter now of a flail. This is not a 
 matter now of a way along the bank. It's a 
 matter of nineteen years' endurance. For 
 nineteen years I have borne the grossest of 
 wrongs. I'll bear the burden no longer. The 
 wrong shall not go another hour unavenged.' 
 
 'You've borne it so long the back is accus- 
 tomed to the burden,' taunted Jake. 
 
 * For nineteen years I have endured it. But 
 to-night we are face to face, and alone.' Again 
 he waved his flail to heaven. 'No eye looks 
 down upon us. I and you are equally matched 
 as far as weapons go. All is fair between us, 
 but if there be justice on high, it will weight my 
 arm to beat you down ; and here,' said he, 
 touching his breast with the end of the flail, — 
 ' here is no spark of pity, just as there is now 
 no spark aloft. If I beat you, I beat you till 
 the blood runs, beat you till the bones are 
 pounded, beat you till the marrow oozes out, 
 beat you — as we beat hemp.' 
 
 Then, unable longer to control his fury, the 
 dark man urged his horse forward with his 
 spurs, and as he did so, the lanterns clashed 
 against the flanks of the brute, and burnt them 
 as the spurs had stung them. With a snort of 
 anger and pain, the beast leaped into the air, 
 flung himself forward, and hurled his whole 
 weight against the horse of Runham. The 
 latter had altered his tactics, and had drawn up
 
 54 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 to receive the charge instead of delivering it as 
 before. At the same moment Ki swung his 
 flail and brought it down. But he had over- 
 shot his mark, and with the violence of the blow 
 he was carried across the neck of Runham's 
 horse. Jake saw his advantage at once, caught 
 him by the tiger-skin, and, grappling that, 
 endeavoured to drag his opponent out of the 
 saddle. But Ki reared himself up, and tried to 
 wrench the skin away. His bodily strength 
 was the greatest. The horses leaped, kicked, 
 reeled, and the two men on them held fast, the 
 tiger-skin between them. Then Runham twisted 
 his flail in the skin and continued to turn it. 
 In vain now did Ki endeavour to wrench it 
 away. The skin was fast about his throat, and 
 as it was drawn tighter and even tighter, it 
 threatened strangulation. Jake backed his 
 horse, and as he backed, he drew his opponent 
 after him. The blood thumped in the ears of 
 Drownlands. The veins in his temples swelled 
 to bursting. 
 
 The plunging of the horses caused the pres- 
 sure to be relaxed for one moment, but it was 
 tightened the next, and became intolerable. 
 Ki's tongue and eyes started, his lips were 
 puffed, foam formed on them. He could not 
 cry, he could not speak, he snufiled and gasped. 
 With his heels he thrust his horse forward, to 
 save himself from being drawn from his saddle 
 to hang to the flail of Runham.
 
 THE FLAILS AGAIN 55 
 
 In another moment Drownlands would have 
 been unhorsed and at his adversary's mercy. 
 But at this supreme instant he ckitched his 
 own flail, and, holding it with both hands over 
 his bent head, drove the end of it into the ear of 
 Runham's horse. The more he was drawn 
 forward, the greater the leverage on the end of 
 his flail, and the more exquisite the agony of 
 the horse. The brute, driven mad with pain, 
 gathered itself up into a convulsive, spasmodic 
 shake and leap, and with the jerk, the tiger-skin 
 was plucked out of the hand of Jake Runham. 
 
 Drownlands reared himself in his stirrups. 
 He was blinded with blood in his eyes, but he 
 whirled the flail round his head, and beat 
 savagely in all directions. It whistled as it 
 swung, it screamed as it descended. Then a 
 thud, a cry, and indistinctly, through the roar of 
 his pulses in his ears, he heard a crash down the 
 bank, and indistinctly through his suffused eyes 
 he saw a black mass stagger into the river. 
 
 Gasping for breath, quivering in every nerve, 
 tingling in every vein, as the blood recovered 
 its wonted circulation, Drownlands held his 
 horse motionless, and, gathering his senses, 
 looked before him. 
 
 There was hardly a flake of steely light in the 
 sky. Clouds had spread over the firmament. 
 What little light there was, lay as a strip on 
 the horizon, like the glaze of white in a dead 
 man's eye. The inky water reflected none of
 
 56 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 it. For a moment, on the surface, the lantern 
 attached to Runham's stirrup floated and 
 danced, whilst the flame burnt and charred 
 the horn side, then it was drawn under and 
 extinguished. 
 
 Drovvnlands leaned forward and stretched 
 his flail to the water ; then drew the flapper 
 across the surface where his enemy had sunk, 
 as one who scratches out a score. 
 
 Then suddenly he was grasped by the foot, 
 and a voice rang in his ears : ' Help ! help ! Oh, 
 prithee, help ! ' 
 
 In his condition of nervous excitation, the 
 touch, the call, so unexpected, wrung from him 
 a scream. It was as though a rude hand had 
 fallen on an exposed nerve. 
 
 Again a tighter clasp at his foot, again an 
 entreating cry of intenser entreaty : ' Help ! Oh, 
 prithee, prithee, help 1 '
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BETWEEN TWO LIGHTS. 
 
 ZITA had run on. Her young heart was full 
 of the agony of distress for her father. 
 He was the one object in the world to whom her 
 heart clung. She had lost her mother early, 
 and had been accordingly brought up by her 
 father, who had been father and mother to her 
 in one. She had no brothers, no sisters. He 
 had been to her father, mother, brothers, and 
 sisters in one. The young heart is full of love. 
 It is of a clinging nature. It may not be 
 disposed to demonstrativeness, but it loves, it 
 clings ; and it is in despair when the object to 
 which it has clung, the person it has loved, 
 fails. 
 
 For some little while, for more than the 
 fortnight of which Zita had spoken, she had 
 observed that her father was ill, that his powers 
 were declining. 
 
 She had fought against the terrible thought 
 that she would lose him, whenever with a flash 
 
 57
 
 58 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 of horror it had shot through her brain, had 
 contracted her heart. 
 
 Her father ! The daily associate ; the one per- 
 son to whom she could always speak with frank- 
 ness, with whom she had had but one interest ; 
 the one person who had watched over her, cared 
 for her, loved her— that he should be suffering, 
 that he might be removed ! The idea was more 
 than her young heart could bear. Cheap Jacks 
 are human beings, they have like feelings to us 
 who buy not of Cheap Jacks, but of respectable 
 tradesmen. Cheap Jacks' daughters, though 
 they have not had the privileges of the moral and 
 intellectual training that have ours, are neverthe- 
 less—human beings. We admit this tacitly, but 
 do not think out the truth such an admission 
 contains — that they have in their natures the 
 same mixed propensities, in their hearts the same 
 passions as ourselves — as have our own children. 
 
 Now this poor child ran, her pulses beating ; 
 as she ran, with every rush of blood through 
 her pulses, a fire shot in electric flashes before 
 her eyes. She continuously cried, ' Help ! 
 help ! My father ! my daddy ! ' 
 
 Then her breath failed her. She tried to run, 
 but was forced to stay her feet and gasp for 
 breath. She could not maintain her pace as 
 well as call for assistance. 
 
 There was a roaring as of the sea over a bar 
 when the tide is coming in. It was the roar of 
 her thundering blood in her ears.
 
 BETWEEN TWO LIGHTS 59 
 
 She had taken the van lantern and had set it 
 down by her father on the side of the bank. 
 As she was forced to halt, she looked back. 
 A shudder came over her. She could not see 
 the light. Had it expired, and with it, had the 
 flickering light of life expired in her father ? 
 
 Then she stepped partly down the bank, and 
 now she saw the light. From the top she had 
 not been able to see it owing to the slope, and 
 for a slight curve in the direction of the canal. 
 The light that burned by her father's side was 
 still there. And before her she could see the 
 sparks in the direction she was pursuing. A 
 strange medley of lights — were there two or 
 three or more ? She could not count, owing to 
 her excitement and the tears and sweat that 
 streamed over her eyes. 
 
 She ran on, as the furious throbbing of her 
 heart was allayed, as her breath returned. 
 
 Suddenly — a crash, a flash as of lightning, 
 and Zita knew not where she was, and for 
 how long she had been in a state of semi- 
 consciousness. 
 
 The poor child, running with full speed, had 
 run against one of the barriers set up across the 
 top of the embankment for the prevention of its 
 employment by wheeled vehicles. 
 
 She had struck her head and chest against 
 the bars, and had been thrown backwards, partly 
 stunned, completely dazzled by the blow. For 
 some minutes she lay on the bank confused and
 
 6o CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 in pain. Then she picked herself up, but was 
 unable to understand what had happened. She 
 again went forward, and now felt the bars of 
 timber. She put her hands to them and climbed. 
 She was sobbing with pain and anxiety; through 
 her tears she could see the lights in front of 
 her magnified with prismatic rays shooting from 
 them. On reaching the top of the barrier she 
 looked behind her, and again saw the feeble 
 light from her father's lantern. 
 
 Now her senses returned to her, which for a 
 few moments had been disturbed by the blow 
 and fall. 
 
 She was running to obtain help, shelter for 
 her dear father. From the top rail she cried, 
 ' Help 1 help ! My daddy ! My poor daddy ! 
 Help! help!' 
 
 She listened. She thought she heard voices. 
 Hurt, wearied, breathless, she hoped that the 
 assistance she had invoked was coming to her 
 aid. 
 
 Should she remain perched where she was, 
 and wait till the lights in front drew nearer to 
 her? 
 
 Then the fear came over her that she might 
 not have been heard. The man to whom she 
 had spoken — he with the one lantern to his 
 stirrup — had addressed her roughly, had shown 
 no good feeling, no desire to assist. Was it 
 likely that he had changed his mind, and was 
 now returning ?
 
 BETWEEN TWO LIGHTS 6i 
 
 She was confident that the man whom she 
 had arrested had carried but a single lantern to 
 his foot. Now as her pulses became more even 
 in their throb, she was positive that there were 
 more lights than one before her. She looked 
 behind her. There was one light by her father, 
 that was stationary. There were several before 
 her ; and they were in the strangest movement, 
 flickering here and there, changing places, now 
 obscured, now shining out, now low, now high, 
 now on this side, now on that. 
 
 She leaped from her place on the rail and 
 ran on. 
 
 Then, coming on an unctuous place in the 
 marl, where a horse's hoofs had been, where, 
 perhaps, it had slipped, and, running in a bee- 
 line, regardless where she went, ignorant of a 
 slight deviation from the direct line in the 
 course of the bank, she went down the side, and 
 plunged into the ice-cold water. 
 
 There was a stake, a post in the water. She 
 clung to that, and, holding it, struggled to get 
 out. In so doing, she noticed a sort of eye in 
 the post, a mortice-hole that pierced it, and as 
 at that moment some of the clouds had parted, 
 she saw the grey sky and a star shine through 
 this hole. By means of this post, Zita, whose 
 strength was almost spent, was able to draw 
 herself from out of the water. But so exhausted 
 was she, that, on reaching the top of the bank, 
 she was constrained to stop and pant for breath.
 
 62 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Still the thought of her suffering, perhaps 
 dying, father, urged her on. She saw the 
 dancing h'ghts close before her, she heard 
 voices. She felt the embankment tremble 
 under her feet. Surely some violent commotion 
 was taking place before her ; but what it could 
 be she had neither time nor power to conjecture. 
 
 Then there went by overhead, invisible in the 
 darkness, a train of wild geese, going south for 
 the winter, and as they flew they uttered loud, 
 wild cries, like the barking of hounds in the 
 clouds — a horrible, startling sound fit to unnerve 
 any who were unaware of the cause. 
 
 For a moment she stood still, listening to the 
 aerial ghostly sounds. She held her breath. 
 Then again she ran. 
 
 As Zita ran, it seemed to her that assuredly 
 she saw but two lights. There must have been 
 but two, and they were stationary. She tried 
 to call, but her voice failed her ; her throat was 
 parched. She could but run. 
 
 Next moment the lights blazed large on her, 
 and then she grasped a foot. * Help ! help ! '
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PROFITS. 
 
 *'\"\ THAT do you want? Who are you?' 
 V V asked Ki Drownlands, when he had 
 sufficiently recovered his self-possession to see 
 that some one was clinging to him, and that that 
 person was a woman. 
 
 ' Help ! Come back ! Father is ill.* 
 * I don't care. Let go. You hurt me.' 
 She hurt him by her touch on his boot ! His 
 nerves were thrilling, and the pressure of her 
 fingers was unendurable in the surexcitation of 
 every fibre of his system. 
 
 ' Oh, help ! help ! ' She would not relax her 
 hold. 
 
 ' I cannot. I've my own concerns to 
 attend.' 
 
 Drownlands remained silent for a moment. 
 He was shivering as one in an ague fit — shiver- 
 ing as though the marrow in his bones were 
 touched with frost. Presently he asked in a 
 voice of constraint — 
 
 63
 
 64 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' How long have you been here ? What have 
 you seen ? ' 
 
 He stooped to his stirrup, unhitched one of 
 the lanterns and held it aloft, above the person 
 who appealed for his aid. 
 
 The dim yellow light fell over a head of 
 thick amber hair and a pale, beautifully moulded 
 face, with large lustrous eyes, looking up en- 
 treatingly at him. 
 
 His hand that held the lantern was unsteady, 
 and the light quivered. To disguise his agita- 
 tion, he gave the lantern a pendulous motion, 
 and the reflection glinted and went out, glinted 
 again in those great beseeching eyes, and glowed 
 in that copper-gold hair, as though waves of 
 glory flashed up in the darkness and set again 
 in darkness. 
 
 ' What have you seen ? ' he repeated. 
 
 ' Seen ? — I see you. I want help. You will 
 help me?' 
 
 * How long have you been here?' 
 
 ' How long ? I am but this instant come. I 
 have run.' 
 
 Her bosom was heaving under a gay kerchief, 
 her breath came in little puffs of steam that 
 passed as golden dust in the halo of the lantern. 
 
 Drownlands rested both his hands on the 
 pommel of the saddle, with the flail athwart 
 beneath them. He put the handle of the lantern 
 in his mouth, and the upward glare of the light 
 was on his sinister face. He was considering.
 
 PROFITS 65 
 
 He did not recognise the girl. His mind was 
 too distraught to think whether or not he had 
 seen her before. She persisted — 
 
 ' Help us ! I have been running. I am out of 
 breath. I saw you ride by on the bank. I called 
 to you, and spoke to you there, and you would 
 do nothing. My dear father is worse. He is 
 dying. You must — you shall help.' 
 
 He still looked at her. That beautiful face — 
 the sole object shining out of the darkness — 
 fascinated him, in spite of his alarm, his distress. 
 
 * I am Cheap Jack Zita. I am the daughter 
 of the poor Cheap Jack. He is taken ill — he 
 cannot get on. He is on the bank — dying. 
 My father ! ' 
 
 Then she burst into tears ; and in the lantern 
 light Ki saw the sparkling drops race down the 
 smooth cheeks, saw them rise in the great eyes 
 and overflow. He slowly removed the lantern 
 handle from his teeth, and said — 
 
 ' I cannot be plagued with you. I have other 
 matters that concern me.' 
 
 He had been alarmed at first, fearing lest his 
 encounter with Runham had been witnessed, 
 lest this girl should be able to testify against 
 him, were he taken to task for the death of his 
 rival and adversary. 
 
 ' Oh, come ! Oh, do come ! ' sobbed Zita, as 
 she grasped his boot more tightly. 
 
 * It was you who called ? ' 
 ' Yes, it was I.' 
 
 5
 
 66 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' You called me ? ' 
 
 'Yes. There was no one else to call.' 
 
 ' Oh,' said he, ' you saw no one else ? No 
 one with me ? ' 
 
 ' No. I ran up the bank as you went by. I 
 spoke to you, but you swore at me.' 
 
 •I— I did that?' 
 
 There was some mistake. She had taken 
 him for the man now beneath the water. 
 
 'You shall not go!' cried the girl, clinging 
 desperately to the stirrup. ' You cannot be so 
 heartless as to let my poor father die.' 
 What is your father to me? Let go.' 
 
 ' I will not let go.' 
 
 He pricked his horse on ; but she held to the 
 bridle and arrested it. 
 
 ' Take care ! ' said Drownlands. * I will not 
 be stayed against my will.' 
 
 She clung to the bridle. 
 
 'You may ride over me, and kill me too. 
 I will not let go.' 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' asked he, with a gasp. 
 ' What do you mean by " kill me too " ? ' 
 
 'You shall ride over me, but I shall not 
 let go.' 
 
 'But why did you say "kill me too"?' he 
 asked threateningly. 
 
 ' I will die as well as my father. I do not 
 care to live if he die. How can you leave 
 him? how can you be so cruel?' She broke 
 forth into vehemence that shook her whole
 
 PROFITS 67 
 
 frame, and shook the horse whose bridle she 
 grappled. 
 
 ' What's that ? ' asked Drownlands, as the 
 horse stumbled. 
 
 He held up the lantern. 
 
 On the embankment, under the horse's feet, 
 lay the flail that had been twisted into his tiger- 
 skin. 
 
 ' I know you — I know you,' said the girl. ' It 
 was you who bought the flail.' Then again, 
 ' My father is ill. He is sitting on the bank ; 
 he cannot walk. He will die of the cold if you 
 do not help.' 
 
 'Let go,' shouted Drownlands, 'or I'll bring 
 the flail down on your hands.' 
 
 ' You may break them. I will cling with my 
 teeth.' 
 
 He brandished the flail angrily. 
 
 Then Zita bowed herself, picked up the second 
 flail, and, planting herself across the way, 
 said — 
 
 'You are bad and you are cruel. I cannot 
 get you to come to my father for the asking. 
 I will drive you to him — drive you with the 
 flail ; I will force you to go.' 
 
 He tried to pass the girl, but she would not 
 budge ; and before the whirling flapper and her 
 threatening attitude, the horse recoiled and 
 almost threw himself and his rider down the 
 embankment into the drove. 
 
 Drownlands uttered a curse, and again
 
 68 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 attempted to push past, but was again driven 
 back by Zita 
 
 ' Take care, or I will ride you down,' he 
 threatened ; then shivered, as he recalled how 
 that a few minutes previously Jake Runham 
 had used the same threat to him. 
 
 He considered a moment. 
 
 He could not allow this girl to retain the flail 
 she had picked up. It was evidence against 
 him. Every one in Burnt Fen, every one in 
 Weldenhall and Soham Fens, would hear of the 
 contest at Ely before the Cheap Jack van. If 
 that flail were known to have been found on the 
 embankment, it would be known at once where 
 it was that Runham fell into the Lark. It might 
 be surmised that a struggle had there taken 
 place, and marks of the struggle would be 
 looked for. 
 
 The girl who stood before Drownlands was 
 the sole person who could by any possibility 
 appear as witness against him — could prove 
 that he had been on the spot where Runham 
 had perished ; and this girl was now appealing 
 to him for help. It was advisable that she 
 should be conciliated — be placed under an 
 obligation to himself. 
 
 He made no further attempt to pass her ; he 
 made no attempt to fulfil his threat that he 
 would ride her down. 
 
 In a lowered tone he said, * Where is your 
 father ? '
 
 PROFITS 69 
 
 ' A little way back,' answered Zita. ' How far 
 back I cannot say. I ran — I ran.' 
 
 * I will go with you. Give me up that flail.' 
 
 * No,' she answered ; ' I do not trust you. You 
 would ride away when you had it.' 
 
 ' I swear to you that I will not do that.' 
 
 She shook her head, retained the flail, slung it 
 over her shoulder, and walked at his side. 
 
 Had she seen the contest ? Had she seen him 
 beat his adversary down — down into the river? 
 Drownlands asked himself these questions re- 
 peatedly, and was tempted to question her, but 
 shrank from so doing lest he should awake 
 suspicions. He need not have feared that. Her 
 whole mind was occupied with a single thought 
 — her dying father. 
 
 Drownlands riding, the Cheap Jack girl walk- 
 ing, retraced the path in the direction of Ely. 
 Not for a moment would she relax her hold 
 on the bridle, for she could not trust the good 
 faith of the rider. The river was stealing by, 
 the current so sluggish that it seemed hardly to 
 move. It made no ripple on the bank, no lap- 
 ping among the reeds. It had no curl of a smile 
 on its face, no undulation on its bosom. It was 
 a river that had gone to sleep, and was on the 
 verge of the stagnation of death. Ki found him- 
 self wondering how far during the night the 
 man and horse who had gone in would be swept 
 down. He wondered whether it were possible 
 that one or other had succeeded in makinsr
 
 70 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 his way out. He had heard no sound ; it 
 was hardly possible that either could have 
 escaped. 
 
 Presently a jerk on the reins roused Drown- 
 lands from his meditations, and he felt his horse 
 descend the bank, guided by the girl. In the 
 darkness he could see a still darker object, 
 which the faint light from a lantern on the bank 
 partially illumined, along with a motionless 
 horse, which seemed of very stubbornness to 
 be transformed to wood. When, however, the 
 beast heard the steps of its mistress, it turned 
 its head and looked stonily towards her, with a 
 peculiar curl of the nose and protrusion of the 
 lower lip that was a declaration of determined 
 resistance to being made to move forward. 
 Zita paid no attention to the horse. She called 
 to her father, and received a faint response. 
 
 'You will not leave me now? you will help? 
 — you swear? ' said she, turning to the rider. 
 
 ' No,' answered Ki ; ' now that I am here, I am 
 at your service to do for you what I can.' 
 
 He dismounted and attached his horse by the 
 bridle to the back of the van, then took one of 
 his lanterns, and went to where he heard Zita 
 speaking to her father. 
 
 ' I be bad, Zit — bad — tremenjous. I be done 
 for,' said the Cheap Jack. ' It's no good saying 
 " Get along." I can't ; there's the fact. I be 
 stuck — just as the van be. I seems to have no 
 wish but to be let alone and die slick off.'
 
 PROFITS 71 
 
 ' You shall not do that, father. Here is one 
 of the gentlemen as bought the flails of us. He 
 will help.' 
 
 Then Drownlands came to the side of the sick 
 man and inquired, ' What is it ? What can I 
 do for you ? ' 
 
 * I don't know as I want nort,' answered the 
 Cheap Jack ; ' nort but to be let alone to die. 
 Don't go and worrit me, that's all.' 
 
 'My farm is not a mile distant,' said Ki. 
 * Get into the waggon and drive along.' 
 
 ' I can't abear the joggle,' answered the Cheap 
 Jack. ' I wants to go nowhere. But whatever 
 will become of Jewel and Zit ? ' 
 
 He groaned, sighed, and turned over on the 
 bank towards the scanty grass and short moss 
 that covered the marl, and laid his face in that. 
 The girl held his hand, and knelt by him. 
 Presently he raised his head and said,* Arter all, 
 Zit, we did a fine business, what wi' the tea and 
 what wi' the flails. Them as didn't cost us 
 eighteenpence sold for one pun' thirteen and six 
 — tremenjous ! ' 
 
 * Now listen to me,' said Drownlands. 'This 
 horse of yours will never be able to get the van 
 along. I will ride home and fetch a team, and 
 we'll have the whole bag of tricks conveyed to 
 Prickwillow in a jiffy. I'll bring help, and we'll 
 lift you on to a feather tye.' 
 
 ' You will not play me false ? ' asked Zita. 
 ' Not I,' answered Ki, as he picked up the
 
 72 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 second flail ; ' trust me. I shall be back in half 
 an hour.' 
 
 He mounted his horse and rode away. The 
 girl watched him as he departed with some 
 anxiety ; then, as he departed into the darkness, 
 Zita seated herself on the bank, and endeavoured 
 to raise her father, that his head might repose 
 on her bosom. He looked at her and put his 
 arm about her neck. 
 
 ' You've been a good gal,' said he. ' You've 
 done your dooty to the wan and the 'oss and 
 me, and I bless you for it. That there tea as 
 we made out o' sweepins as we bought at 
 London Docks, and out o' blackthorn leaves as 
 we picked off the hedges and dried on the top 
 of the wan — 'twas a fine notion, that. Go on as 
 I've taught you, Zit, and you'll make a Cheap 
 Jack o' the right sort. One pun' thirteen and 
 six for them flails ! That's about one pun' 
 twelve profits. What's us sent into the world 
 for but to make profits ? I've done my dooty 
 in it. I've made profits. I feel a sort o' in'ard 
 glow, just as if I wos a lantern wi' a candle in 
 me, when I thinks on it. One pun' twelve — I 
 say, Zit, what's that per cent. ? I can't calkerlate 
 it now ; it's gone from me. One pun' twelve is 
 thirty-two. And thirty-two to one and an 'arf ' — 
 He heaved a long sigh. ' I be bad — I can't 
 calkerlate no more.' 
 
 Zita leaned over the sick man's face, and with 
 the corner of her gaily figured and coloured
 
 PROFITS 73 
 
 kerchief wiped his brow. His mind was wander- 
 ing. From silence and impatience of being 
 spoken to and having to exert himself to speak, 
 he had come to talk, and talk much, in rambling 
 strains. 
 
 ' Father, I've brought you some brandy from 
 the van. Take a drop. It may revive you.' 
 
 She put a flask to his lips. He found a diffi- 
 culty in swallowing, and turned his face away. 
 He had raised his head to the flask with an 
 effort ; it sank back on his daughter's bosom. 
 
 * Dad, how wet your hair is ! ' 
 
 * Things ain't as they ort to be,' said the Cheap 
 Jack sententiously. * I've often turned the world 
 over in my head and seed as the wrong side comes 
 uppermost. Then I'm sure I was ordained to 
 be a mimber o' parliament, but I never got a 
 chance to rise to it. How I could ha' talked the 
 electors over into bclievin' as black was white ! 
 How I could ha' made 'em a'most swallow any- 
 thing and believe it was apricot jam ! I could 
 ha' told 'em lies enough to carry me to the top 
 o' the poll by a thumping majority. It's lies 
 does it, all the world over — leastways with the 
 general public in England. It's lies sells 
 damaged goods. It's lies as makes 'em turn 
 their pockets out into your lap. It's lies as 
 carries votes. It's lies as governs the land. 
 The general public likes 'em. It loves 'em. 
 They be as sweet and dear to the general public 
 as thistles is to asses.'
 
 74 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Then he lay quiet, except only that he turned 
 his head from side to side, as though looking at 
 something. 
 
 ' What is it, dad ? ' 
 
 ' I thinks as I sees 'em — miles and miles, 
 going right away into nothing at all.' 
 
 'What, father?' 
 
 'The hawthorn hedges in full bloom, white 
 as snow — it's our own tea plantation, Zit, you 
 know — touched up wi' sweepins. When 
 the flowers fall, then the leaves will come, and 
 there'll be profits. Assam, Congou, Kaisow, Dar- 
 jeeling, Souchong — just what you like — and, in 
 truth, hawthorn leaves and sweepins — all alike. 
 There's profits — profits comin' in the leaves, 
 Zit.' 
 
 A light sleet was falling, and it gleamed in 
 the radiance of the lantern planted on the bank 
 near the dying man's head. 
 
 ' So you see, Zit,' he said, pointing into space, 
 ' the thorn leaves be fallin', — scores o' thousands, 
 — and the green leaves will come and bring 
 profits.' 
 
 ' What you see is snow that is coming down, 
 father.' 
 
 ' No, Zit. It's the thorns sheddin' their white 
 flowers to grow profits. Fall, fall, fall away, 
 white leaves.' 
 
 He remained silent for a while, and then began 
 to pluck at his daughter with the hand that 
 clasped her waist.
 
 PROFITS 75 
 
 'What is it, father?' 
 ' I ain't easy.' 
 
 * Shall I lift your head higher?' 
 "Tain't that. It's in my mind, Zit' 
 
 * What troubles you, dad ?' 
 
 ' That tin kettle wi' the hole in it. I've never 
 stopped it. Put a bit o' cobbler's wax into the 
 hole and some silverin' stuff over it, and you'll 
 sell it quick off. Nobody won't find out till they 
 comes to bile water in it.' 
 
 ' I'll do that, father. Hush ! I hear the horses 
 coming.' 
 
 * I don't want to go wi' them. I hears singing.' 
 
 * It is the wind whistling.' 
 
 ' No, Zit. It be the quiristers chanting in 
 Ely. Do you hear their psalm ? ' 
 
 ' No, we cannot hear them. They do not sing 
 at night, and are also too distant' 
 
 ' But I does hear 'em singing beautiful, and 
 this is the psalm they sing — " One pun' twelve 
 — and hawthorn tea at four shillin'. There's 
 profits." ' 
 
 He was sinking. He weighed heavy on her 
 bosom. 
 
 She stooped to his ear and whispered, 'Are 
 you happy, father?' 
 
 'Happy? In course I be. One pun' twelve 
 on them flails, and four shillin' on thorn leaves and 
 s weepins — there's profits — profits — tremenjous 1 ' 
 
 And he spoke no more.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MARK RUNHAM 
 
 NO sight in the Fens is so solemn, so touch- 
 ing, as a funeral. There are no grave- 
 yards in the Fens. There is no earth to which 
 the dead can be committed — only peat, and this 
 in dry weather is converted into dust, and in rain 
 resolved into a quagmire. A body laid in it 
 would be exposed by the March winds, soddened 
 by the November rains. 
 
 Consequently the dead are conveyed, some- 
 times as many as nine miles, to the islets — to 
 Ely, to Stuntney, or to Littleport, wherever 
 there is a graveyard ; and a graveyard can only 
 be where there is an outcrop of blue clay. For 
 a funeral, the largest cornwain is brought forth, 
 and to it is harnessed a team of magnificent 
 cart-horses, trimmed out with black favours. 
 
 In the waggon is placed the coffin, and round 
 it on the wain-boards sit the mourners. The 
 sorrowful journey takes long. The horses step 
 along slowly, their unshod feet muffled in the 
 
 76
 
 MARK RUNHAM 77 
 
 (Just or mire, and their tread is therefore noise- 
 less. But their bells jingle, and now and then 
 a sob breaks forth from one of the mourners. 
 
 Two waggons bearing dead men took the 
 road to Ely. In one sat a single mourner, Zita ; 
 and this waggon preceded the other. The 
 second was full, and was followed by a train of 
 labourers who had been in the service of the 
 deceased, and of acquaintances who had roistered 
 or dealt with him. 
 
 A cold wind piped over the level, and rustled 
 the harsh dun leaves of the rushes in the 
 dykes. Royston crows in sable and white 
 stalked the fields, dressed as though they also 
 were mourners, but were uninvited, and kept at 
 a distance from the train. Lines of black wind- 
 mills radiated from every quarter of the heavens, 
 as though they were mourners coming over the 
 fens from the outermost limits to attend the 
 obsequies of a true son of the marshland. 
 
 To the south-west stood up the isle of Ely, 
 tufted with trees ; and soaring above the trees, 
 now wan against a sombre cloud, then dark 
 against a shining sky, rose the mighty bulk of 
 the minster, its size enhanced by contrast with 
 the level uniformity of the country. 
 
 Although it cannot be said that no suspicion 
 of foul play was entertained relative to the 
 death of Jake Runham, yet nothing had trans- 
 pired at the coroner's inquest that could in any 
 way give it grounds on which to rest ; nothing
 
 7S CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 that could in the smallest degree implicate 
 Drownlands. 
 
 Runham had drunk freely at the tavern at 
 Ely, and he had ridden away 'fresh/ as a 
 witness euphemistically termed it, implying 
 that he was fuddled. He had started on his 
 home journey with a single lantern, in itself 
 likely to occasion an accident, for it vividly 
 illumined one side of the way and unduly 
 darkened the other. Some one in the tavern 
 yard had commented on this, and had advised 
 the extinction of the single light as more calcu- 
 lated to mislead than none at all. 
 
 Horse and man had been discovered in the 
 water about a mile above the drove that led to 
 Crumbland, his farm. Runham had been found 
 with his legs entangled in the stirrups. Possibly, 
 had he been able to disengage himself when 
 falling, he might have escaped to land. Cer- 
 tainly the horse would have found its way out ; 
 but the weight of the rider had prevented the 
 poor beast from reaching the bank. It was 
 observed that Runham had gone into the canal 
 on his right hand, and that the lantern had 
 been slung to his left foot. 
 
 There were, it was noticed, contusions on the 
 head and body of the deceased, but these were 
 easily accounted for without recourse to the 
 supposition of violence. At intervals in the 
 course of the Lark piles were driven into the 
 banks to protect them against the lighters, and
 
 MARK RUNHAM 79 
 
 horse and man might have been carried by the 
 stream, or in their struggles, against these 
 stakes, and thus the abrasions of the skin and 
 the bruises might have been produced. 
 
 Something was, indeed, said about a recent 
 quarrel between the dead man and his neigh- 
 bour, Drownlands ; but then, it was asked, 
 when, for the last nineteen years, had there 
 been an occasion on which they had met with- 
 out quarrelling? The quarrel, according to 
 report, had been inconsiderable, and had con- 
 cerned nothing more than a flail for which both 
 men had bidden high. Furthermore, Drown- 
 lands, it was ascertained, had been detained on 
 his way to Prickwillow, before reaching the spot 
 where the corpse had been found. He had 
 been detained by the Cheap Jack's daughter 
 on account of the Cheap Jack's sickness. It 
 was known that Drownlands had summoned 
 his men, and with a team of horses had removed 
 the van to his rickyard. He had been attentive 
 to the unfortunate vagabond, and had been at 
 his side till his death. 
 
 There was no specifying the exact hour when 
 Runham had fallen into the water, but, as far as 
 could be judged, it must have been about the 
 time when Drownlands was occupied with the 
 Cheap Jack. 
 
 A floating suspicion that Ki might have had 
 a hand in the death of Jake did exist, but there 
 was nothing tangible on which a charge could
 
 8o CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 be based. On the contrary, there was a great 
 deal to show that he was not present ; enough 
 to free him from suspicion. 
 
 When the funerals were over, — and both had 
 taken place simultaneously, the graves being 
 adjacent, one chaplain performing the service 
 over both, — then the waggons returned. That 
 in which the Cheap Jack's coffin had been con- 
 veyed to its last resting-place was empty. Zita 
 declared her intention to walk. 
 
 Those who had walked behind the waggon of 
 Runham were taken up into it, the horses started 
 at a trot, and both conveyances were soon far 
 away, and appeared as specks in the distance, 
 
 Zita walked slowly along the road. She was 
 in no hurry. She had to resolve what she was 
 to do for her maintenance. 
 
 Should she pursue the same trade as her 
 father ? Would it be safe for her to do so ? At 
 times there was a good deal of money in the 
 van ; and if she, a young girl, were alone, she 
 might be robbed. She had abundance of ready 
 wit, she had assurance, she had at command the 
 stock-in-trade of old jokes used by her father, 
 and was perfectly competent to sell goods and 
 reap profits. But the purchase of the stock had 
 been managed by her father, and with that part 
 of the business she was not conversant. Could 
 she manage the van and its stores and the horse 
 alone ? If not alone, then whom might she take 
 into partnership with herself? Not another
 
 MARK RUNHAM 81 
 
 girl. A man it must be; but a man — that 
 would not do for other reasons. The girl 
 coloured as she walked and pondered on the 
 perplexed question of her future. 
 
 She then considered whether it would be 
 advisable for her to dispose of her van and its 
 contents. But she saw that she could do so 
 only at a ruinous loss. Her situation would be 
 taken advantage of. The damaged goods would 
 not sell at all, unhelped out in the exaggerations, 
 lies, the flourish and scuffle of a public auction. 
 All the articles were not, indeed, like the tin 
 kettle and the ' own plantation tea.' Some were 
 really good. A majority were good, but the 
 collection was spiced with infirm and defective 
 articles. 
 
 If she did dispose of the van and her stock, 
 what should she do with herself? Into service 
 she could not go — the bondage would be intoler- 
 able. Into a school she could not go — she had 
 no education. To become a dressmaker was 
 not possible — she could not cut out. To enter 
 a factory of any sort was hardly to be con- 
 sidered. She knew no trade. She could befool 
 the general public — that was her sole accom- 
 plishment. 
 
 As she walked along, musing on her diffi- 
 culties, she was caught up by a young man, 
 dressed in deep mourning. At first he made 
 as though he would pass her by, for he was 
 walking at a greater pace than hers, but after a 
 6
 
 82 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 few steps in advance he halted, turned back, 
 and said in a kind tone — 
 
 ' We are both orphans. You lost your father 
 on the same night as that on which I lost mine. 
 They have been buried on the same day, and 
 the same service has been read over both. I am 
 Mark Runham ; you are the Cheap Jack girl.' 
 
 ' Yes, I am Cheap Jack Zita.' 
 
 ' I could not call you by any other name ; 
 your real name I did not know. Let us walk 
 together, unless you desire to be alone.' 
 
 * Oh no.' 
 
 * When I was in the waggon, with my dead 
 father in the coffin before me, I looked forward, 
 and then I saw you — you, poor little thing, 
 sitting alone, with your head bowed down over 
 your father's coffin. I thought it infinitely sad. 
 You were all alone, and I had so many with 
 me.' 
 
 Zita turned her face to him. 
 
 ' You are very kind,' she said. 
 
 ' Not at all. My heart is sore because I have 
 lost my father — but there is so much to take 
 the sharpness off my pain ; I have my mother 
 alive. And you ? ' 
 
 ' My mother has been dead these five years.* 
 
 ' And I have many relatives, and more friends. 
 But you?' 
 
 ' I have none. I am alone in the world.' 
 
 * And then I have house and lands. And 
 you ? '
 
 MARK RUNHAM 83 
 
 ' I have the van.' 
 
 'A wandering house — no real house. What 
 are you going to do with yourself? ' 
 
 'That is just what I was considering as I 
 walked along,' 
 
 ' Will you tell me your plan ? ' 
 
 ' I have none. I have not resolved what to 
 do.' 
 
 ' I am glad that I have caught you up. I 
 sent on the waggon. I had to stay behind and 
 make arrangements with the undertaker and 
 the clerk. I am glad I remained ; it has given 
 me the opportunity of speaking with you. Our 
 mutual losses make us fellows in sorrow, and 
 you seem to me so piteously lonely. Even when 
 I was in the wain my eyes wandered to you, 
 and with my eyes went my thoughts. I could 
 not fail to consider how much greater was your 
 desolation than mine.' 
 
 Again Zita turned to look at the young fellow 
 who spoke. He had fair hair, bright blue eyes, 
 a fresh, pleasant face, frank and kindly. 
 
 ' I think you sold something to my father,' he 
 said ; ' I have heard the chaps talk about it. 
 You sold it middling dear. A flail — and he 
 paid a guinea for it.' 
 
 ' Yes, I sold a flail for a guinea, and another 
 for twelve and six. Mr. Drownlands bought 
 one of them.' 
 
 ' And my father the other. I was not at the 
 fair when that took place, but folk have talked
 
 84 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 about it. I think, had I been there, I would 
 have prevented my father bidding so high. The 
 flail was not found with him when he was 
 recovered from the river.' 
 
 ' No ; it was on the bank.' 
 
 ' It was probably carried down by the Lark,' 
 said he, not noticing her words, ' and went out 
 in the Wash.' 
 
 The flail ! Zita was surprised. One flail she 
 knew that Drownlands held when she met him, 
 the other she had herself picked up, and had 
 used to prevent him from continuing his course, 
 and to compel him to assist her father. 
 
 She stood still and considered. The matter 
 was, however, of no consequence, so she stepped 
 on. If she found the flail at Prickwillow, she 
 would take it to Crumbland. It belonged to 
 Mark Runham by right. 
 
 * What is it ? ' asked the young man, surprised 
 at her look of concentrated thought. 
 
 ' It is nothing particular,' she answered ; 'some- 
 thing occurred to me — that is all. But it is of 
 no matter.' 
 
 * I should like to know what is going to 
 become of you,' said the young man. * Have 
 you no kindred at all ? ' 
 
 * None that I know of.' 
 ' And no home?' 
 
 ' None, as I said, but the van. When that is 
 sold, I shall have none at all.' 
 ' But you have friends ?
 
 MARK RUNHAM 85 
 
 ' A friend — yes — Jewel, the old horse. Well, 
 he ain't so old, neither. I call him old because 
 I love him.' 
 
 * I say, when you've made up your mind what 
 to do with yourself, come to our farm, Crumb- 
 land, and tell me.' 
 
 ' That's blazin' impudence,' said Zita. * If 
 you want to know, you can come and ask of 
 me.' 
 
 ' I cannot do that. Do you not know that 
 my father and Ki Drownlands were mortal 
 enemies ? I cannot set foot on his soil, or he 
 would prosecute me for trespass. If I went to 
 his door, I would be met with something more 
 than bad words.' 
 
 ' Why were they enemies ? ' 
 
 ' I do not know. They have been enemies as 
 long as I can remember anything. Well, you 
 will let me have some tidings concerning you. 
 I will come out on the embankment near Prick- 
 willow, and }'0U can come there too. It is so 
 dreadful that you should have no one to care 
 for you, and no place as a home to go to. If I 
 can help you in any way tell me. My mother 
 is most kind. As it has chanced that we have 
 both been made orphans at one time, and as 
 our two fathers were buried, as one may say, 
 together, and as we are walking home together, 
 it seems to me that it would be wrong and 
 heartless were I to do nothing for you. To sit 
 and nestle into my home and comforts at Crumb-
 
 86 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 land and see you wander forth desolate and 
 alone — the Pharisee couldn't have done half so 
 bad with the poor man by the wayside, and I 
 won't. I should never forgive myself. I should 
 never forget the sight of the poor little lass in 
 black, with the coffin in the great waggon, all 
 alone.' 
 
 'You are kind,' said Zita, touched with the 
 honest, genuine feeling his tones expressed. * I 
 thank you, but I want no help. I have money, 
 I have goods, I have a horse, and I have a home 
 on wheels. And I have — what is best of all — a 
 spirit that will carry me along.' 
 
 ' Yes ; but one little girl is a poor and feeble 
 thing, and the world is very wide and very 
 wicked, and terribly strong. I'd be sorry that 
 this bold spirit of yours were crushed by it.' 
 
 ' Here is the place where I live,' said Zita. 
 
 'Yes, that's Prickwillow drove. Here am I, 
 eighteen years old, and I have never been along 
 it — never been on Drownlands farm, along of 
 this quarrel. And what it was all about, blessed 
 if I or any one else knows ! ' 
 
 Zita lingered a moment at the branch of the 
 road. Mark put out his hand, and she took 
 it. 
 
 'I'll tell you what,' said she; 'you've been 
 kind and well-meanin' with me, and I'll give 
 you a milk-strainer or a blacking-brush, which- 
 ever you choose to have.' 
 
 Mark Runham was constrained to laugh.
 
 MARK RUNHAM 87 
 
 Til tell you which it is to be next time we 
 meet ; to-morrow on the embankment — ^just 
 here. Remember, if you are short of anything 
 beside a milk-strainer or a blacking-brush — it 
 is yours.'
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 PRICKWILLOW 
 
 A SLEEPLESS night followed the day of 
 the funeral. Zita needed rest, but ob- 
 tained none. She had brain occupied by care 
 as well as heart reduced by sorrow. She had 
 loved her father, the sole being in the world to 
 whom she could cling, her sole stay. The 
 wandering life she had led prevented her con- 
 tracting friendships. Since her father's death 
 she had lain at night in the van. This convey- 
 ance was so contrived as to serve many purposes. 
 It was a shop, a kitchen, a parlour, an eating- 
 house, a carriage, a bank. The goods were 
 neatly packed, and were packed so close that 
 the inmates could very commodiously live in the 
 midst of their stores. There was a little cooking 
 stove in it. There were beds. There was, 
 indeed, no table, but there were boxes that 
 served as scats and as tables, and the lap is the 
 natural dinner-table every man and woman is 
 provided with.
 
 PRICKWILLOW 89 
 
 When the front of the van was raised so as to 
 shut up the shop for the night, the crimson plush 
 curtains with their gold fringe and tassels con- 
 cealed the board on which so much trade had 
 been carried on during the day. There was a 
 window at the back that admitted light. The 
 stove gave out heat, and the inmates of the 
 travelling shop settled themselves to their 
 accounts, and then to rest. 
 
 The accounts were calculated not in a ledger, 
 but on their fingers, and balanced not on paper 
 but in their heads. 
 
 When darkness set in, then a lamp illumined 
 the interior, and the little dwelling was suffused 
 with a fragrance of fried onions and liver, or 
 roast mutton chops — something appetising and 
 well earned ; something for which the public 
 had that day paid, and paid through its nose. 
 The horse had been attended to, and then the 
 father sat on a bench, pipe in mouth and legs 
 stretched out, and occasionally removed the pipe 
 that he might inhale the fumes of the supper his 
 daughter was preparing. Cheap Jack had 
 possessed a fund of good spirits, and his good 
 humour was never ruffled. He had been the 
 kindest of fathers; never put out by a mishap, 
 never depressed by a bad day's trade, never 
 without his droll story, song, or joke. But for 
 a fortnight before his death he had failed in 
 cheeriness and flagged in conversation. The 
 work of the day had become a burden instead
 
 90 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 of a pleasure, and had left him so weary that he 
 could often not eat his supper or relish his pipe. 
 
 He had combated his declining health, and 
 endeavoured to disguise the advance of disease 
 from the eyes of Zita. But love has keen sight, 
 and she had noted with heartache his gradual 
 failure of spirits and power. Till then no thought 
 as to her own future had occupied her mind. 
 Now that the dear father was gone, Zita had no 
 one on whom to lean. No other head than her 
 own would busy itself about her prospects, no 
 other heart than her own concern itself about 
 her to-morrow. 
 
 She was kindly treated at Prickwillow. The 
 van was placed under cover, and the horse 
 provided with a stall. 
 
 The housekeeper, a distant relative of Ki 
 Drownlands, was hearty in her offers of 
 assistance, and the maid-of-all-work, who was 
 afflicted with St. Vitus' dance, nodded her kindly 
 good wishes. Both Drownlands and the house- 
 keeper had urged Zita to accept the accommoda- 
 tion of the house, in which were many rooms 
 and beds, but she had declined the invitation ; 
 she was accustomed to van life, and could make 
 herself comfortable in her wonted quarters. She 
 needed little, and the van was supplied with 
 most things that she required. There were in it 
 even sufficient black odds and ends to serve her 
 for mourning at her father's funeral. What was 
 there not in the van ? It was an epitome of th^
 
 PRICKWILLOW 91 
 
 world, it was a universal mart, a Novgorod Fair 
 sublimated to an essence. 
 
 'What are you about?' asked Drownlands. 
 
 He had come into the yard behind the farm- 
 house, and he saw Zita engaged in harnessing 
 the horse. The front was down, and on it stood 
 a milk-strainer, some blacking-brushes, and a flail. 
 
 ' What are you about ? Whither are you 
 going ? ' 
 
 Drownlands was a tall man, with a face like a 
 hawk, and dark bushy brows that stood out over 
 his eyes and the root of his nose. 
 
 * I am going,' answered Zita. 
 
 ' Going ? Who told you to go ? ' 
 ' I am going to be an inconvenience no longer.' 
 ' Who told you you were an inconvenience ? ' 
 ' No one, but I know that I am not wanted. 
 
 I thank you for what you have done, and will 
 
 pay you.' 
 
 ' Pay me ? Who said a word about payment? ' 
 
 * No one, but of course I pay. Mark Runham 
 — I think that was his name — was kind to me, 
 — that is to say, he spoke civil to me,— and I'm 
 going to pay him for good words with a milk- 
 strainer. You have done me good deeds, and I 
 will pay you. Get into the van and pick out 
 what you like up to five pounds. Do you want 
 door-mats ? There's a roll o' carpet, but I don't 
 recommend it, and there's tinned goods.' 
 
 Drownlands stared at the girl. Then his eyes 
 rested on the flail
 
 92 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' What have you got that for? It was in my 
 house.' 
 
 ' Yes. You took it in. Ikit it is not yours. 
 It belongs to Mark Runham. His father bought 
 it of us. He gave a guinea for it. I picked it 
 up on the bank when I overtook you. You had 
 your flail in your hand. You would have ridden 
 on and left me and my father in the lurch, but I 
 stood in the way with that flail. It is not mine. 
 I have the guinea I received for it in my purse. 
 Now that the old man is dead, for certain it 
 belongs to his son. That is why I am taking 
 it to him.' 
 
 ' He shall not have it ! He must not have 
 it ! ' exclaimed Drownlands. ' How came you 
 to know Mark Runham ? ' 
 
 ' The young man walked from his father's 
 funeral. So did I. He walked the fastest, and 
 he caught me up. He spoke kindly, and so I 
 shall pay him for it with a milk-strainer, or, if 
 he prefers it, with blacking-brushes.' 
 
 ' Give him the blacking-brushes, by all means,' 
 
 * Or the milk-strainer? ' 
 
 ' Or the milk-strainer ; but not the flail.' 
 
 * It is his,' said Zita. ' The old man paid down 
 his money for it.' 
 
 ' Give him back the money, not the flail. 
 Here'— 
 
 Drownlands thrust his hand into his pocket, 
 and drew a handful of money, gold, silver, copper, 
 mixed, from it, and extended it to the girl.
 
 PRICKWILLOVV 93 
 
 * Here ! you said you would pay me for what 
 I have done. Pay me with the flail. I want 
 nothing more. Then I have the pair ; or if you 
 wish to restore the guinea — take it.' 
 
 * The flail was bought. It is no longer mine.' 
 Drownlands stamped, put out his hand and 
 
 snatched the flail from the board on which it 
 stood. 
 
 * He shall not have it. I will accept nothing 
 else.' 
 
 ' Then I must give the young man its value 
 — a guinea's worth of goods.' 
 
 ' Do so, and take the pay from me.' 
 
 ' I will let him have your mats, and I'll tell 
 him that you ' — 
 
 'Tell him nothing. Not a word about the 
 flail. That is all I ask of you. Say nothing. 
 If you owe me anything for what I have done 
 for your father and you, then pay me by your 
 silence.' He mused for a moment, then caught 
 the girl by the arm and drew her after him. 
 ' Come and see all I have.' 
 
 He led her athwart the rickyard to where 
 were ranged his stacks of wheat — two, each 
 forty paces long, with a lane between them. 
 Down this lane he conducted her. ' Look,' said 
 he, ' did you ever see such ricks as these ? No, 
 nowhere out of the Fens. Do you know how 
 much bread is in them ? No, nor I. It would 
 take you many years to eat your way through 
 them ; and every year fresh wheat — as much as
 
 94 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 this — grows. There are rats and mice in these 
 stacks. They sit therein and eat their fill, they 
 rear their families there. What odds is that to 
 me? A few more rats and mice — a few more 
 mouths in the house — I care not. There is 
 plenty for all' Then he drew Zita into another 
 yard that was full of young stock, bullocks and 
 heifers. 
 
 * Look here/ said he. * Do you see all these ? 
 How much meat is on them ? How long would 
 it take you to eat them? Whilst you were 
 eating, others would be coming — that is the 
 way of Nature. Nature outstrips us ; it shovels 
 in with both hands, whilst we take out with 
 one — so is it, anyhow, in the Fens. What is 
 another cut off a round of beef to such as me ? ' 
 
 Then he strode to the stables, threw open 
 the door, and said, * There are stalls for horses ; 
 there is hay in the loft to feed them, oats in the 
 bins to nourish them. What odds to me if there 
 be one more horse in the stalls ? Here ! ' he 
 called to one of his men. * Take the Cheap 
 Jack horse out of the van-shafts again and 
 bring him to this stable.' 
 
 Zita endeavoured to free herself from his grasp. 
 
 ' No,' said Drownlands ; ' you have not seen 
 all. You have been about the world, I dare- 
 say ; seen plenty of sights ; but there is one 
 thing you have not seen before, — a fen-farm, 
 — and it is a sight to unseal your eyes. Come 
 along with me.'
 
 PRICKWILLOW 95 
 
 He held her wrist with the grip of a vice, 
 and now drew her in the direction of the 
 kitchen. 
 
 'Look!' said he. 'What is that? That is 
 our fuel. That is turf What do we pay for 
 keeping ourselves warm in winter ? Nothing. 
 I have heard say that some folks pay a pound 
 and even forty shillings for a ton of sea-coal. 
 And for wood they will pay a guinea a load. 
 We pay nothing. The fuel lies under our feet. 
 We take off a spit of earth, and there it is for 
 the digging, some ten — fifteen — twenty feet of 
 it. It costs us no more than the labour of 
 taking up. Do I want a bit of brass ? I go to 
 market, and say I have ten acres of turf to sell 
 at sixty pounds an acre. A dozen hands are 
 held up. I get six hundred pounds at once. 
 That is what I call making money. Come on. 
 You have not seen all yet' 
 
 He drew her farther. He pulled her up the 
 steps to the door, then turned, and, pointing to 
 a large field in which were mounds of clay at 
 short intervals, he said — 
 
 ' Do you see that ? What is done elsewhere 
 when land is hungry, and demands a dressing ? 
 Lime is brought to fertilise the exhausted soil. 
 We in the Fens never spend a shilling thus. 
 If we desire dressing, we dig under the turf, and 
 there it lies — rich, fat clay — and spread that 
 over the surface. That is what it is to have a 
 fen- farm. Come within now.'
 
 96 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 He conducted Zita through the door, and 
 threw open the dairy. 
 
 * Look,' said he. ' See the milk, the churns, 
 the butter. Everything comes to us in the 
 Fens. Butter is a shilling a pound, and there 
 are twenty-eight pounds there now. There will 
 be as much next churning, and all goes as fast 
 as made. Touch that churn. Every time you 
 work it you churn money. Come on with me 
 farther.' 
 
 He made the girl ascend the stairs, and as he 
 went along the passage at the head of the stair- 
 case, he threw open door after door. 
 
 ' Look in. There are many rooms ; not half 
 of them are occupied, but all are furnished. 
 Why should I stint furniture? I have money 
 — money ! See ! ' He drew her into a small 
 apartment, where were desk and table and 
 chairs. It was his office. He unlocked a safe 
 in the wall. 
 
 * See ! I have money here — all gold. Come 
 to the window.' 
 
 Drownlands threw open the casement. Below 
 was the yard, in which were the young cattle, 
 trampling on straw and treading it into mire. 
 He thrust his hand into his pocket, drew forth 
 a handful of coins, and, without looking what 
 he held, — whether gold, or silver, or copper, — 
 he threw it broadcast over the bullocks and 
 heifers. Some coins struck the backs of the 
 beasts, and bounded off" them and fell among
 
 PRICKWILLOW 97 
 
 the straw, some went down into the mud, and 
 was kneaded in by their feet. 
 
 * What is money to me ? It grows, it forces 
 itself on me, and I know not what to do with 
 it. I can throw it away to free myself of the 
 trash and more comes. It comes faster than I 
 can use it ; faster than I can cast it away. Now, 
 girl — Cheap Jack girl — now you know what a 
 fen-farm is. Now you see what a fen-tiger 
 can do. You remain at Prickwillow with me. 
 I will shelter you, feed you, clothe you, care for 
 you. Eat, drink, sleep, laugh, and play. Work 
 a little. All is given to you ungrudgingly.' 
 
 He put the flail to his knee and endeavoured 
 to break it, but failed. Then he cast it into the 
 corner of the room, where was a collection of 
 whips, sticks, and tools. 
 
 'There,' said he, 'all I ask is — not a word 
 about my having been on the embankment. 
 Not a word about the flail — least of all to 
 Runham. I have my reasons, which you do 
 not understand, and which you need not know.' 
 
 Zita hesitated. She had not expected such 
 an ofier. She doubted whether she could con- 
 tentedly settle into farm life. 
 
 ' You were about to leave,' continued Drown- 
 lands, * or rather to try to leave. But how could 
 that horse of yours draw the van out of the 
 Fens? You know how it was when you came 
 this way. The wheels sank, and the horse was 
 powerless. I sent my team, and only so could 
 7
 
 98 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 we draw the van along. Never, unassisted, 
 could you reach Littleport or Ely, not, at all 
 events, in winter. When you got into the drove 
 the wheels would sink again, and I should send 
 my team and drag the van back here once 
 more. You have got your feet into the peat 
 earth and clay, and are held fast. Listen to me. 
 Supposing you did get a little way and then 
 stick, and I were angry at your departure, and 
 refused to come to your aid and draw you back 
 to Prickwillow, what then ? Let me tell you 
 what would happen were you left out all night 
 unprotected, sunk to the axle in the fen. There 
 are slodgers in the fen ; there are tigers, as they 
 call them here — plenty round Littleport. That 
 story of the sale of the flails is spread and talked 
 about. It is known that you have money. It 
 is known that your father is dead. Do you 
 think there are not men who, for the sake of 
 what money you have, would not scruple to 
 steal on you in the dark, to come up like rats 
 out of the dykes, like foxes from the holes, and 
 take your money, and nip that brown throat 
 of yours to prevent peaching? If you think 
 there are not, then you think differently of the 
 Fens and the fen-men than do I who have 
 lived in the Fens and among the tigers all my 
 days. Come ' — 
 
 He put his hand to her throat and pinched 
 it. 
 
 ' This, and your body found in a drain, black
 
 PRICKVVILLOW 99 
 
 in fen-water, of a morning. This on one side ; 
 on the other, my offer of a home, protection — 
 everything.' 
 
 Zita withdrew from his grasp with a shudder. 
 
 ' I accept your offer,' she said ; ' I can do no 
 other. There is no choice in the matter.' 
 
 ' You are right there,' said he, with a laugh. 
 ' To you there is no choice.'
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 RED WINGS 
 
 DAYS passed ; Zita had settled into Prick- 
 willow. She was given her own room, 
 and into that she removed the contents of the 
 van. The walls were lined with the stock in 
 trade, and the crimson and gold curtains fes- 
 tooned the window. 
 
 A chamber in a farmhouse seemed to Zita 
 bare and comfortless after the well - covered 
 interior of the shop on wheels. She could not 
 rest till she had hidden the naked walls, and 
 brought her room into some resemblance to the 
 interior of the rolling house she had inhabited 
 for so many years. But she had further reasons 
 for accumulating the stores in her own apart- 
 ment. The van was in an outhouse, and was 
 exposed to damp, with its attendant evils, moth, 
 rust, and mildew, that would make havoc of her 
 property if exposed to them. 
 
 Zita made herself useful in the house. She 
 considered that she could not accept the offer 
 
 100
 
 RED WINGS 101 
 
 made her of shelter and sustenance without 
 acknowledgment of a practical nature, and as 
 she was endowed with energy and intelligence, 
 she speedily adapted herself to the work of a 
 farmhouse. She found that there was need 
 for her hand. The housekeeper was without 
 system, and disposed to abandon to the morrow 
 whatever did not exact immediate attention. 
 The maid with St. Vitus' dance was a worker, 
 but required direction. Zita had been com- 
 pelled to be tidy through the exigencies of van 
 life. In the travelling shop a vast number of 
 very various goods had to be packed into a small 
 compass, and the claims of trade had obliged 
 her to keep every article in the brightest con- 
 dition, that it might look its best, and sell — 
 if possible — for more than its intrinsic value. 
 Accordingly, not only did Zita see that every- 
 thing was in its place, but also that everything 
 was furbished to its brightest. She was nimble 
 with her fingers in plying the needle, and took 
 in hand the household linen, hemmed the sheets, 
 attached buttons, darned holes, and put into 
 condition all that was previously neglected, and 
 through neglect had become ragged, and was 
 falling to premature decomposition. 
 
 The girl noticed that Drownlands watched 
 her at her work, but she also saw that he 
 averted his eyes the moment she gave token 
 that she perceived his observation ; she was 
 aware, not only that she interested him, but
 
 102 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 that he, in a manner and in a measure, feared 
 her. 
 
 She had a difficult course to steer with Lee- 
 hanna Tunkiss, the housekeeper, who had re- 
 ceived the tidings that Zita was to become an 
 inmate of the house for some len^jth of time, 
 with doubt, if not disapproval. The woman, 
 moreover, resented the improvements made by 
 the girl as so many insults offered to herself. 
 To hem what had been left ragged was to pro- 
 claim to Drownlands and to the quaking help- 
 maid, that Leehanna had neglected her duty; to 
 sew on a button that had been off the master's 
 coat for a week, was to exhibit a consideration 
 for his interests superior to her own. 
 
 At the outset, before the funeral, the woman 
 had been gracious, believing that Zita was but 
 a temporary lodger. When she found that she 
 was likely to become a permanent resident, her 
 manner towards her completely altered. 
 
 One afternoon, when Zita had nothing par- 
 ticular to engage her, she wandered along the 
 drove, and then rambled from it across the 
 fields. 
 
 A frost had set in on the day of her father's 
 funeral, and had ever since held the earth in 
 fetters. It was one of those severe frosts that 
 so often arrive in November, and sweep away 
 the last traces of summer, clear the trees of the 
 lingering leaves, and then sere the grass that is 
 still green.
 
 RED WINGS 103 
 
 It was one of those early frosts which 
 frequently prove as severe as any that come 
 with the New Year. The clods and the ruts of 
 the drove were rigid as iron. It would have 
 been difficult to move the van when the way was 
 a slough, it was impossible now that it was 
 congealed. The lumps and the depressions 
 were such as no springs could stand, and no 
 goods endure. Pots would be shivered to atoms, 
 and pans be battered out of shape. Whatever 
 Zita may have desired, perhaps hoped, she 
 recognised the impossibility of leaving her 
 present quarters under existing circumstances. 
 A thaw must relax the soil, harrows and rollers 
 must be brought over the road, before a wheeled 
 conveyance could pass over it. Finding it 
 difficult, painful even, to walk in the drove, 
 where there was not a level surface on which 
 the foot could be planted, Zita deserted it for a 
 field, and then struck across country towards 
 a mill, the sails of which, of ochre-red, were 
 revolving rapidly. The fields are divided, one 
 from another, by lanes of water. The fen-men 
 all leap, and pass from field to field by bounds 
 — sometimes making use of leaping- poles. 
 With these latter they can clear not the ditches 
 only, but the broad drains or loads. 
 
 Zita was curious to see a mill. From one 
 point she counted thirty-six, stretching away in 
 lines to the horizon. She had hitherto known 
 windmills only for grinding corn. Here the
 
 104 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 number was too considerable, and their dimen- 
 sions too inconsiderable, for such a purpose. 
 
 Lightly leaping the dykes, she made her way 
 towards the red-winged mill. As she approached, 
 she saw that the mill was larger than the rest, 
 that it had a tuft of willows growing beside it, 
 and that, on an elevated brick platform, whereon 
 it was planted, stood as well a small house, 
 constructed, like the mill, of boards, and tarred. 
 This habitation was a single storey high, and 
 consisted, apparently, of one room. 
 
 On the approach of Zita, a black dog, stand- 
 ing on the platform with head projected, began 
 to bark threateningly. Zita drew near notwith- 
 standing, as the brute did not run at her, but 
 contented itself with protecting the platform, 
 access to which it was prepared to dispute. 
 
 Then Zita exclaimed, 'What, Wolf! Don't 
 you know me ? Haven't you been cheap-jack- 
 ing with us for a couple of months, since father 
 took you off the knife-swallowing man ? We'd 
 have kept you, old boy, but didn't want to have 
 to pay tax for you, so sold you, Wolf.' 
 
 The dog had not at first recognised Zita in 
 her black frock ; now, at the sound of her voice, 
 it bounded to her and fawned on her. 
 
 A girl now came out from the habitation, 
 called, 'What is it, Wolf?' and stood at the 
 head of the steps that led to her habitation, 
 awaiting Zita. 
 
 * Who are you ? ' asked the girl on the platform
 
 RED WINGS 105 
 
 She was a sturdy, handsome young woman, 
 with fair hair, that blew about her forehead in 
 the strong east wind. Over the back of her 
 head was a blue kerchief tied under her chin, 
 restraining the bulk of her hair, but leaving 
 the front strands to be tossed and played with 
 by the breeze. She was, in fact, that Kainie 
 whose acquaintance we have already made. 
 
 ' I believe that I know who you are,' she said. 
 
 She had folded her arms, and was contem- 
 plating her visitor from the vantage-ground of 
 the brick pedestal that sustained mill and cot. 
 * You are the Cheap Jack girl, I suppose ? ' 
 
 ' Yes. I am Cheap Jack Zita. And who are 
 you ? ' 
 
 * I — I was christened Kerenhappuch, but 
 some folks call me Kainie and Kenappuch. 
 I answer to all three names. It's no odds to 
 me which is used. What do you want here?' 
 
 ' I have come to look at the mill. What is its 
 purpose ? You do not grind corn ? ' 
 
 ' Grind corn ? You're a zany. No ; we 
 drive the water up out of the dykes into the 
 drains. Come and see. Why, heart alive! 
 where have you been ? What a fool you must 
 be not to know what a mill is for ! Step up. 
 Wolf won't bite now he has recognised you. 
 If you'd been some one else, and tried to step up 
 here, and me not given the word to lie still, he'd 
 have made ribbons of you.' She waved her 
 arms towards the low wooden habitation. ' I
 
 io6 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 lives there, I does, and so did my mother afore 
 me. Some one must mind the mill, and a 
 woman comes cheaper than a man. Besides, 
 it ain't enough work for a man, and when a 
 man hasn't got enough work, why, he takes to 
 smoking and drinking. We women is different ; 
 we does knitting and washing. We's superior 
 animals in that way, we is. Here I am a stick- 
 at-home. I go nowhere. I have to mind the 
 mill. You are a rambler and a roll-about — 
 never in one place. It's curious our coming to 
 know one another. What is your name, did 
 you say ? ' 
 
 ' Zita — Cheap Jack Zita.' 
 
 ' Zita ? That's short enough. No wonder 
 with such a name you're blowed about light as 
 a feather. It'd take a thundering gale to send 
 Kerenhappuch flying along over the face of the 
 land. Her name is enough to weight her. Now, 
 what do you want to see ? Where does your 
 ignorance begin ? ' 
 
 * It begins in plain blank. I know nothing 
 about mills.' 
 
 * My mill is Red Wings. If you look along 
 the line to Mildenhall and count ten, then you'll 
 see Black Wings. Count eight more, and you 
 have White Wings.' 
 
 The girl threw open a door and entered the 
 fabric of the mill, stepping over a board set 
 edgewise. She was followed by Zita. 
 
 Nothing could be conceived more simple,
 
 RED WINGS 107 
 
 nothing more practical, than the mechanism of 
 the mill. The sails set a mighty axletree in 
 motion, that ran the height of the fabric, and 
 this beam in its revolution turned a wheel at the 
 bottom, that made a paddle revolve outside the 
 mill. This paddle was encased in a box of 
 boards, and at first Zita could not understand the 
 purpose of the mechanism, not seeing the paddle. 
 
 ' Would you like to climb ? ' asked Kainie. 
 ' Look ! I go up like a squirrel. You had best 
 not attempt it. If your skirts were to catch in 
 the cogs, there'd be minced Cheap Jack for 
 Wolfs supper. I'm not afraid. My skirts 
 seem to know not to go near the wheels, but 
 yours haven't the same intelligence in them. 
 A woman's clothes gets to know her ways. 
 Mine, I daresay, 'd be terrible puzzled in that 
 van of yours.' 
 
 ' Don't you talk to me about petticoats,' said 
 Zita. ' Petticoats to a woman is what whiskers 
 is to a cat. They have feeling in them. A 
 cat never knocked over nothing with his 
 whiskers, nor does a woman with her skirts if 
 she ain't a weaker fool than a cat.' 
 
 Then up the interior of the mill ran Kainie, 
 with wondrous agility, playing in the framework, 
 whilst the huge axletree turned, and the oak 
 fangs threatened to catch or drag her into the 
 machinery. 
 
 ' Do come down,' said Zita. ' I do not like to 
 see you there.'
 
 io8 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 But it was in vain that she called ; her voice 
 was drowned in the rush of the sails, the grind- 
 ing of the cogs, and the creak of the wooden 
 building. 
 
 Presently Kainie descended, as rapidly as she 
 had run up the ribs of the mill. 
 
 ' Mother did not let me do it when she was 
 alive,' said the mill girl. ' But I did it all the 
 same. Now, what next? Come and see this.' 
 
 She led Zita outside, and took her to the 
 paddle-box, flung open a door in it, and exposed 
 the wheel that was throwing the water from the 
 ' dyke ' up an incline into the ' load ' at a con- 
 siderably higher level. 
 
 ' It licks up the water just like Wolf, only it 
 don't swallow it. There's the difference. And 
 Wolf takes a little, and stops when he's had 
 enough ; but this goes on, and its tongue is 
 never dry.' 
 
 ' Does the mill work night and day?' 
 
 ' That depends. When there's no wind, then 
 it works neither night nor day, but goes to sleep. 
 But when there has been a lot of rain, and the 
 fen is all of a soak — why, then, old Red Wings 
 can't go fast enough or long enough to please 
 the Commissioners. Look here ; the water has 
 gone down eighteen inches in the dyke since 
 this morning. Red Wings has done it. He's 
 not a bad sort of a chap. He don't take much 
 looking after. There's a lot of difference in 
 mills ; some arc crabbed and fidgety, and some
 
 RED WINGS 109 
 
 are sly and lazy. Some work on honest and 
 straight without much looking after, others are 
 never doing their work unless you stand over 
 them and give them jaw. It's just the same 
 with Christians.' 
 
 ' And what is that long pole for ? ' asked Zita. 
 
 ' That, Miss Ignorance, is the clog. I can 
 stop the wings from going round if I handle 
 that, or I can set the sails flying when I lift the 
 clog. Come here. I'll teach you how to 
 manage it' She instructed Zita in the use of 
 the clog. ' There ! ' said she ; * now you can 
 start the mill as well as I can, or you can stop it 
 just the same. You've learned something from 
 me to-day. I hope you won't forget it.' 
 
 ' No ; I never forget what I am taught' 
 
 ' Not that it will be of any use to you,' said 
 Kainie. ' You're never like to want to set a 
 mill going.' 
 
 ' Perhaps not ; but I know how to do that, 
 and it is something. There is no telling 
 whether I may want it or not' 
 
 ' It's as easy as giving a whack to the hoss 
 who draws the van,' said Kainie. 
 
 ' Now,' said Kainie, after a pause, ' this here 
 hoss of mine has reins too. Do you see those 
 two long poles, one on either side, reaching to 
 his head ? Them's the reins ; with them I turn 
 his head about so that he may face the wind. 
 That's the only way in which my hoss can go. 
 Now come and see where I live,'
 
 no CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 She led the way to her habitation, which was 
 beyond the sweep of the wings. 
 
 ' It's small, but cosy,' said Kerenhappuch. 
 ' No one can interfere with me, for Wolf keeps 
 guard. But, bless you, who'd trouble me? I've 
 no money. And yet one does feel queer after 
 such things as have happened.' 
 
 'What things?' 
 
 ' Ah ! and it is a wonder to me how you or 
 any one can abide in the same house with 
 him.' 
 
 ' With whom ?' 
 
 ' Why, with Ki Drownlands. Though he be 
 my uncle, I say it.' The girl's face darkened. 
 ' He never spoke to my mother, his own sister ; 
 never helped her with his gold, and he rich and 
 we poor. The Commissioners gave us our place, 
 not Uncle Drownlands.' 
 
 'Who are the Commissioners?' 
 
 'You are a silly not to know. Every man 
 who owns a couple of score acres in the Fens 
 is a Commissioner. And the Commissioners 
 manage the draining, and levy the rates. They 
 have their gangers, their bankers, their millers 
 — I'm one of their millers. No,' said Kainie 
 vehemently. * No thanks to Ki Drownlands for 
 that.' She grasped Zita by the shoulders, 
 put her mouth to her ear, and said in a half 
 whisper, ' It was Uncle Ki who killed Jake 
 Runham.' 
 
 Zita drew back and stared at her.
 
 RED WINGS III 
 
 ' I am sure of it,' said Kainie ; ' and there be 
 others as think so too, but durstn't say it. But 
 there is nothing hid that shall not come to light. 
 Some day it will be said openly, and known to 
 all, that Ki Drownlands did it'
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 TIGER-HAIR. 
 
 ZITA walked back in the direction of Prick- 
 willow with a weight on her heart and 
 her mind ill at ease. Incidents half observed 
 rose in her memory and demanded considera- 
 tion — as in a pool sunken leaves will rise after 
 a lapse of time and float on the surface. Facts 
 that had been indistinctly seen and scarce re- 
 garded, now assumed shape and significance. 
 
 She recalled the incidents of the night of her 
 father's death, and marshalled them in order 
 with that nicety and precision that marked 
 her arrangement of the goods in the van. She 
 remembered how that she had seen two men 
 ride along the bank, one after another, with an 
 interval of some minutes intervening between 
 them, as they passed above where she had been 
 with the van and her father. The first rider 
 had been furnished with two lanterns to his 
 feet. She had let him pass without attempting 
 to arrest him. That man she now knew was 
 
 112
 
 TIGER-HAIR 113 
 
 Hezekiah Drownlands. Then, after a lapse 
 of some minutes, a second rider had passed, 
 going in the same direction. He had carried 
 a single lantern attached to his left stirrup. 
 To him she had run, him she had brought to 
 a standstill, and she had asked and been re- 
 fused his assistance. That man was Jeremiah 
 Runham. 
 
 Zita next recalled every particular of her 
 run along the bank after the second rider. She 
 now distinctly remembered having seen a glitter 
 of several lights before her, a cluster of lights 
 leaping and falling, flashing and disappearing. 
 How many these had been she could not recall. 
 They had changed position, they were not all 
 visible at once. At the time, in her distress of 
 mind, she had not counted them. But she was 
 now convinced that the lights which she had 
 seen, and seen in one constellation, had been 
 more than two. A single star would have 
 represented Runham. Two stars would have 
 indicated Drownlands. More than two — that 
 showed that the men had been together. 
 Further, she had heard shouts and cries. At 
 the time, as she ran, she had supposed that 
 these were in response to her appeals for assist- 
 ance ; but when she had reached Drownlands, 
 the only man on the bank she did come upon, 
 then, as she now recalled, he was startled at her 
 appearance, as if it were wholly unexpected. 
 He could not, therefore, have called in answer 
 8
 
 114 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 to her cries. But where was the third light? 
 What had become of Runham? 
 
 When she had reached Drownlands no third 
 light was visible, whereas a minute previously 
 there had certainly been more than two before 
 her. What had become of the second rider? 
 
 It was, of course, conceivable at the time that 
 the third light had been extinguished, and the 
 second rider was in full career along the bank 
 in the direction he desired to go. But such an 
 explanation was no longer admissible when it 
 was known that this rider was dead, and had 
 been drowned in the river. When Zita con- 
 sidered that this rider, Runham, had been found 
 in the water, with the light of life as well as 
 that of his lantern extinguished, and when she 
 remembered that she had picked up the flail he 
 had been carrying at the spot where she came 
 up with Drownlands, it appeared certain to her 
 that Drownlands must have witnessed, if he 
 did not cause, the death of Runham, It was 
 possible that Runham, returning tipsy from 
 market, may have urged his horse on one side, 
 so as to pass the man before him, and so have 
 plunged into the river ; and it was possible 
 enough that Drownlands had chosen to main- 
 tain silence on the matter, lest any admissions 
 on his part might have been construed into an 
 accusation of having caused the death of his 
 adversary. 
 
 Zita was turning these thoughts over in her
 
 TIGER-HAIR 115 
 
 mind when she reached the embankment She 
 started to walk along it. She was confident 
 that she could fix the spot where she had 
 slipped into the water, and that was but about 
 a hundred paces from where she had come up 
 with Drownlands. She remembered to have 
 observed there a post in the water that had in 
 it a mortice - hole, like an eye, and that the 
 head was so indented and rugged as at one 
 moment to make her suppose it was a human 
 face. 
 
 As has already been stated, there had been 
 sufficient frost to harden mud into rock. Traces 
 of a scuffle — if a scuffle had taken place — would 
 be recognisable still to an eye that knew pre- 
 cisely where to look for them. 
 
 Zita went with nimble feet, a busy brain, and 
 fluttering heart towards the point where the van 
 had been arrested in the mud, and she resolved 
 thence to follow the course she had taken on 
 that eventful night along the bank. On this 
 occasion she walked deliberately where she had 
 previously run, and came after a while to the 
 spot where, according to her calculation, she had 
 slipped into the canal. There she found the 
 post standing up out of the water to which she 
 had clung, close to the bank, with the mortice- 
 hole in it that had looked so like a human eye. 
 This was the only post of the kind she had 
 come across, and this was not more than a 
 hundred yards from the spot where she had
 
 ii6 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 grasped Drovvnlands' foot, had held him, and 
 had heard him scream at her touch. 
 
 At this point, some hundred yards beyond the 
 post with the hole in it, she carefully explored 
 the soil. The top of the embankment was in- 
 dented with hoof-marks, but these might have 
 been made by the gangers' horses, which were 
 constantly driven up and down the embank- 
 ment. But there was something that satisfied 
 the girl that at this spot a struggle had taken 
 place, for on the land side of the embankment 
 tufts of grass and clods of clay had been torn 
 out and thrown into the drove, and on the water 
 side hoof-marks and a slide in the greasy marl 
 were sealed up by the frost as evidences of a 
 horse having there gone down into the water. 
 These had not been observed by any one else, as 
 no one save Zita had known the exact place 
 where to look for them, and though distinguish- 
 able enough when searched for, they were not 
 obtrusively manifest. 
 
 Zita had not merely a well-arranged mind, 
 but she was able to prize whatever facts came 
 before her at their true value. 
 
 Now, as she walked away from the river to- 
 wards Prickwillow, she realised that there was 
 strong presumptive evidence that Drownlands 
 had been engaged in a tussle with his enemy, 
 and that he knew how it was that Runham had 
 met his death, even if he were not absolutely 
 his murderer.
 
 TIGER-HAIR n? 
 
 As Zita entered the house, she heard the 
 master's voice raised in tones of anger. He 
 was addressing Mrs. Tunkiss, the house- 
 keeper. 
 
 'It's all idle excuse — you don't want the 
 trouble of it. I know your ways.' 
 
 'I haven't a needle will go through it,' 
 answered Leehanna. 
 
 Then Drownlands came out of the kitchen. 
 He was swinging in his hand the tiger-skin that 
 usually in cold or wet weather was slung over 
 his shoulders. His eye lighted on Zita, and his 
 face brightened at once. 
 
 ♦Look here, you Cheap Jack girl,' said he. 
 'The servants are idle curs, both of them. I 
 want Leehanna Tunkiss to mend my skin. I 
 have torn it. A few threads will suffice, and 
 she declares she has no needle that will go through 
 the leather. It's all idleness and excuse.' 
 
 * I will do it,' said Zita. ' We have all sizes 
 and sorts of needles in stock — for cobblers, 
 tailors, and all.' 
 
 She took the tiger-hide out of his hand. 
 
 ' That's my greatcoat — my mantle by day 
 and my rug and coverlet by night,' said Drown- 
 lands. ' I wear no other. We, who have been 
 born and bred in the Fens, folk are pleased to 
 call fen-tigers. That is why I got this skin. 
 Ten, fifteen years ago it was for sale in Ely, and 
 I bought it as a fancy, and have come to think 
 I can't do without it. Folks have got to
 
 ii8 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 know me now by it, and call me the Fen-tiger 
 King. Can you mend it ? ' 
 
 Turning the skin about, Zita said, ' It has 
 been given a wrench — tremenjous.' 
 
 'Well, so it has, and there is a rip as well. 
 If it is not drawn together now, it will go worse. 
 I don't want to wear rags, and I won't, that's 
 more — though Leehanna would have me, to 
 save trouble. It is easier to find an excuse than 
 to run threads with a needle.' 
 
 ' I will do it,' said Zita. ' But you must suffer 
 me to take it to my room, that I may find a 
 suitable needle and stout thread.' 
 
 * Yes, take it,' said Drownlands, with his 
 beetling brows drawn together and his eyes 
 fixed on her from below them. * Yes, Chestnut- 
 hair! you can do everything. In your store 
 you keep everything but excuses.' 
 
 ' We could not sell them/ said Zita. 
 
 ' And it is with excuses Leehanna serves me,' 
 he replied, and looked sideways angrily at his 
 housekeeper, who retreated muttering into the 
 kitchen. 
 
 Then Drownlands went out, and Zita retired 
 to her room to accomplish the task she had 
 undertaken. As she turned the hide about, she 
 was struck with the evidence it gave of having 
 been wrenched and twisted with great strain of 
 violence. The wrench was no ordinary one, 
 produced by the catching of the skin in a nail 
 or door. The hide was in one place stretched
 
 TIGER-HAIR 119 
 
 out of shape by the force exerted on it ; not 
 only so, but it had been contorted. Again, on 
 closer investigation, it appeared that some of 
 the hair had been ripped out by the roots, by 
 this means exposing the bare hide. 
 
 As Zita worked at the repair, her busy brain 
 occupied itself with the causes of this strain 
 and rent : how they could have been produced, 
 why the tension had been so excessive. 
 
 That Drownlands had not ridden to Ely on 
 the fair-day with his skin torn she was con- 
 vinced by his asking to have it mended now ; 
 whereas, had it been in this condition before 
 fair-day, he would have required it to be re- 
 paired before riding into Ely. Drownlands was 
 eccentric in his dress, but he was also punctilious 
 about its neatness. The injury done to the 
 tiger-skin must have been done since Tawdry 
 fair-day. All at once Zita dropped needle and 
 twine, started up, left her room, and went to 
 that which Drownlands used as his office, the 
 apartment into which he had conducted her 
 when he showed her his money. 
 
 Into the corner of this room he had flung the 
 flail that he had taken from her when she was 
 about to leave his farm and to return it to Mark 
 Runham ; the flail she had picked up on the 
 bank was that Runham the elder had bought 
 from her for a guinea. 
 
 Zita knew that Drownlands was out, she had 
 seen him go to the stables across the yard.
 
 I20 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 He had not returned. She had not heard his 
 voice or step in the house since. Into the office 
 she was justified in penetrating, for the master 
 had asked her to keep it in order for him. 
 Leehanna Tunkiss neglected it, on the excuse 
 that she was afraid of disarranging his papers 
 and books. Zita knew that both flails were in 
 this room ; that which Drownlands had bought 
 was suspended to a nail, the other was in the 
 corner where he had cast it. 
 
 Zita took both flails and examined them. 
 She saw that they had been subjected to rough 
 usage. The wood was bruised in both. It had 
 not been so when they left her hands in the 
 afternoon of Tawdry Fair. The flappers were 
 dinted, and there was a deep bruise in the 
 'handfast' of one. Both had been employed to 
 strike, and both had clashed against each other. 
 
 Zita replaced Drownlands' flail on the nail 
 whence she had unhitched it, and took a further 
 look at that which had belonged to Runham. 
 
 She now observed that the leather thongs 
 that attached the flapper to the handfast were 
 twisted, stretched, and strained, and that in the 
 twist was a tuft of hair precisely similar to that 
 v{ the tiger-skin. 
 
 She detached some of this hair, took it to her 
 room, and compared it with that still in place 
 on the hide. There could no longer be any 
 question but that a struggle had taken place 
 between the two men, that they had fought
 
 TIGER-HAIR 121 
 
 with the flails, that in course of the contest 
 the flail of Runham had become entangled in 
 the hide worn by Drownlands, and that the 
 flail had been twisted, and so had strained and 
 torn the skin. 
 
 In this case Drownlands most certainly knew 
 of the death of his adversary, and had had some 
 hand in it 
 
 Zita knew enough, and she shuddered at the 
 thought that she was enjoying the hospitality 
 of a murderer.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ON BONE RUNNERS. 
 
 HEIGH! Cheap Jack girl ! ' 
 Zita was out enjoying the crisp, frosty 
 air, on the frozen soil, sparkling under the 
 winter sun. 
 
 The November frost had continued, and 
 canals and rivers were iced over as well as 
 dykes and drains. God's plough was in the 
 soil — that is what country folk say when the 
 frost cuts deep into the earth. Where God's 
 plough has been, there golden harvests are 
 turned up to gladden all sorts and conditions 
 of men, and golden harvests turn to metallic 
 gold in the pockets of the farmers. 
 
 Every fen man, woman, and child can skate. 
 As soon as a child has found its legs, it essays 
 to slide, and when it can slide, it attempts to 
 skate. Fen skating is inelegant. Speed alone 
 is considered, and legs and arms fly about in 
 all directions. With scorn does the fen -man 
 contemplate the figuring of the fine gentleman 
 pn the ice. 
 
 122
 
 ON BONE RUNNERS 123 
 
 In winter, skating matches come as thick as 
 do football matches elsewhere. Parish is pitted 
 against parish, fen against fen, islet contests 
 with islet ; even the frequenters of one tavern 
 are matched against the frequenters of another. 
 
 During a hard frost, locomotion for once 
 becomes easy and speedy in the Fens. Men 
 and women skate to market, children to school, 
 and smugglers run their goods from King's Lynn. 
 
 Zita had gone to the river side to see a sight 
 that was novel to her. As she stood watching 
 the skaters, Mark Runham came to the bank 
 side, his cheeks glowing, his fair hair blowing 
 about his ears, his eyes sparkling as though 
 frost crystals were in them. 
 
 ' I say, Cheap Jack, get on your patines and 
 come.' Skates are termed patiiies in the Fens. 
 
 * If you mean skates, I have none. Besides, 
 I do not know how to use them.' 
 
 ' Not got patines ? Not know how to use 
 them? Then take a ride in my sleigh. I'll 
 run you along. Stay here a {<i\\ minutes till 
 I have brought it' 
 
 He was gone, flying down the river like a 
 swallow, and in ten minutes he had returned, 
 drawing after him a little sledge, and stayed 
 his course on the frozen surface of the Lark 
 before Zita. 
 
 ' It's fine fun,' said he, with a voice cheery as 
 his smile. ' I'll run you where you like to go ; 
 to Rossall Fits if you will — to Littleport — down
 
 124 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 to the sea — up to Cambridge — to the end of the 
 world — anywhere you will.* 
 
 ' Take me for a short distance only.' 
 
 ' Then seat yourself in the sledge. We shall 
 go as the wind.' 
 
 Zita descended the bank to the ice. 
 
 * Look ! ' said he ; ' do you see how my sleigh 
 is made ? It is set on the leg-bones of a horse. 
 It runs on them in prime style. They wear as 
 steel, and slip along better.' 
 
 With her face radiant with happiness, Zita 
 placed herself in the little sleigh. 
 
 Then with a merry ' Whoop ! ' off he started 
 down the river. The wind rushed in Zita's face, 
 sharp and fresh, and drove the blood to her 
 cheeks. 
 
 They passed many ' patiners,' men and boys. 
 There were (ew women out. Later, when the 
 sun set, they would skate along the frozen 
 surface to the tavern. The tavern is an institu- 
 tion in the Fens more frequented than elsewhere, 
 and frequented without scruple, not by men 
 only, but by women as well. There is a reason 
 for this. The fen-water is undrinkable. There 
 are no springs in the Fens. Those who live near 
 the rivers derive thence their tea water ; river 
 water is potable and harmless when boiled, that 
 which is drawn from the peat is neither. Con- 
 sequently the inhabitants of the Fens are com- 
 pelled to drink something other than water, 
 and instinctively seek that something other at
 
 ON BONE RUNNERS 125 
 
 the public-houses. When the woman's work- 
 day is over, she dons her patines and is off to 
 the ' Fish and Duck,' or the ' Spade and Becket,' 
 the ' Pike and Eel,' or the ' Sedge Sheaf,' to 
 moisten her dust-dry clay. 
 
 As Zita flew along the ice, she laughed for 
 joy of heart. Never had she travelled so fast. 
 Her wonted pace had been that of the snail, 
 for she had made progress in a heavily-laden 
 van, drawn by a depressed and stolid horse. 
 She was whirled past one of the main pumps 
 for throwing the water of the loads into the 
 river, and before she conceived it possible, she 
 had passed a second. And these engines, as 
 Mark told her, were two miles apart. Jewel's 
 fashion of travelling was very different from 
 that of ]\Iark. Along the smoothest and most 
 level road he had been accustomed to crawl, 
 and then, after having made his pulses throb 
 and his sweat break out, to stand still, with 
 head down, to revive himself. Then nothing 
 would induce him to proceed till he considered 
 himself refreshed, when he would stumble on 
 for a couple of miles, and again pause. But 
 Mark flew along as though he would never 
 know exhaustion, and there was no bringing 
 him to a standstill. 
 
 After several vain attempts to arrest him, 
 Zita succeeded. He stood beside her sleigh 
 with a smile on his pleasant face, and with the 
 steam blowing from his nostrils.
 
 125 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'You must not go too far,' said Zita. 'We 
 have come a long way from Prickwillow.' 
 
 ' What ! arc you tired ? You have not been 
 dancing on sketches?' 
 
 ' I do not understand your meaning.' 
 
 ' Sketches ? — does that word puzzle you as 
 did patines? They are what some folk call 
 stilts. I can run on them like a crane. But 
 sketches are cumbrous, and, when the fen is soft, 
 tire one speedily.' 
 
 ' Let us return now.' 
 
 ' No indeed. You have nothing to call you 
 back. That fellow Drownlands, old scoundrel, 
 — I beg your pardon, — will not be angry with 
 you and thrash you, I suppose?' 
 
 ' He is not at home. He has gone abroad 
 for the day.' 
 
 ' Then come along. We will visit Newport.' 
 
 ' Please do not take me much farther.' 
 Why not? Are you not enjoying the run ? ' 
 
 ' I love it.' 
 
 ' Then away we go. You are not afraid of 
 travelling, with me as your horse?' 
 
 She looked straight into his bright, honest 
 face, and laughed. 'No — you are too good for 
 any one to fear you.' 
 
 ' How do you know that ? ' 
 
 ' You carry honesty in your eyes, and " good 
 boy " written across your brow.' 
 
 ' It is time for me to run,' laughed Mark, * or 
 my head will be turned.'
 
 ON BONE RUNNERS 127 
 
 He buckled himself to his task, pranced from 
 side to side, swinging the little sleigh to right 
 and left, in his light-hearted frolic, and then 
 away he went, running the sleigh with Zita in 
 it straight along the canal. 
 
 The flatness, the monotony of the Fens, the 
 absence of unshackled nature, the treelessness 
 of the region, the lack of everything that can 
 arrest the changing lights and passing shadows, 
 combine to make the district one to send a chill 
 into the mind of the visitor. Flat as the sea, 
 it is devoid of its diversity of tint and tumul- 
 tuous or glassy beauty. Nevertheless, the fen 
 exercises a charm over the mind and holds with 
 a spell the heart of the native. He can live 
 nowhere else. He will not emigrate. He feels 
 bound to spend all his days in the fen. Only 
 when the vital spark expires does bis body 
 leave the turf to repose in the clay of the islet 
 graveyards. That the farmer and landowner 
 should love the (en is not marvellous, because 
 of the richness of the soil and the profits they 
 make out of it ; but why the labourer should 
 cling to the spongy turf is not so explicable. 
 He may be discontented, and be a grumbler, 
 but he is discontented with his lot, and envies 
 the taverner or the smuggler on the Fens, 
 grumbles at the hardness of his work or the 
 lowness of his pay ; but he is not discontented 
 because the fen is so flat, and he has no word 
 against its hideousness, or, at least, its uniformity.
 
 128 CHEAP JACK ZITA ' 
 
 One reason why the labourer in the Fens does 
 not think of leaving it may be that he uses tools 
 there different from those employed elsewhere, 
 and he would have to learn his trade anew, 
 employ unfamiliar tools, and be subjected to 
 ridicule when handling them awkwardly. It is 
 strange, but true, that those men are more 
 naturally prone to leave their homes who 
 inhabit mountainous lands than such as dwell 
 in level districts. 
 
 How far was Mark going? How Zita flashed 
 past the windmills, some of which had their 
 sails in motion ! A little rising ground showed, 
 with some trees clustered on it — that must be 
 Littleport. 
 
 ' Mark,' said Zita suddenly, ' I want to ask 
 you a question.' 
 
 ' Say on,' said he, and relaxed the speed at 
 which he was spinning her along, and finally 
 came to a standstill. How pretty she was, with 
 her glowing cheeks, her cherry lips, the light of 
 the winter sun in her soft hazel eyes and in her 
 rich, burnished, chestnut hair! How pretty 
 that hair was now, in some confusion, puffed 
 out of its order, the coppery strands on her brow, 
 one down her cheek ! The wildness of her 
 appearance thus untidied by the wind made 
 her more than ever charming. 
 
 Mark looked with eyes that could not be 
 satiated with looking. 
 
 But it was not merely her beauty that struck
 
 ON BONE RUNNERS 129 
 
 him. It was the exuberant happiness that 
 seemed to be bursting forth at her eyes, running 
 out of her little head in every shining hair, 
 glowing in those bright-tinted cheeks, burning 
 in those carnation-red lips. 
 
 'Well, my dear little Zita, what is it?' 
 
 ' Mark, it is something I have thouglit about 
 and have puzzled over. It seems strange to 
 speak about it now — now when I am so joyous 
 — and it is connected with things so sad to me 
 and to you.' 
 
 'But what is it, little rogue?' 
 
 'Mark, that terrible night when your father 
 and mine died ' — She paused. 
 
 ' Well, Zita ? ' 
 
 ' Then — before his death, I mean— before the 
 death of my own dear daddy, and I can't say 
 whether it was before or after yours was drowned 
 — I heard such a strange, such an awful sound.' 
 
 ' Where ? ' 
 
 ' In the sky — above ; like the barking of dogs. 
 It was just as though a hunter was going by 
 with his pack. Shall I tell you what I thought 
 it? It was just as if the dogs had smelt the 
 fox, and gave tongue. Was it not dreadful? 
 I could see nothing ; I could hear— that was 
 all.' 
 
 ' I think nothing of that,' said Mark. ' I know 
 
 our fen-folk say it is the devils running after a 
 
 human soul. They have snuffed it from the 
 
 bottomless pit, then the Great Hunter of Souls 
 
 9
 
 I30 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 opens the kennel door, and out they burst, 
 yelphig, snapping, panting, and come after it' 
 
 • Oh, Mark ! ' 
 
 ' But if the soul be very nimble, it runs before 
 them, runs on the wind, swift as an arrow, and 
 slips in at heaven's gate, and then the evil spirits 
 yelp and bay and bark outside. But it is all 
 fudge and nonsense. I believe that the sound 
 comes from the wild geese.' 
 
 ' I shall ever think of this. Oh, I hope I shall 
 never hear that dreadful sound again. My dear 
 father — no — he would certainly escape those 
 hounds. They would never catch him. For 
 him the Golden Gate would be opened, and the 
 dogs be shut outside. He was so gentle, so 
 kind, so true. Oh, I loved him so — so much!' 
 And thereupon the brightness was gone out of 
 the sunny little face, and it was bathed in tears. 
 
 'Put all this aside. Think no more of it.' 
 
 'They were in full pursuit when I heard 
 them.' 
 
 'The geese? And you are a little goose if 
 you think more of this.' 
 
 ' Mark, may I never hear that sound again !' 
 
 ' Or, if you do, Zita, may I be near you to 
 laugh your fears away. No, not laugh — kiss 
 them away, as I do now.' 
 
 ' Mark ! you are a naughty boy ! I did not 
 think it of j'ou.' 
 
 The roses had come back, and the glow was 
 returned, and in one cheek deeper than the other.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 PIP BEAMISH 
 
 ' f~^ O go on and leave me alone/ said Zita. 
 ±_y Then again the young man sped for- 
 ward with the sledge, at full speed on his skates. 
 There was a glow of something more than health 
 — something more than the reaction produced 
 by the fresh wind — in his cheeks. 
 
 ' Here's a joke ! ' exclaimed Mark, stopping 
 for a moment. ' I see quite a throng round 
 Beamish's mill.' 
 
 Again he went on. And Zita, looking in the 
 direction he had indicated, saw that a consider- 
 able number of persons was collected, some on 
 the banks, some on the ice, and as many as 
 could be accommodated on the brick platform 
 of a windmill. 
 
 Without halting, Mark said, 'The paddle 
 can't go because of the frost, but Pip Beamish's 
 tongue can wag, and when it wags it is for 
 mischief. He is a restless, dissatisfied rascal. 
 We'll go and hear what he has to say.' 
 
 131
 
 132 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Mark stayed the sledge when he reached the 
 outer ring of the congregation that was gathered 
 together about the mill. 
 
 The day was Sunday, so no work was being 
 done. There were idlers everywhere, specially 
 on the ice. In present days there is little 
 church-going in the Fens, in former days there 
 was none. Churches are few and far apart. 
 In mediaeval times the monks of Ely had 
 chapels on every islet that rose a few feet 
 above the meres, and they boated from one 
 to another, gathering around them for divine 
 service and moral instruction the aquatic popula- 
 tion of the Fens. With the Reformation these 
 chapels were let fall into ruin, and care for the 
 souls of the fen-dwellers ceased. The canons 
 of the cathedral were wealthy and idle, and it 
 never so much as occurred to their sleepy, 
 stagnant consciences that they had duties to 
 perform towards the inhabitants of the district 
 whence they drew their revenues. 
 
 When the meres were dried, and settlers 
 occupied the drained land, then the parochial 
 clergy were unable to cope with the altered 
 condition of affairs. The roads were impass- 
 able, the distances enormous, their incomes had 
 not increased with the alteration in the value 
 of the lands included in their vast parishes. 
 Consequently, the fen-folk came to think little 
 of their religious duties. The church towers 
 might serve as landmarks, but the church
 
 PIP BEAMISH 133 
 
 pastors were not spiritual guides. The only 
 form of religion that commended itself to an 
 amphibious population was Anabaptism, and 
 that mainly because it consisted of a good 
 souse in fen-water. A few of the sterner spirits 
 settled into the sect, but the bulk of the natives 
 grew up and lived without any religion at all ; 
 or, if they professed to be Christians, they took 
 care to allow it in no way to interfere with their 
 profits or their pleasures. 
 
 The assemblage about the mill consisted of 
 labouring men and their wives ; some were in 
 their Sunday clothes, but others had not taken 
 the trouble to 'clean' themselves. Such were 
 the men who lounged about on holidays with 
 springes and nets in their pockets, and a gun 
 barrel up the left sleeve. 
 
 A stool was planted close to the mill, and on 
 it stood a young man with high cheek-bones, 
 long dark hair, and glittering eyes under heavy, 
 bushy brows. He had unusually lengthy arms, 
 and at the extremities of the arms unusually 
 broad, flat hands. These he flourished about. 
 He drew in his elbows to his sides, and em- 
 phasised an appeal by suddenly throwing out 
 his arms and extending his fingers. Having his 
 back to the mill, which was constructed of boards, 
 what he said was audible to some distance. 
 The boards served as reverberators. 
 
 ' I say it is a sin,' shouted the orator. ' Here 
 be the farmers turning earth into corn, and corn
 
 134 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 into gold guineas, and the men as helps them 
 to do it ain't paid enough to keep body and 
 soul together. What was wheat a quarter only 
 a short while ago? It was one hundred and 
 twenty shillings and sixpence. Now it is 
 ninety-six shillings. And what are the wages ? 
 Seven to ten shillings. What is the difference 
 between seven shillings and ninety -six? 
 Eighty-nine, is it not ? That is what goes into 
 the farmers' pockets. Who do all the work? 
 And who get all the gains ? Look into every 
 stackyard and see what wheat is there for the 
 rats and mice to eat, — they are not begrudged 
 it, let them eat, — but you and your children 
 must starve. Why are not the stacks threshed 
 out? Because the farmers are waiting till the 
 wheat goes up to one hundred and twenty-six 
 shillings again. You may perish of hunger — 
 that is nothing to them. Your children may 
 run naked — that is nothing to them. You may 
 drink fen-water because you haven't twopence 
 to pay for a half-pint of beer — that is nothing 
 to them. You mayn't have a blanket to throw 
 over your beds this freezing weather — they don't 
 care. You may have the walls of your cots so 
 full of cracks that the wind whistles through 
 them — they don't care. Your hands have held 
 the plough, your hands have sown the corn, 
 your wives and children have hoed it three 
 times, you have reaped it, you have stacked it 
 — and there it stands for rats and mice to eat,
 
 PIP BEAMISH 135 
 
 till prices go up to one hundred and twenty-six 
 shillings. Ninety-six is not good enough for 
 them, — these bloodsuckers, — and you are content 
 to let things remain so. What I maintain is, 
 that you have a right to say to the farmers, 
 " Thresh out now while we are hungry ; the 
 price is too high even now for us, and why 
 should sad days for us be golden days for 
 you?"' 
 
 His address was received with applause. 
 
 Mark turned to Zita and said in a low tone, 
 * He is right after a fashion. I'll set to work 
 and thresh to-morrow. I'll let the labourers 
 who are on my farm have this corn ten per cent, 
 under market price. I cannot act fairer than 
 that.' 
 
 'And how is it with the millers?' pursued the 
 orator. ' Don't they take toll of every sack of 
 corn you send to them to be ground ? Are not 
 their pigs and cows kept fat on what the miller's 
 fist brings up out of your flour? As if it were 
 not enough that you were cheated by the farmer, 
 you must be cheated also by the miller. Pil- 
 laged in every way, pinched on every side, 
 trodden on by every one — that is your fate.' 
 
 His words met with applause. 
 
 ' We have gone on hoping, and we have been 
 disappointed. What good comes to us from 
 Parliament? None at all. What help do we 
 get from the laws ? The laws are made for the 
 benefit of the farmer, and not for the poor man.
 
 136 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 What good to us are magistrates — ^justices of 
 the peace? They are appointed to hold us 
 down, to fine and imprison us. They are the 
 farmer's friends, not the friends of the poor 
 man. We are told that Old Boney is the foe 
 of our country. Men are called from the 
 plough, plucked away from their wives and 
 children, to serve the king against this Bona- 
 parte. What does patriotism mean ? It means 
 loving the country where we are ill-treated and 
 starved, loving the king who never concerns 
 himself about us, loving the laws that oppress 
 us, loving the magistrates who imprison us, 
 loving the farmers who are sucking the marrow 
 out of our bones. I'm no patriot. As well ask 
 a poor prisoner to love his jail, shed his blood 
 in its defence. I'll tell you what it is, friends, 
 Heaven helps them who help themselves. No 
 good will come to us from waiting. Heaven is 
 silent so long as we bear and do nothing, but 
 Heaven will send its lightning and hailstones 
 when we take the matter into our own hands. 
 It was so in the day of battle in Gibeon ; then 
 the Lord cast down great stones from heaven 
 upon the oppressors of Israel, and made sun 
 and moon to stand still till they were cut to 
 pieces, smitten hip and thigh. The great stones 
 would have remained in the clouds, sun and 
 moon have taken their usual courses, had not 
 Joshua and Israel armed themselves to fight — 
 to right their own wrongs. So will it be again,
 
 PIP BEAMISH 137 
 
 so has it ever been, so will it be unto the end. 
 We must raise our hands to fight our fight, raise 
 our hands against our oppressors, or there will 
 be no help for us from on high. If you remain 
 hoping and doing nothing, then, as I said before 
 — to be trampled into the mud — that is your 
 fate.' 
 
 ' And to be thrashed and to be kicked out of 
 employ — that is what is laid up for you, you 
 rascal ! ' shouted an imperious voice. 
 
 Zita and Mark looked round, and saw behind 
 them Drownlands on his horse. 
 
 * I will see to you, Pip Beamish, as sure as 
 that I am a Commissioner,' continued the master 
 of Prickwillow. 'You were not set to tend a 
 mill that you might stump it and foment ill- 
 feeling. I shall report what you have said at 
 the next meeting of the Commissioners, and 
 shall have you cast adrift.' Then, turning to 
 the audience, Drownlands brandished his whip 
 and cried, 'As for the rest of you, disperse 
 instantly, or I will ride up and down among 
 you and lash you with my whip, and send you 
 skipping home.' 
 
 The crowd broke up into knots, then further 
 dissolved and dispersed. 
 
 ' I'll have your names, and see that you are 
 thrown out of employ. Get home at once, 
 before the whip is at your breech.' 
 
 The haughty, commanding tone of the man, 
 and the knowledge that he was one ready to
 
 138 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 execute his threats, seemed to make those 
 who hesitated consider that the better part of 
 valour was discretion, and they scattered in all 
 directions. 
 
 Drownlands, upright in his stirrups, looked 
 about him, marking those who seemed reluctant 
 to obey his orders. Then his eye rested on 
 Zita. His face changed immediately. 
 
 'You here?' 
 
 ' Mark ran me up in his sleigh.' 
 
 'Mark? Mark? What Mark? How dare 
 you come here without leave from me ? ' 
 
 ' I am not your servant I am not your 
 prisoner. I go where I choose. I do what I 
 will,' answered Zita, nettled at his tone. 
 
 ' Hallo ! ' scoffed Drownlands. ' What ! has 
 the mad folly of Ephraim Beamish infected your 
 little brain?' 
 
 ' My brain is sound enough. It is you. Master 
 Drownlands, who forget what your place is, and 
 what is mine. You are not my master. I am 
 not your servant. I pay my way. I am a lodger 
 at Prickwillow, nothing more. If I please to go 
 out for a run on the ice with Mark, I am not idle. 
 I have done my work in your house, and may 
 enjoy myself as I like.' 
 
 ' Do not bandy words with me.' 
 
 'It is of no use arguing with him,' whispered the 
 young yeoman. ' He is in one of his passions, 
 when he acts and talks unreasonably. Take no 
 notice of him.'
 
 PIP BEAMISH 139 
 
 'What are you whispering about? Making 
 mock of me?' roared Drownlands. 
 
 'Come, Cheap Jack,' said Mark, 'jump on to 
 the sleigh again ; and you, Master Drownlands,' 
 he looked at the horseman with a laugh, ' let us 
 race — you on the bank, I on the canal — and Zita 
 the prize.'
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 ON ONE FOOTING 
 
 ZITA was back at Prickwillow long before 
 the master. 
 
 She anticipated a scene with him and prepared 
 for it. He was wont to domineer in his house 
 and on the farm, and she had just seen how 
 he domineered and enforced his will on an 
 assemblage of men not under subjection to him. 
 
 She was sensible that he had gradually 
 assumed towards herself an air of authority, but 
 he had not hitherto addressed her in a dictatorial 
 tone so distinct as to provoke resistance. She 
 had, however, perceived that the time was 
 approaching when some understanding must be 
 reached as to her position and their mutual 
 relations. She was not a domestic in the house, 
 to be ordered about or to have her liberty cur- 
 tailed. She had accepted his hospitality, not 
 entered into his service. 
 
 Zita was alive to the fact that every one in 
 
 the house and on the farm — Mrs. Tunkiss, the 
 
 no
 
 ON ONE FOOTING 141 
 
 shaking maid-of-all-work, the herd, the labourers, 
 the stable-boy — all stood in awe of him. The 
 housekeeper was as a lamb under his reprimand ; 
 a word addressed to the girl with St. Vitus' 
 dance drove her into convulsions ; an order given 
 to the men galvanised them into momentary 
 agility and sent the boy skipping like a flea. 
 Zita despised them for their subserviency. She 
 was not afraid of Drownlands. She knew that 
 concerning him which was sufficient to make 
 him quake before her. 
 
 Zita had been accustomed to face men of every 
 description. Her father had stood between her 
 and coarse insult, but she had been obliged to 
 confront men rude, boisterous, and disposed to 
 take advantage of her weakness, and had acquired 
 readiness in dealing with them, and nerve not to 
 show timidity. 
 
 When she had seen the cringe and cower 
 of those whom Drownlands had threatened, she 
 tossed her chestnut gold head in a manner ex- 
 pressive of impatience. 
 
 Drownlands had noticed this, and Zita had 
 seen in his darkening brow that he had observed, 
 was surprised and offended at the contemptuous 
 action. The moment was not far off when he 
 would test his strength against hers. 
 
 'The sooner the better,' said Zita to herself; 
 and, instead of avoiding him, she went across the 
 yard to meet him as he rode up the drove. She 
 took his horse by the bridle and said, * I will
 
 142 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 lead him to the stable ; the men are at chapel or 
 the beerhouse, and the boy is with the cows.' 
 
 ' You won't curry favour by doing this,' said 
 Drownlands. 
 
 'Curry favour? I curry nothing. Currycomb 
 your horse yourself! ' 
 
 ' I want a word with you, Cheap Jack.' 
 
 'And I with you, Fen-tiger — we must settle 
 terms.' 
 
 ' Terms ? What terms ? ' 
 
 ' The price of my lodging.' 
 
 ' I do not understand you.' 
 
 ' I have a capital copper warming-pan,' said 
 Zita, ' with George and the Dragon on the lid. 
 A stunner. I've reckoned up what meat I've 
 ate, and all I've drunk, and the wear and tear of 
 knives, linen, dishes, and so forth, and I think 
 the copper warming-pan will cover it all.' 
 
 Drownlands had flung himself from his horse. 
 
 He stared at Zita; he did not in the least 
 seize her meaning. 
 
 ' If you don't care for a warming-pan,' she said, 
 * then there's half a dozen red plush weskits, with 
 gilded buttons and dogs' heads on 'em — you 
 can't wear all six, but take your choice and I'll 
 make up with scrubbing-brushes, starch, and blue. 
 I think the tiger-skin and a red weskit under it, 
 and them bushy eyebrows tied in a knot as they 
 be now, will make such a figure of you as will 
 drive babies and girls into fits.' 
 
 ' You are mocking me ! You dare to do that ? '
 
 ON ONE FOOTING 143 
 
 * I'm not mocking you, though I don't say I'm 
 not inclined to whisk a red vveskit before you, 
 when you stamp and blare like a bull — for fun, 
 you know. I love fun, but I am not mocking 
 you, I am too much obliged to you for receiving 
 me to do that.' 
 
 'I will turn you out — you and your van — into 
 the winter frost' 
 
 ' When ? To-morrow ? I am ready to go,' 
 
 'You shall not go!' exclaimed Drownlands, 
 coming round the head of the horse to her and 
 seizing her wrist. * You shall not go ; I know 
 why you want to leave me, I know whither 
 you want to go,' 
 
 'Whither?' 
 
 ' To Crumbland.' 
 
 ' I have not been invited there ; but if you 
 turn me out, I shall find a shakedown somewhere. 
 There is that girl Kenappuch at the mill. She'll 
 have me for certain, and I'll pay her ; not so 
 high as a v/arming-pan, but in currants and figs 
 and a roll of calico. The accommodation won't 
 be so good as yours, nor the feeding so liberal.' 
 
 ' You have got to know her also ? ' 
 
 'Yes,' 
 
 ' And Mark Runham ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; he has got to know me. That's the 
 way to put it.' 
 
 ' You are resolved to seek friends where I 
 disapprove — among those who are my enemies?* 
 
 ' I know nothing and care less about your
 
 144 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 quarrels. I've got acquainted with both, and 
 they are the only persons in the Fens for whom 
 I care' — 
 
 ' Oh, you care only for them.* 
 
 ' Outside Prickwillow. You cut me short 
 before I had finished my sentence. That is 
 bad manners. If we kept manners in stock, I'd 
 sell you a penn'orth.' 
 
 'Ah,' said Drownlands, for a moment relaxing 
 his iron grasp, 'you allow me some of your 
 regard ? ' 
 
 ' I always care for every one who is kind to me, 
 and you have been kind to both me and my poor 
 father.' At the mention of her father Zita's lips 
 and voice quivered, and tears filled her eyes. 
 'You were good to him. I do not forget that, 
 and I'll pay you for it in anything I have got 
 that you fancy. What do you say to smoked 
 mother-of-pearl buttons ? ' 
 
 'Will you be quiet?' roared Drownlands, 
 with an oath. 
 
 ' Or,' continued Zita, ' there are several pounds 
 of strong fish-glue. It went soft and got mouldy 
 in the van, but I got it dry in the kitchen and 
 wiped the mould off. It is all right now ; the 
 strength isn't taken out of it. A shilling a 
 pound is what it would cost you in Ely, but 
 as I offer it to you, I'll knock off twopence. 
 You shall have it for tenpence per pound — 
 so you see I do care for you, twopence in the 
 shilling.'
 
 ON ONE FOOTING 145 
 
 Drownlands' face darkened ; he pressed the 
 girl's wrist so that she uttered an exclamation 
 of pain. 
 
 * You hurt me,' she said ; ' that's something off 
 your account' 
 
 ' You are making a jest of me ! ' gasped the 
 man. ' And you dare to do so ? You are not 
 afraid ? ' 
 
 ' What should I be afraid of? ' 
 
 ' I can hurt you — worse than by nipping your 
 wrist.' 
 
 'And I can defend myself,' she answered. */ 
 afraid of you ? No ; it was you who trembled 
 and screamed like a woman when I touched you 
 on the river bank that night we first met. It is 
 you who have reason to be afraid of me^ 
 
 The colour went out of his face. 
 
 * No, I am not afraid of you,' continued Zita. 
 ' I remember how, when you sought to ride on, 
 I stopped your way, and drove you where I 
 wanted you to go — drove you with the flail.' 
 
 He released her arm. She felt that his hand 
 was shaking. He knew that it shook, and he 
 was afraid lest she should observe it. 
 
 He walked in silence to the stable with his 
 head lowered. Zita followed. She had gained 
 a first advantage. She had forestalled his attack, 
 and now, instead of her being cowed by him, he 
 was subdued by her. 
 
 When they were both in the stable, — for she 
 had followed him to show him how little fear 
 10
 
 146 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 she entertained, — then he addressed her in an 
 
 altered tone. 
 
 'You do not intend to leave me?' 
 
 ' No ; if you desire me to remain, I will 
 
 remain.' 
 
 ' I do desire it. I could not endure that you 
 
 should go.' 
 
 * That is right ; but why did you threaten me ? 
 I will stay. I could not put up old Jewel in 
 the windmill, and I haven't been invited to 
 Crumbland by Mark Runham.' 
 
 He stamped his foot impatiently and set his 
 teeth. 
 
 * Why do you speak of him again ? ' 
 
 * Speech is free here — in the van — in a king's 
 palace — everywhere save a gaol. I will speak of 
 any one I choose, at any time, before any one, 
 and in any place I like.' 
 
 ' Why did you go with him to-day ? ' 
 
 ' Because I am free to go where I choose, and 
 with whom I choose. This is Sunday, and a 
 holiday.' 
 
 'Yes ; but if you have any regard for me, do 
 not go with him at all.' He drew a long breath, 
 removed and put on again his broad-brimmed 
 hat. ' Why do you speak to me of payment for 
 the trifling things I have done for you? of 
 payment with warming-pans, red waistcoats, and 
 fish-glue ? ' 
 
 ' I am glad we are round to that point again,' 
 said Zita, ' for speak of that I must. No one can
 
 ON ONE FOOTING 147 
 
 be expected to do things for nothing. If you 
 house me and Jewel, and feed us both ' — 
 
 ' You have worked — you have done more than 
 that beldame Lcehanna and the girl would do 
 in twenty years.' 
 
 ' I have taken that into account. I know how 
 many hours I have worked at fivepence three- 
 farthings (needles and thread included). Never- 
 theless, the balance is against me. There is the 
 warming-pan, or the scrubbing-brushes, or the 
 fish-glue' — 
 
 He struck his fist against the stable door to 
 drown her words, 
 
 Zita put her hand on his arm. 
 
 * It is of no good your acting the fool,' she 
 said. ' What is right is right. I shouldn't feel 
 square in my insides if the account were not 
 balanced. I\Iy dear father was mighty particular 
 on that score. Every night we balanced our 
 accounts as true as any banker, with a stump of 
 a pencil as he sucked. If I don't balance I can't 
 sleep. I'll put to my account some pins I had 
 set to yours, all because of that squinch of the 
 wrist you gave me. If I were to leave your 
 house to-morrow. Master Drownlands, you'd 
 find on the shelf in my room a row of articles 
 that I reckoned up would belong in rights to 
 you as balancing our account.' 
 
 He did not answer. He thrust his horse into 
 a stall and put a halter round its head. 
 
 Then Zita went to the corn-chest and brought
 
 148 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 out a feed. The horse whinnied as he sniffed 
 the oats. Drownlands was in the stall tighten- 
 ing the knot at the end of the halter. As Zita 
 turned to depart, after having tossed the oats 
 into the manger, he came out after her, and, 
 laying hold of one side of the corn-measure, 
 said — 
 
 ' Are you going ? ' 
 
 ' Yes. I have fed Pepper.' 
 
 He shook the measure, and said, in tones of 
 angry discouragement, ' You will not take a bite 
 of my bread, nor lie on a flock of my wool, nor 
 cover your golden head with one tile of my roof, 
 but you must weigh each and prize and pay me 
 its value to the turn of a hair.' 
 
 ' Not so exactly ; of course, I leave a margin.' 
 
 ' A margin of what ? ' 
 
 • Profits ! ' 
 
 ' To whom ? ' 
 
 ' To myself, of course. We should never get 
 along in the world without profits. When we 
 come to deal among friends, as you and I, then 
 the profits are reasonable. But when one has to 
 do with the general public, — that father always 
 called the General Jackass, — then you lay it on 
 thick and heavy. Without profits of some sort 
 one can't sleep the sleep of innocence, as father 
 said. But it is one thing dealing with General 
 Jackass and another with a friend ; and I want 
 you to understand the footing on which we deal 
 is the latter.'
 
 ON ONE FOOTING 149 
 
 ' So — the footing of buy and sell ? ' 
 'Yes. I take my small profits. When a 
 dressmaker makes your frocks, she charges you 
 for a packet of needles and uses one — the rest 
 are profits. She charges you for a knot of tape, 
 and uses two yards and a half — the rest is 
 profit. And she cuts out eight yards of lining, 
 and puts down twelve — four are profits ; and she 
 puts you some frilling round your neck and 
 cuffs, charging three yards, and she uses one — 
 there's profits again. I do the same with you. 
 I couldn't sleep if I didn't. It's feather bed and 
 pillow and bolster to me — profits.' 
 ' Take what you will. All you like.' 
 ' No,' said Zita. ' Fair trade between us. We 
 deal as friends. I respect and regard you too 
 greatly to treat you as if you were General 
 Jackass.' 
 
 Then she left the empty corn-measure in his 
 hand and walked away, with a swing of the 
 shoulders, a toss of the head, an elasticity in her 
 tread, that appertained to one who was victor — 
 not to one defeated. And Drownlands stood 
 looking after her, holding the empty corn- 
 measure, and he wondered at himself that he 
 had been beaten at every point by this girl — 
 he who had galloped home boiling with anger, 
 resolved to break her into meek subjection to 
 his will.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 ON ANOTHER FOOTING 
 
 A SOUGH of wind passed over the Fens 
 like a long-drawn sigh. Every one who 
 heard it listened in silence. It was repeated, 
 and then the general comment was, ' The skating 
 is over.' 
 
 Nor was the comment falsified by the event. 
 The wind had veered round suddenly, without 
 warning, to the south-west. It blew all night 
 and sent a warm rain against the windows that 
 faced that quarter. It covered wood and walls 
 with dew. The ice broke up in the river, it dis- 
 solved in the dykes. The sails of the mills were 
 again in revolution, they whirled merrily, merrily. 
 
 Zita had come upon the embankment to see 
 the broken ice drift down the sluggish river, 
 swept along by the wind rather than the current. 
 There she encountered Mark Runham. 
 
 ' What, you here. Cheap Jackie ? No, hang it ! 
 I won't call you that. It seems impudent ; but 
 I do not mean that, you may be sure.' 
 
 160
 
 ON ANOTHER FOOTING 151 
 
 * I know that, and am not offended.' 
 
 ' Your name— it continually slips my memory.' 
 ' Zita.' 
 
 * A queer sort of a name that' 
 
 * It is not often you meet a Cheap Jack girl. 
 They do not come thick as windmills in the 
 flats. So it suits me to bear a queer name.' 
 
 * A queer name becomes a queer girl.' 
 
 * Thanks. I have something for you — half a 
 pound of bird's eye.' 
 
 ' What for ? ' 
 
 ' In payment for my run on the ice.* 
 
 ' I do not want payment' 
 
 ' It gave you trouble, made you hot, but it was 
 a very great pleasure to me.' 
 
 ' I won't take it.' The young fellow laughed 
 with his merry eyes as well as with his fresh 
 lips. ' Can you understand this, that it gave me 
 five times as much pleasure as it did you to spin 
 you aLng and see the red roses bloom in your 
 cheeks and those dark eyes of yours twinkle as 
 though there were Jack o' Lanterns dancing in 
 them? Zita, it is not every day that a lad gets 
 the chance of running a pretty girl along the 
 ice. It is I am in debt to you. We'll square 
 the account, anyhow.' He caught her head 
 between his hands and gave her a kiss on her 
 red lips. ' There is the account scored out, and 
 a new account begun.' 
 
 ' That is not fair ! ' exclaimed Zita, shrinking 
 back.
 
 152 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' What ! not settled ? Again, then.' He 
 kissed her once more. 'And so — till all is right, 
 and the balance squared.' 
 
 Then he laughed, and, releasing her head, 
 said — 
 
 'You know we raced, — that old Drownlands 
 and I, — and you were to be the prize. I won 
 you.' Then, seeing that she looked disturbed, 
 he went off to, * Now, Cheap Jackie, tell me, was 
 not that a droll sort of a life, going over the 
 world in that comical van ? ' 
 
 * It was a very happy life, and the van was not 
 comical at all. It is splendid.' 
 
 * I have not seen it.' 
 
 'Then why did you call it unsuitable names?' 
 ' A jolly life, was it ? ' 
 
 ' Indeed it was. I was very happy in it — 
 specially when we had piled up the profits.' 
 
 * You made a pile when you sold my father a 
 flail for a guinea.' 
 
 'We did ; but if it is any satisfaction to you 
 to know it, it was the thoughts of that made 
 him pass away so happy.' 
 
 ' A guinea was nought to my father ; he was 
 rich. Now I am rich.' Then, with a trip of his 
 foot on the bank as though he were dancing, 
 *Zita, what a joke it would be for us to go round 
 in the summer with the old van and the stock- 
 in-trade. What have you done with the goods?' 
 
 * They are safe.' 
 
 ' And we will visit Swaffham, and Littleport,
 
 ON ANOTHER FOOTING 153 
 
 and Ely together, and sell away like blazes. 
 I'll attend to the horse, and you shall do all the 
 talking the folk want. What fun it will be ! ' 
 
 ' No,' said Zita, colouring ; * that will not be 
 right.' 
 
 ' Why not ? ' 
 
 'No. It was all very well with my father. 
 But I will not go again.' 
 
 * You must — you shall — with me ! ' 
 
 ' I will not — indeed I will not' She turned 
 away. 
 
 ' Well, anyhow you will show me the van ? ' 
 
 *Yes. When you like.' 
 
 ' I can't well go into Prickwillow as matters 
 are between us and Drownlands — not that I 
 bear him ill-will, but he is sour as a crab towards 
 me. We will manage it somehow at some time. 
 But I can't help thinking what fun it would be 
 for us two to travel the world all over together, 
 selling pots and pans. I wish I had been born 
 a Cheap Jack. Where are you off to now, Zita ? ' 
 
 ' I am going to see Kainie at Red Wings.' 
 
 ' I will go with you. I also want to see her. 
 I am very fond of Kainie, I am.' Said with a 
 mischievous laugh. 
 
 ' I daresay you are, but I am going alone.' 
 
 ' Nonsense ! I shall go with you. I must see 
 Kainie. I have an errand to her.' 
 
 ' Who sent you ? ' 
 
 Mark hesitated, then said, 'Well, no one. 
 But it is business. I must go.'
 
 154 
 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'Then go. I will remain here.' 
 
 Zita observed a lighter moored to the bank 
 in the river. She stepped towards it. ' I will 
 go into the barge. Will you come with me and 
 punt me about?' 
 
 * I cannot. I must go to Kainie.' 
 
 ' You wanted to come with me in the van, 
 asked me to go with you. Now I ask you to 
 come with me in the boat, and you will not.' 
 
 ' I pay you off,' said Mark good-naturedly. 
 'You would not travel with me in the van, so 
 I will not travel with you in the barge. But, 
 seriously, I cannot. I must go on to Kainie. 
 Come along with me,' urged Mark. ' Kainie 
 will be pleased to see you.' 
 
 ' Oh ! you can answer for her ? ' 
 
 ' In some things ; certainly in this.' 
 
 ' I will not go.' 
 
 Zita pouted and turned her back on Mark. 
 The young man did not press her to change her 
 intention. The decision in her face, the look in 
 her eyes, convinced him that his labour would 
 be in vain were he to attempt it. He started in 
 the direction of Red Wings without her, and 
 whistled as he walked. Zita's brow was moody. 
 She was a girl of impulse and of no self-restraint, 
 changeful in temper and vehement in passion. 
 
 There was no reason why she should resent 
 Mark's going to Red Wings, and yet she did 
 resent it. If he had to go, and she refused to 
 accompany him, he must go without her. That
 
 ON ANOTHER FOOTING 155 
 
 was obvious, and yet she was very wroth. In 
 her mind she contrasted Drownlands with Mark. 
 She had but to express a wish to the former, 
 and it was complied with. Had she said to him 
 that she desired him to row her on the canal, he 
 would have placed himself at her service with 
 eaeer delight. But this scatterbrained Mark 
 had no notion of submission to her wishes. 
 He had desired her society on the bank ; 
 when she refused it, he did without it, and did 
 without it with a light heart — he went away 
 whistling. 
 
 Zita stepped into the barge and seated herself 
 on the side. She put her chin in her hand and 
 looked sullenly into the water full of broken, 
 half-dissolved pieces of ice. 
 
 She was hot, her angry blood was racing 
 through her veins. She was, in her way, as im- 
 petuous as Drownlands. She had been suffered 
 in her girlhood by her father to follow her own 
 bent, to do just what she liked. But, indeed, 
 there had been no occasion for him to cross her, 
 their interests were identical. Good-natured 
 though Zita was, she was masterful. She had 
 sense, but sense is sometimes obscured by 
 passion. 
 
 She sat biting her nails. A fire was in her 
 cheeks, and now and then the tears forced them- 
 selves into her burning eyes. 
 
 What could Mark have to call him to Red 
 Wings ?
 
 156 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 What possible business could he have with 
 Kainie? 
 
 Red Wings was not on his land ; the mill did 
 not drain his dykes. 
 
 Zita marvelled how long Mark would remain 
 with Kerenhappuch. Would he sit down with 
 her in her cabin ? Would their conversation 
 turn on herself — Zita? Would Mark say that 
 she was sulky ? What would Kerenhappuch 
 reply ? Would she not say, ' What else can you 
 expect from a girl who is a vagabond ? We 
 who lead settled lives in mills and farmhouses 
 know how to behave ourselves. What can you 
 get out of a chimney but soot? What does a 
 marsh breed but gadflies?' 
 
 It is really wonderful what a cloud of torments 
 an ingenious mind can rouse if it resolves to give 
 run to fancy. Perhaps a woman is more prone 
 to this than a man. She conceives conversations 
 relative to herself; she puts into the mouths 
 of the speakers the most offensive expressions 
 relative to herself. She wreathes their faces with 
 contemptuous smiles, gives to their voices insult- 
 ing intonations, and finally assumes that all the 
 brood of her festering brain is real fact, and not 
 
 mn'age. 
 
 It was so now with Zita. 
 
 She was startled from her reverie of self- 
 torment by a shock in the boat. She looked up, 
 startled, and saw before her a man with long 
 arms and large hands, dark-haired and dark-
 
 ON ANOTHER FOOTING 157 
 
 eyed. He was handsome, but his face bore an 
 expression of sour discontent. The thin h'ps 
 were indicative of a sharp and querulous temper, 
 and the checks seemed as though they could not 
 dimple into laughter. 
 
 'What are you doing in the lighter?' asked 
 the man, whom Zita recognised as Ephraim 
 Beamish, the orator. 
 
 ' I suppose I have as much right to be in the 
 boat as you,' answered the girl peevishly. 
 
 ' No doubt. We neither have any right any- 
 where. We are both poor. I know who you 
 are — the Cheap Jack girl. I hear you have 
 been taken into Prickwillow. Wish you happi- 
 ness. It is not the place I should care to be in. 
 Drownlands is not the man to clothe the poor, 
 house the wanderer, feed the hungry, without 
 expecting his reward — and that here. He does 
 nothing of good to any one but to serve his own 
 ends. He has just had me turned out.' 
 
 ' Turned out of what ? ' 
 
 'Turned out of my mill, out of my employ, 
 out of my livelihood. I have now to run about 
 the fens, in ice and snow. I have no home. I 
 am a gentleman, however, for I have no work. 
 The rats may shelter in the barn, the mice may 
 nest in the stack, but I must be without a roof 
 to cover my head, without work to engage my 
 hands, and without bread to put into my mouth. 
 And all for why ? Because I have been bold 
 to speak the truth. Truth is like light. Men
 
 IS8 
 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 hate it and turn their eyes from it. Them as 
 speaks the truth gets persecuted, and I am one 
 of these.' 
 
 ' You can obtain work elsewhere,' said Zita, 
 displeased at having her imaginary troubles 
 broken in on by some one with a real grievance. 
 
 'No, I cannot,' answered Beamish; 'the owners 
 of property hang together like bees when they 
 swarm. If you disturb one, the whole hive sets 
 on you and stings yoxi to death.' 
 
 'Well,' said Zita irritably, ' you need not tell 
 me all this. I cannot assist you.' 
 
 ' I do not suppose you can. But — has 
 Property got into your blood, that you speak so 
 sharp to me ? Maybe, like a bat, you're hanging 
 on to it by a claw. Like a gnat, you have your 
 lips to it, and are sucking your fill. I do not 
 ask your help. I fend for myself. But I like 
 to talk. Nothing will be done to correct evils 
 if the evils be not talked about. You must go 
 round Jericho and blow the trumpets seven 
 times, and seven times again, before the walls 
 will fall, and we can march up and take the city. 
 Let Property look out. The working people 
 will not stand to be robbed and maltreated any 
 longer.' 
 
 Beamish unloosed the rope that attached the 
 boat to the shore, and, taking a pole, thrust out 
 and began slowly to force the vessel up stream, 
 talking as he punted. 
 
 ' You may tell Drownlands my curse rests on
 
 ON ANOTHER FOOTING 159 
 
 him ; and that will rot his timber and rust his 
 corn.' 
 
 ' I will bear him no such message,' said Zita. 
 * But where are you taking me ? ' 
 
 ' Up the river. I shall leave you presently ; 
 but I will return and punt you back again.' 
 
 ' Where are you going ? ' 
 
 ' To Red Wings.' 
 
 ' What do you want there ? ' 
 
 ' I have an errand,' answered Beamish. 
 
 * There is one gone there before you, with an 
 errand from himself — and that is Mark Runham.' 
 
 'He there!' exclaimed Pip Beamish, leaning 
 on the punting-pole and looking down into the 
 water. ' Property meets one everywhere. Pro- 
 perty blights everything. I am a poor chap. I 
 am cast out of employ ; but I did think I had 
 my ewe lamb. And now Property comes 
 between me and her. Property says to me, 
 " Go — what I cannot consume I will destroy, 
 lest you have it." Do you think, you Cheap 
 Jack girl, that Mark Runham will marry 
 Kainie ? He is a man of property, and property 
 hungers for property. She is like me. She 
 has nothing. She is a miller grinding nought 
 save water.' 
 
 He thrust the boat towards the shore. 
 
 * I'll not go to see her,' said Beamish. ' I could 
 not bear it. I'm off to the Duck at Isleham. I 
 shall meet there some fellows who love the 
 working people, and who will combine to teach
 
 i6o CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 these men who hold the Fens in their fists to 
 deal with their labourers justly and mercifully.' 
 
 He leaped ashore, mounted the bank, and, 
 standing there, extended his long arms and 
 expanded his great hands, and cried, ' I see the 
 day coming ! I see the light about to break ! 
 The trumpet will sound, and the dead and 
 crushed working men will rise and stand on their 
 feet. That will be a day of vengeance ! — a day 
 of fire and consuming heat ! Then will the fen- 
 farmers call to the earth to swallow them, and 
 to the isles to cover them, against the anger of 
 the dead men risen up in judgment against 
 them.' 
 
 ' There comes Mark,' said Zita. * I suppose I 
 must get him to punt me home. But I shall 
 not speak to him all the way.'
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 BURNT HATS 
 
 AT the time of our tale, the Duck at Isle- 
 ham — a solitary inn on slightly rising 
 ground — was notorious as a place of resort for 
 poachers, a centre to which smuggled goods 
 were brought from the Wash, and whence they 
 were distributed, and a general rendezvous for the 
 dissatisfied. Not a bad trade was done at the 
 Duck. Thither came the poachers as to a mart 
 for the disposal of their game, and the dealers 
 to take the spoil of the poachers ; thither came 
 not only those who brought, up the dark path 
 from the sea, spirits which had not paid duty, 
 but also the farmers who desired to lay in 
 supplies. As the fen-water was not potable 
 unmixed, it was a matter of necessity for the 
 fen-dwellers to temper it with something that 
 would neutralise its unpleasant savour as well 
 as kill its unwholesome elements. Moreover, 
 such being the case, those who desired to lay in 
 a stock of this counteracting agent went for it, 
 by a law of nature, to the cheapest shop, and 
 II
 
 i62 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the cheapest shop was that where the traffic was 
 in spirits that were contraband. Lastly, at the 
 Duck assembled the great company of grumblers, 
 large everywhere, but especially large in the Fens. 
 
 As the Duck afforded space for a good many 
 grumblers in bar and kitchen and parlour, and 
 as grumblers like to grumble into the ears of 
 men of their own kidney, the Duck drew to it 
 the discontented of all classes — farmers dissatis- 
 fied with their rent, yeomen dissatisfied at their 
 rates, artisans out of humour because trade was 
 slack, gangers, clayers, bankers, gaulters, slodgers, 
 millers, molers,gozzards — everyone whom the de- 
 pressing atmosphere of the Fens made dispirited, 
 and who thought the cause of his depression was 
 due to the oppression of some one else. 
 
 The kitchen of the Duck was full. A great 
 fire of turf was heaped up, and glowed red, diffus- 
 ing heat, but giving out no flame, and, notwith- 
 standing the tobacco smoke, filling the place with 
 its penetrating, peculiar odour. The men pre- 
 sent — on this occasion they were all men — were 
 drinking; they were mostly men of the class of 
 agricultural labourer. Among them were two or 
 three with dazed eyes, men silent, pallid, who 
 looked at the speakers and acquiesced in every 
 sentiment or opinion expressed, however contra- 
 dictory they might be. These were opium-eaters. 
 
 In the Fens, almost every cottage grows its 
 crop of white poppy in the small garden. Of 
 the poppy heads a tea is brewed. The mothers
 
 BURNT HATS 163 
 
 are accustomed to work in the fields, hoeing 
 between the ranks of wheat. The rich soil that 
 produces the corn produces also weeds that 
 have to be kept under. That the babe may not 
 interfere with the mother earning a small wage, 
 it is given poppy tea, and that sends it to sleep 
 for the day. But the drops of opium thus ad- 
 ministered in infancy affect the tender brains, 
 bewilder them, and subject the child to nervous 
 pains. As it grows up to man or womanhood, it 
 has recourse to the drug to which it was brought 
 up in infancy. A large business in laudanum 
 is done in the Fens, and much of the distraught 
 mind and tortured nerve is due to this cause. 
 The poppy tea dispels trouble as surely as whisky, 
 and opium dulls pain at a cheaper and surer rate 
 than the surgeon who boggles over its removal. 
 'I tell you,' said Pip Beamish, 'it is due to 
 the farmers and yeomen. Look at them, up to 
 the eyes in gold, and gold that is squeezed out 
 of the fen by your hands. Till they have been 
 taught a lesson, and that a sharp and stinging 
 one, they will go on in the same way. No Acts 
 of Parliament will help us. You may send up 
 whom you will, Whig or Tory, to Westminster, 
 it is the same. No party will do aught for you. 
 No judges and no jury are of any avail, for law 
 can't come in and right us. We must do that 
 with our own hands. When a boy won't do the 
 right thing, you put a stick across his back and 
 make him ; you don't ask for an Act of Parlia-
 
 i64 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ment, you don't elect a member to teach him his 
 duty. We must teach our farmers as you teach 
 idle and thievish boys. Teach them in such a 
 way as they won't forget. Teach them to fear 
 the rod. Set the stackyards blazing throughout 
 the Fens, and by the light of those fires they'll 
 begin to see what is the way of justice and equity.' 
 
 ' I don't see how that's going to lower the 
 price of wheat/ said a ganger, named Silas 
 Gotobcd. * You sez that the cost of bread is too 
 high. If you burn the wheatstacks, there will 
 be less corn, and up the price will go.* 
 
 ' You're right there. That's reason, Silas,' 
 said a third, Thomas Goat, a gaulter. * The 
 mischief don't lie with the farmers. They 
 grow the corn — some one must do that. The 
 wickedness is in the eaters.' 
 
 ' Why, we're all eaters.' 
 
 ' Ay ! ' said Goat sententiously. ' But we've 
 a right to eat ; there be a lot eats as hasn't a 
 right to do so.' 
 
 ' You mean rats and mice.' 
 
 ' No, I don't — leastways not four-legged ones.' 
 
 ' What do you mean, then ? ' 
 
 * It is them collegers,' said Goat. ' I've been 
 to Cambridge. I've seen them there, a thousand 
 of them. They come up in swarms from every 
 part of England, and there they do nought but 
 eat and drink and row on the river, and play 
 cricket on Parker's Piece. Rowin' and playin' 
 cricket ain't qualifications for eatin'. What
 
 BURNT HATS 165 
 
 would you say if a thousand rats, big as bullocks, 
 was to come on to the Fens and attack our 
 stacks? Therc'd be a pretty outcry. Every 
 man would take down his gun. The terriers 
 would be called for. Traps, poison would be 
 laid, and none quiet till every rat was extermin- 
 ated. Very well, up from every part of England 
 come these darned collegers to the Univarsity, 
 and spend their time there, eatin' — eatin' — eatin*. 
 Mates, I axes, what are they eatin' ? It is the 
 wheat we grow on our fens. T calculate that one- 
 half of what we grow goes do wn i nto their stom icks. 
 If there were no collegers, then there 'd be twice 
 as much corn, and corn would be at forty-eight 
 instead of ninety-six. It is that Univarsity and 
 them collegers does it. I have shown you that 
 as clear as these five fingers of mine. If that 
 ain't reason, show me where it is to be found.' 
 
 ' I don't hold with you,' said Gotobed, impatient 
 at having his say snapped out of his mouth 
 * I suppose collegers must eat somewhere.' 
 
 ' Let them stay and eat at home.' 
 
 'Well, but what about the price of wheat at their 
 homes ? Won't they diminish the supply there ? ' 
 
 ' That don't concern us,' shouted a clayer 
 named Gathercole. * It is no odds to us what 
 the supply and what the price is elsewhere. 
 All that concerns us is the supply and the price 
 here in the Fens. Goat, you've hit the wrong 
 nail on the head ! I know better than you ; it'.s 
 the bankers does it.'
 
 1 66 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' What have you to say against the bankers ? ' 
 asked Goat. * I'd like to know where the corn 
 would be if the bankers did not keep the rivers 
 from overflow.' 
 
 ' I mean those who have banks in towns,' 
 explained Gathercole. ' I've been to Mortlock's 
 in Ely. I've seen what the clerks do there. 
 They have drawers full of gold. They don't 
 trouble to put their fingers to it, they shovel it 
 in and shovel it out like muck. Whence does 
 Mortlock get all that gold, I ask. It comes out 
 of the Fens. The farmers are such dizzy-fools 
 that they put their money there for Mortlock 
 to take care of, and Mortlock sends the money 
 out of the country to America. What's the 
 advantage of the farmers growing corn, and of 
 the labourers helping to grow it, what's the 
 pleasure to reap and sow and plough and mow 
 and be a farmer's boy, if all the money earned 
 and addled goes into Mortlock's bank, and Mort- 
 lock sends it to America ? I wish I was in Parlia- 
 ment one week, and I'd hang every banker in 
 the country, and burn every ship as takes the 
 money out of England and carries it to America.' 
 
 ' I say it is the millers,' said Isaac Harley, a 
 clayer. 'You send a sack of corn to the soak- 
 mill, and you get back half a sack of flour. 
 How is that? There should be as much flour 
 come back as corn went, but there does not. I 
 have proved it scores of times. I've sent a sack 
 so full of wheat that I could scarce bind the
 
 BURNT HATS ' 167 
 
 mouth, and when it came back as flour it was but 
 half full. That is what makes corn so dear — the 
 millers steal it. If I were king for half a day, I'd 
 drown every miller in England in his own dam.' 
 
 'You are all of you out,' said a small land- 
 owner, named Abraham Cutman. 'But it is 
 like your ignorance. You feel that the shoe 
 pinches, but you don't know where it pinches, 
 and why it pinches. I will tell you. I have 
 education, and you have not. It is the rates. 
 We are paying from six to seven shillings an 
 acre for the drainage of the Fens. The rate 
 has been up to ten shillings and sixpence. 
 Why should we pay that ? We can't afford to 
 pay seven shillings an acre in rates, and pay 
 our workmen well also. All the profits are 
 consumed in rates. The Commissioners stick 
 it on, and they can't help it ; they must have the 
 banks kept up and the mills in working order.' 
 
 ' Of course they must,' threw in the gaulter. 
 
 'They must have their mills,' said Beamish. 
 ' But why am I thrown out of employ, that did 
 no wrong, and never neglected my duty ? ' 
 
 ' Silence all round. Listen to me,' said Cut- 
 man. ' The wrong lies here. Take off the rate, 
 and the price of corn will go down, and the price 
 of labour will go up.' 
 
 ' That's it. Cutman has it ! ' exclaimed several. 
 
 But Goat dissented. * There must be a rate,' said 
 he, 'or how should I be paid for my gaulting? 
 and without gaulting there can be no banking.'
 
 i6S CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 * Of course there must be a rate. I'd have 
 it permanently fixed by Act of Parliament at 
 fifteen shillings an acre.' 
 
 ' You would ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, I would ; so that gaulters and bankers 
 should have double wages. They work hard 
 and deserve it.' 
 
 ' Right you are, master,' said Goat ; but others 
 murmured. 
 
 ' Why should gaulters and bankers only have 
 double pay ? Why not molers and gozzards 
 also ? ' others again asked. ' How about the 
 price of wheat then ? ' 
 
 * I said I'd have the rate fixed at fifteen 
 shillings an acre,' pursued Cutman, looking 
 about him with an air of superiority. ' Fifteen 
 shillings an acre — not a penny less. But I'd 
 have the rate shifted from fen-land as wants 
 draining to all other land in Great Britain as 
 doesn't want draining. The rate should be laid 
 on all other shoulders except ours. Stick a 
 rate on to Mortlock's and all bankers. Stick 
 it on to the colleges and the universities. Stick 
 it on to all high and dry lands, where there is no 
 call for banking and draining. Stick it on 
 where you like, only take it off from the Fens. 
 Why should we pay rates for draining our land 
 when the farmers on high ground pay nothing ? 
 They have their land six or seven shillings an 
 acre cheaper than do we. If I were in the 
 Ministry, the first thing I would do would be
 
 BURNT HATS 169 
 
 to impose a compulsory rate of fifteen shillings 
 an acre on all land that didn't want draining, 
 to pay for the draining of land that did want it. 
 Then we'd have high times of it here in the 
 P^ns — farmers, bankers, slodgers, all round. If 
 that is not reason, and you don't see it, so 
 much the worse for your intelligences.' 
 
 ' I don't call that reason at all,' said Goat. 
 * Don't tell me the Commissioners would pay 
 us double wages when the rate was at fifteen. 
 It is six now, and I get eleven shillings a week. 
 Twelve years ago it was half a guinea rate, and 
 then my wage was ten shillings. If the rate 
 were up to fifteen I should be wuss off. Every 
 four shillings the rate goes up my wage goes 
 down a shilling. With the rate at fifteen, I'd 
 be worse off — with a wage of five and sixpence, 
 or six shillings at most. I hold to it that 
 the mischief lies in the Univarsity, with them 
 collegers a-eatin' — eatin' — eatin'. I'll fight at 
 flap-chap any man as disputes my argiment.' 
 
 • I dispute it,' said Silas Gotobed, starting up. 
 
 'Very well. We'll find out which has the 
 best of the argiment and reason on his side 
 with flap-chaps.' 
 
 ' My argiment is this,' said Gotobed. * Rivers 
 ought to run uphill. If they don't choose to, 
 they should be made to, by Act of Parliament. 
 Then we'd be dry, and them on high grounds 
 would be wet. Then they'd have the rates 
 and the bother, and we'd be free. That is my
 
 I70 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 contention, and it's all gammon about them 
 collegers.' 
 
 He placed himself opposite Goat. 
 
 * I don't care what you may call yourself,' 
 said he to his opponent, ' Goat or sheep ; but 
 you're an ass, and every one knows it.' 
 
 Then Ephraim Beamish ran between the men, 
 who stood facingeach other with threateninglooks. 
 
 * Be reasonable,' he said, thrusting them apart 
 with his long arms. * Why do you fly at each 
 other, instead of at the common foe?' 
 
 ' I don't know what be the common foe,' re- 
 torted Goat, * if it bain't the collegers. If I was 
 in Parliament' — 
 
 ' It's the bankers,' said Jonas Gathcrcole. ' If 
 I was in Parliament ' — 
 
 * It's the millers !' shouted Harley. ' If I was 
 in Parliament' — 
 
 ' It's the rates!' exclaimed Cutman ; ' and a law 
 should be made, and shall be when I'm in Parlia- 
 ment ' — 
 
 ' You're every one out ! ' roared Silas Gotobed ; 
 * it's Providence, as don't do what it should be 
 made to do, and force the rivers to run uphill.' 
 
 ' Sit down ! you're drunk,' cried Cutman. 
 
 * I'm not going to be ordered about by you,' 
 retorted the ganger; 'we're all equal here. I 
 haven't been bankrupt and sold my stacks twice 
 over.' 
 
 Cutman fell into the rear. He had been 
 guilty of fraudulent conduct at his bankruptcy.
 
 BURNT HATS 171 
 
 ' I say it is the Univarsity, and I maintains my 
 argiment,' said Goat. ' I'll prove it on your chaps.' 
 
 ' I sez it is the rivers ought to run uphill. I'll 
 box your donkey ears if you denies it. That's 
 my argiment.' 
 
 Gotobed made a lunge at this opponent and 
 missed him. Flap-chaps is a pastime affected in 
 the Fens, more so in former times than at present, 
 but not out of favour now. It consists in this. 
 Two men face each other and endeavour to 
 slap each other's cheeks, right or left, as best 
 they can, and as best they can to ward off with 
 the same open palm the blows aimed at their 
 own chaps. Those who play this game acquire 
 great dexterity at it, but when much ale or 
 spirits has been drunk, then the eye has lost its 
 quickness of perception, the hand its steadiness, 
 the brain its coolness, and the contest rapidly 
 derenerates into a drunken brawl and a roll on 
 the floor, with fisticuffs and head-bumping. 
 
 It promised to so degenerate on the present 
 occasion. Gotobed was the most intoxicated 
 and least able to parry the blows levelled at 
 him, and every time Goat's hand made his cheek 
 sting, it roused him to a further access of fury 
 that blinded him to what he was about; he 
 withdrew his left hand from behind his back. 
 This proA'oked an outcry from the lookers-on of, 
 ' Not fair play ! Hand back ! hand back ! ' 
 
 Beamish again endeavoured to interpose, but 
 came off with both his ears tingling ; he had
 
 172 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 received a blow on one cheek from Goat, and 
 on the other from Gotobed. The strife recom- 
 menced after this futile attempt to separate the 
 men. Slap, slap, on the chaps of Gotobed, 
 followed by a blow from his fist in the face of 
 his adversary. This occasioned a yell from all 
 in the room of ' Cheat — not fair ! a fine ! a fine, 
 Silas ! Fair game or none at all.' 
 
 ' I'll pay a fine indeed ! ' roared Gotobed. 
 Then, springing at his opponent, who staggered 
 stupefied under the blow he had received, he 
 snatched his hat from his head, and, thrusting 
 it into the fire, shouted, ' Caps ! Caps ! ' Then 
 he dashed at Cutman, who wore a white beaver. 
 
 * Your hat ! ' he demanded. 
 
 ' You shall not have it. It is as good as 
 new.' 
 
 ' I will have it,' answered Gotobed. ' Ain't 
 we all equal ? Isn't it the rule ? What are you 
 better than me? One cap— all caps. That's 
 the rule.' 
 
 He tore the white beaver out of the yeoman's 
 hands, and rammed it with his ironshod boot 
 into the glowing turf fire. 
 
 ' Mates ! Mates ! Show up your caps ! ' 
 
 Then ensued wild confusion. Some snatched 
 the caps and hats from those who were near 
 them, some endeavoured to protect their own 
 headgear from confiscation, and fought for 
 them. Some thrust their own caps into the 
 flames, and in ten minutes there was not one in
 
 BURNT HATS 173 
 
 the company but was without a cover for his 
 crown.^ 
 
 Beamish had made angry resistance. Three 
 men assailed him, tripped him up, and sent him 
 sprawling on the alcliouse floor. A fourth 
 wrenched his hat away and thrust it into the 
 flames, shouting, 'You're a fine chap to say all 
 men are equal, and want to keep your own hat 
 when the rest are bareheaded.' 
 
 The landlord stepped outside, to see that the 
 fiery tinder did not fall on and ignite the thatch. 
 He returned and said, ' It is snowing.' 
 
 'Snowing, is it?' said Gotobed, staggering to 
 the door. ' Then we shall all wear white night- 
 caps to cool our heads.' Standing in the doorway, 
 sustaining himself by a hand on each of the jambs, 
 looking in, he shouted to his comrades, ' I am 
 right. You are all wrong. At next election I 
 ain't going to vote for no candidate as won't 
 promise to make the rivers run uphill. Nothing 
 will be as it ought to be — price of corn won't be 
 low, and wages won't be high, and farmers cease 
 to oppress, and bankers to send the money out 
 of this country, and millers to fill their fists with 
 flour, and Commissioners to pocket money that 
 ought to have gone to the gangers, and collegians 
 to cease to cat — till Providence has been forced to 
 do what it ort — and make the rivers run uphill.' 
 
 ' Burnt caps is a curious and inexplicable custom in the Fens. 
 It is one that terminates many a brawl. If one man burns the 
 hat of another, it is de riguettr that all the rest of the company 
 should surrender their headgear to complete the holocaust.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A CRAWL ABROAD 
 
 N' O country in the world is so subject to 
 variations in the cHmate as England, 
 and in no part of England are the variations so 
 felt as in the Fens. No hills, no belts of trees 
 there break the force of the wind. The gales 
 rush over the plains unresisted from every 
 quarter. Elsewhere there are hedgerows, on 
 the sunny side of which appear the celandine 
 and primrose in early spring, then the red- 
 robin, the bluebell, our lady's smock, and the 
 gorgeous spires of foxglove later still. There 
 are no hedgeflowers in the Fens, for there are 
 no hedges. Elsewhere the landscape is varie- 
 gated with coppice that is brown in autumn 
 and pine woods that are dark green all the year. 
 It is not so in the Fens. There are no trees. 
 When the snow falls, it envelops the entire 
 surface in white. 
 
 The frost had passed away, and the waters 
 had been released. With the thaw the mills 
 
 174
 
 A CRAWL ABROAD 175 
 
 had been set again in motion, and the sails flew 
 fast to make up for lost time. Now again a 
 single night had altered the complexion of the 
 fen-land. All was white that had been black. 
 The snow had filled the ruts, and, consolidating, 
 had formed a comparatively smooth surface. 
 Rivers and dykes were not frozen, only a little 
 cat ice had formed among the reeds. 
 
 Zita was in the farmyard. She had gone there 
 to put her van to rights. The van demanded her 
 attention. The fowls had taken to roosting on 
 the top, and had made it untidy. There was no 
 keeping them away. They could be, and they 
 were, excluded from the interior of the van, 
 but not from the shed in which the van stood. 
 Formerly, they had been satisfied with rafters 
 and manger ; now, whether out of perversity or 
 love of variety, or because the van satisfied their 
 ideal, they deserted their ancient roosting-places 
 and crowded the van roof 
 
 This was a source of incessant annoyance to 
 Zita, who could not endure the degradation to 
 which the van was subjected. Every few days 
 she visited the shed, pail and scrubbing-brush 
 in hand, and thoroughly cleansed the convey- 
 ance. 
 
 She had been thus engaged, and had flung the 
 dirty water at a clucking hen that sauntered 
 up with purpose to resume its perch on the 
 van top, when a pair of hands was laid on her 
 shoulders, and, looking round, she saw Mark,
 
 176 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' What has brought you here ? ' she asked in 
 surprise. 
 
 ' What but your own sweet self. I have not 
 seen you for some days. As you were not 
 outside the farmyard, I have come into it to 
 seek you.' 
 
 ' You ought not to have done so. The master 
 will be angry.' 
 
 ' He is from home. I saw him ride to Ely.' 
 
 ' But if he hears that you have been here ? ' 
 
 ' You need not tell him.' 
 
 ' I will not tell him, but others may — mischief- 
 makers. Then I shall suffer.' 
 
 ' You can take care of yourself, I warrant.' 
 
 ' You are right, I can protect myself. I am 
 not a servant, but a lodger. I pay for every- 
 thing I receive and consume here — even for 
 this soap and the use of this pail.' 
 
 ' And this is the van ? ' 
 
 * Yes, that is my old home. I was born in it. 
 I have lived in it all my life. Whatever I know 
 I have learned in it. It is a fine thing to crawl 
 over the world like a snail, with one's house on 
 one's back.' 
 
 ' The snail-crawling is over with you now. 
 You refused to let me go with you.' 
 
 ' Yes ; it is over for the winter. What I may 
 do when the spring comes, I cannot say. My 
 blood runs, my feet tingle. When the white 
 butterflies are about, I daresay I shall spread my 
 wings also. I mean my red and gold curtains.'
 
 A CRAWL ABROAD 177 
 
 * And I may go with you ? ' mischievously. 
 ' No ; if I go, I go alone.' 
 
 * Let me walk round and admire your house 
 on wheels.' 
 
 'You do not see it to advantage,' said Zita 
 regretfully. ' It is not dressed out. The pans 
 and brushes and mats are stowed away, that 
 make it glitter just like a lifeguardsman. The 
 inside is taken out. The curtains are unhung. 
 And then those dratted fowls are a nuisance. 
 They have taken a fancy to the van. If Master 
 Drownlands and I were on better terms, I'd ax 
 him to have the fowls killed, or the shed boarded 
 up, that they might not come in.' 
 
 ' What ? you are not on good terms with 
 old Ki ? ' 
 
 ' Only middling. I have had to teach him to 
 keep his distance.' 
 
 * Oh 1 he wanted to come to too close quarters 
 — small blame to him,' said Mark, laughing. 
 
 * He and I could not agree about terms — that 
 was it,' said Zita, with an impatient and annoyed 
 toss of her head. 
 
 * Let the van come to my place,' said Runham. 
 * Then I will stow it away out of reach of all 
 fowls.' 
 
 Zita shook her head. ' I like to look at my 
 van every day.' 
 
 ' Well, that is no reason against sending it to 
 Crumbland. If you come to look at it twice a 
 day, so much the better pleased I shall be.' 
 12
 
 178 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'I cannot send the van anywhere where I 
 am not Hving-, and this is my lodging for the 
 winter,' said Zita. 
 
 ' And how goes the horse ? ' asked Mark. 
 
 'He don't go at all,' replied the girl. 'He 
 eats and thinks and gets bloated. He hasn't 
 enough to do. I'm afraid he'll be out of health.' 
 
 ' Let us have him into the shafts and trot him 
 out a bit.' 
 
 ' What ? in the van ? ' 
 
 ' Of course, in the van.' 
 
 Zita flushed with pleasure. * I shall love it 
 above all things — but trot he won't. He never 
 trotted in his life but once, and that was on the 
 fifth of November. A gipsy had tied a Roman 
 candle to his tail. He trotted then. After 
 every flare and pop he went on at a run, then 
 he stopped and looked behind him for an ex- 
 planation. Then away went the Roman candle 
 again, and a great globe of fire shot away high 
 over the roof of the van. At that Jewel trembled 
 and trotted on once more. Father was away. 
 I was younger then by some years, and it 
 frightened me. I did not dare to touch the 
 Roman candle. Jewel ran about two miles, 
 and when the firework was exhausted, he stood 
 still, and, with thinking about it, and trying to 
 understand and unable, fell asleep in the middle 
 of the road. Father found us there, and he tried 
 to persuade Jewel to return the two miles, but 
 he was obstinate — tremenjous — and wouldn't
 
 A CRAWL ABROAD 179 
 
 move. At last father was forced to tie a Roman 
 candle to his nose, and that drove him back- 
 wards the two miles. But I don't think Jewel 
 ever quite got over the surprise of that fifth of 
 November.' 
 
 When Mark had done laughing at Zita's story, 
 — and Zita laughed as she told it, and laughed 
 when it was over, because Mark's laugh was 
 irresistible, — then the young fellow said, ' It will 
 be fun for me, pleasure to you, it will exercise 
 the horse, and freshen and sweeten the van. 
 We will go a drive, in preparation for the grand 
 tour in the spring. Where is the harness? I'll 
 rig the grey up.' 
 
 ' You do not know how to set about it,' said 
 Zita. 
 
 ' What ? not know how to harness a horse ? ' 
 
 'You do not know Jewel. He has to be 
 talked to, and his reason convinced. He has 
 his fancies, and they must be humoured. He 
 knows my voice and the touch of my hand, 
 whereas you are a stranger.' 
 
 Zita went to find Jewel and put the horse in 
 the shafts. Whilst thus engaged, she talked to 
 Mark. 
 
 'The master had him out one day, and put 
 him in the plough. It offended Jewel, who was 
 not accustomed to that sort of thing. He set his 
 feet straight down, stiffened his legs, back went 
 his ears, he curled his under lip, and looked out 
 at the corners of his eyes. Not a step would he
 
 i8o CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 take ; it hurt his self-respect. Now, wait here 
 by Jewel's head whilst I go indoors after the 
 crimson curtains and gold tassels. I could not 
 drive without them ; it would not be showing 
 proper regard for the van, and it might hurt 
 Jewel's feelings. It won't take five minutes to 
 rig up the curtains, and whilst I am after them, 
 you can make friends with the horse. Go in 
 front of him and speak flattering words; say 
 how shapely are his legs, and how silken is his 
 hair ; but, whatever you do, not a word about 
 the Roman candles, or he'll never take kindly 
 to you.' 
 
 ' All right, Zita. Where is the whip ? ' 
 
 ' Whip ? bless you ! he don't want a whip. 
 Why, the crack of a whip would so frighten him 
 that he would sit down. He'd suppose it was 
 fifth of November again. He'd curl his tail 
 under him, and lay his nose between his legs, 
 and set back his ears, but keep an eye open, 
 watching you and winking.' 
 
 Eventually, the van was considered by Zita to 
 be sufficiently decorated to be got under way, 
 and Jewel was induced, by flattery and caresses, 
 to start along the drove. 
 
 The van was lighter than Jewel had ever 
 known it to be, and he might have been ex- 
 pected to take this into consideration, and 
 accelerate his pace ; but, under the supposition 
 that by so doing he would be establishing a 
 precedent that might be quoted on a future
 
 A CRAWL ABROAD i8i 
 
 occasion, he adopted his wonted pace, as when 
 drawing the van laden with its many and 
 multifarious contents. 
 
 'The thing jolts — rather,' said Mark, laughing. 
 'What would become of the goods, were they 
 here ? ' 
 
 * They would be thrown all over the shop,* 
 answered Zita. ' That is why I am at Prick- 
 willow. I cannot get away. Jewel could not 
 pull the laden van along the drove ; and if other 
 horses were attached to it, everything would be 
 shaken to pieces.' 
 
 Presently Jewel came to a halt. 
 
 ' Shall I jump out and urgehimon?' asked Mark. 
 
 * No ; he is breathing. He will go on again 
 presently.' 
 
 'And whilst he is breathing, we will talk. 
 Conversation is impossible when we are bump- 
 ing into ruts and bouncing over clods. If this 
 be travelling when there is snow half-choking 
 the wheelruts and levelling the clods, what must 
 it be at other times ? ' 
 
 ' You see I am a prisoner at Prickwillow. I 
 cannot get away without the loss of all my 
 possessions.' 
 
 ' I see that now.' 
 
 Presently Mark said, ' Zita, why were you on 
 the river with Pip Beamish the other day P' 
 
 ' I hired him with half a pound of bird's eye 
 to punt me up stream. He behaved unfair ; he 
 went off and left me.'
 
 i82 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' And I had to bring you back — and mighty 
 cross you were. Was that because Beamish 
 had left you ? ' 
 
 ' I had cause to be cross when Beamish took 
 the bird's eye and did not half do the job. Now 
 ch"ng hard ; Jewel is moving forward, and we 
 must hold to our seats to save being tumbled 
 about and broken to bits.' 
 
 Mark was on one side of the van, Zita on the 
 other. He put out his hand to the curtains at 
 one lurch, and roused Zita to remonstrance. 
 
 * The curtains are for ornament, and are not 
 to be touched. They are of velvet plush. I 
 don't want to have your great hand marking 
 them. Lay hold of a rail. No ! not a gold 
 tassel ; you would pull that down, and maybe 
 bring away the whole concern. Oh ! ' 
 
 This exclamation was provoked by the off 
 wheel sinking into a rut, the depth of which 
 seemed unfathomable. The movement of the 
 van was like that of the mail steamer that runs 
 from Dover to Calais, in a chopping sea. At 
 one bound Zita was propelled forward, and, had 
 she not clung to the ribs of the vehicle, would 
 have been shot head foremost against the 
 opposite side of the van, with the result of either 
 perforating that side or of flattening her skull 
 against it. 
 
 Then, at the recoil lurch, Mark was projected 
 in the opposite direction, and was nearly cast 
 into Zita's lap.
 
 A CRAWL ABROAD 183 
 
 * I say, Zita, the exertion is prodigious ! ' ex- 
 claimed the lad. * I think I should prefer to 
 walk.' 
 
 ' But the honour is so great,' gasped Zita. 
 * It is not every day you can ride in such a 
 conveyance as this, and have velvet curtains 
 flapping, and gold tassels bobbing about your 
 head.' 
 
 * I'll try to think of it in that light.' 
 
 * Besides,' pursued Zita, * a shake up is as good 
 as medicine to the insides. It puts them on 
 their good behaviour. They are so tremenjous 
 afraid of having it again,' 
 
 ' But surely progress in this affair is not 
 always like this.' 
 
 'Of course not. It is only in the Fens there 
 are droves. It was bad at times where a high- 
 way had been new stoned. Then father and I 
 clung to the perishables.' 
 
 ' How do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' We took them in our arms, or held them. If 
 we were bruised, it did not matter ; we mend up 
 according to nature ; but pots and pans don't. 
 We always lost something, though. There was 
 that tea-kettle that troubled father's last hours — 
 it got a hole in it going over a bit of new road.' 
 
 This conversation took place in fits and starts, 
 between the joltings of the van. Presently 
 Jewel thought he had sufficiently exerted him- 
 self; he heaved a long sigh, looked back over 
 h's shoulder, and stood still.
 
 i84 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' There, now,' said Runham, pulling a large 
 red, white-spotted kerchief from his pocket and 
 mopping his brow, 'Jewel is breathing, and so 
 may we. This is agonies.' 
 
 ' I call it pleasure,' said Zita. * It must be, 
 because it isn't business.' 
 
 'What did the horse mean by looking back 
 at us, as he did just now when he sighed ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, he thinks it is his duty, now father's gone, 
 to keep an eye on us.' 
 
 ' I suppose, if I were to square accounts, as 
 the other day ' — 
 
 ' He'd have an apoplexy. For goodness' sake 
 don't' 
 
 ' I say, why did you go with Pip Beamish 
 when you would not go with me ? ' 
 
 ' I did not go with Beamish. He came with 
 me because I hired him. Tell me what took 
 you to Red Wings? Had you an account to 
 serve there ? ' 
 
 Mark became grave. He fidgeted on his seat. 
 He was an honest, open-hearted fellow, and dis- 
 liked prevarication, but there was hesitation, 
 there was evasion in his reply. 
 
 ' I have business of all sorts with all kinds of 
 people.' 
 
 ' That is no answer. I want to know why you 
 went to the mill to see Kainie.' 
 
 Mark rested his chin in his hand and con- 
 sidered. 
 
 ' I don't mind saying so much,' he answered,
 
 A CRAWL ABROAD 185 
 
 'but let it be between us alone. There is a sort 
 of a tie between her and me — a sort of a tie, 
 you know.' 
 
 ' I know nothing.' 
 
 ' I can't give you particulars. It's all right, — 
 if you knew, you would say so too, — but I can't 
 tell you more about it ; and it's a tie can't be 
 got rid of 
 
 Further explanation was interrupted, for a 
 head and pair of shoulders appeared in front 
 between the curtains. 
 
 ' Oh I you, Runham — and that Cheap Jack 
 girl! Which is it to be — she or Kainie? It 
 shall not be both.' 
 
 Pip Beamish was there, glowering at Mark 
 from under his bushy eyebrows. 
 
 ' Take care ! ' said Beamish, thrusting a long 
 arm into the van. ' Take care what you are 
 about. If you hurt one hair of the head of 
 Kainie, I'll shoot you through the heart. I've 
 time on my hands now. I'm turned out of my 
 mill by the Commissioners, and can choose my 
 occasion. I shall watch you. One or other — 
 leave my Kainie alone and stick to Jier' He 
 indicated Zita with one hand. 
 
 ' Pip,' said Mark, flushing very red, * do not 
 talk nonsense !' 
 
 ' Nonsense ? ' repeated Beamish ; ' that is how 
 you rich men treat these matters — sport and 
 nonsense ; but to us it is heartbreak and despair. 
 What have I but my one ewe lamb ? I have
 
 1 86 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 been expelled my mill because you Commis- 
 sioners think I'm a dangerous chap. You ain't 
 far wrong there. I'm dangerous to such as you 
 who are evil-doers. Take care, you Cheap Jack 
 girl, and make not yourself cheap to such as 
 Runham. He is free in his wealth to do as he 
 pleases. If he be the ruin of you, trusting in 
 him, will he lose his Commissioner's place ? If 
 he destroy my happiness by bringing harm on 
 my Kainie, will the laws touch him ? I may 
 not take a straw from his stables, but he may 
 rob me of my Kainie. He is rich — I am poor.' 
 
 * Pip ! you are the man I desire to see. I will 
 speak to you of this matter. Judge nothing 
 before you hear me ; and you, Zita, do not you 
 place any weight on his words — they are bitter 
 and false.' 
 
 ' Bitter,' repeated Pip, ' but not false. Nothing 
 that you can say will change my mind. Nothing 
 will alter my purpose. I warn you against an 
 injury to Kainie. You rich men of the Fens do 
 not seek a poor girl to raise her head and set her 
 up on high among yourselves, but to humble her 
 in the dust' 
 
 He laughed a fierce, scornful laugh. 
 
 ' I cannot say — you Cheap Jack Zita. They 
 report that you have money and goods. Have 
 you told him how much? If it be worth his 
 while, he will be honourable towards you. It is 
 all a matter of calculation. If you ain't worth 
 much, he'll throw you over, as he would throw
 
 A CRAWL ABROAD 187 
 
 over Kainie when tired of her. Best take care ! 
 If you dare ! ' 
 
 The man's eyes glared with white heat, and 
 he thrust his long arm towards Mark with 
 clenched fist. 
 
 'Pip/ exclaimed Mark, 'you are the man I 
 have been wanting to see. I will come out to 
 you.' 
 
 He jumped out of the van. 'Your words are 
 folly.' Then, 'You drive home without me, 
 Zita. I told you I had business with all sorts 
 of persons ; now I have business with Ephraim 
 — business of much consequence. May you get 
 safe back in that rattletrap, and not be shaken 
 to bits ! ' 
 
 ' Rattletrap ? Oh, if Jewel heard you ! ' She 
 spoke as laughing, to disguise her inward 
 trouble. 
 
 No sooner, however, was Mark gone than she 
 broke down and cried. 
 
 But her tears did not last long. 
 
 * He's venomous. He don't know all. I do 
 trust Mark. Besides— I've the van and money.'
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A DROP OF GALL 
 
 WHAT did Mark Runham mean by his 
 conduct? 
 
 He had left Zita to go after that fellow, 
 Pip Beamish, and they were together on the 
 embankment in close confabulation. The girl 
 looked after them from between the red curtains, 
 and could see Beamish gesticulating with his 
 long arms. He was excited, he was speaking 
 with vehemence, and at intervals Mark inter- 
 rupted him. 
 
 Something that Mark had said seemed to have 
 struck the orator with surprise. He dropped 
 his arms and stood like a figure of wood. He 
 let Mark lay his hand on his shoulder and draw 
 him along, speaking rapidly into his ear. 
 
 What this meant was plain to Zita. The 
 two men were rivals for Kainie of Red Wings. 
 They had been disputing ; Beamish hot and 
 impatient, and unwilling to listen to the other. 
 What was Kainie? A she-miller, as Zita put 
 
 188
 
 A DROP OF GALL 189 
 
 It, and ineligible as a wife to such as Runham. 
 Among fen-farmers no one marries for mere 
 love ; money or land is the substance for which 
 they crave. If a little love be sprinkled on the 
 morsel, so much the better, but it is no essential 
 — it is a condiment. Zita tossed her head. 
 She was not a beggarly miller ! She had the 
 van and its contents, red curtains and gold 
 tassels. She had money as well — the profits 
 of fair-days at Swaffliam, Huntingdon, Wisbeach, 
 Cambridge, and Ely. She had a good deal of 
 money in her box — none suspected how much. 
 Of course her wealth would not compare with 
 that of a fen-farmer, but it was enough to place 
 her immeasurably above Kainie, and within 
 reach of Mark if he chose to stoop a little — 
 just a little. 
 
 Zita turned the head of Jewel homewards. 
 Mark did not follow her to say farewell. He had 
 given her no thanks for the jolting and jumbl- 
 ing in the conveyance to which she had treated 
 him, though 'good as medicine to his insides.' 
 
 Zita was angry with the young man. She 
 did not relish the thought that he came to see 
 her one day and went to Kainie the next — nay, 
 that he visited both in the same afternoon. 
 
 It was true that he had made no overtures 
 to Zita — said nothing definite relative to his 
 condition of heart ; but he had kissed her, and 
 would have done so again had she not warned 
 him that it would give the horse an apoplectic
 
 190 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 fit. He had shown her plainly that he liked 
 her company, and that he was unhappy if he 
 did not see her daily. 
 
 His attentions had been noticed. Mrs. Tun- 
 kiss had commented on them, and the girl with 
 St. Vitus' dance had made a joke about them. 
 
 His visit that day to Prickwillow would 
 inevitably have been seen. The unusual sight 
 of the van out on an airing must have attracted 
 attention. And if the van had been seen, those 
 who saw it were certain to speak of it to those 
 who did not. That expedition would come to 
 the ears of Drownlands. 
 
 Knowing what she did, Zita was able to 
 account for the dislike Drownlands showed to 
 the presence of Mark Runham. The sight of 
 the young man was a sting to his conscience. 
 He would be afraid lest Zita, in conversation 
 with him, might let drop something about the 
 events of the night on which Jake Runham died. 
 
 But Zita was woman enough to see that there 
 was another reason why the master of Prick- 
 willow eyed the young fellow with dislike. He 
 was jealous of him. Zita perceived that Drown- 
 lands liked her, at the same time that he feared 
 her. She could discern in the expression of his 
 eye, read in his consideration for her comfort, 
 decipher in the quiver of his lips when Mark's 
 name was mentioned, that his regard for her 
 was deep, and that his dislike of Mark was due 
 to jealousy.
 
 A DROP OF GALL 191 
 
 Zita was accustomed to admiration ; she had 
 received a good deal of it in her public life, and 
 regarded it with contemptuous indifference ; but 
 the admiration she had met with in market and 
 fair had been outspoken ; this of Drownlands 
 was covert. Hitherto she had accepted it from 
 her vantage-ground — the platform of her own 
 habitation : now she was at a disad vantage — 
 the inmate of the house of the man who looked 
 on her with admiration. 
 
 She turned her thoughts again in the direction 
 of Mark. What were the ties binding him to 
 Kainie, of which he spoke ? 
 
 On consideration, she thought she could 
 understand. Mark had fallen in love with the 
 girl at the mill when in hobbledehoydom, and 
 had stupidly plunged into an engagement. Boys 
 are fools; and he was but just emerged from 
 boyhood. His father's death had knocked the 
 nonsense out of his head, and brought him to 
 the consciousness that he had made a blunder. 
 He was now a rich farmer; Kainie had nothing 
 of her own but the clothes she stood up in. 
 Moreover, he had since seen Zita, and had 
 become sincerely attached to her. So long as 
 he was tied to that miller-girl, he could not 
 speak of his wishes and purposes to Zita. He 
 was in a dilemma ; he was an honourable fellow, 
 and could not break his word to Kainie. Mark 
 was laying the case before Pip Beamish, and 
 was inviting Pip to take Kainie off his hands, 
 and set him free to speak out to Zita.
 
 192 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'Well/ thought the girl, as she put up Jewel 
 in his stable, * we all do foolish things ; some of 
 us do wrong things at times in our life. I 
 have done both in one — I sold a box of paste- 
 cutters at one and nine that cost father two 
 shillings. I've had that threepence as hot 
 coppers on my soul ever since. Well ! I hope 
 Pip Beamish will take Kainie. He loves her, 
 and he's suited to her — both are millers ; one 
 has nothing and the other nought — so they are 
 fitted for a match. I'll help matters on, or try 
 to do so. I'll see Kainie, and have a deal with 
 her — she is but one of the general public after 
 all. I daresay she likes Pip quite as much as 
 Mark, and is doubting in her mind which to 
 have. I know what I can throw in to turn the 
 scale.' 
 
 Accordingly, when the van had been con- 
 signed to its shed and the curtains removed to 
 her room, Zita knitted her fingers behind her 
 back and surveyed her goods, moving from one 
 group of wares to another. 
 
 After some consideration, she descended the 
 stairs and prepared to leave the house. 
 
 Mrs. Tunkiss peered out of the kitchen as she 
 heard her step, and said — 
 
 * Going to meet the master — be you ? ' 
 
 A malevolent smile was on her face. 
 
 ' No, Mrs. Tunkiss. I do not know in which 
 direction he has ridden.' 
 
 ' You'd like to know, would you ? You'd go
 
 A DROP OF GALL 193 
 
 and meet him, and he'd jump off his horse and 
 walk alongside of you, and say soft things. Oh 
 my ! The master ! Ki Drownlands say soft 
 things ! ' 
 
 The woman burst into a cackling laugh. 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' asked Zita, reddening 
 with anger at the insult implied in the woman''? 
 words. 
 
 ' Oh, miss, I mean nothing to offend. But I'd 
 like to know what the master will say to your 
 carawaning about with Mark Runham — what 
 the master will say to your receiving visits from 
 young men in the poultry-house.' 
 
 'That is no concern of yours; and for the 
 matter of that, I care nothing what he thinks.' 
 
 * Oh dear no ! But folks can't carry on with 
 two at once. Two strings to a bow may be all 
 very well in some things. I don't mean to say 
 that you shouldn't sow clover with your corn, 
 and so have both a harvest of wheat and one of 
 hay ; but with us poor women that don't do. 
 If it be a saying that we should have two strings 
 to one bow, there is another, that there's many 
 a slip between the cup and the lip.' 
 
 Zita pushed past the insolent woman. 
 
 Mrs Tunkiss shouted after her, * Strange 
 goings on — so folks say. There's Mark Run- 
 ham running after two girls, sweethearting both ; 
 and there's one girl — I names no names — running 
 after two men, and I bet she catches neither/ 
 
 Then she slammed the kitchen door. 
 13
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 NO DEAL 
 
 '^ I ^HE insolence of the housekeeper made 
 
 X Zita for a while very angry. It followed 
 so speedily on the scene in the van with Ephraim 
 Beamish. 
 
 Her cheek burned as though it had been 
 struck, and her pulses throbbed. She would 
 like to have beaten Mrs. Tunkiss with one of 
 the flails ; but with creatures of that sort it is 
 best not to bandy words, certainly not to give 
 them the advantage by losing temper and acting 
 with violence. 
 
 Zita did not long harbour her resentment. 
 She had other matters to occupy her mind 
 beside Mrs. Tunkiss. 
 
 The air was fresh and bracing to the spirits 
 as well as to the body. Zita walked on with 
 elastic tread, for she had recovered her good 
 humour. She wore a neat white straw bonnet 
 trimmed with black, and a white kerchief was 
 drawn over her shoulders and bosom. Hey 
 
 194
 
 NO DEAL 195 
 
 gown was black. She looked remarkably hand- 
 some. She had been accustomed to wear her 
 gowns short, and her neat ankles were in white 
 stockings. She was strongly shod ; the snow 
 brushed all the gloss off her shoes, but it was 
 not whiter than her stockings. She walked 
 along with a swing of the shoulders and a toss 
 of the head that were peculiar to her, and cha- 
 racteristic of her self-confidence. The winter sun 
 was setting, and sent its red fire into her face ; 
 it made her hair blaze, and brought out the 
 apricot richness of her complexion. 
 
 When she reached the brick platform of Red 
 Wings, Wolf did not bark, but ran to her, 
 wagging his tail. She had not forgotten him. 
 From her pocket she produced some bread. 
 Then, in acknowledgment, he uttered a couple 
 of sharp barks, and thrust his head against her 
 hand for a caress. 
 
 Kerenhappuch, hearing the barks, came out 
 and saluted Zita cordially. 
 
 * That's fine,' said she. ' Step inside. I was 
 just going to brew some tea.' 
 
 * I'm here on business,' answered Zita. ' Let 
 me sit down on one side of the fire and we'll 
 talk about it. Let's deal.' 
 
 'Deal? What do you mean?' 
 
 Zita drew a stool to the fireside. The turf 
 glowed red. The stool was low ; when she 
 seated herself, her knees were as high as her 
 bosom. She folded her arms round them and
 
 196 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 closed her hands, lacing her fingers together 
 and looking smilingly over her knees at Kainie, 
 with a gleam in her face of expectant triumph. 
 Kainie knelt at the hearth and put on the kettle. 
 She turned her head and watched Zita, whose 
 features were illumined by the fire glow, as they 
 had been shortly before by that of the setting 
 sun. Kerenhappuch could not refrain from 
 saying, ' What an uncommon good-looking girl 
 you are ! ' 
 
 ' Yes, so most folks say,' responded Zita, with 
 indifference ; ' and I suppose I am that.' 
 
 Kainie was somewhat startled at this frank 
 acceptance of homage. She pursed up her lips 
 and offered no further compliments. 
 
 ' I suppose Pip Beamish is sweet on you,' 
 said Zita, — * tremenjous?' 
 
 * Poor fellow ! ' sighed the girl of the mill. 
 ' Perhaps he is, but it is no good. He has not 
 got even a mill to look after now, and I have 
 barely enough wage to keep me alive. What is 
 more, the Commissioners are against him, and 
 won't let him get any work in the fen any 
 more.' 
 
 * Then let him go out of the fen ? ' 
 
 * Out of the fen ? ' exclaimed Kainie. * How 
 you talk ! As if a fen-man could do that ! 
 You don't find frogs on top of mountains, nor 
 grow bulrushes in London streets. That ain't 
 possible.' 
 
 * But there are fens elsewhere.'
 
 NO DEAL 197 
 
 'Where?' 
 
 ' I do not know. In America, I suppose. 
 There is all sorts of country there, to suit all 
 sorts of people. I'd go there if I were he.' 
 
 ' If there are fens in America, that's another 
 matter. But what is it you want with me, now, 
 partick'ler?' 
 
 Zita settled herself in her seat. 
 
 * I've come to have a deal with you,' she said 
 chirpily. ' That is what I have come about.' 
 
 ' But — what do you want of me ? ' 
 
 'We will come to that presently,' said the 
 Cheap Jack girl, and with her usual craft or 
 experience she added, * I will let you know 
 what my goods are before I name the price.' 
 
 * Price — money ? I have no money.' 
 
 * It is not money I want' 
 
 ' I do not fancy there's anything I require,' 
 said Kerenhappuch. 'And that is fortunate, for 
 I have not only no money to buy with, but no 
 place where I could stow away a purchase.' 
 
 ' Nobody knows what they wants till they see 
 things or hear about them,' said Zita. 'Bless 
 you ! if you were as well acquainted with the 
 British public as father and mc, you'd say that. 
 Take it as a rule, folks always set their heads 
 on having what they never saw before, didn't 
 know the use of, and don't know where to put 
 'em when they have 'em. I'm telling you this, 
 though it is not to my advantage. Now, what 
 do you say to a ream of black-edged paper and
 
 198 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 mourning envelopes to match ? — that's twenty 
 quires, you know.' 
 
 ' I write to nobody. I have no relations but 
 my Uncle Drownlands, and he never speaks to 
 me — won't notice me. I am not likely to write 
 letters to him.' 
 
 'Then what do you say to a garden syringe? 
 If you have a pail of soapsuds, it is first-rate for 
 green-fly. Father sold several to gentlefolks 
 with conservatories.' 
 
 ' But I don't belong to the gentlefolks, nor 
 have I got a conservatory.' 
 
 ' No,' said Zita, rearranging herself on her 
 seat. 'But if you wanted to keep folks off your 
 platform, you could squirt dirty water over 
 them.' 
 
 ' I have Wolf He is sufficient' 
 
 ' Well,' said Zita, with a slight diminution of 
 buoyancy in her spirits and of confidence in her 
 tone, 'then I'll offer you what I would not give 
 every one the chance of having. I offer it to you 
 as a particular friend. It's an epergne.' 
 
 ' An epergne ? What's that ? ' 
 
 ' It is a sort of an ornament for a dinner-table. 
 I will not tell you any lies about it. Father got 
 it in a job lot, and cheap considering how 
 splendid it is. It is not the sort of goods we go 
 in for. It lies rather outside our line of business ; 
 and yet there's no saying whether it might not 
 hit the fancy of General Jackass — I mean the 
 public — that was father's way of talking of it.
 
 NO DEAL 199 
 
 You really can't tell what won't go down with 
 him. Will you have the epergne ? ' 
 
 ' I'm not General Jackass, and I won't have it.' 
 
 ' But consider — if you was to give a dinner- 
 party, and ' — 
 
 'What? in the mill?' 
 
 * No ; when you marry a rich man.' 
 
 ' If I have any man, it will be a poor one.' 
 
 'Then,' said Zita in a caressing tone, ' I know 
 what you really must have, and what there is no 
 resisting. It is the beautifullest little lot of 
 perfumes. They're all in a glass box, with 
 cotton wool, and blue ribbons round their necks. 
 There's Jockey Club — there's Bergamot — there's 
 Frangipani — there's New-mown Hay — there's 
 White Heliotrope, and there's Lavender too. I 
 am sure there is yet another; yes, Mignonette. 
 One for every day of the week. Think of that ! 
 You can scent yourself up tremenjous, and a 
 different scent every day of the week. You 
 cannot refuse that.' 
 
 'But/ said Kainie, with a wavering in her 
 tone, a token of relaxation in resistance to the 
 allurements presented to her imagination, 'what 
 do you want for this ? ' 
 
 ' One thing only.' 
 
 ' What is that ? 
 
 ' Give up Mark,* 
 
 ' Mark Runham ? 
 
 ' Yes. Mark Runham. Is it a deal between 
 us? Now listen.' Zita held up one hand, and
 
 200 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 began again with the catalogue of perfumes. 
 ' There is Jockey Ckib for Sunday ;' she touched 
 her thumb. ' There is Bergamot for Monday ; ' 
 she touched the first finger. ' There is Fran- 
 gipani for Tuesday, and New-mown Hay for 
 Wednesday ' — 
 
 ' Give up Mark ? ' Kainie interrupted the list. 
 ' What do you mean ? ' 
 
 * What I mean is this,' said Zita : ' Mark told 
 me that he was tied to you somehow.' 
 
 ' He did ? It is true.' 
 
 ' But I want you to throw him up. Let him 
 go free. Say that there is no bond between you. 
 Think how you will smell, if you do ! White 
 Heliotrope on Thursday, then Lavender on 
 Friday, and Mignonette on Saturday.' 
 
 * Did Mark say how we were tied — bound ? ' 
 
 * No ; he only told me there was such a tie.' 
 
 * And Mark — did he set you to ask this ? ' 
 
 ' No, not exactly. It is my idea. Now do. 
 You shall have all the perfumes. Consider how 
 on Sunday you will make the Baptist Chapel 
 smell of Jockey Club ! ' 
 
 * Give up Mark ? Break the bond ? I can't 
 I could not, even if I would.'
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 DAGGING 
 
 WHEN Zita returned to Prickwillow, Lee- 
 hanna Tunkiss, with a malicious leer, 
 said, * The master is upstairs, and would like to 
 speak with you ; ' then, with a sidelong look at 
 the maid-of-all-work and a giggle, she curtseyed 
 and added ' Miss.' 
 
 Zita ascended leisurely to her room, removed 
 her bonnet and changed her shoes, put on an 
 apron, and then proceeded to Drownlands' office. 
 She did not hurry herself. She sauntered along 
 the passage and hummed a folk-melody — ' High 
 Germany.' She stayed to shut a bedroom door 
 that was ajar and swinging in the draught. She 
 trifled with a canary that hung in a window. 
 
 The office door was open. She knew that 
 Drownlands had heard her come in, had heard 
 Mrs. Tunkiss inform her that she was wanted, 
 heard her ascend the stairs. She knew that he 
 was waiting with impatience whilst she removed 
 bonnet and shoes, that he was chafing at the 
 
 201
 
 202 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 leisurely manner in which she approached his 
 den. 
 
 After a while she tapped at the half-open 
 door in careless fashion, threw it open and stood 
 in the doorway, and shrugged her shoulders, 
 then rubbed her hands as though they were 
 cold. 
 
 ' Mrs. Tunkiss said you required my presence.' 
 
 ' You have taken your time in coming.' 
 Drownlands was at his table ; he had been 
 biting his fingers. There was a sheet of blotting 
 paper on the board ; he had scratched it, torn 
 four strips out of it with his nails. His face 
 was troubled and was working. 'Why did you 
 not come at once ? ' 
 
 ' I had to remove my shoes ; they were wet. 
 I did not suppose you were in much of a 
 hurry.' 
 
 ' Come inside. Why do you stand in the 
 doorway ? ' 
 
 She obeyed 
 
 ' Well, is it necessary to leave the door wide 
 open behind you ? ' 
 
 She closed the door. 
 
 ' Shut it, I say.' 
 
 She obeyed, and leaned her back against the 
 valve, crossed her feet, and put her hands behind 
 her on the handle. 
 
 'Where have you been?' asked Drownlands 
 imperiously. 
 
 *To Red Wings, to see your niece. You
 
 DAGGING 203 
 
 don*t know her. It is a pity. You should 
 look after her ; she is your own relation. She 
 is not bad in her way, but awfully poor — and 
 pig-headed too, which poor people oughtn't to 
 be, because they can't afford it. I went to have 
 a deal with her, but it was of no use. She 
 would do no business with me.' 
 
 ' Oh, you have gone back to your old pro- 
 fession of Cheap Jack, have you ? ' 
 
 ' I never left it off. I Cheap Jack in my sleep 
 and make thundering profits. It is disappoint- 
 ing to wake in the morning and see all the 
 goods — and damaged ones too — on the shelves 
 where they were the night before, after I had 
 sold them off in my dreams at twenty-five and 
 thirty per cent, profits. There's an epergne has 
 been the nightmare to father and me. I wanted 
 Kainie to take it, but she wouldn't. Suppose 
 you buy it and present it to her, and so make 
 peace and love between you ? ' 
 
 ' Have done. I told you I did not wish you 
 to know her.' 
 
 'But I went on business, and my time was 
 wasted.' 
 
 ' You have also been with that — that fellow.' 
 
 'Yes, with Mark. I took him out for a 
 drive.' 
 
 ' In the road, in the van?' 
 
 'Yes ; the van wanted sweetening. The fowls 
 have been roosting on it, and have treated it 
 shamefully.'
 
 204 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' Be silent. What are you playing with 
 behind your back ? ' 
 
 ' I am playing with nothing. I am always at 
 work or doing business. I never play.' 
 
 ' And what work or business are you engaged 
 on now ? ' 
 
 * I am polishing the handle of the door.' 
 
 ' You not play ? You never play ? ' exclaimed 
 Drownlands, starting to his feet. ' You are 
 always at play, and I am your sport. You play 
 me as a fish, you dagg me like a pike. Look at 
 this.' 
 
 He went to the corner of his room, and from 
 the collection there thrown together produced 
 a singular weapon or tool, locally termed a 
 gleve. 
 
 ' Do you know the use of this ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' It is for playing,' said Drownlands bitterly. 
 ' See, there are six knives tied together by the 
 handles at the head, and all the blades have 
 been jagged like saws, the teeth set backwards. 
 Can you guess its purpose ? ' 
 
 ' No ; it's not a woman's tool.' 
 
 ' It is for playing — playing with pike. You 
 take this and dagg into the water ; you dagg 
 and dagg, and bring up a pike or an eel wedged 
 between these blades, cut into by these fangs. 
 He cannot free himself; the more he twists 
 and turns, the deeper into his flesh bite these 
 teeth, and the greater is his anguish of heart.
 
 DAGGING 205 
 
 That is play — play for him who does the dagg- 
 ing, not for the poor fish that is speared. And, 
 Zita, such is your play. With your fingers, with 
 your tongue, with your brown eyes, you dagg 
 for me, and I am the miserable wretch whom 
 you torture. It may be fun to you.' 
 
 ' I do not make sport with you, master,' said 
 Zita, with placidity of feature and evenness of 
 tone in strong contrast with his working face 
 and quivering voice. 
 
 ' You are at that handle again. Polishing it 1 
 Leave off, or you will drive me mad. Can you 
 not for one moment desist from tormenting me ? 
 You seek out occasion, means, to twang my 
 every nerve, and give me pain.' 
 
 * Master Drownlands, listen to me,' said Zita. 
 ' You are quite in the wrong when you say that 
 I dagg for you. Lawk-a-biddy ! I dagg for you ? 
 On the contrary, it is you who are dagging for 
 me, and I have to dodge to this side, then to 
 that, from your gleve, and as I happen to be 
 sharp of eye and nimble in movement, you do 
 not catch me. That is how the matter stands, 
 and not at all as you represent it.' 
 
 ' Who suffers ? ' asked Drownlands fiercely. 
 * Is it you, or is it I ? You stand there, com- 
 posed and complacent, rubbing up my door- 
 handle behind your back, and all the while I 
 am in torture. You cannot speak to me but 
 you stick a dart ; you cannot look at me but I 
 feel the knife cutting ; your very laugh causes a
 
 2o6 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 wound, and your weapons are all poisoned, and 
 the gashes fester. Here am I ' (he flung the 
 gleve back into the corner with an oath), ' your 
 victim, your sport — in suffering.' 
 
 He returned to the table. 
 
 ' Sit down,' said the girl. ' Do not work 
 yourself into a passion. There's no occasion 
 for that. Let us come to business.' 
 
 'Yes,' said Drownlands ; 'that is the only way 
 to deal with you. You have a sorry, commercial 
 mind. Everything to you must be a matter of 
 pounds, shillings, and pence.' 
 
 'That is the only way with me,' said Zita. 
 ' I was brought up to trade, and I love to drive 
 a bargain. That, if you like it, is sport ; it is 
 sport and business squeezed into one.' 
 
 * I will stand here,' said the man. ' You stand 
 there by the door, if you will ; only, I beseech 
 you, leave off polishing that cursed handle, and 
 reckoning, as I suppose you are, how many 
 farthings to charge me for it. As you say that 
 you love business, to business we will go. As 
 nothing affects you but what is presented to 
 your mind in a monetary light, to moneys we 
 will proceed. We also will have a deal.' 
 
 ' By all means,' said Zita, with a sigh of relief. 
 ' Now I am on my own ground. Do you want 
 to buy, sell, or barter?' 
 
 He did not answer immediately. He folded 
 his arms and stood by the window jamb, looking 
 over his shoulder at her.
 
 DAGGING 207 
 
 The dusk had set in after the set of sun, 
 but a silvery grey h'ght suffused the room, the 
 reflection of the snow on the ground. In this 
 Hght he could see Zita. She had withdrawn 
 her hands from the knob, and had them raised 
 to her bosom, and was rubbing one palm against 
 the other leisurely. A fine, clean-built girl. 
 He also was a fine man, with strongly-cut 
 features, picturesque, with his long black hair, 
 his swarthy complexion, his sturdy frame, and 
 the tiger-skin slung across his shoulders. 
 
 * Now I am ready,' said Zita. 
 
 He did not speak. He felt that much, every- 
 thing, depended on what he said, and how he 
 said it. His breath came quick, and his brow 
 was beaded with perspiration. 
 
 ' You are slow about it,' said Zita. ' Father 
 took an agency once for an Illustrated History 
 of the War. It was to be in twenty parts, at 
 half a crown a part, and four beautiful steel 
 engravings in each, of battles, and generals, and 
 towns. That Illustrated War was such a lone 
 time in progress that some of the subscribers 
 died, and others moved away, and some went 
 bankrupt, and there was no getting their money 
 out of some of the others. Father never would 
 have anything more to do with concerns that 
 did not go off smart like the snap of a percus- 
 sion cap. It seems to me that this business of 
 yours is going to be as long and tiresome as 
 that of the Illustrated War.'
 
 2o8 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' You are dagging at me again,' said Drown- 
 lands sullenly. 
 
 * I cannot speak a word but it takes you 
 contrariways,' observed the girl. 
 
 He left the window and came to the table, 
 leaned his hand on it, and stood with his back 
 to the light. Still unable to make up his mind 
 to speak, or how to speak, he began to tear 
 up the blotting-paper into little pieces and to 
 throw them about, some on the floor, some on 
 the board. When the last fragment had left 
 his fingers — 
 
 ' Zita,' he said in loud and vehement tones, * I 
 suppose I am twice your age.' 
 
 ' I should fancy more than that — a good deal.' 
 
 ' Be silent and listen to me.' He raised his 
 voice. ' I am rich. I have a large tract of land 
 — fen-land. I have turned over every turf, and 
 under each found gold. But it has not made 
 me happy. I have had many contradictions, 
 many sorrows, and some shame. My life has 
 been blistered and full of running sores. I have 
 ever been seeking and never finding, till I saw 
 you. When you came into my house, then I 
 knew at once that it was you I had craved for 
 and longed after, and that you, and you alone, 
 could give me what I can find nowhere else — 
 happiness.' 
 
 ' Give ? ' said Zita. ' I thought this was a 
 business matter.' 
 
 'Let me buy my happiness, then, at what
 
 DAGGING 209 
 
 price you desire. I have told you what I am 
 worth. When I see you, I feel the fire kindles 
 in my heart ; when I do not see you, it smoul- 
 ders ; and now — now I speak, it breaks out into 
 raging flames.' 
 
 ' I must leave this place, or you will go clean 
 crazy.' 
 
 'No, you must not — you shall not leave it! 
 I could not live without you, having once seen 
 you. Zita, I must have you ! ' 
 
 'Me?' said Zita. * With me go the van and 
 the goods.' 
 
 ' Curse the van 1 ' 
 
 ' You must not say that. The van is very 
 fine, if the poultry would but leave it alone ; 
 and with the curtains and tassels is fit for a 
 king.' 
 
 ' Zita, it is you only that I want' 
 
 * There are a lot of goods goes with me — 
 scrubbing-brushes, mops, brooms, door -mats, 
 pots and pans. Then there's Jewel — who is not 
 bad when he does go.' 
 
 ' You are trifling with me again. Listen to 
 me. Hear me to the end.' 
 
 ' I want to hear the end and have done with 
 it,' said the girl, ' I was reckoning up the 
 articles. Here's Cheap Jack Zita for one ; there 
 are all these promiscuous goods, that's two ; 
 here's the van, that's three; and t?here's Jewel, 
 that's four — a job lot.' 
 
 'You are mocking me.' 
 14
 
 210 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 * No indeed, I am not. We are after business, 
 are we not ? ' 
 
 But Zita was purposely protracting the scene. 
 She was in difificulties, and was searching to 
 find a way out of them. 
 
 ' Yes, business. You are mercantile. Listen 
 to what I offer. I am rich, a man of conse- 
 quence, and a Commissioner. Here is the 
 house, here is the land. I have money in 
 the bank — thousands of pounds; all — all I 
 have is yours; give me but your own self in 
 return.' 
 
 Zita was far from being unfeeling. She was 
 stirred by the earnestness, the devotion of the 
 man, but she was not for a moment doubtful 
 as to what her answer must be. Commercial 
 though her mind was, she could not accept him 
 at his price. Her scruple was how to word her 
 refusal so as least to wound him. In her 
 peculiar fashion — one inveterate to her — she 
 twisted the matter about so as to give it a 
 comical aspect. She saw no other loophole 
 for escape from a dii^cult and painful situation. 
 
 ' I am sorry,' she said, ' that number one in 
 the job lot is not to be parted with. That is 
 withdrawn from the sale, or bought in. But if 
 it is any consolation to you to have the van and 
 a share of the goods ' — 
 
 ' That is no consolation to me.' 
 
 ' A queer state of mind to be in — an unwhole- 
 some one, and looks like derangement of
 
 DAGGING 211 
 
 intellects. The van ought to comfort any man 
 with his faculties about him.' 
 
 ' Zita ! ' exclaimed Drownlands, striking the 
 table with his fist, 'you persist in fooling with 
 me ! I will not endure this. I am in deadly 
 earnest. I know the reason of this trifling. 
 Mark Runham ' — he choked with passion — 
 'Mark has stepped in, and you have given him 
 that heart which you deny me — a heart I would 
 give worlds — worlds ' — He turned to the 
 window. It was starlight now, starlight over 
 snowfields. * Look out, Zita, at the stars. It 
 is said that they are worlds. If all these were 
 mine, and filled with unimaginable masses of 
 treasure, the homes of unexampled happiness, 
 I would give all for you — all for you — listen to 
 me — merely that I might call you mine, and 
 then die.' 
 
 ' I cannot be yours,' said Zita in a firm voice. 
 ' And now that you have said this, I shall leave 
 the house.' 
 
 ' You shall not leave this house ! ' he cried 
 fiercely. * If you attempt it, — if I see that you 
 are about to attempt it— and I know whither 
 you would go, — then I will shoot you first, and 
 myself afterwards.' 
 
 ' I have to do, then, with a madman ? ' 
 
 ' Be it so — with a madman ; mad on one 
 matter only, mad for one thing only — you. I 
 make no empty threat. I swear by these stars 
 I will do what I threaten. I cannot and I will
 
 212 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 not live without you. I will kill you rather 
 than that you should belong to another.' 
 
 Zita came forward from the door, came to 
 the table. 
 
 ' I can never be yours,' she said in a tone as 
 earnest, as grave as his. * There is that between 
 us which makes it for ever impossible.' 
 
 ' What is the that—Msirk Runham ? ' 
 
 ' No— not Mark Runham.' 
 
 ' Who is it, then ? ' 
 
 'There is no iv/io. There is a something. 
 Must I tell you what it is? I would gladly 
 spare you.' 
 
 ' Tell me, and torment me no more.' 
 
 She stepped to the corner of the room, took 
 the flail up, and cast it on the table between 
 them. 
 
 ' The something is that flail.' 
 
 Suddenly through the window smote a red 
 flare ; it kindled the room, it turned Zita's hair 
 into a ruddy aureole, it streamed over the table, 
 and dyed the flail blood-red. 
 
 And Drownlands cast himself on his knees, 
 with a cry of anguish and remorse, and buried 
 his face in his hands. 
 
 Then through the house sounded a hubbub of 
 voices, and cries for the master.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE FEN RIOTS 
 
 SEVERAL and various causes had combined 
 to produce discontent in the Fens. 
 
 Those who Hved by fishing and fowling were 
 angry because the improved drainage had 
 destroyed their sporting grounds. Those who 
 had been left behind in the scramble for land 
 were discontented because others had seized 
 the advantageous moment for purchasing which 
 they had let slip. 
 
 The labourers were discontented because of 
 the lowness of the wage and the high price of 
 corn. How was it possible for a man on ten 
 or eleven shillings a week to maintain a family, 
 when wheat was at four to five shillings a 
 stone? 
 
 It is proverbial that such as have risen from 
 poverty prove the harshest masters. Such was 
 the case in the Fens. The landowners were 
 related by blood and marriage to the labourers 
 they employed, but, nevertheless, they ground 
 
 813
 
 214 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 them under their own heels, A specimen of 
 their brutahty may be instanced. Twice or 
 thrice the wheat had to be hoed, and the hoers 
 were women. Over them the farmers set a 
 ganger armed with an ox goad, who thrust on 
 the lagging women with a prod between the 
 shoulderblades. 
 
 The men were paid partly in money, partly 
 in corn, and were given the refuse wheat that 
 would not sell, wheat that had been badly 
 harvested, and had sprouted in the ear, wheat 
 that made heavy and unwholesome bread. 
 
 Labour in the Fens was of a specially trying 
 nature. The clayer was underground all day 
 in pits throwing up the marl that was to serve 
 as manure to the surface earth, and was half 
 stifled by the noxious exhalations from the 
 decomposing vegetable matter, and was im- 
 mersed half-way up his calves in fetid, phos- 
 phorescent ooze. 
 
 The cleaning out and deepening of the dykes 
 was trying work, for the workman was plunged 
 to his waist in stagnant water and slime, 
 tormented by mosquitos, and poisoned by the 
 stings of the terrible gadfly that threw him into 
 fever for a fortnight. Everything was poisonous. 
 The fen-water entering a cut produced gangrene. 
 If the hand or foot were wounded by a reed, 
 a sore was the result that resisted healing. 
 
 The expenses of the fen-labourer were heavy. 
 He could not do the tasks set him without a
 
 THE FEN RIOTS 215 
 
 pair of well -tanned leather boots reaching to 
 the hips, that cost him from thirty-six shillings 
 to two pounds the pair. 
 
 His comforts were small, and were disregarded 
 by the landowners. His cottage, though quite 
 modern, was supremely wretched. It had been 
 run up at the least possible expense, one brick 
 thick, and one room deep, on piles. But 'the 
 moor ' beneath the surface had shrunk through 
 the drainage, and the walls gaped, letting wind 
 and rain drive through the rents, and frost enter, 
 impossible to expel by the largest fire. 
 
 There was then, as there is now, and always 
 will be, a body of social failures — fraudulent 
 dealers detected and exposed, but not shamed, 
 men who, through their sourness of temper, or 
 indolence, or dishonesty, had failed in whatever 
 they took in hand. These were ready-made 
 demagogues, all talkers, all dissatisfied with 
 every person and thing save themselves, 
 accusing every institution of corruption, and 
 every person of injustice, because of their own 
 incompetence. They were in their element 
 when real discontent prevailed on account of 
 real wrongs. They rose into influence as 
 agitators ; they worked on the minds of the 
 ignorant peasantry, dazzling them with expecta- 
 tions impossible to be realised, and exciting 
 them to a frenzy of anger against all who were 
 in any way their superiors. These men were 
 rarely sincere in their convictions. They were
 
 2i6 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 for the most part unscrupulous fishers in troubled 
 waters. Of the few that were sincere, Ephraim 
 Beamish was one. 
 
 All the elements of dissatisfaction were 
 combined at the period of our tale, and the 
 high price of wheat produced an explosion ; 
 but it was Ephraim Beamish who applied the 
 match. 
 
 He had been expelled his office as keeper of 
 a mill by the Commissioners, and his enforced 
 idleness gave him leisure to pass from one 
 centre of discontent to another, to stir up the 
 embers, fan them to a white heat, and organise 
 a general outbreak. On a preconcerted day, 
 the labourers rose, and with them was combined 
 a large body of men of no particular calling, 
 who had no particular grievance, and no par- 
 ticular end in view. 
 
 No suspicion of danger was entertained by 
 the employers, and when the dissatisfied broke 
 out in open riot, they were taken by surprise 
 and were unprepared to offer resistance. 
 
 Bodies of men assembled at Mildenhall, 
 Soham, Isleham, Downham, and Littleport, and 
 the order was given that they were to march 
 upon Ely, and on their way were to extort from 
 the farmers promise of higher wage and cheaper 
 corn. In Ely contributions were to be exacted 
 from the Bishop, the canons, and all the wealthy 
 and well-to-do citizens. The mills were to be 
 wrecked and the banks plundered.
 
 THE FEN RIOTS 217 
 
 At the head of the whole movement was 
 Beamish, but he was more especially to act as 
 commander over the Littleport detachment. 
 
 Having got the men together, — the poachers 
 and wild-duck fowlers armed with their guns, 
 the labourers with cudgels, — he endeavoured to 
 marshal them into some sort of discipline and 
 subjection to orders. But this he found more 
 difficult than to bring the men together. He 
 found the men were not amenable to command, 
 and were indisposed to confine themselves to 
 exacting contributions. Fortified by their 
 numbers, they attacked the grocer's shop, the 
 vicarage, and the home of a retired farmer in 
 Littleport, broke in the doors and pillaged 
 them. 
 
 Having tasted the pleasures of plunder, they 
 were prepared to sack and wreck any house 
 whence they thought liquor or money was to 
 be got. 
 
 It was in vain that Ephraim Beamish 
 endeavoured to control the unwieldy body of 
 men. Quot homines, tot sententice. And as each 
 man in the disorderly love - feasts at Corinth 
 had his prophecy, his psalm, and his interpreta- 
 tion, so in this assemblage of peasants, each had 
 his opinion as to where lay the blame for the 
 distress or discomfort under which he laboured, 
 each had his private grudge to avenge, each his 
 special need which he sought to satisfy, and 
 ^11 were united in equal determination not to
 
 2i8 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 submit to dictation from Beamish or any other 
 man. 
 
 The tavern at Littleport could hardly escape, 
 although it had been a rendezvous of the dis- 
 satisfied. The mob rushed towards it to break 
 in and seize on the contents of the cellar. In 
 vain did Beamish protest that they were injuring 
 a good cause by their disorderly conduct ; all 
 desired drink, and none paid heed to his remon- 
 strance. 
 
 The taverner barely averted having his house 
 looted by rolling a hogshead of ale out of his 
 doors, and bidding the rioters help themselves. 
 
 Then Beamish sprang on a bench and en- 
 treated the men to attend to what he had 
 to say. 
 
 ' We want no words,' said one of the rioters. 
 * We are dry, we want drink. We've empty 
 pockets, and want to fill them. Our ears have 
 been stuffed with words. Keep them for chapel 
 on Sundays.' 
 
 ' I will speak,' cried Beamish. ' I am your 
 leader. You have sworn to follow and obey 
 me. You elected me yourselves.' 
 
 * Lead us to liquor and sovereigns, and we'll 
 follow sharp enough.' 
 
 ' You are wasting time. You are damaging 
 a righteous cause. Have we not to march to 
 Ely ? Have we not to visit the farmers on the 
 way, and impose our terms there?' 
 
 'There's plenty of time for that, Pip.'
 
 THE FEN RIOTS 219 
 
 'There is not plenty of time. The Mildenhall 
 men are on their way under Cutman, five hundred 
 strong.' 
 
 ' How do you know that ? ' 
 
 ' It was so planned. The Isleham men are 
 marching under Goat, the Soham men under 
 Gotobed. Who will be first in Ely ? Is Little- 
 port, that should lead the way, to come in at 
 the tail ? ' 
 
 ' There is something in that, mates,' shouted 
 one of the rioters. ' Stand in order, you chaps. 
 To Ely ! Bring along the waggon.' 
 
 The idea that, if looting were to be done, 
 they of Littleport might come in merely to glean 
 where others had reaped, and the consciousness 
 that a far richer harvest was awaiting them in 
 Ely than could be garnered in Littleport, acted 
 as a stimulus, and the mob desisted from 
 further violence, and roughly organised itself 
 into marching order. All were armed after a 
 fashion, with guns, pitchforks, cudgels, leaping- 
 poles, and cleavers ; and as the day was 
 declining, there was a cry for torches. 
 
 ' We shan't want them,' called one of the men. 
 ' We'll light bonfires on our way.' 
 
 Then a waggon was drawn out. In it were 
 stationed some fowlers with duck-guns. The 
 object of the waggon was to serve as a sort of 
 fortress. Those in it were above the heads of 
 the rest, and, in the event of resistance or an 
 attack, could fire over their heads. IMoreover,
 
 220 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the waggon would be serviceable to carry the 
 spoil taken on the way, or gathered in Ely. 
 
 Then the mob rolled along the great drove 
 or highway to the city, with shouts, and oaths, 
 and laughter, and trampled the snow as it 
 advanced, leaving a black slush behind it. 
 
 Many of the men were half intoxicated with 
 the ale and spirits they had already imbibed, 
 and all were wholly drunk with lust of gain and 
 love of destruction. 
 
 Then one in the waggon shouted, 'To Crumb- 
 land ! ' Another shouted, ' No, no ! Young 
 Runham is not bad. He has sold his wheat 
 cheap and thrashed out all his stacks. And 
 the old woman is a widow.' 
 
 ' That's nought,' exclaimed a third, ' if there's 
 any liquor to be had there ! ' 
 
 * To Gaultrip's ! ' was the cry. 
 
 ' Gaultrip is my cousin ! ' shouted another. 
 
 'That's nought,' called one of the mob. 'I 
 suppose he has money.' 
 
 ' Ely way 1 ' roared Beamish, scrambling into 
 the waggon. ' Drive ahead. What's the use of 
 being the commander, if nobody listens to the 
 word of command, and nobody thinks of obey- 
 ing it, if he does hear it ? *
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 TWENTY POUNDS 
 
 THE shrill voice of Mrs. Tunkiss was heard, 
 as she ran screaming up the stairs, calling 
 for ' the master.' Then she burst into his room, 
 followed by the maid-of-all-work, who was in 
 convulsive jerks. 
 
 * Oh, master ! there is a riot. Some of our 
 men have joined, and there is a stack on fire 
 at Gaultrip's. The mob is coming here, and 
 threatens to burn us.' 
 
 ' Who are coming ? ' asked Drownlands, 
 looking up. He staggered to his feet, but was 
 as one dazed. He did not observe the glare in 
 the room. He did not hear distinctly the words 
 spoken. 
 
 ' Look, master ! look at the blaze. It is at 
 Gaultrip's. You can hear them coming on. 
 They are swearing horrible, and say they will 
 have our lives.' 
 
 * What is this all about ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know for certain. Tom Easy has 
 
 221
 
 2 22 CHEAP JACK ZITA - 
 
 run here afore to tell us what he has gathered. 
 But lawk ! poor lad, he's frightened ; and me — 
 my poor head won't hold it. He says the mob 
 be armed with bombs and cannons, and all sorts 
 of engines of war, and they'll blow us up into 
 the skies.' 
 
 Drownlands passed his hand over his eyes, 
 then went to the window and looked out. 
 
 He saw in the distance the red blaze of a 
 burning rick, the flames dancing and leaping in 
 the air, and carrying with them wisps of ignited 
 straw, which were borne on the wind as fire- 
 brands, to carry destruction elsewhere. He 
 could see the mob advancing as a ripple of fire 
 running along the drove before a dark wave. 
 The rioters had, in fact, twisted up bands of 
 straw, had lighted them, and were waving them 
 as torches as they advanced, and the flames 
 were reflected in the dykes on each side of the 
 road. Drownlands was surprised. He threw up 
 the sash, and the roar of voices was carried into 
 the room. 
 
 ' What is the meaning of this ? ' asked he. 
 ' Who are these that are coming this way ? ' 
 
 ' It is the rioters,' answered Mrs. Tunkiss. 
 
 * Rioters ? What rioters ? ' 
 
 ' Lawk ! how can I tell ? Tom Easy said 
 they want advance of wages, and cheap flour. 
 And he said, they ask for money to help on the 
 cause.' 
 
 ' Cause ? What cause ? '
 
 TWENTY POUNDS 223 
 
 ' Lawk, sir ! how can I say ? Tom Easy said 
 it was the Union of Fen Labourers, and they 
 will have blood or money. They will make you 
 swear to pay them two shillings a-day more 
 wage, and pull the price of flour down to half 
 a crown,' 
 
 * They demand money of me, do they ? Let 
 them venture to require it of me.' 
 
 ' Here they are ! ' screamed Mrs. Tunkiss, as 
 a blow was levelled at the door, and the strokes 
 resounded through the house. 
 
 ' Who was that ? ' shouted Drownlands from 
 the window, with a curse. He was not a man 
 to spare oaths when he was angry. ' Who 
 struck my door? I will have the law of him.' 
 
 The mob was pouring into the yard. 
 
 * Make a blaze, and let us see the old tiger ! ' 
 shouted one of the rioters, and bunches of straw 
 and corn were snatched from a rick, a blaze was 
 made, and fire tossed about, illumining the 
 face of the house and the figures of the men in 
 the waggon. 
 
 * By heaven, I know you ! ' shouted Drown- 
 lands from the window. ' That is Aaron Chevell 
 in the waggon, and by him Isaac Harley and 
 Harry Tansley with guns. I'll not forget you. 
 I have a memory. I have five ash trees on the 
 drove side, and I shall have a rioter slung to 
 every branch of every tree, and shall begin with 
 my own workmen.' 
 
 'Hold a civil tongue in your head!' shouted
 
 224 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Chevell from the waggon. ' Don't threaten 
 what you can't perform. We have guns here, as 
 you see, and can silence you; and we shan't 
 think twice about doing so, if you do not come 
 to our terms.' 
 
 ' Master Drownlands ! ' called Ephraim Beam- 
 ish, working his way forward in the waggon 
 with his long arms, and leaning his elbows on 
 the front board when he had thrust himself into 
 the middle position, ' you will gain nothing by 
 abuse and threats. We have a good cause, and 
 are a thousand strong to support it. You have 
 had everything in the Fens your own way too 
 long, and have trampled the working men under 
 foot. You have coined their sweat into silver ' — 
 
 Someone shouted as a correction, ' Into gold.' 
 
 'Yes,' said Beamish; 'you have coined the 
 sweat of your men into heavy gold, and have 
 left the men to hunger, and toil, and nakedness ; 
 to cramp, and ague, and fever. They have 
 their rights as well as you. They have borne 
 their wrongs long enough. Now they have 
 risen to demand what in equity is theirs — some 
 share of the profits, some just proportion out of 
 your gains, so that they may live in comfort, and 
 not barely live,' 
 
 ' Shut your mouth ! ' roared one of the crowd ; 
 'we want no preaching now. We knows our 
 rights, and we'll maintain them with our fists, 
 and not with your tongue. Pip thinks he'll 
 convert Tiger Ki, he does ! Words won't do
 
 TWENTY POUNDS 225 
 
 that Send a shot at him, Tansley. That's the 
 only argument for him.* 
 
 Tansley, the man addressed, thrust Beamish 
 back with the butt-end of his fowling-piece, and 
 laid his barrel on the front board. 
 
 ' Listen, Master Drownlands,' shouted Beamish, 
 again making an effort to shoulder his way to 
 the front of the waggon. ' What we ask of you 
 is twenty pounds for the cause of the United Fen 
 Labourers. Give us twenty pounds, and swear 
 to the conditions — a fair wage and cheap corn. 
 Then we will do you no harm whatever. We 
 will take your money, and move along our way. 
 We are bound for Ely.' 
 
 *I pay you twenty pounds?' yelled Drown- 
 lands. ' I have a gun as well as you have, and 
 will contribute lead to the cause — lead only.' 
 
 He ran to the corner of the room and took 
 down his gun from the rack. 
 
 'I'll shoot,' threatened Tansley. 
 
 * Ay— and so will I,' said Drownlands, 'and 
 let us see who can take the best aim. I think 
 my eye is pretty well known to be sharp and 
 my hand steady. By the Lord, I'll not spare 
 you ! ' He paused and put on a hat. ' I can 
 see finely with all those wisps of fire. Hold up 
 your torches, boys, higher, that I may send my 
 bullet into Tansley 's heart. He will leap, and 
 then down he goes.' 
 
 Fallen pieces of ignited straw had kindled the 
 half-kneaded straw on the ground, and there 
 15
 
 226 • CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ran flames and half-flames to and fro on the soil. 
 The cart-horses in the waggon started and shifted 
 position to escape these flashes and flickers. 
 
 ' Drownlands ! ' shouted a young voice, and 
 Mark Runham thrust his way through the 
 crowd. ' I pray you be reasonable. You will 
 provoke bloodshed.' 
 
 ' "What, you there ? You a ringleader in riots ? * 
 exclaimed Drownlands, lowering his fowling- 
 piece. 
 
 * I am not that. Let me come within.' 
 
 Then Mark stood on the waggon-shafts and 
 called to the crowd — 
 
 ' Refrain from violence ! Leave me to 
 manage Master Drownlands. I will engage 
 him to let you have the money you require.' 
 
 Then he jumped down from the shafts and 
 ran up the steps. 
 
 The door had been bolted and chained by the 
 housekeeper, but Zita, hearing what Mark said, 
 without waiting for orders, descended to the 
 ground floor, and unbarred the door, and 
 admitted him. He ran upstairs, for no time 
 was to be lost. The mob was restless and 
 irritated. It was impatient to be on its way to 
 Ely, and yet was reluctant to leave Prickwillow 
 without having drawn money from it, or done 
 some mischief. 
 
 Drownlands was too angry to listen to advice. 
 He would not hear of coming to terms with the 
 rabble. He had been too long accustomed to
 
 TWENTY POUNDS i2>f 
 
 domineer over the labourers to fear them now. 
 He in no way reah'sed how much courage is 
 given by association in numbers. 
 
 ' What are you here for ? How dare you 
 enter uninvited?' he exclaimed, as Mark came 
 into the office, followed by Zita. 
 
 * I admitted him,' said the girl. * He has 
 come in your interest' 
 
 ' He is one of the rioters ! He is a leader ! 
 A Runham of Crumbland, with a tail of dirty 
 scoundrels after him, burning, pillaging, and 
 getting drunk.' 
 
 * I beseech you,' said Mark — * I entreat you 
 to listen to reason. The men are, as you say, 
 drunk — drunk with folly. I am no leader.* 
 
 ' You are acting for them.' 
 
 * I am an intermediary. They have spared 
 me. They came to Crumbland, but we 
 humoured them, brought out cake and ale, 
 and they went their way without molestation. 
 Gaultrip resisted, and they set fire to a stack, 
 and so frightened him that he yielded, and paid 
 fifteen pounds. Now he is engaged in saving 
 his other stacks. Do not provoke these fellows 
 further.' 
 
 ' I will not listen to you. You ought to be 
 ashamed to take the part of these scurvy 
 ragamuffins.' 
 
 * I am not taking their part, but yours. 
 Hark ! ' 
 
 There was a cry from the yard of, ' Drown-
 
 328 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 lands ! Tiger Ki ! We will break in the house 
 door unless you give us money.' 
 
 Then a brick was thrown. It crashed through 
 the double panes of the window with raised sash, 
 and fell in the room, accompanied by a shower 
 of glass splinters. 
 
 * I will shoot one of them ! ' exclaimed the 
 yeoman, and he ran with his gun to the window. 
 
 Mark had just time to strike up the barrel, 
 and the contents were discharged in the air, 
 hurting nobody. 
 
 Drownlands turned on him with an oath. 
 
 ' I will punish you,' he said, stamping with 
 fury, and he rushed upon Mark with his gun 
 raised over his head, grasping it by the barrel. 
 
 Then Zita sprang between them, holding the 
 flail in both her hands, as a ward against the stock. 
 
 ' Stand back, Mark ! ' she cried. ' He dare not 
 touch you across this flail.' 
 
 It was as she said. 
 
 The man stood as one paralysed, the uplifted 
 gun in his hands, his eyes glaring at young 
 Runham, and the red reflections of the fire 
 flashing on his face and turning it to blood. 
 But the blow did not fall. His muscles remained 
 immovable, the gun suspended in the air, till 
 Zita lowered the flail, and put it behind her back. 
 Then the spell was off him. He let the gun fall 
 on the ground, and his head sank on his bosom. 
 
 The discharge of the fowling-piece had pro- 
 duced a hush in the voices outside.
 
 TWENTY POUNDS 229 
 
 None knew whether, in the darkness, some 
 one had been hit. But when, after a pause, it 
 was found that no harm had been done, then 
 there broke forth loud cries and execrations ; the 
 courage of the rabble rose with a sense of its 
 immunity, and a rain of brickbats beat against 
 the windows of the house, shivering the panes. 
 The kitchen-maid fell on the floor in a fit. Mrs. 
 Tunkiss went into a series of shrieks. Renewed 
 blows were raised against the house door, and 
 they were accompanied with cries of, ' Smash it 
 in ! Tear the tiger's house down ! He has 
 hundreds of pounds put away somewhere. If 
 he will not pay twenty sovereigns when we ask 
 civil, we will take two hundred.' 
 
 Then one shrill voice cried, * Make a bonfire 
 of the wheat ricks.' 
 
 ' Ki Drownlands ! will you do nothing ? ' 
 asked Mark ; ' will you not give up a few pounds 
 to save those long ranges of stacks ? ' 
 
 ' Let them do their worst,' answered the 
 master of Prickwillow doggedly. ' By the 
 light of the fire I will note every face, and mark 
 them all down, man by man, and then woe 
 betide them.' 
 
 Then a burst of cheers, and cries of, ' That 
 will do famously. We will have that out. Get 
 horses, harness, and we will drive to Ely.' 
 
 Zita ran to the window, and returned hastily 
 with a blank face. 
 
 ' They have found my van ! They have got in-
 
 230 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 side. They are clambering on the roof. They are 
 treatingit worse than poultry! Oh, Mark ! Mark ! ' 
 Then through the window she pleaded, ' Spare 
 my van. Here are ten gold sovereigns.' Then to 
 Mark, * Take my money, go to the men, and get 
 them to leave my darling, precious van alone.' 
 
 * Stay,' said Drownlands. ' I have changed 
 my mind.' He went to the door and summoned 
 the domestics who had fled when the brickbat 
 crashed into the room. ' Come here, Leehanna. 
 Sarah, get out of your fits and come at once. 
 Come here, Tom Easy.' 
 
 The frightened servants obeyed. 
 
 ' Bring a candle,' he said. 
 
 The scared housekeeper did as required. 
 
 When Drownlands had received the light, he 
 went into the passage, and, holding it before the 
 face of Mark, said to the domestics, 'Do you 
 know who this is? Is not this Mark Runham ? 
 Can you swear to it ? ' He paused for an answer 
 to each question. 
 
 ' He has come here, pushed his way into 
 my house, against my wishes, to force me to 
 contribute twenty pounds towards the cause of 
 the rioters. He threatens me with the burning 
 of my ricks if I do not comply. Is it not so ? ' 
 
 * I have come,' said Mark, * because I am 
 desirous to save you, as well as others in jour 
 house, from injury ; and also to intervene and 
 protect these misguided men against committing 
 ^ crime.'
 
 TWENTY POUNDS 231 
 
 'They touched nothing at Crumbland.' 
 
 ' No ; we gave them food and drink,' 
 
 'Yes, you are hand and glove with them. 
 And now you are acting as their spokesman and 
 their leader. Take my money — twenty pounds, 
 and take Zita's ten pounds — thirty pounds in 
 all, the plunder of this house. Mind you, I give 
 it on compulsion. I do not find meat and 
 liquor for the rioters ; I do this to save my ricks 
 of corn. And I give it to you, Mark Runham, 
 acting for the rioters.' 
 
 Drownlands turned to those present. 
 
 ' I call upon you all to witness, you, Leehanna 
 Tunkiss, you, Sarah, you, Tom Easy, and you, 
 Zita, that I pay over my twenty pounds against 
 my will. Open your hand, Mark Runham. Let 
 them see that you have there my twenty pounds 
 and Zita's ten pounds. There are the sovereigns 
 all in gold. They are well spent — well spent — 
 they rid me of you.' 
 
 A few moments later a shout rang from the 
 crowd without — ' Tiger Ki has shelled out. For 
 the Union, for the Cause ! for the fen-labourers ! 
 Twenty pounds ! Twenty pounds for liberty and 
 right ! The cheap loaf and the big wage ! 
 Hurrah! hurrah, boys! Forward to Ely! On 
 to the banks. On to the mills ! ' 
 
 Drownlands looked after the retreating mob 
 from his window, and said, with a sneer, ' Go on 
 — to the gallows, Mark Runham ; I am clear of 
 you now. Cheap at twenty pounds.'
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 TEN POUNDS 
 
 A T OTWITHSTANDING the call of 'On 
 _^ to Ely!' the mob was not at once in 
 motion. Something delayed it. 
 
 Zita went to the window and looked out. 
 She saw that which excited and angered her, 
 and, turning her head to Drownlands, said — 
 
 ' It is a shame ! It is disgraceful 1 They have 
 taken my ten pounds, and yet they are carrying 
 off my van. They have put Jewel into the 
 shafts. They might as well have harnessed the 
 Archbishop ! He's stiffening his legs and setting 
 back his ears. Look how he's cocking his tail. 
 They will have to drag on van and Jewel 
 together. What a thing the general public is ! 
 I never knew it in this mood before, and yet I 
 thought I knew it pretty well. I'll clear the 
 public out of my van. There are a dozen inside, 
 and a score on the roof. They have no right to 
 do this after accepting my money.' 
 
 She left the window. 
 
 23?
 
 TEN POUNDS 233 
 
 * Zita, where are you going ? ' asked Drovvn- 
 lands, 
 
 * Going to send the general public skipping,' 
 she answered. 
 
 ' You cannot do it. It is not safe to leave the 
 house.' 
 
 'Trust me. I've swept the poultry off, and 
 I'm not afraid of the public. I know how to 
 deal with them as I do with fowls.' 
 
 Before Drownlands had time to offer further 
 remonstrance, she had darted out of the office, 
 run to her own room, taken a pair of fencing 
 foils from the stores, had descended the stairs 
 two steps at a time, had unbarred the door and 
 was out in the yard, making for the van, 
 
 ' Stand still — don't move,' she said to Jewel, 
 as she passed his head ; and he turned one of 
 his eyes at her and winked. 
 
 ' Clear away at once,' she shouted to those 
 around the van. 'You have taken my mone)', 
 and must let the conveyance alone.' 
 
 ' Who are you ? We've no money of yours.' 
 
 * Yes, you have. I sent out ten pounds to you. 
 Go, ask your commander, secretary, treasurer, or 
 whatever you call him. He has pocketed my 
 ten pounds, and you are bound to leave my van 
 alone. I am the Cheap Jack girl.' 
 
 'Are you the daughter of the Cheap Jack who 
 died here ? ' 
 
 'Yes, I am; and this is my van. Hands off. 
 You have no quarrel against me. What have I
 
 234 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 done to make bread dear and keep wages low ? 
 I do not belong- to these parts. Stand aside.' 
 
 She thrust her way to the back of the van 
 where was the glass door. This had been 
 opened, and several men had ensconced them- 
 selves inside on the benches, 
 
 Zita entered, a foil in each hand. Within it 
 was dark, but she nevertheless knew that the 
 interior was packed full of men. 
 
 ' This is my conveyance,' she said imperiously ; 
 'you have no more right to enter it than you 
 have to occupy the house of the Lord Mayor. 
 I have got a sword in each hand. I cannot see 
 any one in the dark, but I will dagg with each 
 hand, as you dagg for eels, and I will go on 
 <^agging till I have got a man wriggling at the 
 end of each.' 
 
 Down went the front of the van, and out 
 tumbled a dozen lusty men, one over another, 
 stumbling, falling, sprawling, in the trampled 
 snow and straw. 
 
 Zita went through the van from aft to fore, 
 and satisfied herself that it was cleared of its 
 human occupants. Then, standing on the plat- 
 form, which had been thrown forward by those 
 who burst away from her foils, she looked up at 
 the roof. A score of men and youths was on it, 
 their legs pendent. 
 
 * Down with you at once,' she said. ' Do you 
 see these rapiers? Do you think I can't run a 
 man through as easy as stick a needle in a pin-
 
 TEN POUNDS 235 
 
 cushion ? It's not the running in — it's the puUing 
 out is the trouble. There's a button at the end 
 of each blade. I have got only two — so I can 
 pin but two of you, and that shall be the last 
 two that leave the roof.' 
 
 She made as though about to scramble on to 
 the top of the van, and away went the men 
 seated there, dropping like ripe pears from a 
 tree. 
 
 Zita leisurely reclosed the front of the van, 
 and went out at the back and shut that door 
 also. 
 
 'That's a good job done. Jewel,' said she. 
 ' Now run the van backwards into the shed, and 
 you shall return to the stable. Roman candles. 
 Jewel — pop-bang! Roman candles at your 
 nose.' 
 
 ' Hold there, you Cheap Jack girl ! ' shouted a 
 broad-shouldered man, coming up and laying 
 his hand on the bit. ' We have taken this con- 
 veyance for the Union. It is confiscated.' 
 
 * Whether taken and confiscated I cannot say,' 
 said Zita. ' But I know I have paid ten pounds 
 to have it untaken and set at liberty. Return 
 my ten sovereigns if you take from me my van.' 
 
 *We have no ten sovereigns of yours.' 
 
 ' Yes, you have. And a shame it is that you 
 should rob a poor Cheap Jack girl. Not that 
 she belongs to the general public, save and 
 deliver us ! — but she is a working girl, and poor.' 
 
 ' We have had no money of yours, and we
 
 236 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 requisition the van. We want to load it in Ely. 
 It will serve our purpose better than a waggon.' 
 
 ' You shall not have it,' replied Zita. ' Fair 
 trade is fair trade, and he that will not deal 
 honourably I will run through, and leave the 
 button sticking between his shoulders, and that 
 will spoil a good weskit' 
 
 The man sprang back as she threatened him 
 with one of the foils. 
 
 ' I will tell you what it is,' said Zita ; ' you 
 will not believe me till I have made an example 
 of one of you.' 
 
 'Where is your ten pounds?' asked Pip 
 Beamish, who had descended from the waggon. 
 
 ' Ay,' said several of those who stood round ; 
 
 * that is what we should uncommon like to 
 know.' 
 
 • Where are my ten pounds ? ' repeated Zita. 
 
 * That is a fine question for you to put to me, 
 when Til be bound you have them in your 
 pocket.' 
 
 ' Bring them out, Pip ! ' called one of the men. 
 
 ' I have not got her money. I have not 
 touched it,' protested the commander. 
 
 ' I gave it to Mark Runham along with the 
 master's twenty pounds.' 
 
 ' The twenty pounds has been put into the 
 Union box — I never touched your ten.' 
 
 ' Come, come, Pip,' said a cluster of men, 
 'no shuffling. Mark wouldn't have held back 
 the money. You have had it, sure enough.'
 
 TEN POUNDS 237 
 
 ' I have not had one farthing of it* 
 
 ' I paid ten pounds to have my van set at 
 liberty. I did not wish to have it sat upon, 
 and the sides kicked, and the varnish scratched, 
 I gave ten pounds to save it from that' 
 
 ' What did you get, Beamish ? ' asked Aaron 
 Chevell. 
 
 ' I got just twenty pounds and no more — the 
 twenty pounds that Drownlands contributed, 
 and that I put into the box with the rest' 
 
 'And not my ten?' exclaimed Zita. 'That 
 is a falsehood. My ten was with his twenty. 
 Thirty pounds in all, in gold.' 
 
 ' There has been cheating,' shouted two or 
 three. 
 
 'That is what comes of jaw and preaching.' 
 
 ' Mates,' said Aaron Chevell, ' we must not 
 let this pass. Let us have judge and jury 
 There has been robbery of the common fund. 
 Mates, I vote that we arrest Pip Beamish, and 
 try him at once.' 
 
 ' Have him up in the cart,' said Tansley. 
 ' Comrades all ! light some more straw wisps. 
 There has been a case of roguery. There has 
 been our chief officer taking the money that was 
 contributed to the Union, and pocketing it for 
 his private use. I charge Ephraim Beamish, 
 and vote that he be deposed from his command, 
 and be tried for felony.' 
 
 ' I second it,' shouted Isaac Harley. ' And 
 what I say is — like enough. He who wants
 
 238 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 most has taken it A chap as hasn't a house to 
 call his home, nor an honest employ in which to 
 earn his living.' 
 
 ' It is not what I calls respectable,' said one 
 man, 'that we should march under such a rascal' 
 
 Then ensued a chorus of voices. 
 
 * Up into the waggon with him, and try him 
 there.' 
 
 In vain did Beamish protest that he had not 
 defrauded the Union, that he had received no 
 more than twenty pounds. The rest suspected 
 him, and were jealous of his assumption of 
 authority. 
 
 'You Cheap Jack girl,' called Chevell, 'we 
 want your evidence. Ay, bring the swords along 
 with you, if you're afraid of us, but we do not 
 hurt women.' 
 
 Zita allowed herself to be conducted to the 
 waggon, and assisted into it with rough courtesy. 
 
 A fen-farm waggon is a very massive structure, 
 more massive, perhaps, than one in other parts 
 of England. It has its peculiarity, which con- 
 sists in the front board being unusually high 
 and arched at top. Often may women be seen 
 going to market in the waggons, crouching 
 against this high board, which screens them 
 from the wind. 
 
 There is much vermilion paint employed on 
 the waggons, and the front board usually blazes 
 with colour. It was so on this occasion. The 
 waggon carried off by the rioters had recently
 
 TEN POUNDS 339 
 
 been painted, and the vermilion was of the 
 brightest. 
 
 Isaac Harley cried from his place in the 
 waggon, * Mates, who is to be judge ? ' 
 
 ' We will have no judge but ourselves,' was the 
 ready response. 
 
 * Then,' cried Tansley, ' choose your jury.' 
 ' We will all be jury ! ' shouted the mob. 
 Then Aaron Chevell, standing forward, said, 
 
 ' Comrades, the case is this. This young gal — 
 she is the Cheap Jack's lass, staying here — says 
 she gave ten sovereigns in gold to the labourers' 
 cause, to have her van let alone. And she gave 
 it along with the twenty pounds of Tiger Ki. 
 Now we want to know what has become of this 
 contribution of hers. Ephraim Beamish swears 
 he never received it' 
 
 * I had the twenty pounds of Mark Runham,' 
 said Beamish, ' but not ten besides.' 
 
 'You stand by the front board,' said Chevell 
 to Zita, 'and tell your story. We will hold 
 Beamish, and every one shall judge.' 
 
 ' What ? the general public ? ' asked Zita, 
 looking round at the crowd of upturned faces, 
 
 ' Yes ; it shall give judgment.' 
 
 'Then you'll have rare judgment,' said Zita. 
 She went forward to the place pointed out to 
 her, and stood there, with her back to the scarlet 
 board, and leaned on her foils. Blazing straw 
 wisps were held up, brilliantly illumining the 
 whole scene.
 
 240 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'I call to silence,' said Cheveli, 'and let us 
 hear what the Cheap Jack gal has to say.' 
 
 * What I have to say is this,' said Zita. ' I 
 saw that you had drawn out my van, the house 
 in which I was born and reared, the shop 
 whence all our profits came, and were treating 
 it worse than did the poultry. So I gave my 
 savings to Mark Runham, ten pounds, all I had 
 on me in gold, at the same time that the master 
 gave twenty pounds to save his corn-stacks. 
 Mark Runham took it to the man, Pip Beamish, 
 who is your captain.' 
 
 ' No, he ain't ! we have deposed him ! ' was 
 shouted on all sides. 
 
 Then voices were raised for Runham, but 
 Mark was not to be found. 
 
 'We want another witness,' said Cheveli. 
 
 'There is one,' said Zita, pointing with a foil 
 to Drownlands at the window of his office. 
 ' There are more if you desire them — Leehanna 
 Tunkiss, the girl Sarah, and Tom Easy. They 
 all saw me give Mark the money.' 
 
 Aaron called to Drownlands if it was so. 
 Drownlands answered in assent. 
 
 'Summon the other witnesses,' commanded 
 the self-constituted judge. 
 
 Whilst the men knocked at the house door 
 and demanded the presence of Mrs. Tunkiss 
 and the girl Sarah, Beamish raised his voice in 
 protest. 
 
 'I say, mates and comrades all, this is
 
 TEN POUNDS 241 
 
 strange and unwarranted proceedings. Am not 
 I your leader?' 
 
 A shout of, ' You was — but you're a thief — 
 we'll have none of you. I vote for Aaron 
 Chevell. Duck him ; he's a turncoat. He's a 
 cheat and robs the poor men.' 
 
 'It is false!' shouted Beamish, between rage 
 and disappointment. ' How can I have acted 
 as you say, when I am the man who urged you 
 on, — I, who have the cause at heart more than 
 any of you ? ' 
 
 ' Oh yes ! that's how Judas talked ! ' shouted 
 some one in the crowd. Then there came 
 yells of, 'Judas! Judas! Let him hang like 
 Judas ! ' 
 
 The door of the house was not opened to 
 allow the witnesses to issue at the dictate of the 
 mob. 
 
 ' We must have more witnesses,' said Chevell. 
 ' We don't lay much store on Drownlands. He 
 ain't taken the oath.' 
 
 Then Zita appealed to the master of Prick- 
 willow to suffer the maids to come forth. After 
 some hesitation he agreed. 
 
 'I'll let 'em out if you'll hang Beamish,' 
 shouted he from the window. 
 
 Presently the door of the house was cautiously 
 opened, and Drownlands, who stood at it, thrust 
 forth the two women. Mrs. Tunkiss was white 
 and quaking ; Sarah nigh upon a fit. 
 
 * Now, then,' demanded the judge, * up into 
 16
 
 242 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the waggon \vi' you. And, lads, hold up the 
 torches that I may see if they looks honest and 
 truthful. You — I.eehanna Tunkiss — did this 
 Cheap Jack girl give ten pounds for us into 
 the hands of Beamish ? ' 
 
 ' Oh yes ! forty ! ' exclaimed the woman, who 
 did not understand what was being done, and 
 thought she might be incriminating Zita, or 
 doing her some harm by the admission. 
 
 ' She don't quite agree about the figure, — she 
 says forty, — but she establishes the fact,' said 
 Chevell, addressing the crowd. ' You swear to 
 it?' 
 
 ' Oh, I swear!' exclaimed Mrs. Tunkiss. ' Oh, 
 gentlemen, let me down ! I shall faint' 
 
 ' Pass her down,' ordered Aaron. ' Now you 
 other — Sarah Gathercole — did she give him 
 money? She shakes her head — I mean she 
 nods.* 
 
 ' She has the Vitus' dance,' protested the 
 accused. 
 
 ' She understands what's she's axed — eh ? ' 
 
 The poor girl nodded in her nervous fit. 
 
 'And you swear to it — the Cheap Jack girl 
 gave ten pounds ? ' 
 
 Again she went into fits of jerking and 
 nodding. 
 
 ' She's mighty sure of it, that she be,' said 
 Aaron. ' What say you, mates and chums ? Is 
 it proved ? ' 
 
 A roar in response, in the afifirmative.
 
 TEN POUNDS 243 
 
 ' Now then,' said Chevell, ' it is for Pip 
 Beamish to answer in his defence.' 
 
 ' I never had more than twenty pounds. 
 Search me if you will.' 
 
 ' You may have been too sharp for that,' said 
 Isaac Harley. • Mates, he ain't got a defence. 
 I vote for condemnation. This Pip Beamish 
 has been terribly stuck up, and has given him- 
 self the airs of a dook, and has been ordering 
 us about, I vote that he is a thieving rascal. 
 What say you ? ' 
 
 ' Hear ! hear I We say the same ! ' Then 
 ensued shouts of, 'Kick him down! Duck 
 him ! Chuck him into the Lark ! ' 
 
 In a moment Beamish was plucked out of 
 the waggon, flapping his long arms in protest 
 and entreaty, was jostled, beaten, kicked, and 
 finally thrown into the dyke — the one honest 
 and sincere man among the leaders of the 
 rabble. 
 
 ' Now then, mates,' called Chevell, ' it is right 
 and proper that we should elect another com- 
 mander.' 
 
 * We want no commanders!' shouted the mob. 
 ' We know what we want ! We will all be 
 commanders ! Are we not the general public ? ' 
 
 * Then I vote,' cried Harley, ' that we lose no 
 more time, but move on to Ely.' 
 
 Zita was helped out of the cart. The im- 
 provised torches were set in motion, forming a 
 line of fire as the whole mob of rioters left the
 
 244 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 farm, and marched along the dark embankment, 
 whilst the waggon bounced below on the drove. 
 
 As Zita stood by the van, which she had 
 thrust back with the aid of Jewel into the shed, 
 a hand was laid on hers. 
 
 'Zita!' 
 
 The voice was that of Mark. 
 
 ' Oh, Mark ! ' 
 
 'Zita, here are your ten pounds. I did not 
 give them to Beamish.' 
 
 ' Mark ! and he has been deposed, and cuffed 
 and beaten, for having stolen it' 
 
 ' He has been thrown into the dyke, and I 
 have helped him out of the water. Do not be 
 disconcerted. I could not have done him a 
 better turn than this, to get him out of associa- 
 tion with men who are running their heads 
 into hangmen's nooses.* 
 
 N
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A NEW DANGER 
 
 MARK, how was it that you did not give 
 them my ten pounds?' 
 'Why, my dear Zita, I thought I could get 
 them off without it, I gave them Drownlands' 
 twenty. He escaped cheap at that price, and 
 twenty pounds is nothing to him. I made sure 
 I could induce them to leave your van alone 
 without payment to do so, and when I saw 
 them harness Jewel to it, then I was quite 
 certain they would have to leave it ; you do not 
 suppose I would have suffered those rascals to 
 take your money except in an extremity ? To 
 rob you was to rob me, Zit — for I never would 
 have suffered you to lose those ten pounds. If 
 I had been constrained to give them up, I would 
 have refunded this sum to you out of my own 
 pocket' 
 
 * You are very good.' 
 
 * Not at all. I have more money than I know 
 how to spend.' 
 
 245
 
 2 46 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'You are good all round. You pulled Pip 
 Beamish out of the water, and I know you do 
 not love him.' 
 
 ' You see I help one I love, and one I do not 
 love.' 
 
 Zita coloured. ' I did not mean that.' 
 
 ' Then I do/ said Mark roguishly. ' You are 
 in the right in this, that I do not love Beamish, 
 — for one thing, because I think him a perverse, 
 meddlesome, mischievous, discontented donkey, 
 and for another, because of Kainie.' 
 
 ' Kainie again ? ' exclaimed Zita, drawing 
 back. 
 
 'Yes, because I do not choose to have him 
 running after her.' 
 
 ' Why should he not run after her as well as 
 you? ' 
 
 * Because he can never make her happy.' 
 
 ' And you can ? ' 
 
 ' I can try,' said Mark. 
 
 ' Well, that is frank ! ' said Zita, huffed. ' You 
 called me " Dear Zita," just now — I suppose it 
 is " Dear Kainie " as well.' 
 
 ' My dear Zita '— 
 
 ' Perhaps you will keep your " dears " for her, 
 or any one else who cares to have them and 
 share them with others. I do not wish to be 
 so termed. I refuse to be so called.' 
 
 She turned to leave. He caught her by the 
 arm. 
 
 ' Do not be cross. I cannot explain matters
 
 A NEW DANGER 247 
 
 now. It is all right. I did not mean to offend 
 you.' 
 
 But Zita would not speak. She hastened to 
 the house with pouting lips, burning cheeks, 
 and sunken eyes. As she entered, she en- 
 countered Drownlands, in his slouched hat, and 
 wearing a long great-coat in place of his usual 
 tiger-skin. He held a whip in his hand, and 
 had a pistol sticking out of his breast pocket. 
 
 * Are you going out ? ' asked the girl. 
 
 'Yes. You are in no further danger. The 
 rabble will not return. I shall follow them.' 
 
 ' Why so ? ' 
 
 *To bring all I can to the gallows. I shall 
 watch every man I know, and see what his 
 proceedings are. I shall take account of every 
 act of lawlessness. They have not had my 
 twenty pounds for nothing. I shall get some 
 satisfaction in return. In Ely folks will be too 
 much alarmed, the faces will be too strange for 
 there to be recognition of offenders. That is 
 my work. I shall witness against them, man 
 by man, beginning with my own labourers who 
 have revolted against me. I have purchased 
 the right with my twenty pounds — a life for 
 every pound — ha ! ha ! ' 
 
 Then, looking steadily into Zita's eyes, he 
 said in a low, bitter tone, * I shall begin with 
 Mark Runham.' 
 
 ' Mark ? ' echoed the girl. ' He has done no 
 harm.'
 
 248 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' Has he not ? He entered my house unin- 
 vited. He acted for the rioters. He was their 
 mouthpiece. He extorted money from me for 
 them.' 
 
 He struck his boot with his whip, strode 
 faster, then turned on the doorstep and said, 
 ' If not the gallows for Mark, then transporta- 
 tion. I am well rid of him. See what it is for 
 a man to venture himself in my way.' 
 
 Zita was startled. What had Mark done to 
 incur the penalties of the law? Was it con- 
 ceivable that Drownlands was in earnest ? He 
 made idle menaces. He had threatened to 
 string the rioters to every bough of his five ash 
 trees. He had not done it, and he could not 
 do it. His present menace was as empty. 
 
 She watched the master ride forth from the 
 stable when he had saddled his horse himself. 
 No man was left on the premises to attend on 
 him. The boy, Tom Easy, was too frightened 
 to be of service, and Drownlands was impatient 
 to be off. 
 
 As the farmer rode past the door, he turned 
 his face towards Zita, but in the darkness she 
 could not see its expression. 
 
 He pointed in the direction of Ely with his 
 whip, and at that moment Zita heard a roar of 
 voices, followed by an explosion of firearms 
 borne upon the wind. In fact, the rioters had 
 reached the metropolis of the Fens. They had 
 let the waggon precede the marching body.
 
 A NEW DANGER 249 
 
 The front board had been notched to receive 
 the fowh'ng-pieces, and the insurgent labourers, 
 on reaching the main street, had announced 
 their entry by a discharge of firearms and a 
 ringing shout, calculated to strike terror into 
 the hearts of the citizens. 
 
 Zita did not remain long inactive, listening to 
 the sounds of uproar in the distance. 
 
 ' Sharp ! a pail ! ' she called to the quaking 
 kitchen-maid. ' There is no reason why you 
 should be idle, or I either, because a parcel of 
 men are making fools of themselves.' 
 
 ' A pail ? What can you want a pail for at 
 such a time as this ? ' asked Mrs. Tunkiss. 
 'You ought to be down on your knees pray- 
 ing.' 
 
 ' You would want a pail, and soap, and water, 
 and a scrubbing-brush, Leehanna, if you had 
 been drawn out into the yard, and had had a 
 score of bumpkins sitting on your back and 
 kicking your sides with their dirty boots. I am 
 not going to let my van remain all night in its 
 present condition, to have the clay caked over 
 it in the morning, just because wheat is up and 
 wages down, and folks don't like to have it so. 
 I will clean the van before I go to bed.' 
 
 Mrs. Tunkiss and Sarah were too much over- 
 come to render assistance. Sarah was shaking 
 and jerking in every limb, and Leehanna had 
 got down her Bible to read about the fire and 
 brimstone rained on the cities of the plain, and
 
 2 50 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the escape of Lot, and to conceive herself to be 
 a female Lot. Zita furnished herself with what 
 she required, and set vigorously to work, com- 
 menting as she went on upon the bruises and 
 scratches in the varnish and paint, which the 
 sides of the van had received from the boots of 
 those who invaded it that evening. 
 
 She was engaged on the roof of the van, 
 when, all at once, her thoughts took a different 
 direction, and, kneeling upright, scrubbing-brush 
 in one hand and a piece of soap in the other, 
 she- exclaimed — 
 
 ' That was impudence, if you please ! to tell 
 me he did not approve of Pip going after 
 Kainie, and that he will do his utmost to 
 make her happy ! Does he think he can have 
 us both? That may be fen ways, it isn't 
 caravan morals. Hark ! — what is that ? ' 
 
 She could hear the alarm bell of Ely Minster 
 pealing. 
 
 'There was a song of father's that I mind,' 
 said Zita, still kneeling upright, ' and if Mark 
 had only been brought up in a van instead of 
 desultory-like on the Fens, he'd have learned 
 the things he ought to do, and the things he 
 ought to leave alone, taught him by songs and 
 other ways.' She sang — 
 
 * Young men, be advised, if love gets in your sconce, 
 Don't ever go courting two maidens at once ; 
 With one you may work along safely and sound, 
 'Twixt two stools you're certain to come to the ground.
 
 A NEW DANGEk 251 
 
 A lurid glare was in the sky over Ely, and 
 the bell continued to peal its note of distress. 
 
 The thoughts of Zita reverted to the threat of 
 Drownlands. He had said he would bring Mark 
 to the gallows, or, at all events, send him into 
 transportation. 
 
 This had seemed to her at the time an idle 
 threat, as the empty explosion of anger, that 
 could do no harm, whilst it relieved the master's 
 chafed feelings. But as she turned the matter 
 over in her head, it appeared to her no longer 
 as trifling a concern as she had at first supposed 
 it to be. 
 
 Mark had entered the house, and had induced 
 the master to part with his money to save his 
 ricks from being burnt down, and his house from 
 being broken into. This fact was capable of 
 two interpretations. Mark's purpose had been 
 obvious enough to her ; but it was quite possible 
 for his action to be misrepresented as one of 
 sympathy with the rioters, and his interposi- 
 tion as being due to his having been appointed 
 by them to act in their behalf. 
 
 Zita was now able to comprehend the pur- 
 port of Drownlands calling up the servants to 
 look at Mark, and to witness the payment of 
 the money. And at the same time she realised 
 the force of his words when he said that he had 
 paid the money to be rid of Mark. She could 
 penetrate to the inner chambers of Drownlands' 
 heart, and read there his thoughts and intentions.
 
 252 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 If Mark were removed, it was likely that Zita 
 would prove more pliable. She would feel her 
 loneliness, her isolation, and be driven to accept 
 him as her protector. Zita was very angiy 
 when these ideas rose in her mind. She 
 thought it incumbent on her to seek Runham 
 and warn him to be on his guard, especially to 
 avoid having any more connection with the 
 rioters. Drownlands had gone in the wake of 
 the mob ; so, possibly, had Mark, out of curi- 
 osity — out of a wish to intervene, as he had 
 intervened at Prickwillow. 
 
 Zita put down the pail, and, instead of re- 
 turning to the house, walked down the road that 
 led from the farm into the main drove by the 
 side of the Lark embankment.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 'I don't care that!' 
 
 ZITA was now seriously alarmed. She knew 
 that Drownlands was one who was with- 
 out scruple in carrying out the ends at which he 
 aimed. 
 
 He had not let drop these ominous words at 
 random. He hated Mark with deadly ani- 
 mosity, and Zita knew very well the reason. 
 He loved her, and considered that Mark stood 
 in his way. He hoped, she did not question, 
 that by removing Mark there would remain no 
 other serious obstacle in the way of his suit. 
 Drownlands would not have recourse to violence. 
 The remembrance of what he had done to the 
 young man's father precluded that; but he 
 would not hesitate to adopt any other means 
 that promised to relieve him of his rival. 
 
 Zita had formed no plan as to what she would 
 do. She walked in the direction of Ely, on the 
 chance of catching Mark up, or of finding some 
 one who could inform her whether he had 
 
 253
 
 254 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 returned home to Crumbland, or had gone on 
 after the army of the discontented. She had 
 not walked a quarter of a mile before she saw 
 two figures standing on the embankment against 
 the illumined sky. 
 
 Zita was below, in the drove, and in shadow. 
 The roadway that had been snowy was now 
 trampled black, and a person walking or stand- 
 ing on it would be invisible to those on the 
 bank, whereas the latter were in full view to such 
 as were on the drove, and their every movement 
 was made distinct by the reflection in the sky of 
 the fires kindled by the rioters in Ely. 
 
 Zita hardly, if at all, considered this. She did 
 not at first know who these persons were who 
 were pencilled against the red light behind them. 
 She had no reason for remaining concealed, but 
 she walked on a dark surface, and was therefore 
 invisible, and trod in springy peat, so that her 
 step was inaudible. 
 
 Before she could distinguish by their faces 
 who the two were upon the embankment, she 
 had discovered their personalities by their voices. 
 One was Mark Runham and the other was 
 Kainie. 
 
 Stung by jealousy, and instinctively, Zita 
 stood still. She heard Kainie say, ' I wish you 
 would go after him, Mark.' 
 
 Then she heard Runham answer, ' I cannot, 
 and I will not. I picked him out of the dyke, 
 streaming with fen-water — out of the dyke into
 
 •I DON'T CARE THAT!' 255 
 
 which his own comrades had flung him — and in 
 spite of all this he follows them. Such a fellow 
 as that is past helping. No one but Pip, after 
 being head, would consent to draggle at the end 
 of the body as its tail. What is more, Kainie, I 
 do not like your interesting yourself in him. 
 He is not for you. He has too many maggots 
 in his brain. There is no place will suit him. 
 Wherever he goes he will be in opposition. 
 Kainie, do you know the old country-dance 
 tune of "The Clean Contrary Way"? Well, 
 that is the only strain to which Pip will caper.' 
 
 ' Poor Pip ! He is not a bad fellow at heart' 
 
 ' Maybe ; but he is terribly perverse. Possibly 
 he would be satisfied if he were translated to 
 what they call the Antipodes, for there his head 
 would be pointing where our feet run, and his 
 toes would be aiming in the direction of our 
 heads. Once for all, I am not going into Ely 
 after Pip. It is of no use, and my mother is in 
 alarm. I must return to appease her fears. 
 Now, Kainie, a word to you about yourself.' 
 
 ' What about me ? ' 
 
 'Why, this: How long do you intend to 
 remain at Red W^ings ? ' 
 
 ' As long as I must. I suppose my uncle 
 Drownlands will do nothing for me.' 
 
 ' But I will. You can have any money you 
 want from me.' 
 
 ' I do not require it. I am happy at the mill. 
 I shall not leave it yet a while. I certainly
 
 2s6 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 expect nothing from Uncle Ki. He never casts 
 me even a good-day. It is hard for me to suffer 
 because he quarrelled with my mother. I do 
 not suppose I shall ever be the better for my 
 relationship to him. Folks say he is going to 
 marry the Cheap Jack girl.' 
 
 Zita heard Mark's laugh, and then his answer. 
 ' She will never take him.' 
 
 ' Why not ? ' 
 
 ' He is too old for her.' 
 
 * That will not trouble her much/ answered 
 Kainie ; * she calculates the value of everything, 
 and holds a thing to be worth just what money 
 it will bring in. I believe she has no thoughts, 
 no care for anything but money. She knows 
 that Uncle Ki has got land and stock, has a 
 good house and a balance at the bank ; she will 
 say "There's profits," and take him — snap at 
 him eagerly.' 
 
 ' I do not believe you,' said Mark, and laughed. 
 * But about yourself, not Zita. My mother still 
 objects to my bringing you home to Crumbland 
 and acknowledging you. I do not feel comfort- 
 able and happy to be in a good house, and to 
 have you in that hovel at that mill.' 
 
 ' I cannot go to you so long as your mother is 
 opposed.' 
 
 ' Perhaps not ; but, after all, Kainie, she cannot 
 hold out against you for ever. She loves me 
 too sincerely. She has too right a mind. She 
 will see how it frets me ; and then — when all is
 
 'I DONT CARE THAT!' 257 
 
 said and done — I am master of Crumbland, and 
 not she. If I be driven to assert my will, she 
 will submit. She is certain to like, to love you, 
 when she comes to know you. It is but for a 
 little while waiting. I do not wish to have re- 
 course to strong measures if delay will make all go 
 smooth of itself You understand that, Kainie ? ' 
 
 * I will wait. I am content at the mill. But 
 — oh, Mark ! I must tell you a joke. That 
 Cheap Jack girl was at Red Wings the other 
 day, and she wanted to buy you of me — actually 
 purchase you.' 
 
 ' At what price was I estimated ? ' 
 
 'At a ream of black-edged notepaper and 
 envelopes to match.' 
 
 Mark burst into laughter. 
 
 ' That is not all,' continued Kainie. ' When I 
 did not prove eager for the paper, she made 
 another bid.' 
 
 ' And that— ?' 
 
 ' Was a garden syringe to kill green-fly with 
 soapy water.' 
 
 Zita heard both laugh merrily. 
 
 * I have not done yet,' continued Kainie. 
 * She finally produced her most splendid offer.' 
 
 ' And that was— ? ' 
 
 ' It was one that almost made me surrender you, 
 Mark. A box of all kinds of scents. And she 
 said ' — Kainie could hardly speak for laughing 
 — ' I should smell of Jockey Club in chapel — 
 tremenjous — that's her word — tremenjous ! * 
 17
 
 258 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Zita's anger was flaming hot, waves of boiling 
 blood swept through her veins, swept before her 
 eyes and blinded her. 
 
 Gasping for breath, she rushed up the bank, 
 and, reaching them, struck Kainie on the cheek 
 with her open palm before she or Mark knew 
 she was there. 
 
 ' It is a shame ! ' exclaimed Zita, sobbing with 
 emotion. ' It is mean to tell of me — to make 
 sport of me ! ' 
 
 Then, turning on Mark, she said, 'And I will 
 tell you what is preparing for you — you who 
 laugh and jeer at the ignorant, silly Cheap Jack 
 girl. It is the gallows or Botany Bay. And ' — 
 she snapped her fingers in his face — * if you hang 
 or are transported, I don't care that ! '
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 A NIGHT IN ELY 
 
 THE Isle of Ely, with the city in its midst, 
 and the cathedral in the midst of the 
 city, is more ecclesiastical than Rome itself. 
 Until comparatively recent times the Bishop 
 was a petty prince therein, exercising powers of 
 life and death. He did not indeed sit in the 
 courts himself, and himself sentence to the 
 block and the gallows, any more than did the 
 Pope himself consign offenders to the flames. 
 The secular power was committed to a * Tem- 
 poral Steward,' who held his office for life, and 
 discharged the functions of High Sheriff, and the 
 Bishop washed his hands of all blood-guiltiness. 
 The courts of justice were, however, held in 
 the Bishop's name, and the gaols were institu- 
 tions under his jurisdiction. The Bishop ap- 
 pointed the municipal authorities and the justices 
 of peace. From the High Sheriff to the town- 
 crier, all derived their authority by commission 
 from the Bishop. 
 
 269
 
 26o CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 As every acre of land in the isle and far away 
 into the fen belonged to either Bishop or Dean 
 and Chapter, there were no county magnates 
 near, and no country gentry at all. Nay, even 
 in the city itself there was no gentry of independ- 
 ent position. In Rome there are princes who 
 have their territories. In Ely there were not 
 even squires. 
 
 Accordingly, the ecclesiastical dignitaries lived 
 very high up in roseate clouds and in an ethereal 
 atmosphere, far above the clay land where 
 grubbed and wriggled the professional men 
 and the shopkeepers. 
 
 Perhaps the fact of being so completely under 
 ecclesiastical government paralysed all initiative 
 in Ely, and rendered the inhabitants helpless in 
 cases of emergency. The citizens were but 
 overgrown babies. The lawyer, the surgeon, the 
 M.D.,the surveyor, the architect, were accustomed 
 to be swaddled and given suck by the Right 
 Reverend Father the Bishop, or the Very Rever- 
 end the Dean, or the Venerable the Archdeacon ; 
 and all the officials, the temporal steward, and 
 the justices, and the chief constable, were wont 
 to go in leading-strings. 
 
 And they were such good babies. They 
 always thought as the reverend fathers thought ; 
 they never cried and kicked ; and the air of the 
 Fens must have been salubrious, for they had all 
 ravenous appetites for the fat of the land, which 
 fell from the ecclesiastical tables. At the time
 
 A NIGHT IN ELY 261 
 
 of our tale, co-operative stores had not been so 
 much as thought of. The Bishop, the Dean, and 
 the canons got their groceries, their drugs, their 
 wines, and their stationery from the Ely trades- 
 men. In return for their custom, these trades- 
 men professed the strictest churchmanship and 
 the staunchest Toryism. 
 
 The system of appointment to offices in Ely 
 was distinctively ecclesiastical. The magistrates 
 were bespectacled and bewigged officials con- 
 nected by marriage with some of the members 
 of the Chapter. The constables were nominated 
 for their general piety, or because they were 
 burdened with large families. The watchmen 
 were pensioned cripples or asthmatic incapables, 
 whose utmost achievement was to crawl about 
 at night and proclaim the hour. Everything in 
 the city was managed for the residents by a 
 benevolent and beneficent ecclesiastical authority, 
 which exhibited its benevolence and beneficence 
 by conferring offices, not on such as showed 
 efficiency, but on such men as were incompetent 
 to earn a livelihood in any profession or busi- 
 ness that demanded the exercise of brain or of 
 muscle. 
 
 When the turbulent crew from Littleport 
 arrived in Ely, and the rumour circulated that 
 other Fen centres were sending their contingents 
 of the disaffected to the capital of the Fens, 
 neither magistrates nor constables were prepared 
 to take prompt action to protect the town and
 
 262 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 stop the spread of disturbance. Orders were 
 indeed issued to have the minster bell rung, to 
 summon all sober, law-abiding citizens to unite 
 for the common defence, but, although the bell 
 pealed its summons, no one obeyed it, for no 
 one knew where the rallying-point was, or what 
 was to be done by those summoned. 
 
 The temporal steward was in bed with a 
 mustard poultice on his chest and a dose of 
 sweet nitre in his stomach. Consequently, when 
 a messenger from the Deanery came to request 
 that he would do something, the wife of the 
 temporal steward was able to point out that he 
 was perspiring freely and the poultice drawing 
 vigorously. To leave his bed and the house 
 was, therefore, out of the question. 
 
 There was no deputy sheriff to fill the place 
 which the sheriff was incapacitated from filling. 
 The vacancy had not been filled up, because the 
 Bishop was hesitating, balancing the claims of 
 one who was stone-blind against one who was 
 stone-deaf. The prelate himself was absent on 
 a confirmation tour, and he had taken his 
 chaplains with him, and, what was more to the 
 point, his butler — a man who did most of the 
 thinking in sublunary matters for his master. 
 The constables then in Ely were few. The chief 
 constable, Mr. Edwards, was the manager of 
 Mortlock's bank, and in the interests of the bank 
 he had come to the resolution to keep in the 
 background so as in no way to excite the angry
 
 A NIGHT IN ELY 263 
 
 passions of the mob. Another constable had 
 swallowed a fish-bone, and this was being ex- 
 tracted by a fellow constable. A fourth was at 
 the moment incapacitated for work by one of 
 his constitutional and chronic fits of the hiccups. 
 It was precisely because he suffered from this 
 affliction that the benevolent and beneficent 
 ecclesiastical authority had nominated him to, 
 and invested him with, the office of constable. 
 
 As the combined municipal and collegiate 
 forces of watchmen were unprepared or unable 
 to cope with the approaching masses of men, 
 the Dean sent off his coachman on a carriage 
 horse to Bury St. Edmund's, to invoke the aid 
 of the military stationed there. The mob from 
 Littleport entered the town, as already said, 
 preceded by the waggon, in which were placed 
 heavy wash guns loaded with slugs. To an- 
 nounce its arrival a volley was fired, and the 
 slu^s rattled on the tiles and broke a few 
 windows. 
 
 No sooner had the Littleport body entered 
 Ely, than it learned to its disappointment that 
 nothing had been heard of the Isleham and 
 Swaffham contingents. 
 
 In fact, discouragement had dissolved these at 
 the onset. The small landowner, Cutman, who 
 had undertaken to lead the detachment from 
 Isleham, had reconsidered the matter, and 
 resolved that heading a riot could do him no 
 possible good, and might do him very consider-
 
 264 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 able harm. The men assembled at the Duck at 
 the appointed hour, waited, and, as he did not 
 appear, became uneasy, supposing that he had 
 been alarmed ; they also reconsidered the matter, 
 and, coming to much the same conclusion as 
 Cutman, dispersed quietly to their several 
 homes. 
 
 The Swaffham men were also defaulters. 
 The tidings of what was meditated had been 
 communicated to a large farmer there, and when 
 the rabble approached, he met them dauntlessly, 
 along with his stalwart sons and some trusty 
 serving -men, all armed with blunderbusses. 
 He addressed the mob, and, by his bold front 
 and resolute bearing, not only prevented them 
 from attacking his house, but persuaded them to 
 break up and abandon their undertaking. 
 
 The Littleport body, swelled by stragglers, 
 and also by men who had lived in the suburbs 
 of Ely, formed a considerable host, and had they 
 been under efficient discipline, and had they 
 known exactly what demands to make, and how 
 to enforce their demands, might have produced 
 serious results. 
 
 As it was, they did a certain amount of 
 mischief, and took a certain amount of loot, but 
 all in an aimless manner ; and in looting or 
 wrecking forgot the ostensible reasons for their 
 assembly and purpose of marching upon Ely. 
 
 No sooner were they in the town than the 
 mob resolved itself, without order given, into
 
 A NIGHT IN ELY 265 
 
 two detachments, whereof one attacked the 
 flour-mills, and the other broke into the 
 victuallers' shops to seize on their stores of 
 ham, bacon, and sausages. 
 
 There was a large soak-mill in the lower part 
 of the town, managed by a man named Rick- 
 wood. This was the first assailed. 
 
 By this time the magistrates, at the advice 
 and exhortation of their wives, had plucked up 
 suflRcient courage to venture to parley with the 
 rioters. There were but three or four of these 
 in the place ; one was a retired steward who 
 was almost stone - deaf, the other two were 
 clergymen. These magistrates inquired of the 
 fen-men what were their demands, and were 
 answered with confused cries for higher wages, 
 cheaper bread, and for money to be scattered 
 among them. 
 
 Terrified by the shouts and the menacing 
 attitude of the mob, they entered into negotia- 
 tions with them, and offered to raise a certain 
 sum of money from the inhabitants to satisfy 
 their illegal demands. But the rioters could not 
 agree as to the price at which they would desist 
 from violence, nor could they wait with patience 
 till the magistrates had collected the sum offered. 
 
 Accordingly, the conference was broken up, 
 and the mob proceeded to smash Rickwood's 
 windows and to beat open his doors. 
 
 The miller was not, as it chanced, at home 
 himself, and his wife entered into parley with
 
 266 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the rabble from a window. They demanded 
 fifty pounds, and threatened, unless it were paid, 
 to proceed to set fire to the mill, and the miller's 
 habitation adjoining, 
 
 Mrs. Rickwood, in terror, pfomised the sum, 
 but said that she had not so much coin in the 
 house. She would send her son for the money 
 to the bank. 
 
 ' No ! no ! Come yourself! ' shouted the men, 
 and proceeded to demolish the windows. 
 
 Accordingly, Mrs. Rickwood descended, and 
 in deadly fear issued forth into the street, after 
 having committed the mill to the care of her 
 son. 
 
 The banker was also, as already said, chief 
 constable, and in the interest of Messrs. Mort- 
 lock was remaining at home, and sitting in his 
 back parlour. 
 
 When the mob reached his house, which was 
 one with the bank, loud cries were raised for 
 him, and Mrs. Rickwood knocked at the front 
 door. After long waiting, he appeared in the 
 doorway, as white as chalk. Mrs. Rickwood 
 then entreated him to furnish her with fifty 
 sovereigns in gold, in order that she might 
 purchase immunity for her mill from the in- 
 surgent peasantry. 
 
 'Nothing in the world will induce me to do 
 this ! ' exclaimed the chief constable heroically. 
 Whereupon a stone was thrown at him, and 
 struck his head, so that a little blood flowed.
 
 A NIGHT IN ELY 267 
 
 ' That is to say,' said Edwards, ' nothing save 
 compulsion ;' and he hastened within to find the 
 money. 
 
 The second body of rioters in the meantime 
 was engaged in sacking the grocery-shops and 
 provision-stores. One of the magistrates, the 
 Rev. Mr. Metcalf, endeavoured to cahn the mob 
 by an assurance that he would induce the 
 owners of the shops to purchase their immunity. 
 But he was successful in two instances only. 
 In some the rabble took the money, and, not- 
 withstanding, plundered the shops. Then a 
 second mill was attacked, but, on ten pounds 
 being produced, no further violence was done 
 to it. 
 
 The night was dark. The rioters went round 
 requisitioning faggots and coals, and soon an 
 immense bonfire was kindled before the cathedral 
 west front, and a second in face of St. Mary's 
 church. The first lighted up the splendid pile, 
 bringing out every detail of sculpture, and 
 twinkling in the glass that filled the Norman 
 windows. 
 
 Round this fire the young men and girls 
 danced. Some of the men had carried pro- 
 visions to the Galilee, and prepared for a 
 carouse. The taverns had been attacked very 
 early, and the publicans had been constrained to 
 allow the rioters free use of their liquor. 
 
 As Mark had assured Kerenhappuch, Ephraim 
 Beamish had pushed his way after the rabble,
 
 268 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 undeterred by the treatment he had received at 
 its hands, his enthusiasm unquenched by his 
 plunge in the icy water. As there was no 
 organisation in the mob, he was suffered to 
 rejoin it with an occasional protest only, but 
 Chevell, Harley, and Tansley would not allow 
 him to remount the waggon. 
 
 No sooner did Beamish find that a great body 
 of the insurgents were setting themselves to eat, 
 drink, and revel about the great fire in front of the 
 cathedral, than he got a chair, and endeavoured 
 to harangue them, to point out to them that 
 they were throwing away their occasion, neglect- 
 ing to enforce their grievances on the employers 
 of labour, and that they were making enemies 
 among all the well-disposed by their capricious 
 and lawless proceedings. But directly his face 
 was discerned by the flicker of the fire, and his 
 voice recognised, beaten back by the cathedral 
 walls, than shouts were raised of, 'That's the 
 fellow who stole the Cheap Jack girl's money. 
 We want no preaching here.' 
 
 His chair was tripped up, and he was sent 
 sprawling in the dirt. 
 
 He rose angry and disconcerted. The move- 
 ment of which he was the instigator, and of 
 which he had been appointed director by vote 
 of the men, had rejected his direction, and was 
 taking its own suicidal course. 
 
 The fens immediately surrounding the isle on 
 which Ely stood were farmed by men whose
 
 A NIGHT IN ELY 269 
 
 homesteads were on the gault excrescence that 
 formed the isle. According to the preconcerted 
 scheme, the Union of Fen Labourers was to pro- 
 ceed to these farmsteads one by one, to exact 
 of the farmers a contribution to the cause, and 
 an oath to raise the wage. 
 
 It was true enough that two or three farms had 
 been visited which lay to right and left of the 
 road from Littleport to Ely, but no sooner had 
 the men reached the Fen capital, than they 
 forgot their purpose, directed their attention to 
 the provision-shops, waylaid and blackmailed 
 passengers, broke into the taverns, and thought 
 only of eating, drinking, and making money. 
 They entirely neglected the scheme that had 
 been agreed to. Not a single farm in the isle 
 was molested, not a single farmer coerced.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 SIR BATES DUDLEY'S RIDE 
 
 AFTER a night of revelry, the winter morning 
 broke on men lying tipsy or asleep about 
 the smouldering embers of their fire, against the 
 walls of houses, or crowded on the benches and 
 on the stone floor of the Galilee. Every tavern 
 was packed, and many private houses as well. 
 The rioters had demanded admission, and had 
 threatened violence if opposed. Doors had ac- 
 cordingly been opened to them, and they had 
 received reluctant admission. 
 
 On the whole, little serious mischief had been 
 done. A few shops had been invaded, a few 
 well-to-do persons blackmailed, some windows 
 broken, all the ale and spirits in the public- 
 houses drunk out, and all the hams in the 
 licensed victuallers' consumed ; but with the sole 
 exception of the cutting open of the head of the 
 chief constable, no personal violence had been 
 done to any one. 
 
 The demonstration had been absolutely re- 
 
 I7Q
 
 SIR BATES DUDLEY'S RIDE 271 
 
 sultless, so far as concerned the purpose for 
 which it had been organised. The only fruit 
 that would come of it would be that the bakers, 
 millers, and provision-dealers would raise their 
 prices, so as to recoup themselves for what they 
 had lost, and that certain of the rioters would 
 suffer penalties out of all proportion to the 
 injury done. 
 
 Some consciousness that a mistake had been 
 made stole over the dull brains of the men as 
 they awoke, chilled and headachy, on the morn- 
 ing after the entry into Ely. Those men who 
 had promoted the movement, but had not been 
 suffered to direct it, were certainly alive to the 
 fact that a great blunder had been made, and 
 that their safety was at stake. And when the 
 rumour spread that the dragoons from Bury 
 were about to arrive, the pot-valiant fen-men 
 rapidly dispersed. 
 
 Droves and roads radiating from Ely were 
 thronged with fugitives, flying at their utmost 
 speed towards their homes, and none speeding 
 more rapidly than those men who were guardians 
 of the money collected from the farmers and 
 shopmen and millers for the cause, and who 
 sought not only to secure their persons, but 
 also the money they carried with them, for 
 their own advantage. The sum collected might 
 enable them to escape from the neighbourhood, 
 and it would form a comfortable little capital on 
 which to start business where they were unknown.
 
 2^2 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 When, about noon, the mihtary arrived, the 
 streets of Ely were almost as silent and un- 
 occupied as on any day in the week save 
 market day. 
 
 They were met by the magistrates, preceded 
 by Sir Bates Dudley, Bart, an old canon of 
 Ely ; the chief constable showed with his head 
 bandaged, and the high sheriff looked approval 
 from his bedroom window, in nightcap and 
 dressing-gown. 
 
 Orders were issued for the pursuit of the 
 rioters to Littleport, their headquarters. As it 
 was necessary that a magistrate should accom- 
 pany them. Sir Bates Dudley was lifted into 
 a saddle. He was a small, very globular man, 
 with a red face and a wig of sandy hair. 
 
 ' You won't go very fast with me ? ' inquired 
 the baronet of the officer in charge. ' Be — be — 
 cause, though I was a horseman oo — oo — once, 
 I haven't ridden these forty years,' 
 
 Then, turning to his footman, he said, ' Tut — 
 Tut — Thomas, you'll please to run at my s — 
 s — ide, and hold my leg, lest I tut — tut — tumble 
 off. If you see me getting at all out of the 
 per — per — per — pendicular, just run round 
 and give a pull to the other leg.' 
 
 Presently Sir Bates Dudley addressed Drown- 
 lands, who was standing near him, holding his 
 own horse. 
 
 •You will cue — come too — zo important a 
 witness ; and you will indicate who are the
 
 SIR BATES DUDLEY'S RIDE 273 
 
 persons to be arrested, and who are na — 
 na — named in the warrants I signed. You 
 will oblige me if you will ri — ride at my side, 
 and as Tut — Tut — Thomas is negligent, and 
 his at — at — tention may be distracted, and he 
 may forget his doo — doo — dooty to me, if you 
 see me at all out of the per — per — perpen- 
 dicular, just give a thrust, will you, with your 
 riding- whip, and set me up — pup — right again. 
 I haven't ridden for forty years. I hope the 
 saddle won't ga — ga — gall the horse.' 
 
 * I'll keep at your side, sir,' said Drownlands. 
 
 ' That wo — wo — won't be quite enough,' said 
 the baronet. * If you wouldn't mind keeping an 
 eye on my left leg, and if you see it go — go — 
 going up the side of the saddle, just tut — trot 
 round the ba — ba — back and give me a thrust 
 with the end of your whip, and set me per — 
 per — perpendicular again. I can't trust Tut — 
 Tut — Thomas entirely.' 
 
 ' I'll do what I can for you, sir,' said Drown- 
 lands. 
 
 Then Sir Bates turned to his man Thomas 
 and said — 
 
 ' Ki — ki — keep an even habit of mind, Tut — 
 Thomas, and don't let your thoughts ramble to 
 Mary. Don't pup — pup — pull my right leg too 
 hard, nor let it go too lax.' 
 
 Then, addressing Drownlands — 
 
 ' I am shush — shush — sure the Government and 
 all law-abiding citizens owe a debt of gratitude 
 18
 
 2 74 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 to you, Mr. Dud — Dud — Drownlands.' The 
 baronet gasped at the name, opening his mouth 
 and jerking his face forward, as though en- 
 deavouring to catch a bluebottle and swallow it. 
 * I con — con — congratulate you on your activity, 
 observation, and spirit. You will be the primary 
 means of convicting the ri — ri — rioters.' 
 
 The canon rode along, balancing himself un- 
 certainly in his saddle. The dragoons trotted 
 after. 
 
 When, however, the clay land of the Isle of 
 Ely was left, trotting was out of the question. 
 The horses made their way painfully through 
 the slough, and military order was not to be 
 maintained. 
 
 Sir Bates's horse tossed his head, and en- 
 deavoured to keep up a trot. There is pride in 
 brutes as well as in men, and the baronet's steed 
 was elate at the idea of preceding the splendid 
 dragoon chargers, so well groomed, so gorgeously 
 accoutred, and bearing such radiant beings on 
 their backs. Let the fen cart-horses see that 
 he, Sir Bates Dudley's cob, took precedence of, 
 was on gracious terms with, these war chargers. 
 Every now and then, when a horse was visible 
 in a stubble field, he neighed to him a challenge 
 to observe who went by and in what company. 
 
 ' I don't quite like this mo — mo — motion,' 
 gasped the canon, who was bouncing like a pea 
 on a drum. * I am afraid the saddle will terribly 
 ga — ga — gall my horse's back.'
 
 SIR BATES DUDLEY'S RIDE 275 
 
 At that moment Drovvniands uttered an ex- 
 clamation, and, turning to the colonel of the 
 dragoons, cried, as he pointed with his whip at 
 a figure in a field separated from the drove by a 
 lane of water — 
 
 * There is Ephraim Beamish, a ringleader. 
 A warrant against him is signed. He has the 
 audacity to look on as though this did not 
 concern him.' 
 
 The colonel gave orders to two of his soldiers 
 to ride in pursuit. The men detailed for the 
 purpose at once leaped their horses across the 
 dyke. The road bank was sufficiently firm to 
 enable the beasts to spring. 
 
 Then they started in pursuit. 
 
 ' Shoot ! Shoot ! ' cried Drownlands. ' You 
 will never take a prisoner like that.' 
 
 The dragoons were careering over the field, 
 one of fifteen to twenty acres, but it was hard 
 work for the horses, so spongy was the soil ; and 
 Pip Beamish ran before them without greatly 
 exerting himself 
 
 The dragoons on the drove, at the command 
 of the colonel, drew up in line, and watched the 
 chase. 
 
 ' They will never catch him,' repeated Drown- 
 lands ; * they never can. Give orders that he be 
 shot.' 
 
 * I cannot do that,' said the officer in command 
 'They will outstrip and head him shortly.' 
 
 ' They never will. You do not know the Fens,
 
 276 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 In another moment Beamish was seen to 
 plant a long pole he was carrying, swing himself 
 aloft easily and gracefully, and fall lightly on 
 his feet on the farther side of the dyke limiting 
 the field. 
 
 One of the dragoon's horses floundered and 
 rolled over in the soft soil, but the other was 
 close behind Beamish. It rose, and in a moment 
 vanished along with its rider in the dyke. The 
 hind feet had found nothing substantial on 
 which to obtain the necessary purchase for a 
 leap across the water, and the beast and rider 
 had fallen into the stagnant, slimy liquid that 
 filled the ditch. 
 
 In spite of discipline, oaths and curses broke 
 from the dragoons who were looking on. 
 
 * I knew it,' said Drownlands. ' Why did you 
 not shoot? If that horse hasn't broke his back 
 it is a lucky job. Now Pip Beamish is beyond 
 reach, beyond gunshot, and it will take a day to 
 get the horse dug out' 
 
 * What do you mean ? ' asked the colonel 
 angrily. 
 
 ' Mean ? Why, that no horse that falls into a 
 dyke can get himself out, or be got out save by 
 spade-work. There he must remain ; every 
 struggle makes him sink deeper. There is no 
 bottom to the dykes till you reach the clay, and 
 for that you must go down twenty feet. He 
 will never do it again, if that is any consolation 
 to you. But ten to one his back is broke, and
 
 SIR BATES DUDLEY'S RIDE 277 
 
 you may as well send a bullet through his 
 head.' 
 
 'Here,' shouted the colonel, 'dismount and go 
 help Standish out' He beckoned to three men. 
 
 * Help him out ? ' mocked Drownlands. * They 
 can't do it. They must have workmen that 
 understand the business. They must have the 
 proper tools. You don't happen to have brought 
 any " beckets " with you, I suppose ? ' 
 
 The man who had been precipitated into the 
 water, was now seen on the bank. He had 
 scrambled out by means of the reeds that grew 
 rankly in the ooze. He was stamping, his 
 splendid accoutrements were tarnished, and the 
 foul fen-water was streaming from him. Hold- 
 ing the reins, by coaxing words he endeavoured 
 to encourage his horse to struggle out of the 
 water. The poor brute made efforts to escape, 
 churning up the sludgy mud and peat in the 
 dyke, but was incapable of doing anything to 
 extricate himself. The more he struggled the 
 deeper he sank. 
 
 When the situation was thoroughly realised — 
 and the colonel would not for some time believe 
 the assertion of Drownlands that the horse 
 could be extricated by no other means than 
 the formation of an incline by spade labour — 
 then he consented grudgingly to negotiate with 
 some loafers who had followed the troop, and 
 by promises of liberal payment to engage them 
 to undertake the rescue of the charger.
 
 278 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 When this was settled, — and it took some 
 time to settle, — the body of soldiers advanced 
 towards Littleport. Tidings had come that 
 the rioters were making a rally there, and in- 
 tended to contest the way with the military. 
 That they were armed was known, as also that 
 the fowlers of the Fens were crack shots. If 
 they held to their resolution, Littleport would 
 not be occupied without effusion of blood. 
 
 It was indeed true that a rally had been 
 made at Littleport. The men living there, 
 fearing that they would be arrested for the 
 part they had taken in the disturbance, spoke 
 of defending themselves — better die with guns 
 in their hands, they said, than swing on the 
 scaffold. But now, as before, there was neither 
 discipline nor cohesion among the men. The 
 colonel knew that they had no leaders, and did 
 not greatly concern himself at the menace. He 
 was impatient to reach Littleport, not lest the 
 rioters should gather force, but to get finished 
 with an unpleasant and inglorious affair. More- 
 over, at Littleport most of the arrests would 
 have to be made, and it was as well to reach 
 it as speedily as possible, before every rioter 
 had hidden under a bed, or in a rabbit-hole. 
 
 In the meantime, a considerable number of 
 persons assembled on the drove, partly to stare 
 at the unprecedented sight of the glittering 
 military parade, but partly also as a means of 
 exhibiting their own peaceful demeanour, and
 
 SIR BATES DUDLEY'S RIDE 279 
 
 showing that they had no sympathy with the 
 disturbers of tranquiUity. As it happened, some 
 of the men who had been instigators to violence 
 thought this a happy way of throwing a veil 
 over their past proceedings. By putting on a 
 look of sheep-like innocence, and thrusting them- 
 selves forward, they hoped to escape. But they 
 had miscalculated. They might have escaped, 
 but for the presence of Drownlands, who had 
 followed the mob, watched its proceedings, 
 had taken note of everything done, and of 
 the doers, and had denounced some forty men 
 to the magistrates, and was now accompanying 
 the military and Sir Bates Dudley, to point 
 out those of whom it was advisable to make an 
 example, and who were already down on his 
 ' information,' and against whom warrants had 
 been issued. 
 
 * I think,' said Sir Bates, * that if I am not 
 absolutely nee — cess — cessary, I would rather 
 return to Ely. The saddle somehow does not 
 fit the horse.* 
 
 * We must have a magistrate with us,' said the 
 officer in command of the dragoons. 
 
 The canon looked piteously about him, drew 
 out a silk pocket-handkerchief, and wiped his 
 brow. 
 
 ' It is of the horse I am thinking. A gall is 
 so painful, so very pup — pup — painful to the 
 horse. I will do my dud — dud — duty, however 
 painful it may be to the horse.'
 
 28o CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 The soldiery trotted on to Littleport. There 
 the rioters had overthrown a waggon across the 
 road, and by means of bundles of straw had 
 composed a rude barricade. The resistance 
 offered by them was feeble and half-hearted. 
 The sight of the dragoons overawed the men, 
 and several, after firing from behind the bundles, 
 slunk away. 
 
 The soldiers speedily passed the barricade 
 and dashed among the men who remained. A 
 shot from behind a garden paling broke a 
 dragoon's arm, another brought down one of 
 the chargers. This encouraged the men for a 
 moment, and they sprang at the heads of the 
 horses, whilst others assailed the riders with 
 pitchforks. There ensued a brief hand-to-hand 
 scuffle. But when one of the rioters was shot 
 through the head, and the men saw that the 
 soldiers were determined no longer to trifle 
 with them, they fled in all directions. 
 
 Numerous arrests were made, and then the 
 dragoons returned towards Ely, Sir Bates jog- 
 ging before them, and their captives well 
 guarded in their midst.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 TWO PLEADERS 
 
 THE tidings that the dragoons were on 
 their way to Littleport had hardly- 
 spread sufficiently in the forenoon to draw 
 together great quantities of spectators, but after 
 they had gone by it was otherwise. The news 
 flew like wildfire over the Fens, and the in- 
 habitants of the district came in troops and 
 lined the road, so that they might have the 
 satisfaction of seeing the military, and taking 
 account of the number of prisoners they had 
 taken. 
 
 The fen-folk are all more or less closely 
 connected by marriage, forming a people to 
 themselves, separate in interests, customs, and 
 character from those who live on the high 
 grounds. They have been wont for generations 
 to seek their mates among themselves, with the 
 result that a close family connection binds 
 the whole population together. The number 
 pf cases in the Fens in which a woman, on 
 
 881
 
 282 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 marriage, retains her maiden name is quite un- 
 equalled elsewhere. Whoever might be taken 
 up by the military was certain to be akin to 
 some of the lookers-on, and therefore the spec- 
 tacle anticipated on the return of the dragoons 
 was calculated to engage their interest and ex- 
 cite their sympathies. 
 
 Among the yeomen there is intermarriage 
 with cousins for the sake of adding acre to 
 acre and barn to barn, but among the labouring 
 population no such inducement prevails. They 
 choose their wives from among their blood 
 relatives, because the idea never crosses their 
 minds to go elsewhere to find mates. They 
 must marry cousins or not marry at all, and 
 the question resolves itself in one of degrees of 
 consanguinity. 
 
 As nearly, if not all, the wealthy landowners 
 are grandsons or great-grandsons of half-wild 
 fen-slodgers, it follows that they are knitted by 
 blood ties to the labourers they employ. This 
 does not necessarily increase good fellowship, 
 nor promote forbearance. The purse - proud 
 yeoman is the harshest master. He draws 
 the line of sympathy at the mark of the class 
 to which he belongs, a class of recent creation. 
 He holds fast to his brother yeoman, and both 
 together grind down their brother labourer. 
 
 This condition of affairs was of course more 
 noticeable formerly than at present. Each 
 generation separates the well - to - do a step
 
 TWO PLEADERS 283 
 
 farther from their poor relations. Our story 
 refers to events and conditions some decades 
 ago. 
 
 On account of the tyranny exercised by the 
 masters, little consideration was felt for them by 
 the men when they broke out in revolt, although 
 allied to them by blood ; and the stacks that 
 had been fired were in several instances set in 
 flames by the blood relatives of the owners of 
 the stacks. 
 
 As the dragoons trotted along the road to- 
 wards Ely, exclamations and lamentations 
 broke out as the men they had taken were 
 recognised by those who lined the highway. 
 
 ' There is Robert Cheesewright ! Oh dear ! 
 what will the old Robert do without him ? ' 
 
 ' Be still. They have not taken Robert. He 
 is going as a witness against Pip Beamish. 
 That's why he is there.' 
 
 'Well, they have handcuffed James Cammel, 
 anyhow, and he was going to marry my Beulah. 
 If they hang him, Beulah will have to take 
 Aaron Layton instead, that's all.' 
 
 ' There is Joseph Lavender. He is my wife's 
 son by her first husband. She will take on 
 dreadful, and I shan't have my shirt properly 
 washed, nor my pasty full baked — that's what 
 it means to me.' 
 
 ' They have taken Flanders Hopkins and 
 Richard Rutter.' 
 
 ' Yes ; and look you there. That's Isaac Har-
 
 284 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ley, as was in the waggon. I wish I had Isaac's 
 gun, I'd shoot the chap that has charge of him. 
 How ever came Isaac to be taken ? ' 
 
 * Ay; and he is cuffed to Joseph Stibbard.' 
 'Stibbard broke into the parson's house at 
 Littleport, and took his silver spoons and 
 money.' 
 
 ' He needed them more than did the parson.' 
 ' Of course he did, and had a right to take 
 them. Joseph Stibbard's sister married my 
 nephew, Philip Easy. I hope he handed on 
 the spoons to her before the soldiers took 
 him.' 
 
 Such were the comments passed. Some of 
 those looking on endeavoured to push between 
 the soldiers, and get at their relatives who 
 were being conveyed to prison, but were re- 
 pelled by their guards. Comments of another 
 sort were expressed less loudly, though not less 
 frankly. 
 
 •There rides Drownlands. He has been 
 along with the dragoons all the day. He has 
 been pointing out whom they are to take ; and 
 if there is hanging to be done, i' fecks ! it is he 
 who has twisted the rope for their necks, poor 
 fellows.' 
 
 ' I knew he was out and about all last night.' 
 'Yes, and has been all this morning with 
 the magistrates. But they haven't taken Pip 
 Beamish yet.' 
 
 ' I am sure they would be put to it for
 
 TWO PLEADERS 285 
 
 witnesses, if it were not for Tiger Ki. Which 
 of us would peach ? Wouldn't we do the other 
 thing, and swear 'em off?' 
 
 'You are right there. I suppose Ki Drown- 
 lands knows what he is doing. But I reckon 
 that this will be remembered against him, and 
 he will be paid out for it some day or other.' 
 
 ' Trust our chaps for that, and the day will 
 not be distant.' 
 
 Drownlands observed the sullen looks, the 
 scowls with which he was greeted, and noticed 
 the whispers that passed as he rode by, but 
 treated all with indifference or contempt. 
 
 * They do not love me. I scoff at them,' said 
 he to Sir Bates Dudley. 'They have done 
 their worst. We are clearing the Fens of the 
 only lads with any spirit in them to do mischief. 
 Those that remain are arrant cowards.' 
 
 Then he turned his horse's head down the 
 drove to Prickwillow. *I am not needed till 
 to-morrow. Here is my home.' 
 
 His eye lighted on Zita, who had come forth 
 to see the soldiers pass with their prisoners. 
 Near her were Mrs. Tunkiss, Sarah, and the 
 farm serving-men. 
 
 Zita uttered an exclamation and ran forward, 
 caught Drownlands' horse by the bridle, and 
 exclaimed — 
 
 * What is the meaning of this ? Why is 
 Mark Runham taken ? This is your doing.' 
 
 * Why not ? He headed the rioters.'
 
 286 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' He did not head them. It is false. You 
 know it is so. Set him at liberty at once.' 
 
 ' I cannot do that. He has been arrested. 
 He will appear before the magistrates to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 'Very well, so will I. I can bear witness as 
 well as you.* 
 
 Then Zita darted nimbly between the 
 soldiers, in spite of their protests, which were 
 not roughly enforced, for the quick eyes of the 
 dragoons saw that she was pretty. She made 
 her way to Mark, who was handcuffed. 
 
 ' Mark,' said she, ' I will help you.' 
 
 ' You ? ' he answered. ' You said it was all 
 one to you whether I were hanged or trans- 
 ported. I am innocent, and will be discharged 
 without your help.' 
 
 ' Back ! ' ordered the dragoon on the right, 
 and Zita was forced to retreat. 
 
 As she did so, she saw Kainie by Drown- 
 lands. The girl had seized his bridle, and was 
 gesticulating with vehemence. 
 
 ' It is your doing,' said Kerenhappuch. 'You 
 hate him. You try to destroy him. You are 
 heaping to yourself wrath against the day of 
 wrath.' 
 
 * Let go my bridle,' ordered Drownlands. 
 
 'You are my uncle,' insisted the girl, her 
 fair hair blown over her face. With one hand 
 she brushed it back, but did not release her 
 hold on the bridle. 'Although you have not
 
 TWO PLEADERS 287 
 
 treated me as of like flesh and blood with your- 
 self, yet you cannot undo it ; I am your niece, 
 and speak to you I will, now.' 
 
 ' Let go, I say. I will hold no communication 
 with you.' He struck his spurs into the side.* 
 of his horse, which reared. But Kainie would 
 not let go. The plunging of the horse made 
 the curb nip and cut Kainie's hand, and some 
 blood came over it. She changed hands on the 
 bridle. 
 
 * Look ! ' said she. * You cannot help it. This 
 is Drownlands blood. It is Drownlands blood 
 appeals to you now.' 
 
 Then Zita laid her hand on the bridle, on the 
 farther side of the beast. 
 
 ' We are two girls,' she said, ' and we will stay 
 you, man though you be. Kainie and I are 
 enemies, we do not love each other, but we unite 
 in beseeching you to do justice to one man.' 
 
 ' Ay,' said the mill-girl. ' Uncle Ki, you are 
 bent on evil, and we will hold you back against 
 plunging farther into the slough.' 
 
 ' Mark never intended to injure you,' said the 
 Cheap Jack girl. * He sought to save your 
 property for you. Why should you work for 
 his destruction ? ' 
 
 'You shall withdraw your charge against him 
 before all the world,' said Kainie. 
 
 'You shall break the shackles off his hands 
 yourself,' said Zita. 
 
 Drownlands dug his spurs wrathfully into
 
 288 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the flanks of the horse, and clenched his teeth 
 and hands. But though the beast was wounded 
 and bounded, his head was held too firmly for 
 him to break away. 
 
 ' Shall I grip your foot till you scream,' 
 exclaimed Zita, 'as I did on the night when I 
 stayed you before ? ' 
 
 'Will you kill Mark, as you killed his father?' 
 asked Kainie. 
 
 Her words were random words. She spoke 
 in the vehemence of her wrath against Drown- 
 lands, and anxiety for Runham. She knew 
 nothing definite against her uncle, but she had 
 heard the whispered gossip of the Fens. 
 
 ' I will have justice on all who have wronged 
 me,' muttered Drownlands. 
 
 ' Take care ! ' exclaimed Kainie, raising the 
 disengaged hand, down which ran a trickle of 
 blood. ' Do not think that because some of the 
 poor lads have been taken, because ten out of 
 one hundred are handcuffed, that every heart 
 that is full of bitterness is beating behind prison 
 walls, and every hand that can be raised against 
 you is fettered. There are ninety pairs for 
 every ten you put in iron cuffs, and they will 
 be clenched in rage and resolve of revenge the 
 day that you send the poor fellows to the 
 gallows.* 
 
 ' I fear them not,' said Drownlands scornfully. 
 
 ' You may not fear, but that is because, like 
 Pharaoh, your heart is hardened and your eyes
 
 TWO PLEADERS 289 
 
 are blinded, and the Lord is driving you to 
 your destruction. I am here to stand between 
 you — I, as your niece — between you and what 
 threatens.' 
 
 ' What threatens ? ' 
 
 * You are threatened.' 
 
 * Who threatens me ? ' 
 
 * Pip Beamish for one.' 
 
 ' Ha ! he will be arrested speedily.' 
 
 ' No, not speedily. He is not taken yet, and 
 till he is taken you are not safe.' 
 
 ' I will see that he be not at large for long. 
 Before this week is out he will be in prison.' 
 
 'That may be a few days too many for 
 you,' 
 
 ' I fear not your Pip Beamish ; your braggarts 
 do nothing.' 
 
 'No, braggarts do nothing; but Pip is no 
 braggart.' 
 
 ' It is my turn now,' said Zita. ' You, Kainie, 
 have tried and have failed. Leave him to me. 
 I can employ reasons that are stronger than 
 yours. Let go your hold of the horse's head. 
 You have said your say. Now I will say mine. 
 But none must hear us.' 
 
 Kainie reluctantly released the bit. Then 
 Zita, still with her hand on the bridle, strode 
 in the direction of Prickwillovv, leading the 
 horse, and some of the people congregated on 
 the drove looked after her and the master, and 
 laughed. 
 19
 
 290 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' He has found his mistress,' said one man, 
 nudging his fellow. 
 
 ' Ay, and is following her lead like a lamb,' 
 replied the man who had been nudged. 
 
 ' Who leads to-day will drive to-morrow,' said 
 a third. 
 
 ' Is he going to marry her?' asked the first. 
 
 The man addressed shrugged his shoulders 
 and said, ' No money. Drownlands is not such 
 a fool as that' 
 
 None of this was heard by Zita, who did not 
 relax her hold, nor turn to look at those who 
 were left in the road. The master suffered her 
 to conduct him towards the house without 
 making remonstrance.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 A DEAL 
 
 WHEN Zita was beyond earshot, she 
 looked over her shoulder, and said to 
 Drownlands, ' I call that mean.' 
 
 She walked on, then halted, changed her 
 hand on the bridle, and, gazing about, said, 
 'You could free yourself of him in no other 
 fashion, so you swear his life away. But you 
 have to reckon with me before it comes to that. 
 I will go into court and swear against you. 
 What I shall swear to will be the truth ; your 
 oath will bind you to lies.' 
 
 ' I refuse to strive with you in words,' retorted 
 Drownlands. * A woman is always victor with 
 such weapons.' 
 
 ' What ? you prefer flails ? — those are your 
 weapons,' exclaimed Zita, clenching her fist and 
 holding her arm extended before her. ' I know 
 well why you are set against Mark Runham. 
 You think that he is something in some way to 
 me, and that I am much to him. It is because 
 
 291
 
 sga CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 of this that you pursue him. It is because of 
 me that you twist the rope round his throat. 
 But you are wrong altogether. I will not say 
 that Mark is nothing to me. He was kind to 
 me once ; kind when my heart was tender, 
 because my father was just buried. But I am 
 nothing to Mark. He mocks at me. He 
 sneers and laughs at the Cheap Jack girl. He 
 does not love me ; and, moreover, he is bound 
 to another.' 
 
 ' Mark bound to another ? Who is that ? ' 
 
 ' Nay, it is his affair, and he has not given me 
 leave to tell his secrets. But you may guess.' 
 
 Drownlands' face testified his surprise. 
 
 ' I cannot guess,' he said, after a long pause. 
 
 'Well,' said Zita, 'father's word was true, that 
 in such matters men are blind. We girls see — 
 and I ought to see, for Mark has not played me 
 fair. He did let me think he fancied me; but 
 I think so no more. He has made me angry 
 with him, and I am angry with him still. But 
 there is a step beyond which I will not go. If 
 I could punish him I would — but not with the 
 rope or Botany Bay. You know that he came 
 into your house in a friendly mind, and with 
 kind intent. You know that he was not in 
 league with that topsy-turvy general public. 
 I shall hate and despise you, as I thought I 
 could hate and despise no man, if you swear 
 falsely against him.' 
 
 ' He has stood between us,' said Drownlands.
 
 A Deal 293 
 
 *He has not done so,' retorted Zita. 'Your 
 own deeds lie between us, not Mark Runham. 
 The events of that night lie between us as a 
 wall of ice reaching up to heaven, that can 
 neither be climbed nor undermined. Listen to 
 me, master. I hate to be mean ; but if you 
 drive me to desperation, if I see no other way 
 to save Mark's life, I will do even that which is 
 mean.' 
 
 ' What is that ? I do not understand.' 
 
 ' I have no wish to do it, I shall hate myself 
 if I do it. You were good to my poor father, 
 and to me. When all was dark and cold about 
 me, you opened to me your house and fireside. 
 You have harboured me, my horse, and the van. 
 I would not speak a word to mortal man of 
 what I know. They might tear the flesh off 
 my bones with fiery pincers, and my mouth 
 would remain shut. I owe you an infinite debt 
 of gratitude, and I would repay it. But there 
 is one thing I cannot do — I cannot suffer you 
 to send Mark to the gallows. Rather than do 
 that, I will speak, and tell the whole truth, and 
 nothing but the truth, about the two flails.' 
 
 Drownlands was silent. His face had 
 changed to a clay colour, and his lips were 
 tightly drawn on his teeth. 
 
 'And if it be any comfort to you to know 
 this,' pursued Zita, as she opened the hand 
 extended before her : ' if you will drop this 
 charge against Mark, retract every word you
 
 ig4 CHEAP JACK ZItA 
 
 have said in his disfavour, I will swear to you 
 to have nothing more to do with Mark all your 
 days upon earth. He shall be to me no other 
 than a stranger. I will stop my ears against 
 him if he should try to speak to me flattering 
 words. I will turn my head away if the fancy 
 takes him to look at me with kindly eyes. 
 There, Ki Drownlands, I have made you an offer 
 now. I threw a menace at you just now.' 
 
 She had stayed the horse. She stood in the 
 midst of the drove, upright, her foot planted 
 before her, her head raised, one arm lifted to 
 the horse's head, the other extended before her 
 with hand outspread. She had nothing on her 
 head save her chestnut hair flying in the cold 
 north wind. Her side-turned face was colour- 
 less and sallow. 
 
 ' Come, Ki Drownlands. When I make an 
 offer, I mean it. When I make a threat, I mean 
 that too. Will you take my offer? It is not 
 Cheap Jack Zita who will go back from her 
 word.' 
 
 ' Be it so, then.' 
 
 ' It is a deal ? ' 
 
 ' Yes — a bargain.' 
 
 * Here is my hand,' said Zita, dropping the 
 bridle. *A deal is a deal.*
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 IN COURT 
 
 A FEW days were allowed to pass to obtain 
 fresh captures. On a keen, frosty morn- 
 ing, those taken by the constable and the 
 military, to the number of nearly forty persons, 
 were brought before the magistrates for the 
 preliminary examination. It had been resolved 
 that a Special Commission should be appointed 
 to try the prisoners on the capital charges of 
 burglary, arson, robbery, and tumultuous assem- 
 bling to the disturbance of the peace, and the 
 commission of acts of violence. The object of 
 the magistrates on the present occasion was 
 to sift the cases, and deal at once with those 
 of a light nature, and remand such as were 
 serious. 
 
 The magistrates were in fcrce at the court- 
 house, and proceedings had begun before Ki 
 Drownlands arrived in a light gig, with Zita at 
 his side. 
 
 On reaching the court, the girl was surprised 
 
 20j
 
 296 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 to see a constable issue from the door, and in 
 loud tones call the name of Ephraim Beamish. 
 
 ' Well,' said she, ' those magistrates must be a 
 set of innocents if they order Pip to be sum- 
 moned in the streets of Ely. Do they suppose 
 he would come here to be caught ? Pip will put 
 his distance between himself and the magistrates, 
 as he did t'other day when the dragoons were 
 on the drove. He did not stay for them then, 
 and he won't come for the calling now.' 
 
 On entering the court Zita looked about her. 
 She was affected with a qualm of nervousness, 
 and her colour was heightened. She had never 
 been in a court of justice before ; but when she 
 discovered that the hall was crowded, she held 
 up her head, breathed freely, and her spirits re- 
 covered their elasticity. 
 
 ' It's my own general public again,' said she ; 
 * I am not afraid any more.' 
 
 'Ephraim Beamish makes no answer to his 
 name,' said the clerk of the court. 
 
 'We will proceed with the case against 
 Ephraim Beamish,' said the chairman ; 'and 
 the Bench hopes that the constables will not 
 be remiss in their duty, nor relax their efforts 
 to obtain possession of his body, and lodge 
 him in prison — that is, should his case be 
 proved.' 
 
 The evidence produced did satisfy the Bench 
 that Beamish should be remitted to the hands 
 of the Special Commission.
 
 IN COURT 297 
 
 Then Mark Runham was called, and at once 
 placed in the dock. 
 
 Zita looked at him. She could see that he 
 was not altogether confident that his innocence 
 would be acknowledged. He strove to disguise 
 his anxiety, but ineffectually. He was be- 
 wildered at the charge laid against him, and 
 troubled at finding himself in a novel and 
 unpleasant situation. 
 
 The depositions having been read over, 
 Hezekiah Drownlands, of Prickwillow, was 
 ordered to stand in the witness-box, for it was 
 he who had lodged information against Mark. 
 
 Zita immediately elbowed her way to the 
 front, and, resting her elbow on the rail that 
 limited the portion of the court accessible to 
 the public, looked steadily into the face of the 
 master. She was resolved to check and correct 
 his statements, so that they should not tell un- 
 favourably against the prisoner, Drownlands 
 noticed her, but refrained from meeting her 
 eye. He gave his evidence with hesitation 
 and confusedly, for he had laid information 
 against Mark Runham, and was now seeking 
 to minimise the charge and weaken the force 
 of his own accusations. 
 
 * I was in my office,' said Drownlands, *on that 
 same evening, and was talking with — with Zita 
 there,' — he pointed with his thumb towards the 
 girl, but without looking at her, — ' when I heard 
 the voices of the rioters.'
 
 298 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' Stay a moment,' said the chairman, inter- 
 posing-. ' Who may this Zita be ? ' 
 
 The chairman was a merry, red-faced man, a 
 gentleman who had been brother to a former 
 Dean, and had obtained from that Dean a lease 
 of a large tract of ecclesiastical property for 
 ninety-nine years at a nominal rent, and who 
 resided and had become wealthy in Ely. 
 
 ' I refer,' said Drownlands, ' to that young 
 woman. She lives in my house.' 
 
 The eyes of the Bench and of the audience 
 were directed towards the girl. 
 
 ' Oh ! ' said the chairman. * Rather young for 
 a housekeeper, eh ? ' 
 
 ' She is not my housekeeper.' 
 
 ' In what capacity, then, may we regard her 
 as residing with you ? ' 
 
 Drownlands hesitated. 
 
 ' Come, come ! Don't be reticent, Mr. Drown- 
 lands.' 
 
 ' I really cannot say.' 
 
 'Shall we say she is a sort of — ahem — 
 companion?' 
 
 A titter ran through the court. 
 
 ' I am a lodger,' said Zita. ' I pay my way.' 
 
 ' Silence ! ' ordered the chief constable. 
 
 ' You shall speak in your turn,' said the chair- 
 man, * and no doubt you will be able to give us 
 valuable evidence, but you must not interrupt, 
 you understand.' Then, turning to the witness, 
 and chuckling and becoming purple with his
 
 IN COURT 299 
 
 suppressed laughter, the chairman said, ' Very 
 well, Mr. Drownlands, go on. We commend your 
 taste. You were talking with your pretty com- 
 panion, or lodger.' 
 
 A laugh ran through the court, in which all 
 joined save the clerical members of the bench, 
 who looked grave and shook their heads. 
 
 Zita coloured, and looked about her angrily. 
 Mark's face was pale, and his eyes were lowered. 
 
 ' I was talking with her in my office,' continued 
 Drownlands, 'when the mob entered my stack- 
 yard with torches, and threatened to burn my 
 ricks and break into my house. Mark Runham 
 was with them.' 
 
 * Did he threaten you ? ' 
 
 * A great many voices were raised. I could 
 not distinguish one from another. There was 
 a waggon, and Aaron Chevell, Harry Tansley, 
 and Isaac Harley were in it, and Tansley held 
 a gun.' 
 
 ' Never mind about Tansley now. I see in 
 your deposition that Mark Runham entered 
 your house. Was it so ? ' 
 
 'Yes. He came to my door and knocked. 
 Then Zita let him in.' 
 
 'But,' interrupted the chairman, 'what you 
 say now, witness, is not in agreement with your 
 information. You deposed that he had feloni- 
 ously entered your house.' 
 
 ' He came to ask for money.' 
 
 * Yes, that may be ; but if he knocked and was
 
 300 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 admitted, he cannot be said to have feloniously 
 entered your premises.' 
 
 ' I don't know about that. I gave no orders 
 that he should be let in. She took it on herself, 
 and went down and unbarred the door, and 
 brought him up to the office. When there he 
 asked for money — for twenty pounds.' 
 
 'No, gentlemen,' exclaimed Zita, 'it was not 
 so. He told the master that he advised him to 
 pay the mone)- lest the men should do mischief. 
 He asked for nothing.' 
 
 'Silence, if you please,' said the chairman; 
 ' your turn will come presently, and then we will 
 listen to your story. Proceed, Mr. Drownlands. 
 You say now that Mark Runham, the accused, 
 was let into your house by tlie pretty companion 
 — or lodger. He did not break in. The in- 
 formation is incorrect.' 
 
 ' I don't understand lawyers' jargon,' said 
 Drownlands sullenly. 'AH I know is that Mark 
 Runham came in and asked for twenty pounds, 
 and said that if I did not pay it, the men would 
 burn my ricks as they had those of Gaultrip. 
 I know that blows were struck at my door, and 
 I heard threats that the men would break in, 
 and a brick was thrown at me through the 
 window.' 
 
 ' That took place whilst Mark was in the room,' 
 said Zita. 
 
 ' Silence there ! ' shouted the constable. 
 
 'If that girl will intervene, and will not he
 
 LV COURT 301 
 
 quiet, let her be put out of the court,' said Sir 
 Bates Dudley, who was on the bench. 
 
 ' I'll be quiet,' said Zita ; * but when one hears 
 lies, it is hard not to contradict— it is hard — 
 tremenjous.' 
 
 ' Go on, Mr. Drownlands,' said the chairman. 
 
 'They threatened, if I would not pay the 
 twenty pounds, that they would burst in at the 
 door, or by the windows, and take two hundred,' 
 
 * Who ? The accused ? ' 
 
 ' No, not the accused ; the others. He was 
 in my office, speaking with me.' 
 
 ' But we do not want to hear what the others 
 said — at least not now. We are considering the 
 case of Mark Runham. He is a farmer — a 
 landowner, I believe ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, he is.' 
 
 'And you think it likely that such an one 
 would put himself at the head of a lawless rabble, 
 to wreck farms and extort money from his 
 fellow-landowners ? ' 
 
 ' He demanded twenty pounds of me.' 
 
 ' Weil, go on with your story. You refused 
 the money ? ' 
 
 * I did so at first, but in the end I was forced 
 to pay it.' 
 
 ' Forced ? Did the prisoner employ violence ? ' 
 ' No ; the rabble outside threatened to burn all 
 
 down unless I paid. I put the money into the 
 
 prisoner's hand,' 
 
 ' After that he left your house?'
 
 302 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' He took ten pounds also from Zita.' 
 ' No ; I offered them to him to save my van ! ' 
 exclaimed the girl. 
 
 'Another word of interruption, and you are 
 turned out of court,' said the chairman. * Con- 
 stable, stand by her, and if she opens her mouth 
 again, clap your hand over it, or stuff your 
 pocket-handkerchief down her throat' 
 ' I will do so, your worship.' 
 ' That is all you have to say, witness ? ' 
 'Yes. I have nothing more, except that 
 Runham gave cake and ale to the rioters.' 
 ' You saw him do so ? ' 
 ' No. I heard he had regaled them.' 
 That is no evidence.' Then the chairman 
 turned to Mark Runham and said, * Has the 
 accused any questions he would like to put to 
 witness ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Mark. ' I inquire of him whether 
 I did not protest that I came merely as a 
 neighbour and a friend.' 
 
 * A friend ? ' exclaimed Drownlands. ' No 
 Runham can be a friend to me, nor I a friend 
 to him.' 
 
 ' That is no answer to his question,' said the 
 chairman. 
 
 * He said something of the sort,' Drownlands 
 admitted. 
 
 ' Did I not say,' pursued Mark, ' that Gaultrip 
 had refused at the outset to pay blackmail, and 
 that in the end, when his rick was blazing, he
 
 IN COURT 303 
 
 gave way, and that I had run on ahead to advise 
 you as a neighbour not to provoke to outrage 
 an irritated and unreasonable rabble?' 
 
 'Yes, you said that; but how was I to know 
 you were not acting for the rioters ? You gave 
 them cake.* 
 
 ' Come,' said the magistrate occupying the 
 chair, ' we will hear now what that lively young 
 woman has to say. She clearly is bursting with 
 desire to tell us all she knows. Put her in the 
 witness-box.' 
 
 As Drownlands left the place he had occupied, 
 Zita stepped into his room at the instigation of 
 the constable. She looked up at the Bench with 
 a cheery countenance, and then round at the 
 public that crammed every available space. 
 'Your name?' 
 'Zita.' 
 
 'Yes, that is well enough as far as it goes, 
 but we want your surname also.' 
 
 ' Father said we were Greenways. But nobody 
 never called him nothing but " Cheap Jack."' 
 
 'And your profession or calling? A com- 
 panion ? ' 
 
 The court tittered. A clown in the public 
 portion of the hall guffawed. 
 
 Zita raised herself erect and said, ' A Cheap 
 Jack.' 
 
 ' A Cheap Jill, I should say,' observed the red- 
 faced chairman, laughing at his own feeble joke, 
 whereupon the Bench smiled, the clerk of the
 
 304 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 court and the constables laughed, and the public 
 roared. 
 
 The magistrate went on, * If you are a Cheap 
 Jack or Jill, how come you to be at Mr. Drown- 
 lands' house ? Is your father with you ? ' 
 
 'My father is dead,' replied Zita. 'That is 
 just why I am at Prickwillow.' 
 
 'Then I presume you are a roving Jill in 
 quest of a Jack ? ' 
 
 * It is the place of the Jacks to run after the 
 Jills,' said Zita; 'not that I want one, thank 
 you.' 
 
 ' Hush ! Hush ! No impertinence to the 
 Bench.' 
 
 * Beg pardon, I thought the impertinence came 
 from the Bench to me.' 
 
 The sally produced some merriment. When 
 it was subdued, the magistrate in the chair 
 assumed a grave manner, and inquired in a 
 different tone — 
 
 ' So you are staying at Mr. Drownlands' house ? 
 In what capacity ? ' 
 
 ' I am a Cheap Jack,' said Zita. ' I have my 
 van there, and horse, and all my goods. We 
 got stuck in the mud of the droves, when on our 
 way to Littleport, the night of Tawdry Fair. 
 Father was took ill and died. So I am lodging 
 at Prickwillow, and I pay for my lodging in 
 blacking-brushes and slop-pails.' 
 
 ' You are not, then, in any menial capacity — 
 not receiving wages ? '
 
 IN COURT 305 
 
 ' I am a Cheap Jack, laid by the heels through 
 mud and frost,' answered Zita. ' It is true I 
 have sewn on some buttons for Master Drown- 
 lands, and have hemmed the linen, and he gives 
 me house-room for my van and me and the 
 horse, till the dry weather comes and we can 
 move away.' 
 
 'Well, enough of that. Tell us what you 
 know about the events of the sixteenth.' 
 
 'First of aw — aw — all,' interposed Sir Bates 
 Dudley, who sat on the right of the chairman. 
 ' She has been put on her oath. Had we not 
 bet — tet — tet — er ascertain if she is aware of 
 the nature of an oath ? ' 
 
 ' Ah, to be sure ! I suppose you were brought 
 up as a Cheap Jack ? ' 
 
 * Always — since I was a baby.' 
 
 'And not in the most virtuous and godly 
 manner, I fear?' 
 
 ' I beg pardon, sir?' 
 
 Here the constable interposed. He stooped 
 and said in Zita's ear, 'Address the Bench as 
 " your worships." ' 
 
 ' I beg pardon, your worships. My father 
 brought me up. There was not a better man 
 anywhere.' 
 
 'Then — do you understand the nature of an 
 oath ? • 
 
 'Father didn't swear but very little — off an' 
 on like — and mostly at Jewel, who was some- 
 times very provoking. But nothing like the 
 20
 
 J 
 
 06 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 man with the merry-go-round — he swore 
 awful.' 
 
 ' I do not mean that. Do you comprehend 
 that you have solemnly promised to speak the 
 truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, 
 and that you have called Heaven to witness that 
 it is so ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Zita, with a sigh ; ' but it is hard — 
 tremenjous.' 
 
 * What ? — hard to speak the truth ? ' 
 
 'Yes, your worship — because of the general 
 public. You never was a Cheap Jack, was you, 
 your worship? ' 
 
 ' No. Oh dear no, never — never ! ' 
 
 * I thought so. I never saw you at any of the 
 fairs, but there was a man who swallowed knives 
 like that gentleman at your side.' 
 
 'Never mind about that' 
 
 ' I was going to say, sir, that as you never was 
 a Cheap Jack, you can't understand what the 
 feelings of one is, when she sees the general 
 public afore her eyes. There comes a sort of 
 swelling of the heart, and a desire of the mind 
 to launch out into wonderful tales, and a longing 
 to make the General Jackass believe that black is 
 white, and chalk is cheese, that what is broken 
 is sound, and what is old is new. But I will do 
 my best. I'll shut my eyes and try to forget the 
 general public, and fancy I'm with father in the 
 van, for then I always said straight out what 
 was true.'
 
 IN COURT 307 
 
 The winter sun streamed in at the south 
 window over against Zita and flooded lier as she 
 stood in the witness-box. She had a scarlet and 
 yellow flowered kerchief round her neck and 
 over her shoulders, the white chip bonnet with 
 black ribbons hardly contained her luxuriant, 
 shining hair. The sun blazed in her face, 
 flushing her ripe cheeks, making very June 
 cherries of her lips, and adding a solar twinkle 
 to the sparkle of intelligence and wit indwelling 
 in her honest but roguish eyes. She stood as 
 upright as a wand, her hands resting on the rail 
 before her, and her head thrown back. 
 
 The chairman bent to Sir Bates Dudley and 
 whispered — ■ 
 
 ' What a good-looking wench it is ! ' 
 
 ' Is she, indeed ? ' said the canon. ' You don't 
 mean to say so,' 
 
 It did not comport with ecclesiastical, certainly 
 not with canonical, decorum and dignity to 
 know whether a girl were good-looking or not. 
 
 The chairman turned to the magistrate on his 
 left and made the same remark. This magis- 
 trate was a layman, a retired admiral, who had 
 come to live in Ely because his daughter was 
 married to an official there. His name was 
 Abbott, There was no etiquette in Her Majesty's 
 Navy against observing good looks. He replied, 
 * Thunderingly so. Christian.' 
 
 Christian was the chairman's name. 
 
 'I'll speak the truth,' said Zita; 'though it
 
 3o8 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 is against nature — just as it was against nature 
 for that little fat gentleman to ride yesterday ; 
 but he did it, because he ought.' 
 
 A roar of laughter at the expense of Sir Bates 
 Dudley. 
 
 'Go on,' said the chairman, hardly controlling 
 himself — the lay members of the Bench loved to 
 have a joke at the expense of the clerical 
 members. ' Tell your story, and tell it truthfully, 
 or you'll get yourself into difficulties.' 
 
 ' I mean to,' said Zita. 
 
 Then she gave the narrative of the events of 
 the evening of the riot in their order, with such 
 lucidity and simplicity, and so frankly, that the 
 truth of her story was stamped on every sentence. 
 Now and then some odd remark, some allusion 
 to her van or goods, or to the horse, provoked 
 a laugh, and she kept Bench and public in good 
 humour. 
 
 ' I really think,' said Mr. Christian, ' that we 
 may dismiss the case against young Runham. 
 If my brother magistrates agree with me ' — He 
 looked round and met with nods of approval. 
 * The charge against Mark Runham seems to be 
 a mistake. There is actually nothing in it, and 
 the Bench sincerely regrets that, through a mis- 
 understanding, and possibly through an excess 
 of zeal on the part of Mr. Drownlands, you, 
 Mark Runham, should have been placed in the 
 position you have. Constable, discharge him.' 
 
 ' Thank you, gents,' said Zita. ' You've done
 
 IN COURT 309 
 
 right, and I'm glad of it. As I came here, I 
 heard that you had given orders for Pip to be 
 called. I did think you then a set of ninnies — 
 but now ' — 
 
 'That will do. You can leave the witness- 
 box.' 
 
 ' No, sir — your worship, not yet. I have not 
 quite said all I want to say. I am very much 
 obliged that you have listened to reason and 
 have let Mark go. And, your worships, there 
 are six of you on the bench. I have got just 
 six toasting-forks in stock — the beautifullest 
 toasting-forks that ever you saw. They have 
 red japanned handles and brass mounts, and 
 fold up small, like telescopes, into the handle. 
 And if your worships will do me the favour of 
 coming to Prickwillow, I'll furnish every one of 
 you with a toasting-fork.' 
 
 ' That will do ; leave the witness-box.' 
 
 'And, your worships, if you will pass over 
 poor Pip Beamish, — he's not right in his head, 
 — I'll let you have a real epergne to raffle for 
 between you.' 
 
 'Constable, remove that girl. Turn her out 
 of the court,' ordered the chairman, red with 
 laughter. 
 
 ' I pity the man she chooses as her husband,' 
 said Christian behind his hand to Abbott, when 
 his order was being carried out. 
 
 ' Or Drownlands, whose companion she is,* 
 whispered the admiral.
 
 310 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'No — hang it!' said Mr. Christian. * No 
 more of that. I am sure that girl is as straight 
 as a whistle. You cannot look in her honest 
 face and hear her cheery voice and not swear she 
 is as good and clean as gold. Ton my life, 
 Abbott, I have a mind to go for my toasting- 
 fork. What say you ? You are an old acquaint- 
 ance, as you heard, — swallowed knives at the 
 fair, — will you go ? '
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 PISGAH 
 
 ZITA was standing in the room Drownlands 
 called his office, in conversation with the 
 master. 
 
 'What did you mean by that which you said 
 to the magistrates — that you were tied here by 
 frost, held by mud, and that when frost went 
 and mud dried you would be free to go ? ' 
 
 ' It is so.' 
 
 * You will leave me ? ' 
 
 ' I would go as soon as the van could roll 
 along the drove,' replied Zita, ' but that there 
 are other difficulties than frost and mud, and 
 how to get out of these I do not as yet see. I 
 work at them in my head, but cannot find a way 
 of escape.' She considered a while, with her 
 hands folded and her eyes on the floor. 'You 
 see, there is the stock. It seems sinful to let 
 it lie idle — if it don't breed money, it will breed 
 moths and rust. Father always said money was 
 made to jump — just the same as frogs were so 
 
 311
 
 312 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 created. Here is all this store of goods doing 
 nothing. Here is myself — born a Cheap Jack, 
 and a Cheap Jack to my fingers' ends. I am 
 not in my right place if not going about in my 
 van to fairs and markets, selling my goods, and 
 making the money jump, as it was ordained to.' 
 Zita pursed her lips. ' That is on one side. On 
 the other there are considerations also. In the 
 first place, it is awkward for a young girl to be 
 cheap-jacking over the country — it's awkward, 
 and it's not respectable. She cannot manage 
 by herself. As the gentleman said, a Jill must 
 have a Jack. That was true, though I did not 
 like to hear him say it. I could not manage 
 the van and Jewel and the selling alone. I 
 must have some man with me. And if I were 
 to take a servant, he might set his head to make 
 himself Jack and make me Jill. And to take a 
 proper Jack,' pursued Zita, — ' I mean, to have a 
 husband, — why, I don't fancy it. I don't like 
 the notion of it at all. There is my great 
 difficulty.' 
 
 ' Then stay at Prickwillow.' 
 
 ' I don't know. If I were here, you would not 
 leave me in peace and quietness. I do not 
 desire to remain here, but I do not know where 
 else to go. Now, you see, I am in a cleft 
 stick.' 
 
 ' Take me, and remain.' 
 
 * That, I have told you, can never be. If you 
 ask that again, I will go. If you say nought
 
 PISGAH 313 
 
 about it, I will make shift to stay till something 
 turns up.' 
 
 ' Till you find a Jack ? ' 
 
 * I do not want a Jack. I said so. I want to 
 remain free — Jack and Jill all in one.' Her 
 expression suddenly changed as she asked, 
 ' Have they taken Pip Beamish yet? ' 
 
 ' No ; he has been seen, but he eluded capture. 
 He is in the Fens. He has some hiding-place, 
 but where it is we have not yet discovered. 
 The constables are out and watching. He 
 cannot leave the Fens.' 
 
 'Cannot? He escaped the dragoons. He 
 has escaped the constables, as you tell me now.' 
 
 ' Ah ! the dragoons were not accustomed to 
 fen ways. The constables will take him. They 
 will form a ring and close in. There is a reward 
 for whoever takes him, and I have added five 
 guineas.' 
 
 ' And I will give ten to any constable who 
 lets him slip through his fingers. Publish 
 that.' 
 
 ' We have had enough of Ephraim Beamish,' 
 said the master. ' We were speaking about our- 
 selves. You have your difficulties and troubles, 
 but I also have mine.' 
 
 Drownlands seated himself at the table, placed 
 his arms on the board, and for a moment rested 
 his head on his folded arms. Then he looked 
 up and said — 
 
 * I have my distresses, but they are of other
 
 314 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 nature to yours, and different in degree. Do 
 you know Scripture ? Did your father ever 
 read the Bible to you ? ' 
 
 ' My father was a God-fearing man,' answered 
 Zita, with warmth and pride. ' He made me 
 learn passages by heart, and there was one tale 
 he read over every Sunday, and never tired of 
 it. It was how the Israelites borrowed of the 
 Egyptians jewels of silver and gold, and spoiled 
 the Egyptians, then went off and got the 
 Egyptians drowned, and so were able to keep 
 their borrowings. Father said there was the 
 making of Cheap Jacks in them Israelites.' 
 
 ' Did you ever read of Moses, how he went up 
 the mountain to view the Promised Land, — the 
 land flowing with milk and honey, — and he 
 looked on it from afar, but was never allowed 
 to set foot thereon ? And he died there, in the 
 mount. The wind came to him sweet with 
 thyme, and he saw the green cattle pastures by 
 the waters of comfort, but he might not drink of 
 its milk or eat its honey. And he died there, 
 looking at the land that was so near and yet so 
 far, a land he might see, but never set foot on. 
 He died there, for it broke his heart.' 
 
 Drownlands laid his head again on his folded 
 arms. Zita remained in the same position. 
 She had an inkling of his drift, and was uneasy, 
 and cast about for some means of relief from a 
 painful scene. 
 
 ' I suppose,' she said, ' there were fine bargains
 
 PISGAH 315 
 
 to be driven in the Promised Land, and that the 
 Canaanites were as soft-headed as the Egyptians. 
 To a man of proper feeling it was vexing.' 
 
 Drownlands paid no attention to the remark. 
 He continued — 
 
 'Do you remember why Moses was not 
 suffered to go in and possess the Good Land ? 
 There was something betwixt him and it. He 
 had done that which was against the law, there- 
 fore the Lord showed him the fields of Canaan, 
 but said he must never lay his head in the dewy 
 grass, never smell its upturned earth, never 
 touch its fair flowers.' 
 
 'Yes, I remember something about it,' said 
 Zita. 
 
 ' What killed Moses was the seeing the land, 
 and being told it never might be his,' continued 
 Drownlands. ' But he could not go back from 
 Pisgah into the wilderness. He could not turn 
 his back on Canaan. He must sit among the 
 rocks, and look on the pleasant land, till his 
 heart broke, and he died.' 
 
 The girl fixed her eyes on the quivering face 
 of Drownlands. She saw that he was in terrible 
 earnest, and she did not see her way out of an 
 embarrassing situation. He spoke again. 
 
 ' Zita, do you think it would have been wise 
 for Joshua to have come up into Pisgah when 
 Moses was there? Would not Moses have 
 sprung up and cried out, " This man will enter 
 on what is denied me ! " and have held him by
 
 3i6 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the throat ? ' Drownlands was now on his feet, 
 his hands extended before him, suiting his 
 action to his words. ' He would have held him 
 by the throat, have thrown him on a rock, put 
 his knee to his chest, and bent his back so — and 
 have broken his back.' 
 
 As he spoke, he hit and split and crushed 
 down half the table. Then he drew a long 
 inhalation, reseated himself, wiped his brow, 
 and said — 
 
 'There is no Joshua. You swore to me there 
 was none.' 
 
 ' I think I can comprehend this roundabout 
 talk,' said Zita. ' But if you mean that I am 
 your Promised Land, you are mistaken. I 
 never was promised to you.' 
 
 ' No, that is true ; you are the Loved Land, 
 the Desired Land. No, you never were 
 promised.* 
 
 'And it is quite certain that I am not for 
 you.' 
 
 ' I know it.' 
 
 ' And I will trouble you to keep your Pisgah 
 at a distance, and stick to it,' said Zita. 
 
 ' You have told me that you never can be 
 mine, and you have told me also why. My sin 
 stands between us, as a sin stood between 
 Moses and Canaan. And yet — I would do it 
 again if I met him. You do not know how 
 Runham wronged me ; you have never learned 
 what was my provocation. I pay the penalty
 
 PISGAH 317 
 
 of my sin, as did Moses. That very night I 
 killed him — that very same night, not two 
 minutes after the last bubbles came from his 
 lips — I first saw you. The punishment followed 
 on the crime faster than the thunder-clap after 
 the lightning-flash. Well, then, so long as you 
 remain before my eyes, that I can see your 
 golden hair, and hear your lark-like voice, I am 
 content. I have all I can expect. I will try to 
 be content. But I could not endure to have a 
 Joshua near me.' 
 
 'There is none — if you mean a Jack.' 
 
 ' I trust your word. Mark Runham is nothing 
 to you ? ' 
 
 ' I am nothing to Mark,' said Zita, with slight 
 evasion. ' He would not even look at me in 
 court.' 
 
 ' So long as you remain here, I will bear my 
 burden, though it break my heart, bit by bit. 
 But that is better than to lose you altogether. 
 No ' — he stood up again, went to the window, 
 leaned his arm and head against the shattered 
 casement, and let the wind blow in on him 
 through the broken glass — ' no, that I can bear 
 — to have you here. But to lose you — to see 
 you no more — I cannot even endure to think of 
 that.' 
 
 Zita made a movement to escape. He heard 
 her, and, without turning his head, made a sign 
 to her with his hand to stay. 
 
 ' Do not leave me. I have still something I
 
 3i8 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 must say. I want to strike a bargain with 
 you.' 
 
 'A deal ? I am ready.' 
 
 Zita resumed her place. Drownlands came 
 slowly back to the table. 
 
 ' Listen to me,' he said, with a thrill in his 
 deep tones. ' I have made up my mind to this 
 — that his blood lies between me and you, as 
 a Dead Sea I may never cross. I must sit 
 on my Pisgah and look at you as unapproach- 
 able. That is all I can hope for ; that is all I 
 demand ; and in order to secure this, I am ready 
 to make you an offer. I shall never marry — 
 never. All the land round Prickwillow is mine, 
 and I have money in the bank — many thousands 
 of pounds. You know what money is worth. 
 You can judge what this land brings in every 
 year to heap the pile. It shall all be yours if 
 you will stay with me till I die. I ask for 
 nothing else but to have you here in this house, 
 that I may hear you laugh, that I may see your 
 smiling face. That is all. I will not open my 
 mouth to ask for anything but that — just to see 
 you and hear you every day ; now and then to 
 touch your hand ; happy, if as you pass me 
 your skirts brush me ; glad for a day if you 
 condescend to cast a word at me. That is all — 
 the full, the sum of all. And for that I will pay 
 away everything I have. Command me. Do 
 with me what you please, only do not banish 
 me. My money is at your disposal, and when
 
 PISGAH 319 
 
 I die everything that I have becomes yours. 
 See here.' He went to his desk, unlocked it, 
 and drew forth a paper. ' I have made my will, 
 but it is not yet signed and attested. It could 
 not be so till we had come to an arrangement 
 together. If you will undertake to remain witli 
 me on the terms I propose, then you will be a 
 wealthy woman some day when I am gone. 
 And whilst I am here cumbering the place,' — 
 his tone was bitter, — ' you have but to ask and I 
 will give you what you require. Agree with me, 
 and this document shall be signed and attested 
 forthwith. For a very slight concession on your 
 part you will receive a rich repayment. As you 
 said, you could not go about the country in your 
 van, and you have no settled home to which you 
 can go. Surely you will concede this to me.' 
 
 He placed the paper on the table before Zita. 
 
 She took up the will and read it through. 
 
 In few words, and to the point, Drownlands 
 had constituted her sole heir and legatee to 
 everything he possessed, on the one condition 
 that she remained in his house through the rest 
 of his life 
 
 She put the paper down on the table again, 
 without, however, releasing it from her hand, 
 and stood considering. 
 
 'There is one thing,' she said, after a long 
 pause, ' one thing I must stick out for whether 
 I stay here for a short time or for long.' 
 
 'What is that?'
 
 320 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' That you board up the shed where my van 
 is kept, so that the fowls may not roost on it.' 
 
 Then in at the door came Mrs. Tunkiss. 
 
 * There's Mark Runham come/ she said to 
 the master, after looking suspiciously first at 
 Zita, then at him. ' And he says he must speak 
 with you on business.' 
 
 'Mark? — Mark again? Bring him here. I 
 am not afraid of him now. Come, Zita, what 
 say you to my offer ? ' 
 
 For a few moments she remained with her 
 hand to her head, breathing hard, her eyes 
 dim. 
 
 ' Come, Zita — what answer? ' 
 
 She looked at him with glazed eyes. She 
 was in pain and sorrow. She would in one 
 moment see Mark, — Mark, whom she loved, — 
 and see him with the knowledge that she never 
 could be his. But the demand made of her to 
 surrender was not so great as it might have 
 been had Mark loved and respected her. He 
 liked, or had once liked her. Now he loved 
 another. He despised her for some reason she 
 could not understand. He held by Kainie, to 
 whom he was bound by promise, and to whom, 
 after a short wavering of his affections, he had 
 returned. 
 
 'Come, Zita, what say you to my offer?' 
 
 In a whisper, with sunk head, her chin in her 
 bosom, and with folded hands — 
 
 ' I accept'
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 A PARTHIAN SHOT 
 
 SHALL I go?' asked Zita. 
 'No, stay. There can nothing pass 
 betwixt us but what you may hear. And now 
 that he is come, he shall witness the signature to 
 the will.' 
 
 * I would rather leave.' 
 
 Further discussion of this point was prevented 
 by the entrance of Mark. 
 
 The young man noticed that Zita was in the 
 room, but he did not look at her or address her. 
 He directed his eyes steadily at Drownlands, 
 who remained seated at the table. 
 
 * I have come on business,* said Mark. 
 ' Say what it is.' 
 
 Mark demurred. 'Let us speak together in 
 private.' 
 
 ' No ; what has to be said may be said before 
 her.' 
 
 ' If you wish it. I have come concerning 
 Kainie.' 
 
 21
 
 322 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 'What about Kainie?' 
 
 ' She is your niece.' 
 
 ' To my sorrow.' 
 
 ' You should not say that. She is a good 
 girl. Not to your sorrow, but to your shame.' 
 
 Drownlands stamped. 
 
 ' Spare me words. My patience will not 
 stretch far.' 
 
 * Kainie is your sister's only child. She is 
 your nearest relative. I have come to you in 
 her interest. It is no longer possible for her to 
 remain at Red Wings.' 
 
 ' Why not ? ' 
 
 ' It is not seemly. It is not just. The Fens 
 are in commotion ; wild men are about, lawless 
 deeds are being done. She is but a girl, and 
 is unprotected, and away from help, if she 
 needed it' 
 
 ' She has her dog.' 
 
 * That is not sufficient. Dogs have been 
 silenced before now. Consider to what dangers 
 a girl is exposed in such a solitary spot' 
 
 ' Pshaw ! the men are cowed.' 
 'Several are about in hiding, and are not yet 
 captured. You do a great wrong to Kainie.' 
 
 * I do her no wrong. I leave her alone.' 
 
 ' That in itself is a grievous wrong. Whose 
 duty is it to guard her, but yours ? She bears 
 your name.' 
 
 'To my disgrace!' exclaimed Drownlands, 
 glaring up with wrath. ' No more of that'
 
 A PARTHIAN SHOT 323 
 
 ' Well, it is no pleasant topic' 
 
 ' Did Kainie send you to me ? ' 
 
 ' No ; I came because I felt concerned for her, 
 and convinced that she must not be allowed — 
 no, not for another night — to remain under the 
 sails of Red Wings. Will you receive her at 
 Prickwillow ? ' 
 
 'Not I.' 
 
 * She must be removed from the mill. If you 
 will not take charge of her, then I must' 
 
 * You are welcome. I will have nothing to do 
 with her.' 
 
 ' Well, then, so be it. It is your duty to see to 
 her security. You refuse to do your duty, so I 
 shall take her. That is settled. Now, one thing 
 further. Will you make Kainie an allowance, — 
 something to support her, — even if you refuse her 
 shelter ? ' 
 
 ' Not a penny. I washed my hands of her 
 mother, and I wash my hands of her.' 
 
 ' I feared this would be your answer,' said 
 Mark, and drew a long breath. ' I feared my 
 application to you would be in vain. Neverthe- 
 less, I considered myself bound to make it ; I 
 could not act till you had refused to act ; much 
 as did Boaz when troubled concerning Ruth. 
 You finally refuse to give protection to Kainie 
 in her loneliness, and at this season of danger? ' 
 
 ' Ay, I do.' 
 
 'And refuse to furnish her with even a 
 pittance out of your abundance ? '
 
 324 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' Ay, I do.' 
 
 'You should blush to deny her what she 
 needs.' 
 
 ' I blush for her being in the world at all,' 
 
 Mark turned to go. Then Drownlands spoke 
 out in strong tones — 
 
 ' Stay ! Now that you are here, I ask you to 
 do me a favour. It is not much — merely to 
 witness a document, to attest my signature to 
 my will. I desire you to see me sign that, and 
 it will be the best answer I can make to your 
 application on behalf of Kainie. Zita, call up 
 Leehanna Tunkiss.' 
 
 Mrs. Tunkiss was behind the door. She had 
 been listening in the passage, and now appeared 
 in the doorway, after a short scuffle of feet, to 
 give a semblance of her having come from a 
 distance. 
 
 * Do you want me, master ? ' she asked. * I 
 was in the midst of baking.' 
 
 'Stand there,' ordered Drownlands. Then, 
 rising to his feet, he held up the will and said, 
 ' I have been making my last testament, and 
 I desire that you, Mark Runham, and you, 
 Leehanna Tunkiss, should see me sign it. But 
 that will not suffice. I wish you to know its 
 contents, and then there can be no question 
 relative to its genuineness ; and, above all, no 
 delusions, no hopes, no schemes can be based 
 on relationship, fancied or real, that are doomed 
 to disappointment.'
 
 A PARTHIAN SHOT 325 
 
 Drownlands looked round him. He saw a 
 flicker in Leehanna's eye. She was akin to him 
 distantly, yet really. 
 
 * Zita and I have come to an understanding 
 together,' said the yeoman, in articulate words 
 spoken slowly. ' Zita has promised that she 
 will remain with me, and will look after my 
 house, rule over my servants, attend to my 
 comforts as long as I live. If you, Lechanna, 
 choose to remain with this understanding' — 
 
 ' I shall do no such thing,' said the house- 
 keeper, tossing her head. ' I thought matters 
 would come to this very quickly. I knew what 
 the minx was aiming at' 
 
 * That is your affair,' said the master. * Zita 
 stays here, and her word is to be law in my 
 house. 1 have made my will, and leave to her 
 everything I possess — every brick of my house, 
 every clod of my soil, every guinea of my hoard.' 
 He paused, and looked from one to another. 
 Mark and Leehanna remained mute with aston- 
 ishment, ' Now go, Mark Runham, as soon as 
 you have attested my signature, and tell Kainie 
 she has nothing to expect from me at present, 
 nor in times to come — nothing from Drown- 
 lands living, or Drownlands dead. Let this be 
 known throughout the Fens. Mark Runham, 
 stand here and witness me sign my name. This 
 is my true act and deed.' 
 
 * I will not do this,' said the young man, 
 turning white. ' Get some one else to see this
 
 326 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 done — this that stamps her infamy and your 
 baseness,' He turned sharply about and went 
 through the door. Then he halted for a moment, 
 hesitated, holding the jamb with one hand, and, 
 looking back with a face devoid of colour, said, 
 * To-night I shall fetch Kainie away, and she 
 shall find her home with me.' 
 
 ' Mark ! ' exclaimed Zita, running to him. 
 
 ' Stand back ! ' said he roughly. ' Do not 
 come near me ; you, who sell yourself body and 
 soul for what you call profits.' 
 
 Then he turned and staggered down the stairs. 
 
 'And I give notice that I leave this house 
 at once,' said Mrs. Tunkiss. ' Fine goings on 
 these be. I have ever kept myself respectable. 
 I've been the only respectable woman here 
 besides Sarah. I'm not going to stay in this 
 house, which will be avoided by every decent 
 woman, with a man that will be pointed at by 
 every decent man, with her in it as missus — as 
 missus ' — 
 
 The woman laughed bitterly, tauntingly, and 
 threw a foul name in the face of Zita, and then 
 backed, with a sneer on her lips and hate in her 
 eyes.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 PURGATORY 
 
 SUDDENLY, and for the first time, did the 
 thought flare through Zita's brain and 
 scorch it — that she had compromised her 
 character. 
 
 Now only did she see why Mark had refused 
 to look at her ; now only understand what he 
 meant when he said that she had sold herself 
 body and soul; now only comprehended what 
 the laughter signified when the chairman in 
 court had suggested that she was the 'com- 
 panion ' of Drownlands, a suggestion which had 
 been received with titters. She remembered 
 how then her brow had become hot, her heart 
 had beat fast ; she was sensible that something 
 had been said that hurt her maiden pride, some- 
 thing that lowered her in the esteem of those 
 assembled in the court. But she had not 
 sounded the meaning of the insinuation, and 
 had not thought what was really the sting in 
 the words which wounded her. 
 
 327
 
 328 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Zita possessed a considerable amount of pride 
 — a different sort of pride, maybe, from any 
 that we can conceive in our stations in life. It 
 was not vanity. She concerned herself little 
 about her personal appearance, and made no 
 effort by dress to display her beauty. She 
 knew she was a good-looking girl, and was 
 indifferent to the fact. She had no education 
 of the sort which we prize ; but she had stood 
 on platforms, her feet level with the shoulders 
 of the general public, and she had come, 
 instinctively, without being able to account to 
 herself for it, to regard herself as possessing a 
 character, a dignity of her own above that which 
 belonged to the members of the general public. 
 She who stood above it actually must live up to 
 her level, and stand above it in moral strength 
 and integrity. 
 
 Zita had a simple and innocent mind. She 
 had been reared in a van, had led a rambling 
 life, her sole associate had been a father — a 
 kindly man, gentle, good after his lights, and 
 very careful of her welfare. The fact of her 
 having been shifted perpetually from place to 
 place had prevented her forming associates, 
 making fast friendships, so that she had really 
 had none to affect her mind save her father, and 
 had grown to womanhood a singular combination 
 of shrewdness and simplicity. Thus her heart 
 was fresh and childlike, whilst her brain was 
 keen in all that concerned commerce. She had
 
 PURGATORY 339 
 
 been carefully screened by the Cheap Jack father 
 from everything that could taint the sweetness 
 of her innocence and sully the crystalline purity 
 of her mind. 
 
 There was one thing she had never learned 
 from her father, one thing of which till this 
 moment she had no conception — the power of 
 public opinion. She had acquired in her 
 vagrant life an idea that the general public was 
 a something to be laughed at and laughed with, 
 that was to be humoured, cajoled, befooled ; but 
 it had never been suspected by her that the 
 public could utter its voice and make the heart 
 quake, breathe on and blast a reputation, could 
 bite and poison the blood. 
 
 Now, suddenly, a veil was lifted, and she saw 
 the general public in a new light, and felt the 
 terrible power over her life and happiness that 
 it exercised. 
 
 No man is so free as the man without a home. 
 If he has committed an indiscretion, he pulls up 
 his tent-pegs, moves away, and is forgotten. 
 But a man who remains on the scene of his 
 indiscretion is haunted by it ever after. The 
 remembrance clings to him as the shirt of 
 Nessus. It is never forgotten, never forgiven. 
 As long as the van crawled over the face of 
 the country, changing the atmosphere that 
 surrounded it, it eluded the force of public 
 opinion. Its inmates paid no tax to it ; were 
 not registered on its books. But hardly had
 
 330 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Zita become settled before its burden fell upon 
 her. 
 
 * Unsay what you have said ! ' cried Zita, 
 grasping Mrs, Tunkiss by the arm. 
 
 * It is true. It is what every one has been 
 saying ; and, as you see, Mark Runham won't 
 have anything to do with you. You thought to 
 catch him, did you ? You've been angling for 
 him and the master, and taken the one as bids 
 highest. 'Tis like a Cheap Jack that. You're 
 young, but bold as brass and cankered as 
 iron.' 
 
 ' Silence, you false-mouthed woman ! ' 
 
 * Can you silence all the tongues in the Fen ? 
 There's not a man over his pipe and ale in the 
 tavern ain't jeering at you. There's not a 
 woman over her soapsuds and scrubbing-brush 
 ain't crying shame on you. But what can you 
 expect of a vagabond but vice? I spit at 
 you.' 
 
 Zita cast the woman from her, and turned and 
 threw herself on her knees at the broken table, 
 buried her face in her hands, and burst into tears. 
 
 Drownlands waved imperiously to the house- 
 keeper to leave, and the woman withdrew, 
 muttering and casting malignant glances at the 
 broken, prostrate girl. 
 
 The table was between the master of Prick- 
 willow and Zita. His knuckles rested on the 
 will. He leaned on them, and looked down on 
 the shining head that was laid low before him.
 
 PURGATORY 331 
 
 Zita's hair was cut short, and her neck showed 
 as well as her rounded cheek. 
 
 He did not speak. He breathed heavily 
 through his distended nostrils. He waited, not 
 knowing what direction her thoughts might take, 
 what resolve her mind would form. 
 
 There were but few alternatives among which 
 she might choose. She could not resume her 
 life as Cheap Jack without taking an assistant, 
 and from that course she shrank with maidenly 
 repugnance, rightly estimating its dangers. If 
 she were to throw herself among the wanderers 
 who frequented fairs, it would be to court ruin. 
 Was it not probable that she would maintain 
 her resolution to remain at Prickwillow, with this 
 difference, that she would accept his first offer, 
 and become his wife, to save her fair name from 
 reproach ? So far as Drownlands could see, this 
 was the only means whereby she could extricate 
 herself from her difficulties, and his heart swelled 
 within him at the hope that opened before him. 
 But he saw clearly that he must allow her to 
 work to this solution by herself unassisted. A 
 word from him would mar everything. 
 
 He accordingly stood with bent brows and 
 pale face, the furrows deeply graven on his 
 forehead and seaming his cheek, his lips set, 
 looking steadily at the chestnut-gold head and 
 the delicate bowed neck. 
 
 There is no agony more terrible than the 
 agony of the soul, and among the many anguishes
 
 332 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 with which that can be affected none equals in 
 intensity and poignancy that which is caused by 
 the sense of the loss of the respect of men. 
 
 There was an ineffable humiliation in the 
 thought of the light in which she — Zita — had 
 come to be regarded, if what Mrs. Tunkiss said 
 was true. The girl who errs through over-trust 
 in a lover, who has believed his word, his oath, 
 is looked down on, but deserves some pity. But 
 Zita did not occupy such a position, had not the 
 same claim to be dealt by lightly. She had — so 
 men thought, so men said — deliberately and 
 calculatingly sold herself to Drownlands. Her 
 degradation had been a piece of sordid merchan- 
 dise, with haggling over terms. 
 
 That was true which Leehanna said. She 
 was the subject-matter of talk in the taverns, of 
 coarse and ribald jokes, of calculation of the 
 chances she had of retaining the affections of 
 Drownlands, of remark on her craft, her dexterity 
 in laying hold of and managing this intractable 
 tyrant of the Fens. 
 
 But perhaps the intensest anguish-point lay 
 in the thought that Mark, who had loved her, or 
 liked her — Mark, whom she had loved, whom 
 she loved still, regarded her with disgust, held 
 himself aloof from her, as one unworthy even of 
 his pity, as a cold, calculating wanton. 
 
 As all these thoughts passed through the mind 
 of Zita, the pain was so excessive that she could 
 have shrieked, and felt relief in shrieking ; that
 
 PURGATORY 333 
 
 she worked with her feet on the planks of the 
 floor, as though to bore with them a hole down 
 which she might disappear and hide her shame. 
 
 The drops ran off her brow like the drops 
 on a window after rain— long-gathering trickles 
 of moisture, then a great drop, immediately 
 succeeded by another accumulation, and again 
 another drop. Save for the working of her feet 
 on the floor and the movement of her fingers, 
 she was motionless. Drownlands contemplated 
 her steadily. He saw her, in her anguish of 
 mind, twine and untwine her long fingers, then 
 pluck at and strip off chips of the table where 
 he had broken it, put them between her teeth 
 and bite them, but still with lowered brow and 
 eyes that she could not raise for shame. He 
 could see flushes pass over her, succeeded by 
 deadly pallor. It was as though flames were 
 flickering about her head, shooting up and 
 enveloping throat and cheek and brow, then 
 dying down and leaving a deathly cold behind. 
 A soul in this present life was prematurely 
 suffering its purgatory. 
 
 Then she laid her hands flat on the table 
 before her, then folded them, as children fold 
 their hands in prayer, and she was still, as though 
 her pulses had ceased to beat and her lungs to 
 play. Then again ensued a paroxysm of distress, 
 in which the fingers writhed and became knotted, 
 and tears broke from her eyes and sobs from 
 her heart.
 
 334 ^ CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 How long would this last? 
 
 What resolutions were forming and unforming 
 under that crown of shining locks, in that heavily- 
 charged heart? 
 
 The door was thrust open, and in came Sarah, 
 the maid with St. Vitus' dance. 
 
 * Please,' she said, * there be three gem'men 
 from Ely downstairs. They say they be come 
 after their toastin'- forks.'
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 WITH TOASTING-FORKS 
 
 ZITA rose from her knees. 
 ' Tell them to wait, and I will be down 
 directly/ she said. ' I made them a promise, 
 and I must keep it. I am glad they are here ; 
 they can witness the will, now that Mark 
 Runham and Leehanna Tunkiss are gone.' 
 
 Drownlands was surprised. The girl had 
 regained her composure ; and from the look of 
 her face he was assured that she had formed 
 her resolution. 
 
 ' That is right,' said he ; * things remain as 
 arranged.' 
 
 ' I cannot go away,' said Zita in a low voice. 
 ' Here I am, and here I must remain. If I have 
 done wrong to stay here, the wrong is done. If 
 I have been foolish to accept your hospitality, 
 the folly is past recall.' She looked over her 
 shoulder to see that Sarah had withdrawn. 
 
 ' Yes ; I promised you I would remain here, 
 and here I will remain, on a condition.' 
 
 335
 
 336 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 He held up the will. 
 
 ' Yes, on condition that you leave everything 
 you have as I shall direct.' 
 
 ' I leave it all to you.' 
 
 ' The will must be written afresh,' said Zita ; 
 'a change must be made in it. You have 
 bequeathed everything to me, and because of 
 that, evil thoughts will rise up in folks' minds, 
 and evil words will pass over their lips. Even 
 Mark thinks ill of me. I did not think Mark 
 could have done that.' She heaved a sigh, and 
 drew her hand across her eyes. 
 
 'Master,' said she, after a pause, 'you had no 
 right to make that will and leave me all. I am 
 not your niece, I shall never stand nearer to 
 you than I do now. I have no claim on your 
 house or lands. But Kainie has. She is your 
 own sister's child. You must alter your will 
 and leave everything to her.' 
 
 ' I said I would give her nought' 
 
 ' And that made Mark believe me to be bad. 
 I will not have anything of yours. I will have 
 you make the writing out anew, and bequeath 
 everything to Kainie — on the same condition, 
 if you will, that I remain here all your days. 
 I do not say. Give Kainie everything now. I 
 have no right to say that. I do not say, Give 
 me nothing at any time. I shall have a right to 
 some payment, or some acknowledgment of my 
 services. But what I do say is that I will not 
 be your heir hereafter. Kainie has a claim on
 
 WITH TOASTING-FORKS 337 
 
 you that I have not. If I were to be enriched 
 with house and lands by you, then the evil that 
 is thought of me would be confirmed. But 
 folks may say what they will, when, some day, 
 after you are gone, the property changes hands 
 and falls to Kainie ; they cannot think I have 
 been so wicked as was supposed. And I shall 
 have repaid you for your kindness to me, in 
 that I have saved you from committing a great 
 injustice. Mark said I would do anything— 
 sell body and soul — for profit. He will come to 
 see that he was wrong there.' 
 
 Drownlands gazed on the girl with incredulity. 
 She had hit on an arrangement that had not 
 suggested itself to his mind. He could not 
 believe that she was serious in her purpose. 
 
 ' I will remain with you,' continued Zita, ' on 
 the clear understanding that Kainie is to be 
 your heir, and I would wish this understanding 
 to be generally made known. Some day, when 
 I am old and ugly, and you are dead and gone, 
 then, when the new folks come into Prickwillow, 
 I'll harness the horse and start as a Cheap Jack 
 once more. Then I can take a man to mind 
 the horse, when I do the business of a Cheap 
 Jack. No one can say wrong of me then. 
 When Mark Runham comes into this place ' — 
 
 * Mark Runham will never be here.' 
 
 * He must be here, if this falls some day to 
 Kainie.' 
 
 ' That does not follow.' 
 
 22
 
 338 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' Of course it follows, if he marries Kainie.' 
 
 ' Mark — marry Kainie ? What do you 
 mean?' 
 
 ' I told you that Mark would have nothing 
 more to say to me, because he was bound to 
 another. I would not say to whom, for that 
 was his secret. But now he has let it out him- 
 self. He is going to take Kainie home to 
 Crumbland this evening.' 
 
 Drownlands started and threw over a chair. 
 
 ' You are mistaken. You do not know.' He 
 paced the room in agitation. 
 
 ' I do know,' answered Zita. ' It is because 
 he was bound to Kainie that he gave me up. 
 Now he is going to take her to him for better 
 for worse. Lawk ! how dull men are in these 
 matters — where girls see clear.' 
 
 ' You are greatly mistaken.' 
 
 ' No, I am not mistaken. How can you fail 
 to understand when he speaks so plain ? ' 
 
 Drownlands folded his arms and walked 
 hurriedly up and down the room. Presently 
 he turned to Zita and said, ' You are serious 
 when you say you will not have me make you 
 my heir?' 
 
 ' I am truly resolved,' answered the girl. 
 ' Then he can no more say that I have sold 
 myself body and soul for profits.' 
 
 ' Let no will be made.' 
 
 * That will not do. You must rewrite it, and 
 it must make Kainie your heir. Only on that
 
 WITH TOASTING FORKS 339 
 
 condition will I remain in this house with 
 you.' 
 
 'And you believe her to be your rival, who 
 has snatched Mark from your arms ? ' 
 
 ' I know it is so. He could not help himself. 
 He was tied to her.' 
 
 ' Mark is a Runham. A Runham may betray 
 a woman, but never marry one who has no 
 fortune.' 
 
 ' More is the reason why you should give one 
 to Kainie.' 
 
 ' Were I to make you my heir, — there is no 
 saying, — he might take you for the sake of this 
 place and my savings ; and, by Heaven, I will 
 have no Runham own acres of mine, if I can 
 prevent it ! ' 
 
 ' He Vv'ould not do that — he could not take 
 me. He is too just and true to throv/ over 
 Kainie. He may think ill of me, but I do not 
 think so badly of him. I tried to buy of her 
 the rights she had in him, but she would not 
 sell them. Then I saw it was all up between 
 Mark and me.' 
 
 ' This is strange — this is very strange ! ' said 
 Drownlands, turning a perplexed face on the 
 girl as he paced the room. ' I know what is in 
 a Runham better than you. The Runhams 
 marry for money, not for love. Come here, 
 Zita. What would you say were you to dis- 
 cover that you were mistaken about Mark and 
 Kainie?'
 
 340 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' I am not mistaken.' 
 
 ' Suppose, some day, that you found that he 
 was free ? ' 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 'And yet he would never marry you without 
 money. He would not be a Runham to do 
 that. If, however, he thought you were to be 
 my heir, he might do so, or wait till I am gone 
 and then take you ; but he will never think of 
 you if you are poor. Be it as you propose. I 
 will rewrite my will. I will leave to you nothing, 
 bequeath to Kainie all' 
 
 * Then I will remain with you.* 
 
 * As long as I live ? ' 
 She nodded her head. 
 
 ' You will swear to this ? ' 
 
 Her eyes were full, her bosom heaving ; she 
 held out both hands, and he clasped them. 
 
 ' I must go downstairs,' she said, after a 
 struggle to gain composure. ' The justices 
 will want their toasting-forks.' 
 
 ' Keep them amused for a while. They shall 
 witness my new will,' 
 
 Zita proceeded to her room, found the articles 
 that she had promised, and descended to the 
 sitting-room, where she found three of the 
 magistrates, all laymen ; the clerical members 
 of the Bench thinking it unecclesiastical to come 
 after toasting - forks. The red-faced chairman, 
 Mr. Christian, was there; Admiral Abbott; and 
 another, named Wilkins. They were all merry ;
 
 WITH TOASTING-FORKS 341 
 
 they had been drinking, and they felt sensible 
 reh'ef that they were not cumbered by the 
 presence of the ecclesiastical magistrates. They 
 were also conscious of great buoyancy of spirits, 
 due to the fact that they were beyond the 
 shadow of the towers of Ely, and no longer 
 within the numbing circle of cathedral decorum. 
 Zita's arrival was hailed uproariously, with 
 laughter and loud words. The gentlemen 
 jumped from their chairs, and with effusion 
 insisted on shaking hands. 
 
 'We've rode over,' said Mr. Christian, 'but 
 couldn't persuade Sir Bates to mount a horse 
 again. The very looks of one makes his colour 
 fade. Nothing would induce him — not the 
 prospect of a toasting-fork. I say, Abbott, if 
 we could have promised the canon a kiss of 
 those ruby lips, eh ? Would that have drawn 
 him? How now, you comical Jill? — you who 
 upset the dignity of the Court ! And to venture 
 on bribery and corruption — you pretty little 
 rogue ! We might have had you up. What 
 say you, Abbott? Shall we indict her for the 
 attempt to poison the springs of justice? It is 
 a case under common law. Fine or imprison- 
 ment? Which shall it be, Wilkins?' 
 
 ' Now, come,' said the magistrate addressed, 
 'no law here; we have had enough of that 
 to-day. Here are weapons. Arm thee, arm 
 thee, Sir Christian, knight of the blazing 
 countenance and the purple nose. Queen of
 
 34i CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Cheap Jacks, let your gay red-flowered kerchief 
 be the prize. I defy thee to the death, Christian. 
 Up with you on to the table, Queen of Cheap 
 Jacks, or upon the mantelshelf — anywhere away 
 from the clash of blades and the soil of battle. 
 Come on. Christian ! And after thee. Old Salt 
 the Admiral ; but, I^ord ! he will swash about 
 with his toasting-fork as if 'twere a cutlass. 
 Come on, Christian, and he who wins rides 
 home wearing her favour.' 
 
 Justice Wilkins brandished one of the toasting- 
 forks, and, putting himself in a posture of attack, 
 shouted again for his opponent. 
 
 Mr. Christian at once snatched and flourished 
 his weapon, and the two half-tipsy men began 
 to make passes at each other. 
 
 ' Bright eyes looking on ! A fair maid's 
 favour as the prize ! Ah, Christian, you're off 
 your guard ; you are using your foil wildly. 
 The man is drunk ! Heigh I To the heart ! I 
 have run you through ! Down with your blade, 
 sir 1 ' Wilkins shouted as he charged home, and 
 drove the toasting-fork up into the handle 
 against the breast of his adversary. ' Abbott ! 
 gallop off for Sir Bates! Make him come to 
 shrive Christian. Rest his soul ! he was a jolly 
 dog, but too fond of lasses and the bottle. 
 Admiral, help me ; we will compose his epitaph. 
 No, no, Christian, that is a breach of rules. 
 You're dead, man; dead as a stone, with a 
 stroke through your heart. Didn't you feel the
 
 WITH TOASTING-FORKS 343 
 
 toasting-fork tickle your ribs? Stand aside, or 
 lie dead on the hearthrug. You are out of the 
 game now. Come on, Admiral Abbott. It lies 
 between you and me ; Christian, you dog, you 
 are dead, and must not interfere. That stroke 
 will let some of the port wine out of your 
 gizzard. Keep in the rear — you are a dead 
 man. If you walk, it is your ghost. It is 
 Abbott's turn with me now.' 
 
 'Wilkins, your tongue runs away with you. 
 I'll cut it off and wear it in my hat. I'm your 
 man.' 
 
 Thereupon Admiral Abbott, armed with his 
 toasting - fork, strutted into the place lately 
 occupied by Christian. 
 
 * No,' said he ; ' Wilkins, you cheat ; you took 
 a scurvy advantage over my dear deceased 
 brother Christian. You shall not play me the 
 same trick. You have the window behind 
 you.' 
 
 ' I did not consider it. Change sides.' 
 
 ' No, I will not have the advantage over you 
 either. We will fight with the daylight athwart 
 our blades.' 
 
 ' Then the Queen of Cheap Jacks must shift 
 quarters, to see that all is fair.' 
 
 ' Let her shift,' said Abbott. * I am not 
 going to be killed or to kill you at a dis- 
 advantage. Ready 1 ' 
 
 The passage of arms between Wilkins and 
 Abbott was as brief as that betAveen him and
 
 344 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Christian. A stroke from the admiral, who 
 used his tool as a cutlass, bent the soft metal 
 of the toasting-fork of his opponent. 
 
 'Weapon broken. Surrender!' shouted 
 Abbott. 'Now, Wilkins, stand aside. I am 
 conqueror, and claim the red rag.' 
 
 ' That's a way to ask ! Like the bear you 
 are, Abbott. Down on one knee — I won't say 
 gracefully, for you can't do that— and ask in 
 courteous tone. Red rag indeed !— a crimson 
 favour.' 
 
 ' He can't kneel,' said Christian. * He'd never 
 get up if he were once down.' 
 
 'Admiral! I could swear the Cheap Jack 
 Queen has been crying. There are tears on 
 her cheek and a drench of rain in her 
 brown eyes. It is for you, Christian, you 
 lucky dog; you caused them to fall, because 
 I ran you through, and Her Royal Highness 
 weeps for her knight bleeding his life-tide 
 away,' 
 
 At this moment Drownlands entered the 
 room, and was saluted by the three magis- 
 trates. 
 
 'We have been fighting,' said the admiral, 
 'and I am the conqueror. If you are disposed 
 to part with the pretty housekeeper, I will carry 
 her off en croupe on my horse.' 
 
 Drownlands disdained an answer. 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' said he, ' now that you are here, 
 let me ask a favour of you. Pray put your
 
 WITH TOASTING-FORKS 345 
 
 hands to this paper and witness my signature 
 to this my last will and testament.' 
 
 ' I hope you have put the Queen of Cheap 
 Jacks down for something handsome. If you 
 have done that, we will sign cheerfully.' 
 
 * Not for a penny,' answered Drownlands. 
 'Everything I have goes to my niece. Here 
 is ink and here a pen. Gentlemen, this is my 
 true act and deed.' 
 
 ' My hand shakes,' said Christian ; ' I have 
 been laughing, and cannot hold a pen.' 
 
 'And mine is jarred,' said Wilkins, 'with 
 the thundering blows of that swashbuckler, 
 Abbott.' 
 
 Jesting, laughing, the three men complied 
 with the request of Drownlands, hardly re- 
 garding what they were about. 
 
 ' I say, Abbott,' said Wilkins, ' what was that 
 promise that fell from ruby lips relative to an 
 epergne?' 
 
 'We were to raffle for one,' said the admiral. 
 
 * Can't do it,' said Christian. ' We have not 
 got the others here. We'll hoist Bates on to a 
 horse and make him come another day, when 
 this confounded business of the riots is over.' 
 
 'You have got the favour, Abbott,' said 
 Wilkins, 'but not by fair swordsmanship. 
 Whether you carry it to Ely is another matter. 
 Christian, shall he hoist it at the end of his 
 toasting-fork and ride? We'll give him a 
 hundred yards, and then pursue, and he who
 
 346 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 overtakes, captures the favour and carries it 
 into the city.' 
 
 ' Done — we'll race the admiral for it.' Then, 
 turning to Zita, ' We'll come another day and 
 raffle for the epergne at a guinea apiece. The 
 pool goes to you. Now then, brother justices, 
 away we go ! *
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 THE JACK O' LANTERNS 
 
 « 'nr^AKE it, and keep it,' said Drownlands, 
 
 1 handing the will to Zita. ' You can read. 
 It is as you desired, and on the same condition 
 as before. That is as you promised.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said the girl ; * with that I am content.' 
 
 She put the will in her bosom. 
 
 'Then,' said Drownlands in a tone of sad 
 bitterness, ' for life and till death we are united.' 
 
 ' After a fashion, to keep apart' 
 
 ' Yes, united to be separate.' 
 
 • Like a pair of wheels,' said Zita. ' They 
 keep the concern going, but have it always 
 between them.' 
 
 The day had closed in, and Zita retired to her 
 room to sit at the window and look out at the 
 dead uniformity of the fen, and the white line of 
 horizon between it and the darkness above, like 
 a white fringe to a pall. She desired solitude, 
 that she might review what was past. 
 
 The weather was cold. There had been 
 
 S47
 
 348 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 frost, hard and biting, and the ice clad the 
 water. The snow that had been spread over 
 the land had in part disappeared, licked up by 
 the dry wind that scaled the waters, and the 
 land from whiteness had turned to blackness. 
 
 The lakes of frozen water would have attracted 
 many skaters during the day, had not the en- 
 grossing excitement relative to the trial of the 
 rioters engaged the public attention. 
 
 The frost had set in with redoubled hardness 
 on the morrow of the riot, and in four days even 
 the Lark was turned to stone within its embank- 
 ments. 
 
 As Zita looked out into the night, she could 
 see the heavy sky, burdened with black clouds, 
 that were ragged as a torn fringe, or a moth- 
 eaten pall, about the black hard bank of the 
 river, that stood up sharply against the sky. 
 
 The cold was so biting in the fireless room 
 that Zita drew the velvet curtains about her, 
 which were suspended over her window, covered 
 her shoulders, and wrapped them about her 
 bosom. There was no light in the room save 
 the wan reflection from the horizon. Had there 
 been, she would have formed a pretty picture, 
 folded in crimson velvet, with her oval face and 
 dark amber hair peeping out of the folds. 
 
 She looked dreamily through the window. 
 
 A wave of regret had come over her after the 
 exaltation caused by the sense of self-sacrifice. 
 
 She considered how that she had loved Mark,
 
 THE JACK O' LANTERNS 349 
 
 had valued his regard for herself, had delighted 
 in his society. He had never said to her that 
 he loved her, yet there had been a look in his 
 blue eyes, a pressure of his fingers when he 
 took her hand, a softness of intonation in his 
 voice when he spoke to her, that had said more 
 than words, that had assured her heart that she 
 was dear to him. And how happy she had been 
 when she believed that ! A solitary child, with 
 no belongings and belonging to none, a waif 
 thrown upon the desolate fens, she had found 
 herself lifted into a new region of brightness. 
 Then Mark had become cool, and had held 
 aloof from her. She had discovered that he was 
 engaged to Kainie, and could not become dis- 
 entangled from this tie. He had been constrained 
 to resign himself to it. Now his interest, his 
 sympathies, were enlisted on behalf of that girl, 
 because she was treated with injustice and was 
 exposed to danger. Now he was about to take 
 Kainie to his house — now, this very evening. 
 
 A feeling of resentment against the girl who 
 stood between herself and happiness swelled in 
 Zita's heart ; Kainie threw down the palace of 
 delight she had built up in the cloudland of 
 hope and fancy. Kainie snatched Mark from 
 her ; and it was for Kainie that she — Zita — had 
 given up the inheritance offered her by Drown- 
 lands. 
 
 In the darkness Zita's brow darkened. Angry 
 feelings surged in her bosom and sent waves of
 
 350 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 fire through her pulses. She would defy the 
 world. What need she care for the chatter of 
 slanderous tongues? Conscious of her own in- 
 tegrity, she would brave public opinion. 
 
 She snatched the will from her bosom, that 
 she might tear it in pieces, and then she would 
 run to the master and bid him make another in 
 her own favour, as first proposed. Why should 
 she not be his heir? 
 
 If Kainie robbed her of Mark, might not she 
 retaliate and take from her the inheritance of 
 Drownlands ? 
 
 If she were struck, might she not strike back ? 
 Did Kainie need lands and houses? As Mark's 
 wife, she would be rich without her uncle's estate 
 added to Crumbland, whereas she — Zita — had 
 not a particle of soil on which to set her foot 
 and say it v^as her own. Had not the master of 
 Prickwillow a right to do what he would with 
 his own ? Kainie had done nothing for him, 
 and she — Zita — was devoting her life to his 
 service. 
 
 As she looked out of the window, musing on 
 these things, she saw that the light on the 
 horizon had faded, or that the great curtain of 
 cloud had set over it and had obscured it. 
 Something, where she believed that the em- 
 bankment ran, now attracted, without greatly 
 engaging, her attention. 
 
 A minute flash of light travelled a little dis- 
 tance, and was then extinguished. Presently
 
 THE JACK O' LANTERNS 351 
 
 another wavering speck appeared, and then 
 again all was dark. 
 
 ' The Jack o' Lanterns are about/ said Zita. 
 
 Her thoughts recurred to her troubles. 
 
 A recoil of better feeling set in and washed 
 over her heart. 
 
 * No,' said she, ' I could not have borne it. 
 It would have killed me to have Mark believe 
 that I was sold body and soul. Let him take 
 Kainie. and with Kainie let him have Prick- 
 willow when it falls ; — but let him not think ill 
 of me.' 
 
 She started up. She replaced the will in her 
 bosom. 
 
 * I will go to Red Wings,' she said. ' He is 
 there with Kainie. He said he would take her 
 away this night. I will go and tell him all. I 
 will show him what I have here ; ' she touched 
 her bosom where lay the will. ' When he has 
 heard my story and has seen that, he will think 
 better of me.' 
 
 She descended the staircase. At the foot she 
 found the master, 
 
 'There are Jack o' Lanterns in the fens,' she 
 said. 
 
 ' Folks say that they have seen them,' he 
 replied. ' I never have. They were plentiful 
 before so much marsh was reclaimed.' 
 
 ' I have seen them,' said Zita. 
 
 ' Pshaw J ' laughed he. ' There are no Jack of 
 Lanterns in winter Whither are you going? '
 
 352 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 * On the embankment ; perhaps on the ice. 
 I wish to be alone.' 
 
 She drew a shawl over her head and opened 
 the door. Drownlands followed her to the 
 doorstep. 
 
 At that moment he also for a moment saw a 
 twinkle on the embankment. 
 
 * That is what you call Jack o' Lanterns,' said 
 he. ' It is some ganger going home. Shall I 
 attend you ? ' 
 
 ' I desire to be alone.' 
 
 Then Drownlands went within, and Zita 
 walked on till she reached the highway that ran 
 below the embankment. It was so dark there 
 that she mounted the steep slope, so as to have 
 the advantage of what little light still hung in 
 the sky and was reflected by the frozen surface 
 of the river. 
 
 As she ascended, an uneasy sensation came 
 over her — a feeling that she was in the presence 
 of human beings whom she neither saw nor 
 heard. She stood still, listening. Then, step- 
 ping forward, she was again conscious that she 
 was close upon some invisible person. Feeling 
 alarmed, Zita was about to retrace her steps, 
 when a light was flashed in her eyes and a hand 
 grasped her shoulder. Thereupon a voice said 
 in a low tone, ' It is that wench of Drownlands'.' 
 Then she was aware that several men sur- 
 rounded her. They had been crouching on the 
 ground for concealment, at the sound of her
 
 THE JACK O' LANTERNS 353 
 
 approaching foot. Now they rose and pressed 
 about her. She could distinguish that these 
 were all men, and that they had black kerchiefs 
 over their faces with holes cut in them, through 
 which their eyes peered. One alone was not so 
 disguised, and he it was who spoke to her. 
 
 ' Unhappy girl ! You do not return. Go 
 your ways along the bank, and no harm will be 
 done to you. We have no quarrel with you, but 
 we have with your master. This night we strike 
 off a score, pay a debt' 
 
 The voice was that of Ephraim Beamish. 
 
 ' Throw her in. Send her under the ice. She's 
 a bad lot,' said one of the men. 
 
 ' Make an end of all that belongs to Tiger Ki,' 
 said another. 
 
 * We do not fight with women,' said Beamish. 
 ' She shall go, but not return to Prickwillow.' 
 
 ' What are you about ? What harm are you 
 doing?' asked Zita. 
 
 ' We are serving out chastisement to your 
 master for what he has done to our lads,' 
 answered Pip. 
 
 * You will not hurt him ? ' 
 ' Not in person.' 
 
 ' What, then, will you do ? ' 
 
 ' Go your way. We are letting the water out 
 over his land.' 
 
 Ephraim conducted Zita a little way along 
 the tow-path on the bank. 
 
 ' Attend to me,' said he. * Go anywhere you 
 
 23
 
 354 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 will except back to Prickvvillow. We have our 
 men drawn across the way. You cannot pass, 
 it is in vain for you to attempt it. Keep to the 
 bank, and keep at a distance from us.' 
 
 ' Where is Mark Runham ? ' 
 
 ' I have not seen him.' 
 
 ' He is not in this affair with you ? * 
 
 ' Mark ? of course he is not. He knows 
 nothing of our purpose.' 
 
 Zita advanced along the path. She was 
 uneasy; desirous, if possible, to warn Drown- 
 lands. 
 
 Presently she heard a rush of water. 
 
 She turned, and was caught almost immedi- 
 ately by one of the men. 
 
 * It is of no use your attempting to go home,' 
 he said. ' It is of no use your thinking of telling 
 Tiger Ki to be on his guard. It is now too 
 late.' The man took her wrist and said, ' Go 
 your way, but take care not to step on the ice — 
 not as you value your life.' 
 
 ' The ice ? — why so ? ' 
 
 ' Listen.' 
 
 A shrill whine — then a crash. The icy surface 
 of the Lark had split, then gone down in frag- 
 ments under its own weight, as the water that 
 had sustained it was withdrawn.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 A RETURN BLOW 
 
 ZITA hurried along the tow-path. Her mind 
 was in a tumult. The full force of the 
 words of Ephraim she could not understand. 
 He and his comrades were letting the waters of 
 the river Lark over Drownlands' farm, that she 
 knew ; but to what an extent they would over- 
 flow, and what amount of injury they might do, 
 that was what she was incapable of judging. 
 It was a relief to her mind that no personal 
 violence was contemplated. The water that 
 was let out could be pumped back again. 
 The Fens were wont to be flooded at times, 
 and the mills could always throw the flood from 
 off them. 
 
 It was natural that her thoughts should revert 
 to certain words that had been dropped by the 
 men — words that had fallen on her ears like 
 drops of fire. Why had Pip Beamish spoken to 
 her as an ' unhappy girl ' ? Why had she been 
 referred to as 'belonging to Drownlands,' as 
 
 866
 
 356 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 • Tiger Ki's wench ' ? The tone in which these 
 words had been used had conveyed more insult 
 than the words themselves. They implied that 
 she was sold, as Mark had said, body and soul, 
 to the master of Prickwillow. Mark was not 
 alone in his ill opinion of her. 
 
 How had this opinion come to be formed ? 
 Surely not from the fact that she was staying 
 on in the house where she had been sheltered 
 when her father died ? Every one must know 
 that it was impossible for her to leave it, unless 
 she deserted her van and her wares. 
 
 There had been nothing in Drownlands' con- 
 duct towards her in public to breed this opinion. 
 The spring of the scandal must have been in 
 Leehanna Tunkiss. That woman had viewed 
 the presence of Zita at Prickwillow with jealousy, 
 and had come to hate her. 
 
 In the first gush of womanly sympathy with 
 a forlorn child, left solitary, bereaved of her only 
 parent, the housekeeper had urged Zita to accept 
 the hospitality offered her, and had welcomed 
 her when she transferred herself from the van in 
 the outhouse into a room in the farm dwelling. 
 But no sooner did the keen eye of Leehanna 
 observe that Drownlands watched Zita with 
 interest, and that the girl was acquiring an 
 extraordinary influence over him, than her envy 
 was roused, and she was filled with alarm lest 
 her own position should be undermined, and she 
 should have to make way for the girl whom she
 
 A RETURN BLOW 357 
 
 had so readily taken under the shelter of Prick- 
 willow roof. 
 
 Zita had not failed to notice the growing 
 malevolence exhibited towards her by this 
 woman. She had endeavoured to keep out of 
 her way, but had not laid much store on her 
 ill-humour. Now she saw, or suspected, that 
 Leehanna had been poisoning the minds of the 
 neighbourhood against her, and she had little 
 doubt that the alienation of Mark was due in a 
 measure to the slanders of Mrs. Tunkiss. 
 
 Presently Zita saw the light that shone from 
 Kainie's window. The girl had not as yet 
 deserted her habitation. A little muslin blind 
 was drawn across the casement, and the candle- 
 light shone hazily through that. During the 
 frost, when the waters were chained down, the 
 windmills were not worked, so that there was 
 no immediate necessity for a successor to take 
 the place of the girl-miller. No doubt that 
 Mark would inform the Commissioners that 
 Kainie's charge of the mill was at an end, and 
 that it was incumbent on them to immediately 
 look out for a successor. But Kainie had not 
 as yet departed, though it might be she was 
 preparing for her ' flitting.' 
 
 Had Mark come for her? Was he with her 
 now? Or was she sitting in her cottage with 
 throbbing heart, waiting for him to arrive? 
 
 Was it a fact that Mark Runham grasped at 
 money? It was not true. Drownlands had
 
 35^ CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 charged him falsely in that. He was taking 
 Kainie, who had nothing. With a twinge, Zita 
 thought how that she herself was enriching her 
 rival with what might, had she willed it, become 
 her own. With a sickness at heart, Zita looked 
 forward to the day when Kainie would join the 
 acres of Prickwillow to those of Crumbland, and 
 bid Zita go forth a wanderer and destitute — and 
 it was her own doing. 
 
 Was she one who sold body and soul for 
 profits? She might have been Drownlands' 
 wife ; she had refused this. She might have 
 been his heir ; she had refused that : and Kainie 
 reaped all the advantages that sprang out of 
 her refusals. 
 
 No ! There was something that was dearer 
 to Zita even than profits. 
 
 As Zita approached Red Wings, the dog, 
 standing on the brick platform, began to bark. 
 Zita called to him, and he came to her bounding. 
 On her former visits she had brought Wolf 
 something in her pocket. Now that he reached 
 her, he thrust his nose into her hand beseechingly. 
 
 She halted at the tuft of thorn-bushes and 
 flags below the platform, and seated herself 
 there, throwing her arm round the dog. She 
 would not present herself at the door of the hut, 
 and receive a rough greeting from Kainie. She 
 would wait and see whether Mark were there 
 before she made her presence known. The 
 explanation she had to make, the story to tell,
 
 A RETURN BLOW 359 
 
 she would in preference make and tell to Mark. 
 She did not forget that she had struck Kainie, 
 and she knew that her chances of placing her 
 conduct in a favourable light were greater with 
 a man than with a woman, 
 
 A dark figure of a man issued from the 
 cottage door and stood on the platform, looking 
 round. After a moment he went back to the 
 door, saying — 
 
 ' There is no one that I can see, but the night 
 is dark, Kainie.' 
 
 The voice was that of Mark. 
 
 He did not re-enter the cottage, but, standing 
 where he was, he said — 
 
 ' Come, Kainie, it is time for us to be off. My 
 mother is expecting you.' 
 
 The girl issued from the hovel. 
 
 ' Mark,' said she, ' has she really consented to 
 receive me ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, she has.' 
 
 'Yet I know that she has refused to see me, 
 and even to hear about me.' 
 
 ' That is true, but now she has given way. I 
 could not allow you to remain here. I took a 
 firm stand with my mother, and she admitted 
 that I was right, and yielded. Now, have you 
 got all ready for the sledge ? ' 
 
 ' I have packed everything.' 
 
 'Then jump on to the sleigh, and I will run 
 you along upon the ice, which is in prime 
 condition.'
 
 36o CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 Zita's arm convulsively nipped the dog. 
 
 How happy she had been on that day when 
 Mark had run her along on the ice on the same 
 bones that were now to bear her successful rival ! 
 
 Wolf protested against the pressure of her 
 arm by a growl. 
 
 ' Where are you, Wolf? ' called Mark. 
 
 Zita released the dog, and he sprang upon the 
 platform. 
 
 ' I wonder what the old fellow means,' said the 
 young man. ' He does not usually give false 
 alarms. I daresay he's puzzled at our proceed- 
 ings. Something affecting his interests is in 
 view, Kainie, and he can't understand it. It 
 is so dark one can't see far ; but had any one 
 been coming, he would have given tongue 
 lustily.' 
 
 ' Perhaps it may be Pip.' 
 
 ' Pip will have to be careful for the next day 
 or two. If he be caught, 'twill go hard with 
 him for certain.' 
 
 ' But you will get him away from the Fens ? ' 
 
 * Yes. I am making arrangements. If he 
 can keep hidden for a few more days and 
 nights, I shall have managed matters, and be 
 able to clear him off; to clear him not only 
 from the Fens, but out of England. Now, how- 
 ever, we must think of you. Take with you 
 only such traps as you need immediately, and 
 which you can carry in your arms or on your 
 lap. I'll return for the rest to-morrow.'
 
 A RETURN BLOW 361 
 
 * I shall leave the fire burning and the light 
 on the table.' 
 
 ' Yes, for Pip when he comes. Folk will think 
 nothing of seeing the light, making sure it is 
 yours. He can hide here till I am ready to send 
 him away ; and Wolf shall remain to give him 
 notice if any one approaches. I'll tie him up.' 
 
 Kainie re-entered the cottage, and Mark pro- 
 ceeded to tie Wolf by a piece of twine that he 
 had in his pocket. 
 
 Whilst he was thus engaged, Kainie came out 
 with her little package, and stood watching the 
 proceedings of the young man. 
 
 The dog was restless, and objected to being 
 fastened. 
 
 ' Don't be angry with me, Mark,' said Kainie, 
 * if I ask you a question.' 
 
 ' No ; what may it be ? ' 
 
 ' It concerns that wretched creature — that 
 Cheap Jack girl. You were rather taken with 
 her at first, Mark, till you found out what she 
 was. You are quite sure you don't fancy her no 
 longer?' 
 
 The young fellow had been stooping over the 
 dog. He stood up and said gravely — 
 
 ' Kainie ! I regard her now no more than I do 
 the dirt under my soles.' 
 
 ' Hark ! what is that ? ' 
 
 The sound was that of a gasp or sob. 
 
 ' There is certainly some one here,' said Mark 
 ' Bring a light.'
 
 362 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 ' You need not,' said Zita, rising from behind 
 tlie thorns. ' It is I.' 
 
 ' You here, Zita ? ' 
 
 ' Yes. I heard what you said of me. 
 
 ' I am sorry for that' 
 
 ' It is cruelly false.' 
 
 ' I cannot go into that matter. What has 
 brought you here at this time o' night?' 
 
 'What has brought her here?' repeated 
 Kainie. 'There is no need to ask that, Mark; 
 the wretched creature is running after you.' 
 
 * You must go back,' said the young man. 
 
 ' Yes, go back — to your dear master,' sneered 
 Kainie. 
 
 ' I must speak. I must justify myself,' said 
 Zita, with vehemence. ' You wrong me in your 
 thoughts ; you wrong me in your words. I am 
 not what you suppose. I am not a bold, bad 
 girl. I do not sell myself for profits. I am in 
 Drownlands' house because I cannot help my- 
 self. I have nowhere else whither to go. Why 
 should you and Kainie believe evil of me? 
 Why should '— 
 
 ' I cannot argue with you,' said Mark. * This 
 is not the place ; this is not the time. I am 
 sorry for you. I can say no more. I thought 
 better of you once.' 
 
 'Go, you Cheap Jackess,' said Kainie. 'Un- 
 less you had a heart lost to shame, you'd not 
 have come here after Mark at night' 
 
 * You misjudge me in this as in other things/
 
 A RETURN BLOW 363 
 
 said Zita, bursting into tears. ' I came here for 
 your good.' 
 
 ' That's a fine tale,' sneered Kainie. * We 
 want no good from you, nor do we expect figs 
 of thistles or grapes of thorns.' 
 
 Mark said nothing, but stepped from the 
 platform. 
 
 ' I entreat you to listen to me,' said Zita, 
 catching his arm. ' It is not true that Drown- 
 lands has left me everything.' 
 
 ' I cannot attend to this now,' said he, disen- 
 gaging himself from her grasp. But she again 
 seized him. 
 
 ' Unsay what you said ! ' she exclaimed. Her 
 anger was rising and overmastering her grief. 
 ' Unsay those ugly words — that I am the dirt 
 under your feet' 
 
 ' I said — but never mind. I regret that you 
 overheard me use such an expression.' 
 
 ' That is not unsaying it.' 
 
 Kainie came up and struck Zita with the full 
 force of her heavy hand across the face. 
 
 ' Take that,' she said ; ' I have owed it you. 
 Now the debt is repaid.' 
 
 Then she stepped on the ice with a ' Mark, I 
 am ready.' 
 
 ' Go ! ' cried Zita in towering wrath, stung 
 with pain, maddened with humiliation. ' Go — 
 go under the ice, both of you ! I care not ! 1 
 care not ! '
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 A CATHERINE WHEEL 
 
 THE words were hardly out of Zita's mouth 
 before they were repented. The anger, 
 the desire for revenge, which had spurted up in 
 her heart, was abated as rapidly as it had risen. 
 
 Once before she had spoken in violence of 
 anger, and had speedily contradicted her words 
 by her acts. She had bidden Mark go and be 
 hanged or transported for aught she cared ; 
 yet no sooner did she learn that he was in actual 
 danger, than she had interfered to deliver him. 
 She had fought for him with Drownlands, and 
 had thrust herself into the witness-box to 
 exculpate him. 
 
 Stinging now under the moral pain of the 
 sense of wrong done to her, that wounded her in 
 her honour, stinging also under the physical pain 
 caused by the blow of Kainie, a girl for whom 
 she had made the greatest sacrifices, in a blind 
 and inconsiderate explosion of resentment, she 
 had allowed Mark and Kainie, unwarned of their 
 
 Z6i
 
 A CATHERINE WHEEL 365 
 
 danger, to commit themselves to the treacherous 
 ice. 
 
 Repentance came too late. The words had 
 been spoken which hinted danger, but the hint 
 was too vague to be regarded, even to be under- 
 stood. Mark had started, running Kainie on 
 his sledge over the polished surface of the 
 channel, before Zita had recovered herself and 
 realised what would be the consequences of her 
 neglect. 
 
 Then, with a cry, the girl ran along the bank. 
 She called to Mark, imploring him to return. 
 She called, telling him that the ice was broken. 
 Then she stayed, out of breath, her pulses 
 bounding, the sweat streaming off her brow, and 
 the tears racing down her cheeks. 
 
 She found that it was not possible for her to 
 catch up the sledge, that flew like a swallow 
 over the glassy ice, and which was invisible in 
 the darkness. She found that the wind was 
 blowing in her face, and carrying her voice 
 behind her, away from those whose attention she 
 desired to arrest. 
 
 In her despair, she threw herself on her knees 
 and beat her head and breast. 
 
 * I am worse than what they thought of me ! 
 I am worse than that murderer Drownlands. 
 He killed one, and I kill two. Oh that I had 
 died in their place !' 
 
 Again she sprang to her feet, and again she 
 cried to those who were speeding far away, and
 
 J 
 
 66 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 bade them return. She was sensible, as she 
 called, that she could do nothing to arrest them 
 in their course. The horror of the situation was 
 insupportable, and in a wave of despair that 
 swept over her, Zita was ready to fling herself 
 into the canal. 
 
 There are moments of life when instantane- 
 ously a whole prospect opens before the inner 
 eye — call that eye what you will. In a second 
 of time Zita saw the consequences of her neglect 
 mirrored before her with intense and terrible 
 vividness. It was as though the whole sequence 
 of events that must follow was unrolled before 
 her eye, and, clear as in broadest day, she saw 
 the sledge, propelled by Mark, approach the 
 dangerous spot where the arch of ice stood 
 unsupported, and when the additional weight was 
 thrown on it, must come crashing down. She 
 heard the whine of the cracking surface, as the 
 sleigh reached it. She saw the whole mass of 
 ice, together with sleigh, Mark, and Kainie, go 
 down with a crash, impelled by the velocity of 
 the pace at which they had been going — saw 
 them shoot under the water, and the sheets of 
 fractured ice that encumbered the surface of the 
 shrunken river. She heard the cry of Mark, the 
 scream of Kainie. She saw them battling with 
 their hands beneath the surface. It was to her 
 as though she were looking from above on the 
 glassy sheet that lay broken, but yet encasing 
 the water. She could see through it, and watch
 
 A CATHERINE WHEEL 367 
 
 the expiring efforts of Mark and Kainie, behold 
 them struggling with their hands to break 
 through or push aside the ice-plate that lay 
 between their mouths and air. She could see 
 their straining eyes fixed reproachfully on her 
 through the transparent screen. In her fancy 
 she was now running and beckoning to the only 
 patch of open water through which escape was 
 possible. And yet they would not attend ; 
 either they misunderstood her signals, or they 
 mistrusted her motives. 
 
 She beheld how their efforts relaxed, their 
 palms patted listlessly against the ice, their 
 fingers picked with feeble effort at the cracks, 
 how the light of intelligence died out of their 
 eyes, how their lips gasped and drew in water. 
 
 Then to her fancy they went down, Kainie 
 first, Mark next. 
 
 After that there rose about her, as a cloud, a 
 mass of black figures, pointing at her with their 
 fingers, and from every finger-point flashed an 
 electric spark. 
 
 ' Murderess — double murderess ! Thou who 
 didst judge Drownlands, judge thine own self. 
 Thou who didst condemn, condemn thyself.' 
 
 Then Wolf came to her. He had gnawed 
 through the cord that had bound him. 
 
 Zita clasped him round the neck. 
 
 ' Oh, Wolf I Wolf I ' she cried. ' Go after them 
 ■ — fly — stay them. Snap at Mark's clothes, 
 Bite Kainie. Hold them back ! '
 
 368 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 She indicated the direction that the sledge had 
 taken, and the dog ran out on the ice. 
 
 Zita looked after him. Would he be able to 
 track them on the frozen sheet? Would the 
 scent lie on the congealed water ? 
 
 If Wolf did come up with his mistress and 
 Mark, would he be able to arrest their course ? 
 Did he understand the message, the order given 
 him ? Would he, bounding forward in advance 
 of the sledge, discover for himself the danger 
 that lay ahead, and come back and warn them ? 
 
 Should this attempt to stay the sleigh fail, 
 were there no other means available ? 
 
 Then an idea flashed through the brain of 
 Zita. There remained one chance of staying 
 their career. 
 
 Instantly Zita ran to the hut, burst open the 
 door, and, seizing the mattress of Kainie's bed, 
 dragged it forth across the platform, and threw 
 it under the stationary sails of the mill. 
 
 Then she went back to the cottage, and, 
 gathering up the red embers of the fire in a 
 shovel, ran with them forth again, and threw 
 them upon the straw mattress. 
 
 Next she stood, shovel in hand, waiting the 
 result, watching as the fire burnt its way through 
 the ticking and buried itself in the straw. 
 
 For a moment there ensued a red glare — an 
 eating outward of the ticking by fiery teeth — 
 then a ghost-like flame leaped up, and wavered 
 above the incandescent mass. It threw itself
 
 A CATHERINE WHEEL 369 
 
 high into the air, as though it were independent 
 of the fire below, then returned and dipped its 
 feet in the red ashes. With the shovel Zita 
 stirred the ignited mass. Then the mattress 
 broke into flame, and the flame reared itself in 
 many tongues, swayed with the wind, curled 
 over, broke into a multitude of orange fire-flashes 
 that capered and pirouetted about the glowing 
 heart of fire, as though the fabled Salamanders 
 had manifested themselves, and rejoiced in 
 being able to dance in their proper element. In 
 another moment the flames had ignited the sail 
 that hung above them, and were racing each 
 other up the canvas, 
 
 Zita sped to the clog. She had learned from 
 Kainie how a windmill was to be set in motion, 
 and how the revolution of the sails was to be 
 arrested, on the first visit she had paid to Red 
 Wings. She now raised the clog, and with a 
 sigh and creak the arms began to turn. As 
 they did so, the sail which was on fire swept 
 from the bed of flames that had kindled it, and 
 was replaced by another. Instantly Zita stopped 
 the revolution, to allow it also to be kindled. In 
 like manner she treated the remaining sails, and 
 when all blazed, she allowed them to spin un- 
 hampered in the breeze. 
 
 A wondrous sight in the black night! The 
 
 mill sails whirling in the freezing blast sent 
 
 forth streamers of flame and a rain of sparks. 
 
 Every now and then there dropped from them 
 
 24
 
 370 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 incandescent tears. They roared as they went 
 round, forming, as they rotated on the axle, a 
 mighty wheel of dazzling light. Zita stood 
 looking up at her work, and for a moment forgot 
 the occasion of the setting fire to the wheel 
 in the overwhelming effect produced by the 
 brilliancy of the spectacle. The wind not only 
 made the canvas glare, but kindled as well the 
 stretchers of lath to which it was fastened, and 
 the mainbeams likewise. The ties by which the 
 sail-cloth was fastened were of tarred cord. As 
 the fire consumed a portion, the rest slipped 
 forth, and flew away in lurid lines of light. 
 
 The platform was illumined, as though ablaze 
 of July sun had fallen on it. The window-panes 
 of the cottage were transmuted into flakes of 
 gold-leaf. The dykes reflected the flashing sails, 
 and shot the light along in streaks through the 
 dark fen into the outer darkness beyond. 
 
 A number of bats that had been harboured by 
 the old mill, and were sleeping through the 
 winter, were roused by the light, quickened by 
 the heat, and came forth in flights, dazed, to 
 flit on leather wings about the platform, to dart 
 into the wheel of fire, and to fly back scorched, 
 and to fall crippled at Zita's feet. 
 
 Wolf came up cowering. He had been unable 
 to trace the course of his mistress on the ice, 
 and he crouched moaning at Zita's feet, his eyes 
 watching the fiery revolutions, but ever and 
 anon starting back with a snap and a whine
 
 A CATHERINE WHEEL 371 
 
 as some disabled bat clawed at him, and 
 endeavoured to scramble up his side. 
 
 Would the whole mill fall a prey to the 
 flames ? 
 
 Ignited, molten tar was flung off as fire dross 
 by the whirling sails, masses of burning canvas 
 were carried off on the wind. The sails for 
 a while moved more slowly. The canvas was in 
 part consumed, but the flame itself seemed to 
 form a sheet over the ribs, and incite the wind 
 to act with redoubled force ; for again, with 
 renewed activity, the great arms continued their 
 rotation. 
 
 Every rush in the dyke was made visible, 
 standing out as a rod of burnished gold, and the 
 withered tassels of seed glowed scarlet, against 
 a background of night made doubly sombre by 
 the dazzHng splendour of the burning mill sails. 
 
 The boarded and tarred body of the mill was 
 changed in the lurid glare into a structure of 
 red copper. In the heat given off by the wings, 
 the tar dissolved and ran down from the 
 movable cap, as though the great bulk of the 
 mill were sweating in an agony of fear lest the 
 fire should reach and consume it also. 
 
 A barn-owl hovered aloft, and the glare 
 smote on its white breast and under-wings. It 
 to-whooed in its terror, and its cry could be 
 heard above the rush of the sails and the roar 
 of the flames. 
 
 There were other sounds that combined with
 
 372 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 the hooting of the owl, the rush of the sails and 
 of the fire. The mechanism of the mill was in 
 motion ; the huge axle revolved and throbbed 
 like a great pulse running through the body of 
 the structure, the wheels creaked and groaned, 
 the paddles laboured to drive the water up the 
 incline, and the water when it came produced 
 strange sounds beneath the ice, gasps and gulps. 
 It was as though the dykes were sobbing at the 
 combustion and destruction of the engine which 
 had so long and so steadily laboured to drain 
 them. 
 
 When the fire reached iron and copper nails 
 and bands, and heated the metals to white heat, 
 they became incandescent, and gave forth 
 streams of green and blue flame, that glowed 
 with the marigold yellow and tiger-lily red of 
 the blazing wood and tar, forming of the fiery 
 circle a rainbow complete in its prismatic tints. 
 The clouds that passed overhead were flushed 
 and palpitated, reflecting the fire below. 
 
 Notwithstanding the anguish of mind that 
 possessed Zita, her anxiety for the fate of Mark 
 and Kainie, and her self-reproach, she was 
 carried away, out of all such thoughts, by the 
 transcendent splendour of the spectacle. She 
 stood looking up at the wheel of light, with 
 hands clasped to her bosom, hardly breathing, 
 her face illumined as though she had been 
 looking into the sun. 
 
 Then, suddenly, a hand was laid roughly on
 
 A CATHERINE WHEEL 373 
 
 her shoulder, and an agitated voice said in her 
 ear, * Good heavens ! what have you done ? — 
 wicked, malignant girl ! ' 
 
 Zita dropped on her knees, with a cry of 
 mingled joy and pain. 
 
 * Thank God ! they are saved ! ' 
 
 She stooped and hid her face in her skirt 
 about her knees. The revulsion of feeling was 
 more than she could bear. She gasped for 
 breath. She came to a full stop in sensation 
 and thought. She could not rise, speak, nor 
 look up. Then relief from acute tension of the 
 mind found itself a way in a flood of tears, and 
 broken words of no meaning and without con- 
 nection were sobbed forth, and muffled in her 
 gown. 
 
 When, finally, she did raise her head, and 
 gather her dazed faculties, and wipe the water 
 from her eyes, she saw that Mark and Kainie 
 were forcing the head of the mill round, so as 
 no longer to present the sails to the wind, but 
 make them face away from it, so as to lessen 
 the danger to the body of the mill, which might 
 at any moment ignite when flame and sparks 
 were swept over it. 
 
 They then put on the clog and stopped the 
 movement of the charred arms. 
 
 This was almost all that could be done. 
 They trusted that the arms would burn them- 
 selves out without the axle catching fire. 
 
 ' Kainie,' said Mark, ' I'll run a rope up and
 
 374 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 throw it over the axle, and you can pass me up 
 buckets of water.' 
 
 Then he came to where Zita knelt. Kainie 
 was at his side. 
 
 * You infamous creature ! ' said Kainie. ' Why 
 did you do it?' 
 
 ' To save you and Mark.' 
 
 ' To save us ? That is a fine story.' 
 They had let out the water, and the ice is 
 broken up.' 
 
 ' Let out what water ? ' asked Mark. 
 
 ' The water of the river.' 
 
 ' Who have done this ? ' 
 
 ' Why, Pip and some other men.' 
 
 ' Zita,' said Mark, * what do you mean ? Is 
 there any truth in this ? ' 
 
 'It is true, indeed,' she answered. 'They 
 have done it to revenge themselves on Mr. 
 Drownlands, because he gave evidence against 
 some of their comrades.' 
 
 ' This is very serious,' said Mark. 
 
 ' It is quite true. They would not allow me 
 to go back to Prickwillow. I tried, but they 
 stopped me, and forced me to come on this way. 
 I could not warn the master. And they told 
 me to keep off the ice. As I came along, I 
 heard it scream and crack, and go down in a 
 mass together.' 
 
 * Why did you not tell me this before ? ' 
 'You would not listen to me. You said cruel 
 
 things of me, and Kainie struck me in the face.'
 
 A CATHERINE WHEEL 375 
 
 'And why did you set the mill on fire ?' 
 
 'To force you to come back. I did not care 
 about your danger till too late. I ran after 
 you, you could not hear me. I knew that if 
 you saw fire at the mill you would return. 
 Nothing but that could bring you back.' 
 
 Mark was silent for a moment. Then, with 
 emotion in his voice, he said — 
 
 'Zita, I believe we have wronged you 
 grievously.' 
 
 ' No,' answered the girl, ' it was I who wronged 
 you. I let you go, and said. Go under the ice 
 and be drowned, I did not care.' 
 
 ' I did not hear you.' 
 
 ' I said it — instead of telling you of your 
 danger. I was angry — very angry, and I was 
 hurt by Kainie — but ' — she hesitated, her voice 
 faltered — 'at the bottom of all was this — I was 
 jealous.' 
 
 * Jealous ? Jealous of whom ? ' 
 
 * Mark, you had been so kind to me. I had 
 been so happy with you. I even thought you 
 liked me. Then you turned away from me for 
 Kainie.' 
 
 'For Kainie?' 
 
 There was surprise in his face. 
 
 * Yes, you like her best. You are right — she 
 is good, and I am bad — but it made me jealous.' 
 
 ' Good heavens ! You do not understand. 
 There is now no need for further concealment. 
 Kainie is my sister ! '
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 THE BRENT-GEESE 
 
 IT was even as Mark said, but the particulars 
 relative to Kerenhappuch did not come to 
 the knowledge of Zita till some time later. 
 
 Jake Runham, the father of Mark, had made 
 the acquaintance of Drownlands' sister, and had 
 betrayed her. Instead of marrying her, he 
 suddenly took a woman who was an heiress, 
 married her for her money, and left Leah 
 Drownlands to her shame. 
 
 The secret of Leah's disgrace was well kept. 
 She was sent away to a distance, and when she 
 returned after five years with a child, she would 
 say nothing relative to the parentage of Kainie, 
 nor did her brother proclaim it Ki never 
 forgave his sister, and would never hold com- 
 munication with her or receive her child. Jake 
 Runham naturally enough was reserved on the 
 matter, and no one suspected who the father of 
 Kainie was. The public believed that, to use 
 their own terms, Leah had 'met with a mis- 
 fortune ' whilst away from the Fens. 
 
 876
 
 THE BRENT-GEESE 377 
 
 On her return to the neighbourhood of Prick- 
 willow, the unfortunate woman obtained from 
 the Commissioners the use of the cottage and a 
 small allowance, on consideration of her attend- 
 ing to the mill. This pittance she eked out 
 with needlework. Mark had entertained no 
 suspicion of the relationship so long as his 
 father lived, but on his death there was that 
 provision made in the will which revealed the 
 long-hidden secret. Jake acknowledged his 
 paternity to Kainie, and solemnly required his 
 son to provide for and watch over his half-sister. 
 It seemed probable that he had in the past 
 secretly contributed something towards the main- 
 tenance of Leah Drownlands and her daughter. 
 
 These facts were not as yet generally known, 
 but now that Kainie was to be removed to 
 Crumbland, it was inevitable that they should 
 be made public. 
 
 The reason why Mark was so resolved to 
 take Kainie away from Red Wings was that 
 she was harbouring and screening Ephraim 
 Beamish, to whom she was attached and 
 engaged. Mark saw that this could not be 
 suffered to continue. He urged the case with 
 his mother, who had strenuously opposed the 
 reception of the girl into the farm, but who now, 
 as a good woman, yielded when she considered 
 the gravity of the circumstances. 
 
 Ever since the death of Jake Runham, Keren- 
 happuch had known the truth. It had beeij
 
 378 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 necessary for Mark to tell her of their relation- 
 ship, and of the obligation that had been laid 
 upon him. At the same time, to save his father's 
 memory, he urged her to keep the matter secret. 
 This it was which made her reticent with Zita. 
 
 ' Come,' said Mark. * Now is not the time for 
 an explanation — nor can I speak of such matters 
 to you without pain, for my father did a great 
 wrong. The question at this moment is — What 
 is to be done ? Here is the mill running a risk 
 of being burnt down ; on the other hand, there 
 is the water which has been let out, pouring 
 over the Fens. The latter is the most serious 
 concern. If the mill be consumed, it can be 
 rebuilt speedily; but if the fen be flooded, it 
 will take years before it recovers.' 
 
 He took Zita's hand in his. 
 
 ' I do believe I have been unjust. So has 
 Kainie. We owe our lives to you. Kainie, ask 
 her to forgive you the blow you dealt her.' 
 
 ' No,' said Zita. ' I struck Kainie first, and 
 she gave me the blow back again — harder than 
 I struck her, but that was her profits.' 
 
 It seemed probable that the fire smouldering in 
 the ribs of the sails would become extinct. There 
 were matters more urgent, calling Mark elsewhere. 
 
 ' Pip knew better than advise me of his intent,' 
 said Mark. ' We must have a light' 
 
 He tore one of the stakes from the sails of 
 the mill.
 
 THE BRENT-GEESE 379 
 
 * It will serve as a torch,' said he. 'Run, Kainie, 
 to the bridge, give the alarm to the bankers 
 there. Tell them to bring tools and all needful 
 down the embankment.' 
 
 ' But they must not take Pip.' 
 
 'Pip will have sheered off long before they 
 reach the place. Run, Kainie. Come on, Zita, 
 and show me where the bank has been cut 
 through.' 
 
 They walked on together, and their shadows 
 were cast before them by the still glowing mill, 
 which now and then shot up into flame, and 
 then became a smouldering mass. 
 
 They walked fast, but not very fast ; that was 
 hardly possible on the bank. 
 
 For a while Mark said nothing, but he put 
 out his hand, and took that of Zita. 
 
 ' There has been great misunderstanding,' he 
 said meditatively. 
 
 * Yes,' she replied, ' indeed there has. I was 
 jealous because I thought you liked Kainie 
 best' 
 
 ' And I — I do not know what I thought ; evil 
 things were said, and I was a fool, a cursed 
 fool, to believe them. So — you were jealous ? ' 
 
 * Yes, Mark.' 
 
 'You could not have been jealous if you had 
 not cared for me.' 
 
 She did not answer. 
 
 'And I believe the leason why I gave ear to 
 evil words was because I loved you — loved you
 
 38o CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 so dearly that I was jealous through every thread 
 of my being. I was jealous of that fellow 
 Drownlands. I was an ass to think those 
 things could be possible that were said of you. 
 I ought to have known you better.' 
 
 'Yes, Mark, you ought to have known me 
 better.' 
 
 ' But it is not now too late. Zita, we will be 
 to each other as we were before — that is, if you 
 can forgive me.' 
 
 ' Indeed I can forgive you.' 
 
 ' And I will let all know that we understand 
 each other. And, Zita,' he laughed, 'we'll have 
 the old van and Dobbin ' — 
 
 ' He is Jewel, not Dobbin.' 
 
 ' And Jewel, brought over to Crumbland.' 
 
 ' That cannot be, Mark, now.* 
 
 ' Why not ? ' 
 
 ' It is too late." 
 
 ' How too late ? ' 
 
 ' I have promised Drownlands to remain with 
 him at Prickwillow, and take care of his house 
 as long as he lives.' 
 
 ' That won't hold. If I make you my wife ' — 
 
 • That cannot be.' 
 
 ' Cannot be ?— it shall be.' 
 
 'No, Mark, I gave you up. I gave up my 
 thoughts of you as a husband in order to get Ki 
 Drownlands to desist from appearing against 
 you in court.' 
 
 * He could have done nothing.*
 
 THE BRENT-GEESE 381 
 
 'Whether he could or could not, matters 
 nought now. I made a promise.' 
 
 * You must break it.' 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 'A deal is a deal.' 
 
 Then, as both remained silent, suddenly- 
 strange sounds were heard high up in the dark 
 sky, a sound as of barking dogs in full career. 
 
 Zita shivered and caught hold of Mark. 
 
 ' Oh ! ' she said in a whisper, full of fear. 
 ' They scent a soul — they hunt a soul ! Oh, 
 poor soul ! God help it ! Poor soul — run — run 
 — swift — in at heaven's door ! ' 
 
 'Nonsense, little frightened creature! It is 
 the brent-geese ! ' 
 
 ' Mark, last time I heard them it betokened 
 death. Then it was two souls — two flying — 
 flying — and the dogs in full career after them.' 
 
 'You, Zita,' laughed Mark, 'do you re- 
 member when we spoke of this on the ice, I 
 said when next you heard the brent-geese I 
 hoped I might stand by you. Zita, please God, 
 when the hell-hounds, if such they be, — and I 
 don't believe a word of it, — be let loose, scenting 
 my soul or yours, that I may be by you, or you 
 by me, to cheer each other in the final and 
 dreadful race.' 
 
 Zita shuddered. 
 
 ' Mark, it may not be. I shall stand by 
 Drownlands. I have promised — a deal is a 
 deal.'
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 THE CUT EMBANKMENT 
 
 DROWNLANDS had been for some time 
 in the upstairs room that served as his 
 office. He had brought out his account-books, 
 lighted his lamp, and was endeavouring to 
 engage his thoughts on his expenditure in wages, 
 and to go over the names of his workmen, and 
 strike out such as had taken part in the recent 
 riot. But it was in vain. After a few futile 
 attempts, he leaned his head on his palm, and 
 gave himself over to thoughts of Zita. 
 
 It was poor comfort to him to know that she 
 would remain in his house, but it was a comfort. 
 He felt confidence in her — that, having passed 
 her word to remain, remain she would, whatever 
 might happen. Whatever animadversions might 
 be made on her presence in his house, however 
 deeply her reputation might suffer, she would 
 stay with him. She had passed her word. It 
 was not unlikely, he thought, that some swain 
 might become enamoured of her, and ask her to 
 
 382
 
 THE CUT EMBANKMENT 383 
 
 join her lot with his, but she would refuse him. 
 She would remain an old maid at Prickwillow, 
 because she had passed her word. Not for a 
 moment did Drownlands' faith in Zita give way. 
 She had impressed the man indelibly with a 
 conviction of her sincerity. Zita as a Cheap 
 Jack was one thing, Zita in private life was 
 another. She had one conscience for her deal- 
 ings with the general public, another conscience 
 for her dealings with individuals face to face. 
 The sun might rise in the west and go down in 
 the Orient sky, but Zita could not fail to keep 
 her word. 
 
 Drownlands was startled from his reverie by 
 the maid Sarah, who rushed in at the door, 
 exclaiming — 
 
 ' Master, the water be out 1 * 
 
 * What water ? ' 
 
 ' The boy says the fen is flooded.' 
 'Flooded?' 
 
 * He says the bank be broke.' 
 ' The Lark embankment ? ' 
 
 Drownlands realised instantly the significance 
 of the announcement. 
 
 ' Quick ! ' said he ; ' light me the lantern. 
 Sharp ! No time is to be lost.' 
 
 He ran to the corner to snatch up a stick, and, 
 without observing what he did, laid hold of the 
 flail. He did not perceive his mistake till he 
 had reached the foot of the staircase. Then he 
 could not delay to return and exchange it for a
 
 384 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 staff. He caught the lantern from the hand of 
 Sarah and went out into the yard. His feet at 
 once splashed into water. 
 
 ' What has happened ? ' he exclaimed, with an 
 oath. ' It cannot be that they have cut the 
 embankment.' 
 
 He splashed on. Over the frozen surface of 
 the soil a ripple of water was running, followed 
 by another ripple, and with each the film of 
 water covering the yard was sensibly deepened. 
 
 * The bank must have broken. The frost has 
 done it. They would never have dared to 
 cut it' 
 
 Swaying his lantern, Drownlands strode 
 through the water, out of the stackyard and into 
 the drove that led from his farm to the highway. 
 This had been much cut up that day by his 
 waggons carting roots. The heavy vehicles 
 with broad wheels had crushed through the icy 
 crust, and the hoofs of the horses had assisted in 
 breaking up the frost case. Thus in places the 
 water was able to act on the unfrozen peat, and 
 undermine the surface that was hard frozen. 
 The peat was dry, and when the water reached 
 it, it swelled as a sponge. 
 
 A tide was flowing down the drove. On both 
 sides were the frozen dykes ; the water covered 
 the ice, running along it, and but for the sedge 
 and rushes that rose out of the ditches, their 
 presence would have been undefined. 
 
 The brow of Drownlands darkened, and his
 
 THE CUT EMBANKMENT 385 
 
 cheeks glowed. Was this the meaning of the 
 threats launched against him ? He had never 
 conceived it possible that the men would have 
 recourse to such means as this to pay off their 
 grudge against him, for to inundate the farm 
 was to destroy their field of labour. 
 
 * I wish I had brought my gun,' said he. 
 'And then, should I see one of the scoundrels, 
 I'd shoot him with no more scruple than I would 
 a dotterel. As it is, let me come upon one,' — he 
 raised and flourished his flail, — * and I will beat 
 out his brains.' 
 
 Drownlands walked with difficulty. Where 
 the surface under the water was frozen, there it 
 was slippery. Where it was broken through 
 and broken up by the wain wheels and horse 
 hoofs, there it was slough. 
 
 Ruts, still frozen, were in places two or three 
 feet in depth, and they were filled. Invisible 
 under the water, he was liable to sink into them. 
 He stumbled along, angry, swearing, advancing 
 with labour, forced to hold his lantern, first to 
 one side, then to the other, to make sure that he 
 was not turning from his road, his sole guide 
 being the sedge lines, one on each side. 
 
 The roads in the Fens are not made of stone, 
 for stone is not to be found in the Fens. The 
 soil hardens with drought and frost. In rainy 
 weather it is a slough. The draining-machines, 
 being almost constantly at work, suck all the 
 moisture out of the soil, and as it dries it 
 
 2S
 
 386 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 shrinks. Now that the water from the canal 
 was overflowing the fen, it rippled on innocuously 
 over the icy case, but wherever it could penetrate 
 through that case, at every crack, at every dint, 
 it was drunk in in heavy draughts by the thirsty 
 soil, that immediately heaved and swelled as it 
 imbibed the moisture, and in so doing dissolved 
 into slough. 
 
 The tide continued to flow. In the yard the 
 water had been hardly as high as the instep. 
 It now flowed over the boot tops. 
 
 The water was intensely cold. 
 
 Drownlands had on his boots, such as he wore 
 ordinarily, but not his wading boots that reached 
 to the thighs. He had not thought it necessary 
 to wear such protectors in frosty weather. Those 
 he wore did not extend higher than his calves. 
 Already, in one of his plunges into a rut filled 
 with water, he had soaked his feet, his boots, so 
 far from serving as a protection, being an en- 
 cumbrance. The flail, moreover, was of small 
 service ; the handfast was not of length sufficient 
 for him to probe the water before him and sound 
 his way. Would that he had drawn on his 
 wading-boots — would that he had brought a 
 leaping-pole ! 
 
 Drownlands turned his head over his shoulder 
 and looked back at the house. He could see the 
 lie^ht from the kitchen and that from his office 
 — the latter partially, as, owing to the broken 
 glass in the window, he had closed the shutters.
 
 THE CUT EMBANKMENT 387 
 
 He had left his lamp burning, and he could dis- 
 tinguish its light in a line where the shutters 
 closed imperfectly. 
 
 It seemed to the man that the distance he 
 had come was greater than it really was. 
 
 The difficulty of advancing must increase with 
 every few minutes. In a quarter of an hour it 
 would not be possible to traverse the distance 
 between Prickwillow and the embankment save 
 by boat. 
 
 He must reach the tow - path, and hasten 
 along it to the nearest station, where a gang of 
 workmen was quartered, with implements and 
 material ready on an emergency. 
 
 There was no time to be lost. Every minute 
 was of importance. Drownlands knew but too 
 well that if his farm were inundated, it would be 
 rendered valueless for several years. It would 
 not be utter ruin, as he had the savings of the 
 past to eat into, but it would prevent his reaping 
 advantage from his land till it had been com- 
 pletely recovered of the effects of the flood. 
 
 Struggling with the rising tide, he succeeded 
 in getting upon the highway. But now his 
 difficulties were the greater, for he had entered 
 into the current that poured from the Lark. 
 The water rushed over his knees. The cold was 
 almost insupportable. With body bent, step by 
 step, helping himself onwards with the flail, but 
 unable always to trust it, owing to the pits in the 
 submerged surface, he advanced slowly.
 
 388 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 He held up the lantern and looked round. 
 The tallow candle through the horn sides but 
 feebly illumined the night. It showed the 
 gurgling water in which he was wading, but it 
 showed nothing beside. He did not any longer 
 know his direction. He must stem the current, 
 but was unable to judge where the edge and 
 where the centre of the current were that poured 
 against him. 
 
 When he lowered his lantern, he was aware of 
 a lurid light in the sky above the embankment, 
 and saw now and then a brilliant spark thrown 
 up. That there was a fire somewhere he could 
 not doubt, and concluded that the rioters who 
 had cut the embankment were continuing their 
 incendiary work as before. He could not see 
 the wheel of fire ; he was too low down for that, 
 but he saw the illumination caused by it. Sud- 
 denly his feet gave way, and he fell in the water. 
 He had gone into one of the deepest cart-ruts. 
 As he fell, his lantern was extinguished. 
 
 It was now impossible for him to return. He 
 could not, if he wished it, have retraced his 
 steps. His only possible course was to scramble 
 up the bank, and to do this he now devoted all 
 his energies. But unhappily he had reached pre- 
 cisely that point where the bank had been cut 
 through, and was therefore exposed to the full 
 force of the outrush of the river. As, by a 
 desperate effort, he recovered his feet, he could 
 see the lip of water curling over, reddened by
 
 THE CUT EMBANKMENT 389 
 
 the reflection of the fire beyond. He was 
 drenched in the ice-cold water, but that was 
 nothing to the anguish in his feet ; they were 
 turning dead, numbed by the water in which 
 they had been immersed so long without proper 
 protection. 
 
 But this was not all. No sooner had Drown- 
 lands reached the slope of the embankment 
 than he became aware that the little assistance 
 rendered him by the frost was at an end. The 
 rush of water had broken up the gault of which 
 the bank was formed, was eating at every 
 moment farther into it, and widening the mouth 
 by which it poured from the bed of the river 
 upon the low reclaimed land. The moistened 
 marl was greasy under his feet. When he 
 slipped and endeavoured to catch at the bank, 
 his hands sank into the sodden clay, and the 
 tenacious matter held his fingers like glue. His 
 feet, moreover, went deep into the clay, and to 
 extract them was difficult. 
 
 It became apparent to Drownlands that he 
 must battle for his life against the current. 
 
 He endeavoured to assist himself in his ascent 
 by the staff of the flail, but this proved of no 
 help to him, as it sank with the pressure applied 
 to it in the glutinous mass. He strove to heave 
 himself up, and could not ; his feet, dead with 
 cold, and, through their loss of sensation, no 
 longer able to feel the bottom, slipped from under 
 him. He could not extract his staff from the
 
 39© CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 marl. All he was able to do was to cling to it, 
 and pant and recover breath, and then make 
 another desperate effort forward. 
 
 The water, tearing through the fissure in the 
 bank, broke off masses of the clay, half frozen, 
 and whirled them down, and along with them 
 blocks of river ice that had broken up. It was 
 sometimes difficult to ascend the embankment, 
 the slope of which was steep, in the face of a 
 strong wind ; it was a hundred times more diffi- 
 cult now, when it had to be done against a 
 rushing torrent, and that of water which curdled 
 the blood in the veins, knotted the muscles with 
 cramp, and paralysed the sinews. 
 
 No thought of revenge on those who had cut 
 the bank now occupied the mind of Drownlands 
 — no thought of having the leak stopped. The 
 one absorbing consideration was how to escape 
 from the deadly-cold raging current. 
 
 Then a sharp cant of ice whirled down, cut 
 his knuckles and jarred his fingers, so that he 
 let go the flail with one hand, but seized it in 
 time with the other to save himself from being 
 swept away. He was carried off his feet, and in 
 trying to right himself drove one foot so deeply 
 into the marl, that, when he endeavoured to 
 pluck it forth, the tenacious matter held his boot 
 and tore it off his foot. The intensity of the 
 cold was, however, so great, that he was not 
 sensible of the loss. He looked up. The red 
 auroral light was still illumining the sky behind
 
 THE CUT EMBANKMENT 391 
 
 the bank. He held to the flail that was planted 
 in the clay. If that gave way, his hold on life 
 would be gone. 
 
 Now he saw above him a dark figure on the 
 bank, and he cried, ' Help ! help ! ' 
 
 * Who calls there ? ' 
 
 ' It is I— Ki Drownlands.' 
 
 The man made no effort to descend. He 
 folded his arms, and said slowly in harsh tones — 
 
 ' I cannot help you. I am Ephraim Beamish. 
 You are prepared to testify against some twenty 
 of my comrades, and to send them to the 
 gallows. Which is of most worth, your life, 
 you Judas, or theirs ? ' 
 
 * Help ! I will say nothing.' 
 
 ' I cannot trust you,' said Beamish. 'Wretched 
 man, water was created of God to cleanse away 
 transgression. Go, wash thee and be clean — 
 wash thee and be free from thy sins.' 
 
 Then a torch flared above the bank. Mark 
 was there with Zita. 
 
 * Who is there ? What is this ? ' Mark asked, 
 with an agitated voice. The blazing tarred 
 wood, sending up a golden burst of flame, 
 illumined the upturned countenance of Drown- 
 lands. The struggling man raised his arm to 
 wipe the water and sweat from his eyes and 
 screen them from the brilliant light. 
 
 ' It is the master,' said Zita. ' Save him, 
 Mark ! Oh, do save him 1 ' 
 
 Instantly, but with caution, Mark descended,
 
 392 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 digging his heels deep into the marl at each 
 step, and held the torch aloft, wavering, gutter- 
 ing, throwing out sparks in the wind. ' Give me 
 your hand,' said the young man. 
 
 The exhausted, desperate Drownlands with- 
 drew his arm from before his eyes. 
 
 In the burning wood was a copper nail, and 
 this now sent forth a lambent, grass-green flame, 
 in the light of which Drownlands' face was like 
 that of a corpse. The man, in his extreme peril 
 and desire for help, stretched forth his hand. 
 
 Then the wind blew the flame so that the face 
 of Mark was illumined. Suddenly Tiger Ki 
 snatched his hand back again. 
 
 ' A Runham — no ! ' 
 
 He endeavoured by a frantic effort to ascend 
 the bank by his own efforts. There ensued a 
 terrible scene — the struggle of a well-nigh spent 
 man with the adverse elements to deliver him- 
 self from his position. He fought with the water 
 and the clay, tossing a spray about him, pound- 
 ing with his feet, one shod, the other bare, 
 churning clay and water around him. 
 
 Failing to mount one step above where the flail 
 was rooted, he discontinued his profitless effort, 
 and, clinging with both hands to the stay, cried — 
 
 ' Zita, I will owe life to you, or to none ! ' 
 
 Without a thought for herself, the girl leaped 
 to his aid. 
 
 In a moment his disengaged arm was round her. 
 
 ' We may die — if we cannot live — together,'
 
 THE CUT EMBANKMENT 393 
 
 ' Let go ! ' shouted Mark, and laid hold of 
 Zita by the arm. ' Let go ! ' 
 
 * To you — never ! ' 
 
 Without consideration Mark drove the burn- 
 ing torch against his hand that clasped the girl. 
 
 With a shriek Drownlands relaxed his hold. 
 
 At that moment, Ephraim, who had descended 
 carefully, had laid hold of the flail above where 
 Drownlands' hand had clutched it. He stooped, 
 and, exerting his full force from above, drew it 
 forth from the clay in which it was fast. 
 
 At once Drownlands slid away in the stream. 
 Still clinging to the flail, he was carried off his 
 feet, out of the range of light cast by the torch, 
 and under water. 
 
 ' Go ! ' said Beamish, waving his hand over the 
 torrent. * Go ! thou accuser of thy brethren ! 
 Go, wash away thy sins in the water that drowns 
 thee ! ' 
 
 He saw the flood before him glittering like 
 gold. He looked round. The gangers had 
 come — summoned by Kainie. 
 
 * Save him ! save him ! ' cried Zita. 
 
 ' Where is he ? — who can say ? Carried 
 forth into the outer darkness ; rolled away in 
 the baptismal flood — who can say whither?' 
 answered Ephraim. 
 
 * No,' said one of the gangers. ' No help is 
 possible.' 
 
 ' God have mercy on a sinful soul ! ' said 
 Ephraim.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THISTLES 
 
 THE trial of the rioters came on before a 
 Special Commission, that sat a few weeks 
 after the arrest of the men. The cutting of the 
 embankment after the arrest had greatly ex- 
 asperated minds against the unfortunate men 
 who were to take their trial, although they 
 themselves were guiltless in this matter. It 
 probably served to sharpen the sentences pro- 
 nounced upon them, as their judges shared the 
 general feeling that an example should be made 
 that would overawe the fen-men, and deter them 
 from future acts of lawlessness. 
 
 Judgment of death was passed on thirty-four 
 men, but only five were actually executed. 
 The sentence on nine was mitigated into trans- 
 portation for life, and that on the rest was 
 commuted to imprisonment for a term of years. 
 
 Ephraim Beamish was not taken. Mark suc- 
 ceeded in effecting his escape from the Fens. 
 He supplied him with money, and Beamish
 
 THISTLES 395 
 
 took ship at Liverpool for the United States, 
 where he bought a farm, then turned backwoods 
 Baptist preacher, tired of that, returned to farm 
 life, and married Kainie, who went out to him. 
 She was a rich woman, and might have had 
 her pick of the young fen-farmers. She had 
 inherited everything that had belonged to her 
 uncle. But Kainie would have no one save Pip, 
 and as Pip could not come to her, she sold 
 Prickwillow to Mark, and went out to the man 
 of her choice in the New World. 
 
 Mark gave his half-sister a fair price for the 
 farm. The land had been seriously injured by 
 the inundation, and would have been more 
 seriously affected had not the bankers, sum- 
 moned by Kainie, been able rapidly and 
 effectually to stop the breach. 
 
 Mark was now a man of substance. When 
 he purchased Prickwillow, he united that estate 
 to Crumbland, and became one of the largest 
 landed proprietors in that portion of the Fens ; 
 nevertheless, like his fellow-yeomen, he did not 
 affect to be a squire, but lived in sober fashion, 
 worked with his men, and worked harder than 
 any one of them. A popular man he was with 
 the labourer as with the farmer, for he was just 
 and kindly, and possessed unflagging good 
 spirits. He amassed money. Let his sons or 
 grandsons style themselves gentlemen, said he ; 
 for his part, he was content to be plain Mark 
 Runham, farmer.
 
 396 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 What is to be told concerning Zita? 
 
 The ill opinion formed of her had been due 
 mainly to the malicious and slanderous tongue 
 of Leehanna Tunkiss. Whatever had been said 
 against Zita was traceable to this source. 
 
 When it was discovered that Ki Drownlands 
 had made and executed his will on the very day 
 on which he died, and that in it he had con- 
 stituted his niece sole heiress of all he possessed, 
 and had not even mentioned the Cheap Jack 
 girl, the trust of the fen-folk in the word of 
 Mrs. Tunkiss failed. The housekeeper was 
 discredited and her stories disbelieved. 
 
 It was not long before Mark Runham made 
 Zita his wife, and the van, with all its goods, 
 was moved by a team of his horses to Crumb- 
 land. 
 
 There was one secret Zita retained locked in 
 her heart, and which she never revealed to Mark 
 — the events of the night when Ki Drownlands 
 and Jake Runham met on the embankment and 
 fought with the flails till Mark's father was cast 
 into the canal — there to perish. There was no 
 necessity for her to tell it. The guilty man had 
 died as had his foe — in the same water. 
 
 For many years recourse was had to the 
 stores of the van whenever the household was 
 in need of some article there in stock. 
 
 In the Fens, when a man requires to traverse 
 a considerable distance, he provides himself with 
 a leaping-pole, and makes for his destination in
 
 THISTLES 397 
 
 a bee-line, clearing every watery obstruction 
 in his way. 
 
 The author now uses this privilege — takes 
 pole in hand, and, seeing the end before him, 
 makes for it. What does he first see after 
 having put down the pole and leaped ? 
 
 A van. Surely the familiar Cheap Jack con- 
 veyance, crawling along the drove on a summer's 
 day, drawn by an old horse that takes a few 
 steps, then pauses, breathes hard, looks behind 
 him with a peculiarly resolute expression in his 
 eye, and ignores absolutely every appeal, en- 
 treaty, objurgation addressed to him, till he has 
 recovered his wind, when he goes on once more. 
 
 From within the van issue cheery children's 
 voices. Then some little heads appear, some 
 with auburn hair and brown eyes, others very 
 fair, and with eyes the colour of the sky. 
 
 ' What the dickens is that there concern ? ' 
 asks a stranger, standing on the tow-path by the 
 Lark, who from his vantage-ground watches 
 the slow and intermittent progress of the van 
 on the drove. 
 
 ' Lor' bless you ! ' answers a ganger going by. 
 ' It's only them little Cheap Jackies taking a 
 drive.' 
 
 Again. What is the meaning of the noise 
 that issues from the coach-house? A shrill 
 voice is haranguing, then is broken in on by a 
 clamour of other voices. 
 
 Let us look within.
 
 398 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 The van is there, in a house so boxed in as 
 to be inaccessible to poultry. 
 
 The front of the van is down. The red velvet 
 curtains, much faded, and the gold fringe, much 
 tarnished, are suspended in their proper places, 
 decorating the front. One boy is on the plat- 
 form, and is exhibiting his toys to his brothers 
 and sisters, and offering them for sale at extra- 
 vagant prices ; then, abating his demands, he 
 assures them that he offers these articles for 
 absolutely the last time, and at the lowest price 
 which he will consent to receive. 
 
 Mark Runham returns from the farm. 
 ' Zita,' says he, * I want to see my little ones. 
 Where are they ? ' 
 
 •At their favourite amusement on a rainy 
 day.' 
 
 ' What is that ? ' 
 
 'Playing at being Cheap Jacks. Mark, it is 
 in their blood.' 
 
 'Who is doing the selling to-day?' 
 'Our eldest — James,' answers Zita; 'and, 
 Mark, when James marries, we'll have out that 
 there epergne for the wedding breakfast.' 
 ' That's a long way ahead,' answers Mark. 
 So it seemed to him. But again the novelist 
 uses his privilege, puts down the pole, and away 
 he goes with one great bound over a period of 
 several years, and finds himself suddenly alight 
 in the parlour of Crumbland. He sees before 
 him Mark, now a middle-aged man, broad in
 
 THISTLES 399 
 
 shoulders and in beam, with ruddy cheeks 
 that are pretty full ; and Zita, now a comely 
 matron. 
 
 Facing his father and mother, with some shy- 
 ness in his face, stands Jim, the hope of the 
 family, twirling his hat, and looking furtively in 
 his father's face, as he says — 
 
 ' Father, give me the portion of goods that 
 falleth to me, and let me go.' 
 
 'Go? Go, Jim? Good gracious! what do 
 you mean ? Whither do you want to go ? ' 
 
 ' That is just it ; nowhere in particular, and 
 yet somewhere.' 
 
 * But — leave home ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, father, I want to be off and about.' 
 
 ' Why, Jim, this is sheer delirium — tremenjous, 
 as your mother would say. There is Prick- 
 willow empty, waiting for you, whenever you 
 marry. 
 
 'And the epergne for the breakfast-table,' 
 added Zita. 
 
 ' I do not want to marry, father ! The epergne 
 must wait, mother dear ! I haven't found the 
 right one yet,' answered James, hanging his 
 head. 
 
 * But, good gracious ! why should you go ? 
 Have not I been kind to you? Have not you 
 been allowed your own way in all that is 
 right ? ' 
 
 'Never was there a better father,' answered 
 the young man, with emotion, ' and never, never
 
 400 CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 a dearer, better mother ! It is not that. I love 
 home. I love my parents and my brothers and 
 sisters. I dote on the baby. I love the Fens. 
 I cannot believe that any other portion of God's 
 world can be worth living in. I am sure none 
 will be more beautiful in my eyes than the fens 
 of Ely. Nevertheless, give me the portion of 
 goods that falleth to me, and let me go.' 
 
 ' But for what do you want to be off ? ' 
 
 'Why, father, mother,' says the young man, 
 ' I want to be a Cheap Jack. Ever since I was 
 a child I have loved to drive bargains.' 
 
 ' Let him go,' says Zita. ' There are some 
 things we have never found a use for here. 
 There's that box of scents ; there's the garden 
 syringe. It is a sad pity so much capital should 
 lie idle.' 
 
 ' Father,' says the young man, ' I feel as 
 though I must go. I do not say I shall be a 
 Cheap Jack all my days.' 
 
 * Why, I had such grand views for you, Jim ; 
 I thought I would send you to college, and I 
 hoped some day you might even try and get 
 into Parliament' 
 
 ' Mark,' — it is Zita who speaks, — ' I was a 
 rambling girl once, a sort of a vagabond, going 
 over the country selling my goods ; but I have 
 become stationary, like the van, stuck in the fen 
 peat. I have not stirred for many a year, and 
 have never desired to rove out of the Fens any 
 more. It will be the same with Jim. He has
 
 THISTLES 401 
 
 it in his bones. It will do him an amazing 
 lot of good. He'll get to know the General 
 Public' 
 
 * That is it, father,' says James. * I seems as 
 if I never could be happy and easy in my mind 
 till I've done a stroke of business with that there 
 Public. And I sees my way to it. There's 
 abundance of thistles growing about the edges 
 of the drains. I wants to cut 'em down.' 
 
 ' Well, cut 'em. That need not take you away.' 
 
 ' Father, I wants to make the General Public 
 eat 'em, and pay for the privilege. I've heard 
 in my sleep a voice in my ear that I do be- 
 lieve comes from the General Public, saying, 
 "Jim! Jim! give us thistles!" And the wind 
 always whistles to the same tune. And the 
 thunder rolling seems to be the voice of the 
 General Public, braying, "Give us thistles!" 
 And, father, even the very bees when they hum 
 about the flowers seem to convey to me in a 
 whisper the message, as from a lover, but it 
 comes from the General Public, " Give us thistles. 
 We are sick for thistledown. 'Tisn't bread we 
 wants — 'tisn't meat — 'tis thistledown." I can't 
 say exactly how I'll dispose of it to them, — 
 whether rolled up in pills, or stuffed in feather 
 beds,— but I know the Public will buy thistles 
 in any disguise. And then, father, think of the 
 profits.' 
 
 « Mark,' said Zita, ' let him go. Cheap-jacking 
 is an edication. It teaches a chap to know the 
 36
 
 40« CHEAP JACK ZITA 
 
 General Public, what to lay on his back, how to 
 tickle his ears, what you can make him swallow. 
 If you think of making Jim a mimber of Parlia- 
 ment, there is no school, no college more suitable 
 than the Cheap Jack's van. Let him go, Mark. 
 He's a good boy— he'll come to no harm. He'll 
 settle down the better after it, and he'll enjoy 
 himself — " tremenjous."* 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED BY MORRISON AND GIBB LIJIITED, EDINBURGH
 
 A CATALOGUE OF BOOKS 
 
 AND ANNOUNCEMENTS OF 
 
 METHUEN AND COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS : LONDON 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET 
 
 W.C. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 FOKTltCOiUNG BOOKS, 
 
 BELLES LETTRES, ANTHOLOGIES, ETC., 
 POETRY, .... 
 
 ILLUSTRATED AND GIFT BOOKS, 
 HISTORY, ..... 
 BIOGRAPHY, .... 
 
 TRAVEL, ADVENTURE AND TOPOGRAPHY, 
 NAVAL AND MILITARY, 
 GENERAL LITERATURE, 
 PHILOSOPHY, .... 
 THEOLOGY, .... 
 
 FICTION, .... 
 
 BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, . 
 THE PEACOCK LIBRARY, 
 ONIVKRSITY EXTENSION SERIES, 
 SOCIAL QUESTIONS OF TO-DAY 
 CLASSICAL TRANSLATIONS, 
 EDOCATIONAL BOOKS, . 
 
 5 
 7 
 '4 
 IS 
 17 
 i8 
 
 20 
 22 
 24 
 24 
 29 
 
 39 
 39 
 39 
 40 
 
 41 
 42 
 
 OCTOBER 1900
 
 October 1900 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's 
 
 ANNOUNCEMENTS 
 
 Travel, Adventure and Topography 
 
 THE INDIAN BORDERLAND : Being a Personal Record 
 of Twenty Years. By Sir T. H. HOLDICH, K.C.I. E. Illustrated, 
 Demy Svo. i^s. net. 
 This book is a personal record of the author's connection with those military and 
 political expeditions which, during the last twenty years, have led to the con- 
 solidation of our present position in the North-West frontier of India. It is 
 a personal history of trans-frontier surveys and boundary demarcations, com- 
 mencing with Penjdeh and ending with the Pamirs, Chitral, and Tirah. 
 
 MODERN ABYSSYNIA. By A. B. Wylde. With a Map and 
 a Portrait. Demy Svo. I^s. net. 
 An important and comprehensive account of Abyssinia by a traveller who knows 
 the country intimately, and has had the privilege of the friendship of King 
 Menelik. 
 
 Revised by Com7)ia7idittg Officers. 
 THE HISTORY OF THE BOER WAR. By F. H. E. CUN- 
 LIFFE, Fellow of All Souls' College, Oxford. With many Illustrations, 
 Plans, and Portraits. Vol. I. Quarto. 155. Also in Fortnightly 
 Parts. \s. each. 
 
 Tbe first volume of this important work is nearly ready. When complete, this book 
 will give an elaborate and connected account of the military operations in South 
 Africa from the declaration to the end of the present war. It must remain for some 
 years the standard History of the War. Messrs. Methuen have been fortunate 
 enough to secure the co-operation of many commanding officers in the revision 
 of the various chapters. 
 
 The History is finely illustrated. 
 
 A PRISONER OF WAR. By Colonel A. Schiel. Crown 
 
 8vo. 6s. 
 This remarkable book contains the experiences of a well-known foreign officer of 
 the Boer Army— from i S96 to 1900 — both as a Boer officer and as a prisoner in British 
 hands. Colonel Schiel, who was captured at Elandslaagte, was a confidential 
 military adviser of the Transvaal Government, and his story will cause a sensation. 
 
 DARTMOOR: A Descriptive and Historical Sketch. By S. 
 
 Baring Gould. With Plans and Numerous Illustrations. Crown 
 
 Svo. 6s. 
 This book attempts to give to the visitor a descriptive history of the antiquities and 
 natural features of this district. It is profusely illustrated from paintings and from 
 photographs. Plans are also given of the chief antiquities. The book is uniform 
 with the author's well-known Booi o/tke West. 
 
 THE SIEGE OF MAFEKING. By ANGUS Hamilton. With 
 
 many Illustrations. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 This is a vivid, accurate, and humorous narrative of the great siege by the well- 
 known Correspondent of the Times. Mr. Hamilton is not only an admirable 
 writer, but an excellent fighter, and he took an active part in the defence of the town. 
 His narrative of the siege is acknowledged to be far superior to any other account.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 3 
 
 THE PEOPLE OF CHINA. By J. W. Robertson-Scott. 
 
 With a Map. Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 This book of 200 pages contains a complete account of the history, races, government, 
 religion, social life, army, commerce, and attitude to foreigners of the Chinese. 
 
 THE RELIEF OF MAFEKING. By FiLSON Young. With 
 Maps and Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 This book gives a spirited and vigorous account of the work accomplished by 
 Mahon's flying column and its relief of Mafeking. It also relates the defeat of 
 Colonel Villebois and his death. The book deals in the main with episodes in 
 the war which have not yet been described in any work. 
 
 WITH THE BOER FORCES. By Howard C. Hillegas. 
 With 16 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 This highly interesting book is a narrative of the episodes of the Boer war by a corre- 
 spondent with the Boer army. Mr. Hillegas was present at many of the most 
 exciting and most dramatic episodes of the war. He was with the force which 
 attempted to relieve Cronje at Paardeberg, was present during a considerable 
 part of the siege of Ladysmith, at the battle of Colenso, at the surprise of Sanna's 
 Post. His book, written with dramatic vigour, is a spirited description of the 
 Boer methods, of their military strength, and contains vivid character sketches of 
 most of the Boer leaders with whom i\Ir. Hillegas was on terms of fairly intimate 
 friendship. This book, though written by one who sympathises with the Boers, 
 is permeated by a spirit of chivalry, and it contains little that can offend the most 
 sensitive of Englishmen. It throws a flood of light on many of the episodes 
 which have been mysterious, and explains the secrets of the many successes which 
 the Boers have won. 
 
 History and Biography 
 
 THE LETTERS OF ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON TO 
 
 HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS. Edited with an Introduction and 
 Notes by Sidney Colvin. Fourth Edition. Two volumes. Crown 
 8vo. 1 2S. 
 This is a completely new edition of the famous Letters of Robert Louis Stavenson, 
 published in 1899. 
 
 THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF SIR JOHN EVERETT 
 MILLAIS, President of the Royal Academy. By his son J. G. 
 MiLLAis. With over 300 Illustrations, of which 9 are in Photo- 
 gravure. Cheaper Edition, Revised. Two vohimes. Eoyal 8vo. 
 205. net. 
 
 THE WALKERS OF SOUTHGATE : Being the Chronicles of 
 a Cricketing Family. By W. A. Bettesworth. Illustrated. Deuiy 
 8vo. 1 55. 
 
 A HISTORY OF EGYPT, FROM the Earliest Times to 
 THE Present Day. Edited by W. M. Flinders Petrie, D.C.L., 
 LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at University College. Fully Illus- 
 trated. In Six Volumes. Crozvn 8vo. 6s. each. 
 Vol. VI. Egypt under the Saracens. By Stanley Lane- 
 Poole. 
 
 Illustrated and Gift Books 
 
 THE LIVELY CITY OF LIGG. By Gelett Burgess. With 
 53 Illustrations, 8 of which are coloured. Stnall a,lo. 6s,
 
 4 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 
 
 GOOP BABIES. By Gelett Burgess. With numerous 
 
 Illustrations. Small ^to. 6s. 
 THE EARLY POEMS OF ALFRED LORD TENNYSON. 
 
 Edited, with Notes and an Introduction by J. Churton Collins, 
 M. A. With lo Illustrations in Photogravure by W. E. F. Britten. 
 Demy ^vo, \os. 6d. 
 This beautiful edition contains ten charming sketches by Mr. Britten, reproduced in 
 
 the highest style of Photogravure. 
 
 NURSERY RHYMES. With many Coloured Pictures by 
 F. D. Bedford. Super Royal '&vo. Zs. 6d. 
 'An excellent selection of the best known rhymes, with beautifully coloured pictures 
 exquisitely printed.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 Theology 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION IN ENGLAND. By 
 Alfred Caldecott, D.D. Demy ^vo. los. 6d. 
 
 [Handbooks of Theology. 
 A complete history and description of the various philosophies of religion which have 
 been formulated during the last few centuries in England and America. 
 
 ST. PAUL'S SECOND AND THIRD EPISTLES TO THE 
 CORINTHIANS. With Introduction, Dissertations, and Notes by 
 James Houghton Kennedy, D.D., Assistant Lecturer in Divinity 
 in the University of Dublin. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE SOUL OF A CHRISTIAN. By F. S. Granger, M.A., 
 Litt.D. Crown ?>vo, 6s. 
 Professor Granger abandons the conventional method of psychology by which the 
 individual is taken alone, and instead, he regards him as sharing in and contribut- 
 ing to the catholic tradition. Hence the book deals not only with the average 
 religious life, but also with the less familiar experiences of the mystic, the vision- 
 ary, and the symbolist. These experiences furnish a clue to poetic creation in its 
 various kinds, and further, to the miracles which occur during times of religious 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 ©jtorD Commcntariee. 
 
 THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES. Edited, with an Intro- 
 duction and Notes, by R. B. Rackham, M.A. Demy 8vo. 
 
 XLbe Xlbrarg ot 2)evotion 
 
 Poll 8vo. Cloth 2s. ; leather 2s. 6d. net. 
 NEW VOLUMES. 
 
 A GUIDE TO ETERNITY. By Cardinal Bona. Edited 
 
 with an Introduction and Notes by J. W. Stanbridge, B.D., late 
 
 Fellow of St. John's College, O.xford. 
 THE PSALMS OF DAVID. With an Introduction and Notes 
 
 by B. W. Randolph, D.D., Principal of the Theological College, 
 
 Ely. 
 A devotional and practical edition of the Prayer Book version of the Psalms. 
 
 LYRA APOSTOLICA. With an Introduction by Canon Scott 
 Holland, and Notes by H. C. Beeching, M.A.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 5 
 Belles Lettres 
 
 Zbc Xittlc Guides 
 
 foii Svo. Cloth, 3^. ; leather, 35. dd. net. 
 
 NEW VOLUMES. 
 
 WESTMINSTER ABBEY. By G. E. Troutbeck. Illustrated 
 by F. D. Bedford. 
 
 SUSSEX. By F. G. Brabant, M.A. Illustrated by E. H. New. 
 
 Xfttlc JSiograpbies 
 
 Fcap. ^vo. Each Volume, cloth y. 6d.; leather, 45. net. 
 
 Messrs. Methuen will publish shortly the first two volumes of a new 
 series bearing the above title. Each book will contain the biography of a 
 character famous in war, art, literature or science, and will be written l)y 
 an acknowledged expert. The books will be charmingly produced and 
 will be well illustrated. They will make delightful gift books. 
 
 THE LIFE OF DANTE ALIGHIERI. By Paget Toynbee. 
 With 10 Illustrations. 
 
 THE LIFE OF SAVONAROLA. By E. L. HORSBURGH, M.A., 
 With Portraits and Illustrations. 
 
 Zbc Timorfis ot Sbaftespcare 
 
 New volumes uniform with Professor Dowden's Hamlet. 
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET. Edited by Edward Dowden, Litt.D. 
 Demy 8vo. ^s. 6d. 
 
 KING LEAR. Edited by W. J. Craig. Z'tv/// 8vo. 3s. 6d. 
 ilftetbuen'6 Stant)ar5 Xibrarg 
 
 MEMOIRS OF MY LIFE AND WRITINGS. By Edward 
 Gibbon. Edited, with an Introduction and Notes by G. Birkbeck 
 Hill, LL.D. Crown Svo. Gilt top, ds. 
 
 THE LETTERS OF LORD CHESTERFIELD TO HIS 
 SON. Edited, with an Introduction and Notes by C. Strachey and 
 A. Calthrop. Two volumes. Crown 8z'o. Grit top. 6j. each.
 
 6- Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 
 ^be IRovels ot Cbarles Dickens 
 
 With Introductions by George Gissing, Notes by F. G. Kitton, 
 
 and Illustrations. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Each Volume, cloth 3^. net, leather 45. ()d. net. 
 The first volumes are : 
 
 THE riCKWICK PAPERS. With Illustrations by E. II. New. 
 
 Two Volumes. \_Ready 
 
 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. With Illustrations by R. J. Williams. 
 Two Volumes. [Ready. 
 
 BLEAK HOUSE. With Illustrations by Beatrice Alcock. Two 
 
 Vohtmes. 
 
 OLIVER TWIST. With Illustrations by E. H. New. One Volume. 
 
 Zhc Xlttlc Xibrarg 
 
 With Introductions, Notes, and Photogravure Frontispieces. 
 Pott Zvo. Each Volume, cloth is. 6d. net. ; leather 2s. 6d. net. 
 
 NEW VOLUMES. 
 
 THE EARLY POEMS OF ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. 
 
 Edited by J. C. Collins, M.A. 
 MAUD. By ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. Edited by Elizabeth 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 A LITTLE BOOK OF ENGLISH LYRICS. With Notes. 
 
 PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. By Jane Austen. Edited by 
 
 E. V. Lucas. Two Volutnes. 
 PENDENNIS. By W. M. Thackeray. Edited by S. Gwynn. 
 
 Three volumes. 
 
 EOTHEN. By A. W. Kinglake. With an Introduction and 
 
 Notes. 
 
 LAVENGRO. By George Borrow. Edited by F. Hindes 
 Groome. 2 Volumes. 
 
 CRANFORD. By Mrs. Gaskell. Edited by E. V. Lucas. 
 
 THE INFERNO OF DANTE. Translated by H. F. Gary. 
 Edited by Paget Toynbee. 
 
 JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN. By Mrs. Craik. Edited 
 
 by Annie Matheson. Two volumes. 
 
 A LITTLE BOOK OF SCOTTISH VERSE. Arranged and 
 Edited by T. F. Henderson. 
 
 A LITTLE BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE. Arranged and 
 Edited by Mrs. P. A. Barnett.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 
 
 Poetry 
 
 WRIT IN BARRACKS. By Edgar Wallace. Cr.Zvo. 3^.6^/. 
 
 Mr. Edgar Wallace, a member of the Royal Army Medical Corps, is a follower of 
 Mr._ Kipling, and his ballads of soldier life and sufferings are well-known in South 
 Africa. They are spirited, pathetic, and true, and at the present time they should 
 enjoy a considerable popularity. 
 
 THE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM. Translated by 
 Edward FitzGerald, with a Commentary by H. M. Batson, and 
 a Biography of Omar by E. D. Ross. 6j. 
 
 This edition of the famous book, the text of which is printed by permission of Messrs. 
 Macmillan, is the most complete in existence. It contains FitzGerald's last text, 
 and a very full commentary on each stanza. Professor Ross, who is an admirable 
 Persian_ scholar, contributes a biography, containing many new, valuable, and 
 interesting facts. 
 
 Scientific and Educational 
 
 THE CAPTIVI OF PLAUTUS. Edited, with an Introduction, 
 
 Textual Notes, and a Commentary, by W. M. Lindsay, Fellow of 
 
 Jesus College, O.xford. Demy Zvo. \os. 6d. net. 
 
 For this edition all the important MSS. have been re-collated. An appendix deals 
 with the accentual element in early Latin verse. The Commentary is very full. 
 
 THE CONSTRUCTION OF LARGE INDUCTION COILS. 
 
 By A. T. Hare, M.A. With numerous Diagrams. Deiiiy^vo. 6j. 
 
 THE SCIENCE OF HYGIENE. By W. C. C. Pakes, Guy's 
 Hospital. With many illustrations. Demy 8vo. i^s. 
 
 THE PRINCIPLES OF MAGNETISM AND ELEC- 
 TRICITY: An Elementary Text-Book. By P. L. Gray, B.Sc, 
 formerly Lecturer on Physics in Mason University College, Birming- 
 ham. With numerous diagrams. Crown 2>vo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 LACE-MAKING IN THE MIDLANDS, PAST AND 
 PRESENT. By C. C, Channer and M. E. Roberts. With 16 
 full-page Illustrations. Crown Zvo. is. 6d. 
 
 AGRICULTURAL ZOOLOGY. By Dr. J. Ritzema Bos. 
 
 Translated by J. R. Ainsworth Davis, M.A. With an Introduc- 
 tion by Eleanor A. Ormerod, F.E.S. With 155 Illustrations. 
 Crown ?iVO. 35. 6d. 
 
 A SOUTH AFRICAN ARITHMETIC. By Henry Hill, 
 B.A., Assistant Master at Worcester School, Cape Colony. Crown 
 Svo. 35. 6d. 
 This book has been specially written for use in South African schools. 
 
 A GERMAN COMMERCIAL READER. By S. Bally, M.A. 
 Crown 8vo, 2s. [Meikuen's Commercial Series.
 
 8 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 
 
 Fiction 
 
 THE MASTER CHRISTIAN. By Marie Corelli. Crown 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 QUISANTE. By Anthony Hope. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 A INIASTER of craft. By W. W. Jacobs, Author of 
 'Many Cargoes.' With 12 Illustrations by W. Owen. Crown 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE GATELESS BARRIER. By LuCAS Malet, Author 
 ' The Wages of Sin.' Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 CUNNING MURRELL. By Arthur Morrison, Author of 
 ' A Child of the Jago,' etc. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 FOR BRITAIN'S SOLDIERS : Stories for the War Fund. By 
 RuDYARD Kipling and Others. Edited by C. J. Cutcliffe 
 Hyne. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 A volume of stories, the proceeds of which will be given to the War Fund. 
 Among the contributors are :— Rudyard Kipling, Sir W. Besant, S. R. Crockett, 
 A. E. ^V. Mason, Max Pemberton, H. G. Wells, C. J. C. Hyne, Mrs. Croker. 
 
 THE FOOTSTEPS OF A THRONE. By Max Pemberton. 
 Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 SONS OF THE MORNING. By Eden Phillpotts, Author 
 of ' The Children of the Mist.' With a frontispiece. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE SOFT SIDE. By Henry James, Author of What Maisie 
 
 Knew.' Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 TONGUES OF CONSCIENCE. By Robert Hichens, Author 
 
 of ' Flames.' Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF LONDON. By Dorothea Gerard, 
 Author of ' Lady Baby. ' Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 WOUNDS IN THE RAIN : A Collection of Stories relating 
 to the Spanish-American War of 1S98. By Stephen Crane, 
 Author of ' The Red Badge of Courage. ' Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 WINEFRED. By S. Baring Gould, Author of 'Mehalah.' 
 With 8 Illustrations by Edgar Bundy. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE STRONG ARM. By Robert Barr, Author of 'The 
 Countess Tekla.' Illustrated. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. By Richard Marsh. 
 Author of 'The Beetle," Marvels and Mysteries,' etc. Crown Svo. 6s.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 9 
 
 SERVANTS OF SIN. By J. Bloundelle Burton, Author 
 ' The Clash of Arms.' Crown 2>vo. 6s. 
 
 PATH AND GOAL. By Ada Cambridge. Crown Zvo. 6j-. 
 
 ELMSLIE'S DRAG-NET. By E. H. STRAIN. Crown Zvo. 6s. 
 
 A FOREST OFFICER. By Mrs. Penny. CrownSvo. 6s. 
 
 A story of jungle life in India. 
 
 FITZJAMES. By Lilian Street. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 XTbe IRovelist 
 
 A monthly series of novels by popular authors at Sixpence. Each 
 Number is as long as the average Six Shilling Novel. Numbers I. to 
 XII. arc now ready : — 
 
 XIII. THE POMP OF THE LAVILETTES. Gilbert Parker. 
 
 XIV. A MAN OF MARK. Anthony Hope. 
 
 XV. THE CARISSIMA. Lucas Malet. 
 
 XVL THE LADY'S WALK. Mrs. Oliphant. 
 
 lOciober. 
 XVII. DERRICK VAUGHAN. Edna Lyall. 
 
 \_November. 
 
 /IDetbuen*s Sijpenn^ Xibrarg 
 
 A New Series of Copyright Books. 
 I. THE MATABELE CAMPAIGN. Maj. -General Baden-Powell. 
 II. THE DOWNFALL OF PREMPEH. Do. 
 
 HI. MY DANISH SWEETHEART. W. Clark Russell. 
 IV. IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. S. Baring Gould. 
 V. PEGGY OF THE BARTONS. B. M. Croker. 
 
 VL BADEN-POWELL OF MAFEKING : a Biography. 
 J. S. Fletcher. 
 
 VII. ROBERTS OF PRETORIA. J. S. Fletcher. 
 
 A 2
 
 A CATALOGUE OF 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's 
 
 PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Poetry 
 
 Rudyard Kipling. BARRACK-ROOM 
 BALLADS. By Rudyakd Kipling. 
 68^A Thousand. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 Leather, 6s. net. 
 
 ' Mr. Kipling's verse is strong, vivid, full 
 of character. . . . Unmistakeable genius 
 rings in every line.' — Times. 
 
 ' The ballads teem with imagination, they 
 palpitate with emotion. We read them 
 with laughter and tears ; the metres throb 
 in our pulses, the cunningly ordered 
 words tingle with life ; and if this be not 
 poetry, what is ? '—Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 Rudyard Kipling. THE SEVEN 
 SEAS. By Rudyard Kipling. 
 57/A Thousand. Cr. 8vo. Buckram, 
 gilt top. 6s. Leather, 6s. net. 
 
 ' The Empire has found a singer ; it is no 
 depreciation of the songs to say that 
 statesmen may have, one way or other, 
 to take account of them.' — Manchester 
 
 Guardian. 
 
 'Animated through and through with in- 
 dubitable genius.' — Daily Telegraph. 
 
 "Q." POEMS AND BALLADS. By 
 
 "Q. " Crown Qvo. y. 6d. 
 
 "Q." GREEN BAYS: Verses and 
 Parodies. By"Q." Second Edition, 
 Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 E. Mackay. A SONG OF THE SEA. 
 By Eric Mackay. Second Edition. 
 
 Fcap. 8vo. 5J. 
 
 H, Ibsen. BRAND. 
 Henrik Ibsen. 
 William Wilson. 
 Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 A Drama by 
 Translated by 
 Third Edition. 
 
 A. D. Godley. LYRA FRIVOLA. By 
 
 A. D. Godley, M.A., Fellow of 
 
 Magdalen College, Oxford. Third 
 
 Edition. Pott 8vo. 2S. 6d. 
 
 ' Combines a pretty wit with remarkably 
 
 neat versification. . . . Every one will 
 
 wish there was more of it.' — Times. 
 
 A. D. Godley. VERSES TO ORDER. 
 By A. D. Godley. Crown 8vo. 
 2S. 6d. net. 
 
 ' A capital specimen of light academic 
 poetry.' — St. James's Gazette. 
 
 3. G. Cordery. THE ODYSSEY OF 
 HOMER. A Translation by J. G. 
 COKDERY. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 II 
 
 Belles Lettres, Anthologies, etc. 
 
 E. L. Stevenson. VAILIMA LET- 
 TERS. By Robert Louis Steven- 
 son. With an Etched Portrait by 
 William Strang. Second Edition. 
 Crown 8vo, Buckram. 6s. 
 
 'A fascinating book.' — .'standard. 
 
 ' Unique in Literature.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 G. WyncUiam. THE POEMS OF WIL- 
 LIAM SHAKESPEARE. Edited 
 with an Introduction and Notes by 
 George Wyndham, M.P. Deiuy 
 %z<o. Buckram, gilt top. \os. 6d. 
 This edition contains the ' Venus, ' ' Lucrece, 
 and Sonnets, and is prefaced with an 
 elaborate introduction of over 140 pp. 
 'We have no hesitation in describing Mr. 
 George Wyndham's introduction as a 
 masterly piece of criticism, and all who 
 love our Elizabethan literature will find a 
 very garden of delight in it.' — Spectator. 
 
 W, E. Henley. ENGLISH LYRICS. 
 
 Selected and Edited by W\ E. 
 
 Henley. Crown 8w. Gilt top. 
 
 35. 6d. 
 
 ' It is a body of choice and lovely poetry.' — 
 
 Binningham Gazette. 
 
 Henley and Whibley. A BOOK OF 
 ENGLISH PROSE. Collected by 
 W. E. Henley and Charles 
 Whibley. Crown 8vo. Buckram, 
 gilt top. ds. 
 
 H. C. Beeching. LYRA SACRA : An 
 
 Anthology of Sacred Verse. Edited 
 
 by H. C. Beeching, M.A. Crown 
 
 8vo. Buckram. 6j. 
 
 'A charming selection, which maintains a 
 
 lofty standard of excellence.' — Times. 
 
 "Q." THE GOLDEN POMP. A Pro- 
 cession of English Lyrics. Arranfjed 
 by A. T. QuiLLER Couch. Crown 
 8vo. Buckram. 65. 
 
 W. B. Yeats. AN ANTHOLOGY OF 
 IRISH VERSE. Edited by W. B. 
 Yeats. Revised and Enlarged 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. y. 6d. 
 ' An attractive and catholic selection,' — 
 Times. 
 G. W. Steevens. MONOLOGUES OF 
 THE DEAD, By G. W. STEEVENS. 
 Foolscap 8va, ^s, td. 
 
 W. M. Dixon. A PRIMER OF 
 TENNYSON. By W. M. Dixon, 
 
 M.A. Cr. 8vo. zs. 6d. 
 ' Much sound and well-expressed criticism. 
 The bibliography is a boon.' — Speaker. 
 
 W. A. Craigie. A PRIMER OF 
 BURNS. By W. A. Craigie. 
 Cro7v?t 8vo. 2S. 6d. 
 'A valuable addition to the literature of the 
 poet.' — Titnes. 
 
 L.Magnus. A PRIMER OF WORDS- 
 WORTH. By Laurie Magnus. 
 Crown 8V0. 2S. 6d. 
 ' A valuable contribution to V/'ordsworthian 
 literature.' — Literature. 
 
 Steme. THE LIFE AND OPINIONS 
 OF TRISTRAM SHANDY. By 
 Lawrence Sterne. With an In- 
 troduction by Charles Whibley, 
 and a Portrait. 2 vols. ys. 
 
 Congreve. THE COMEDIES OF 
 WILLIAM CONGREVE. With an 
 Introduction by G. S. Street, and 
 a Portrait. 2 vols. 7s. 
 
 Morier. THE ADVENTURES OF 
 HAJJI BABA OF ISPAHAN. By 
 James Morier. With an Introduc- 
 tion by E. G. Browne, M.A. and a 
 Portrait. 2 vols. js. 
 
 Walton. THE LIVES OF DONNE, 
 WOTTON, HOOKER, HERBERT 
 AND SANDERSON. By Izaak 
 Walton. With an Introduction by 
 Vernon Blackburn, and a Por- 
 trait. 3.r. 6d. 
 
 Johnson. THE LIVES OF THE 
 ENGLISH POETS. By Samuel 
 Johnson, LL.D. With an Intro- 
 duction by J. H. Millar, and a Por- 
 trait. 3 vols. los. 6d. 
 
 Bums. THE POEMS OF ROBERT 
 BURNS. Edited by Andrew Lang 
 and W. A. Craigie. With Portrait, 
 Second Edition, Demy 8vo, gilt top. 
 6s. 
 
 'Among editions in one volume, this will 
 take the place of authority.'— /"iwi.
 
 12 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 F. Langbridge. BALLADS OF THE 
 BRAVE ; Poems of Chivalry, Enter- 
 prise, Courage, and Constancy. 
 Edited by Rev. F. Langbridge. 
 
 Second Edition. Cr. ?,vo. 3^. 6(f. 
 School Edition. 2J. td. 
 ' The book is full of splendid things.'— 
 IVortd. 
 
 ^etbucn's StauDarD Xibrars 
 
 COMMEDIA DI 1 WOOD. Edited by C. G. Crump, 
 
 Dante. LA 
 
 DANTE ALIGHIERI. The Italian 
 Text edited by PAGET TOYNBEE, 
 M.A. Crown ivo. 6s. 
 ' A carefully-revised text, printed with 
 beautiful clearness.'— G/aJ'^t'w/ Herald. 
 
 Gibbon. THE DECLINE AND 
 FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. 
 By Edward Gibbon. A New Edi- 
 tion, Edited with Notes, Appendices, 
 and Maps, by J. B. BURY, LL.D., 
 Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin. 
 In Seven Volumes. Demy 8z-'0. Gilt 
 top. 8 J. 6d. each. Also Cr. 8fO. 6j. 
 each. 
 ' The time has certainly arrived for a new 
 edition of Gibbon's great work. . . . Pro- 
 fessor Bury is the right man to under- 
 take this task. His learning is amazing, 
 both in extent and accuracy. The book 
 is issued in a handy form, and at a 
 moderate price, and it is admirably 
 printed.' — Times. 
 ' At last there is an adequate modern edition 
 of Gibbon. . . . The best edition the 
 nineteenth century could produce. — 
 Manchester Guardian. 
 ' A great piece of editing.' — Academy. 
 ' The greatest of English, perhaps of all, 
 historians has never been presented to 
 the public in a more convenient and 
 attractive form. No higher praise can 
 be bestowed upon Professor Bury than 
 to say, as may be said with truth, that 
 he is worthy of being ranked with Guizot 
 and Milman.'— Z'a:/j' News. 
 
 C. G. Crump. THE HISTORY OF 
 THE LIFE OF THOMAS ELL- 
 
 M.A. Crown Zvo. 6s. 
 
 This edition is the only one which contains 
 the complete book as originally pub- 
 lished. It contains a long Introduction 
 and many Footnotes. 
 
 ' ' ' The History of Thomas Ell wood "_ holds a 
 high place among the masterpieces of 
 autobiography, and we know few books 
 that better deserve reprinting. More- 
 over, Mr. C. G. Crump's new edition is 
 accurate and convenient, and we com- 
 mend it ungrudgingly to all those who 
 love sound and vigorous English.' 
 
 —Daily Mail. 
 
 Tennyson. THE EARLY POEMS OF 
 ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. 
 Edited, with Notes and an Introduc- 
 tion by J. Churton Collins, M.A. 
 Crown ?)V0. 6s, 
 
 An elaborate edition of the celebrated 
 volume which was published in its 
 final and definitive form in 1853. This 
 edition contains a long Introduction and 
 copious Notes, textual and explanatory. 
 It also contains in an Appendix all 
 the Poems which Tennyson afterwards 
 omitted. 
 
 'Mr. Collins is almost an ideal editor of 
 Tennyson. His qualities as a critic are 
 an exact and accurate scholarship, and 
 a literary judgment, which has been 
 trained and polished by the closest study 
 of classics both ancient and modern. 
 Mr. Collins' introduction is a thoroughly 
 sound and sane appreciation of the 
 merits and demerits of Tennyson.' — 
 Literature. 
 
 Tlbe Worfts of Sbakespeare 
 General Editor, Edward Dowden, Litt. D. 
 Messrs. Methuen have in preparation an Edition of Shakespeare in 
 single Plays. Each play will be edited with a full Introduction, Textual 
 Notes, and a Commentary at the foot of the page. 
 
 The first volume is : 
 HAMLET. Edited by EDWARD 
 
 DOWDKN. Demy Svo, 
 'An admirable edition. 
 
 ZS. 6d. 
 
 , , A comely 
 
 volume, admirably printed and produced, 
 and containing all that a student of 
 " Hamlet " need require.' — Speaker. 
 ' Fully up to the level of recent scholarship,' 
 both English and German. — Academy.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 13 
 
 ^be IRovels of Cbarlcs Dicftcns 
 
 Crown ^vo. Each Volume, cloth 35. net ; leather i,s. 6d. net. 
 
 Messrs, Methuen have in preparation an editionof those novels of Charles 
 Dickens which have now passed out of copyright. Mr. George Gissing, 
 whose critical study of Dickens is both sympathetic and acute, has written an 
 Introduction to each of the books, and a very attractive feature of this edition 
 will be the illustrations of the old houses, inns, and buildings, which Dickens 
 described, and which have now in many instances disappeared under the 
 touch of modern civilisation. Another valuable feature will be a series of 
 topographical and general notes to each book by Mr. F. G. Kitton. The books 
 will be produced with the greatest care as to printing, paper and binding. 
 
 The first volumes are : 
 
 THE PICKWICK PAPERS. With Illustrations by E. H. New. Two Volumes. 
 ' As pleasant a copy as any one could desire. The notes add much to the value of the 
 edition, and Mr. New's illustrations are also historical. The volumes promise well 
 for the success of the edition.' — Scotsman. 
 
 ITbe Utttle Xlbrarg 
 
 ' The volumes are compact in size, printed on thin but good paper in clear type, 
 prettily and at the same time strongly bound, and altogether good to look upon and 
 handle.' — Outlook. 
 
 Pott %vo. Each Volume, cloth \s. 6d. net, leather 2s. 6d. net. 
 
 Messrs. Methuen intend to produce a series of small books under the 
 above title, containing some of the famous books in English and other 
 literatures, in the domains of fiction, poetry, and belles lettres. The series 
 will also contain several volumes of selections in prose and verse. 
 
 The books will be edited with the most sympathetic and scholarly care. 
 Each one will contain an Introduction which will give (i) a short biography of 
 the author, (2) a critical estimate of the book. Where they are necessary, 
 short notes will be added at the foot of the page. 
 
 Each book will have a portrait or frontispiece in photogravure, and the 
 volumes will be produced with great care in a style uniform with that of ' The 
 Library of Devotion.' 
 
 The first volumes are : 
 
 VANITY FAIR. By W. M. Thack- 
 eray. With an Introduction by S. 
 GwYNN. Illustrated by G. P. 
 Jacomb Hood. Three Volmnes. 
 
 ' Delightful little volumes.' — Publishers' 
 Circular. 
 
 THE PRINCESS. By Alfred, Lord 
 
 Tennyson. Edited by Elizabeth 
 
 Wordsworth. Illustrated by W. 
 
 E, F. Britten. 
 
 'Just what a pocket edition should be. 
 
 Miss Wordsworth contributes an accept- 
 
 ableintroduction, as well as notes which 
 
 one is equally glad to gst.'— Guardian. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. By Alfred, Lord 
 Tennyson. Edited, with an Intro- 
 duction and Notes, by H. C. Beech- 
 IXG, M.A. 
 
 'An exquisite little volume, which will be 
 gladly welcomed.' — Glasgow Herald. 
 
 ' The introduction, analysis, and notes by 
 the Rev. H. C. Beeching are all of the 
 sound literary quality that was to be 
 expected." — Guardian. 
 
 ' The footnotes are scholarly, interesting, 
 and not super-abundant.' — Standard. 
 
 ' It is difficult to conceive a more attractive 
 edition.' — St. James's Gazette.
 
 14 
 
 Messrs, Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 tlbe Xittle ©utocs 
 
 Pott %vo, cloth y. ; 
 
 OXFORD AND ITS COLLEGES. 
 By J. Wells, M.A., Fellow and 
 Tutor of Wadham College. Illus- 
 trated by E. H. New. Third Edition. 
 'An admirable and accurate little treatise, 
 
 attractively illustrated.' — World. 
 'Aluminous and tasteful little volame.' — 
 Daily Chronicle. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE AND ITS COL- 
 LEGES. By A. Hamilton Thomp- 
 son. Illustrated by E. H. New. 
 ' It is brightly written and learned, and is 
 just such a book as a cultured visitor 
 needs.' — Scotsman. 
 
 leather, 35. 6d. net. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S COUNTRY. By 
 B. C. WiNDLE, F.R.S., M.A. Illus- 
 trated by E. H. New. Second Edition. 
 
 ' Mr. Windle is thoroughly conversant with 
 his subject, and the work is exceedingly 
 well done. The drawings, by Mr. 
 Edmund H. New, add much to the 
 attractiveness of the volume.' — Scots- 
 man. 
 
 ' One of the most charming guide books. 
 Both for the library and as a travelling 
 companion the book is equally choice 
 and serviceable.' — Academy. 
 
 ' A guide book of the best kind, which 
 takes rank as literature.' — Guardian. 
 
 Illustrated and Gift Books 
 
 Phil May. THE PHIL MAY 
 ALBUM, ^to. 6s. 
 ' There is a laugh in each drawing.' — 
 Standard. 
 
 A. H. Milne. ULYSSES; OR, DE 
 ROUGEMONT OF TROY. De- 
 scribed and depicted by A, H.Milne. 
 Small quarto. 3^. dd. 
 ' Clever, droll, smart.' — Guardian. 
 
 Edmund Selous. TOMMY SMITH'S 
 
 ANIMALS. By Edmund Selous. 
 
 Illustrated by G. W. Ord. Fcap. %vo. 
 
 Q.S. 6d. 
 
 A little book designed to teach children 
 
 respect and reverence for animals. 
 'A quaint, fascinating little book: a nur- 
 sery classic' — Athenceum. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE CROCK OF 
 GOLD. Fairy Stories told by S. 
 Baring Gould. Crown Zvo. 6s. 
 'Twelve delightful fairy tales.' — Punch. 
 
 M. L. Gwynn. A BIRTHDAY BOOK. 
 Arranged and Edited by M. L. 
 Gwynn, Dany 8vo. 12s. 6d. 
 
 This is a birthday-book of exceptional 
 dignity, and the extracts have been 
 chosen with particular care. 
 
 John Bunyan. THE PILGRIM'S 
 PROGRESS. By John Bunyan. 
 Edited, with an Introduction, by C. H. 
 
 Firth, M.A. With 39 Illustrations 
 by R. Anning Bell. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 "The best " Pilgrim's Progress.'" — 
 
 Educational Times. 
 
 F. D. Bedford. NURSERY RHYMES. 
 With many Coloured Pictures by F. 
 D. Bedford. Super Royal %vo. 55. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. A BOOK OF 
 FAIRY TALES retold by S. Baring 
 Gould. With numerous Illustra- 
 tions and Initial Letters by Arthur 
 J. Gaskin. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 
 Buckram. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. OLD ENGLISH 
 FAIRY TALES. Collected and 
 edited by S. Baring Gould. With 
 Numerous Illustrations by F. D. 
 Bedford. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 
 Buckram. 6s. 
 'A charming volume.' — Guardian. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. A BOOK OF 
 NURSERY SONGS AND 
 RHYMES. Edited by S. Baring 
 Gould, and Illustrated by the Bir- 
 mingham Art School. Buckram, gilt 
 top. Croivn 8vo. 6s, 
 
 H. C. Beaching. A BOOK OF 
 CHRISTMAS VERSE. Edited by 
 H. C. Beeching, M.A., and Illus- 
 trated by Walter Crane. Cr. 8vo, 
 gilt top, 3s. 6d.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 15 
 
 History 
 
 Hinders Petrie. A HISTORY OF 
 EGYPT, FROM THE Earliest Times 
 TO THE Present Day. Edited by 
 W. M. Flinders Petrie, D.C.L., 
 LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at 
 U niversity College. Fully Illustrated. 
 In Six Volumes, Cr. 8vo. 6s. each. 
 
 Vol. I. Prehistoric Times to 
 XVlTH Dynasty. W, M. F. 
 Petrie. Fourth Edition. 
 
 Vol. II. The XVIIth and 
 
 XVII ITH Dynasties. W. M. 
 
 F. Petrie. Third Edition. 
 Vol. IV. The Egypt of the 
 
 Ptolemies. J. P. Mahaffy. 
 Vol. V. Roman Egypt. J. G. 
 
 Milne. 
 ' A history written in the spirit of scientific 
 precision so worthily represented by Dr. 
 Petrie and his school cannot but pro- 
 mote sound and accurate study, and 
 supply a vacant place in the English 
 literature of Egyptology." — Times. 
 
 Flmders Petrie. RELIGION AND 
 
 CONSCIENCE IN ANCIENT 
 EGYPT. By W. M. Flinders 
 Petrie, D. C. L. , LL. D. Fully Illus- 
 trated. Crown Zvo. zs. 6d. 
 'The lectures will afford a fund of valuable 
 information for students of ancient 
 ethics.' — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 Flinders Petrie. SYRIA AND 
 
 EGYPT, FROM THE TELL EL 
 
 AMARNA TABLETS. By W. M. 
 
 Flinders Petrie, D.C.L., LL.D. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. 
 
 ' A marvellous record. The addition made 
 
 to our knowledge is nothing short of 
 
 amazing.' — Times. 
 
 ninders Petrie. EGYPTIAN TALES. 
 
 Edited by W. M. Flinders Petrie. 
 
 Illustrated by Tristram Ellis. In 
 
 Two I'olumes. Cr. 8vo. y- ^^- (cich. 
 
 ' Invaluable as a picture of life in Palestine 
 
 and Egypt.' — Daily News. 
 
 Flinders Petrie. EGYPTIAN DECO- 
 RATIVE ART. By W. M. Flin- 
 ders Petrie. With 120 Illustrations. 
 Cr. 8vo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 ' In these lectures he displays rare skill in 
 elucidating the development of decora- 
 tive art in Egypt.' — Times. 
 
 C. W. Oman. A HISTORY OF THE 
 ART OF WAR. Vol. 11. : The 
 Middle Ages, from the Fourth to the 
 Fourteenth Century. By C. W. 
 Oman, M.A., Fellow of AH Souls', 
 Oxford. Illustrated. Demy 8vo. 21s. 
 
 ' The whole art of war in its historic evolu- 
 tion has never been treated on such an 
 ample and comprehensive scale, and we 
 question if any recent contribution to 
 the exact history of the world has pos- 
 sessed more enduring value.' — Daily 
 Chronicle. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE TRAGEDY 
 OF THE C/ESARS. With nume- 
 rous Illustrations from Busts, Gems, 
 Cameos,etc. By S. Baring Gould. 
 
 Fourth Edition. Royal 8vo. 151. 
 
 'A most splendid and fascinating book on a 
 subject of undying interest. The great 
 feature of the book is the use the author 
 has made of the existing portraits of 
 the Caesars and the admirable critical 
 subtlety he has exhibited in dealing with 
 this line of research. It is brilliantly 
 written, and the illustrations are sup- 
 plied on a scale of profuse magnificence.' 
 — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 F. W. Maitland. CANON LAW IN 
 ENGLAND. By F. W. Maitland, 
 LL.D., Downing Professor of the 
 Laws of England in the University 
 of Cambridge. Royal 8vo. 'js. 6d. 
 
 ' Professor Maitland has put students of 
 English law under a fresh debt. These 
 essays are landmarks in the study of the 
 history of Canon Law.' — Times.
 
 i6 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 H. de B. Gibbins. INDUSTRY IN 
 ENGLAND : HISTORICAL OUT- 
 LINES. By H. DE B. Gibbins, 
 Litt.D., M.A. With 5 Maps. Se- 
 cond Edition, Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. 
 
 H. E. Egerton. A HISTORY OF 
 BRITISH COLONIAL POLICY. 
 By H. E. Egerton, M.A. Demy 
 Svo. 12s. 6d. 
 
 ' It is a good book, distinguished by accu- 
 racy in detail, clear arrangement of facts, 
 and a broad grasp of principles.' — 
 Manchester Guardian. 
 
 Albert Sorel. THE EASTERN 
 QUESTION IN THE EIGH- 
 TEENTH CENTURY. By Albert 
 SoREL. Translated by F. C. Bram- 
 WELL, M.A. Cr. Svo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 C. H. Grinling. A HISTORY OF 
 THE GREAT NORTHERN RAIL- 
 WAY, 1845-95. By C. H. Grin- 
 ling. With Illustrations. DemyZvo. 
 
 \Q5. 6d. 
 ' Mr. Grinling has done for a Railway what 
 Macaulay did for English History.' — 
 The Engineer. 
 
 W. Sterry. ANNALS OF ETON 
 COLLEGE. By W. Sterry, M.A. 
 With numerous Illustrations. Deftiy 
 Svo. 75. 6d. 
 
 ' A treasury of quaint and interesting read- 
 ing. Mr. Sterry has by his skill and 
 vivacity given these records new life.' — 
 Acadei/iy. 
 
 G.W.Fisher. ANNALS OF SHREWS- 
 BURY SCHOOL. By G. W. 
 Fisher, M.A. With numerous Illus- 
 trations. Demy Svo. \os. bd. 
 'This careful, erudite book.' — Daily 
 
 Chronicle. 
 ' A book of which Old Salopians are sure 
 to be proud.' — Globe. 
 
 J. Sargeaunt. ANNALS OF WEST- 
 MINSTER SCHOOL. By J. Sar- 
 geaunt, M.A. With numerous 
 Illustrations. Demy Svo. 7s. bd. 
 
 A. Clark. THE COLLEGES OF 
 OXFORD : Their History and their 
 Traditions. Edited by A. Clark, 
 M.A., Fellow of Lincoln College. 
 Svo. IIS. bd. 
 
 ' A work which will be appealed to for 
 many years as the standard book.' — 
 Athenaum. 
 
 T. M. Taylor. A CONSTITUTIONAL 
 AND POLITICAL HISTORY OF 
 ROME. By T. M. Taylor, M.A., 
 Fellow of Gonville and Caius College, 
 Cambridge. Crown Svo. 75. bd. 
 
 ' We fully recognise the value of this care- 
 fully written work, and admire especially 
 the fairness and sobriety of his judgment 
 and the human interest with which he 
 has inspired a subject which in some 
 hands becomes a mere series of cold 
 abstractions. It is a work that will be 
 stimulating to the student of Roman 
 history. ' — A thenaum. 
 
 J. Wells. A SHORT HISTORY OF 
 ROME. By J. WELLS, M.A., 
 Fellow and Tutor of Wadham Coll. , 
 Oxford. Third Edition. With 3 
 Maps. Crown Svo. y. bd. 
 
 This book is intended for the Middle and 
 Upper Forms of Public Schools and for 
 Pass Students at the Universities. It 
 contains copious Tables, etc. 
 
 ' An original work written on an original 
 plan, and with uncommon freshness and 
 vigour. ' — Speaker. 
 
 0. Browning. A SHORT HISTORY 
 OF MEDIEVAL ITALY, A.D. 
 1250-1530. By Oscar Browning, 
 Fellow and Tutor of King's College, 
 Cambridge. In Two Volumes. Cr. 
 Svo. 55. each. 
 
 Vol. I. 1250-1409. — Guelphs and 
 Ghibellines. 
 
 Vol. II. 1409-1530. — The Age of 
 the Condottieri. 
 
 O'Grady. THE STORY OF IRE- 
 LAND. By Standish O'Grady, 
 Author of ' Finn and his Companions. 
 
 Crown Svo. 2s. 6d.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 17 
 
 Edited by J. B. Bury, M.A. 
 
 ZACHARIAH OF MITYLENE. 
 Translated into English by F. J. 
 Hamilton, D.D., and E. W. 
 Brooks. Demy %vo. 12s. 6d. net. 
 
 EVAGRIUS. Edited by Professor 
 
 L£oN Parmentier and M. Bidez. 
 Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF PSELLUS. 
 By C. Sathas. Demy Svo. 15^. 
 net. 
 
 Biography 
 
 R. L. Stevenson. THE LETTERS 
 OF ROBERT LOUIS STEVEN- 
 SON TO HIS FAMILY AND 
 FRIENDS. Selected and Edited, 
 with Notes and Introductions, by 
 Sidney Colvin. Third Edition. 
 Demy Svo, 2 vo/s., 251. net. 
 
 'Irresistible in their raciness, their variety, 
 their animation ... of exiraorainary 
 fascination. A delightful inheritance, 
 the truest record of a "richly com- 
 pounded spirit " that the literature of 
 our time has preserved.' — Times. 
 
 ' There are few books so interesting, so 
 moving, and so valuable as this collec- 
 tion of letters. One can only commend 
 people to read and re-rend the book. The 
 volumes are beautiful, and Mr. Colvin's 
 part of the work could not have been 
 better done, his introduction is a master- 
 piece.' — Spectator. 
 
 J. G. MiUais. THE LIFE AND 
 LETTERS OF SIR JOHN 
 EVERETT MILLAIS, President of 
 the Royal Academy. By his Son, 
 J. G. Millais. With 319 Illus- 
 trations, of which 9 are in Photo- 
 gravure. Second Edition. 2 vols, 
 Royal Svo, 32.?. net. 
 
 ' The illustrations make the book delightful 
 to handle or to read. The eye lingers 
 lovingly upon the beautiful pictures.' — 
 Standard. 
 
 ' This charming book is a gold mine of good 
 things.' — Daily News. 
 
 A3 
 
 ' This splendid work.' — World. 
 
 ' Of such absorbing interest is it, of such 
 completeness in scope and beauty. 
 Special tribute must be paid to the 
 extraordinary completeness of the illus- 
 trations. ' — Graphic. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE LIFE OF 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. By 
 S. Baring Gould. With over 450 
 Illustrations in the Text and 12 
 Photogravure Plates. Large quarto. 
 Gilt top. 36.?. 
 ' The main feature of this gorgeous volume 
 is its great wealth of beautiful photo- 
 gravures and finely- executed wood 
 engravings, constituting a complete 
 pictorial chronicle of Napoleon I.'s 
 personal history from the days of his early 
 childhood at Ajaccio to the date of his 
 second interment.' — Daily Telegraph. 
 
 P. H. Colomb. MEMOIRS OF AD- 
 MIRAL SIR A. COOPER KEY. 
 By Admiral P. H. Colomb. With 
 a Portrait. Demy Svo. 165. 
 
 Morris Fuller. THE LIFE AND 
 WRITI.XGS OF JOHN DAVEN- 
 ANT, D.D. {1571-1641), Bishop of 
 Salisbury. By Morris Fuller, 
 B. D. Detny Svo. 10s. 6d. 
 
 J. M. Rigg. ST. ANSELM OF 
 CANTERBURY: A Chapter in 
 THE History of Religion. By 
 J. M. Rigg. Demy Svo. js. 6(f.
 
 i8 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 F. W. Joyce. THE LIFE OF 
 SIR FREDERICK GORE OUSE- 
 LEY. By F. W. Joyce, M.A. ^s. 6d. 
 
 W. G. CoUingT^ood. THE LIFE OF 
 JOHN RUSKIN. By W. G. 
 COLLINGWOOD, M.A. With Por- 
 traits, and 13 Drawings by Mr. 
 Ruskin. Second Edition. 2 vols. 
 8vo. 32^. Cheap Edition. Crown 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 C. Waldstein. JOHN RUSKIN, By 
 Charles Waldstein, M.A. With 
 a Photogravure Portrait, PostZvo. 5^. 
 
 A. M. F. Darmesteter, THE LIFE 
 OF ERNEST RENAN. By 
 
 Madame Darmesteter. With 
 Portrait. Second Ediiioti. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 W. H. Button. THE LIFE OF SIR 
 
 THOMAS MORE. By W. H. 
 
 HUTTON, M.A. With Portraits. 
 
 Second Edition. Cr, 8vo. 5J. 
 
 ' The book lays good claim to high rank 
 among our biographies. It is excellently, 
 even lovingly, written.' — Scotsman. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE VICAR OF 
 MORWENSTOW: A Biography. 
 By S. Baring Gould, M.A. A 
 new and Revised Edition. With 
 Portrait. Crown 8vo. y. 6d. 
 
 A completely new edition of the well known 
 biography of R. S. Hawker. 
 
 Travel, Adventure and Topography 
 
 Sven Hedin. THROUGH ASIA. By 
 
 Sven Hedin, Gold Medallist of the 
 
 Royal Geographical Society. With 
 
 300 Illustrations from Sketches 
 
 and Photographs by the Author, 
 
 and Maps. 2 vols. Royal 8vo. 20s. net. 
 
 •One of the greatest books of the_ kind 
 issued during the century. It is im- 
 possible to give an adequate idea of the 
 richness of the contents of this book, 
 nor of its abounding attractions as a story 
 of travel unsurpassed in geographical 
 and human interest. Much of it is a 
 revelation. Altogether the work is one 
 which in solidity, novelty, and interest 
 must take a first rank among publica- 
 tions of its class.' — Times. 
 
 F. H. Skrine and E. D. Ross. THE 
 'HEART OF ASIA. By F. H. 
 Skrine and E. D. Ross. With 
 Maps and many Illustrations by 
 VeRESTCHAGIN. Large Crown 8vo. 
 ici. 6d. net. 
 "-This volume will form a landmark in our 
 
 knowledge of Central Asia. . . . Illumin- 
 ating and convincing.' — Times. 
 
 R. E. Peary. NORTHWARD OVER 
 THE GREAT ICE. ByR.E. Peary, 
 Gold Medallist of the Royal Geogra- 
 phical Society. With over 800 Illus- 
 trations. 2vols, Royal8vo. 32J. net. 
 ' His book will take its place among the per- 
 manent literature of Arctic exploration.' 
 — Times. 
 
 E. A. FitzGerald. THE HIGHEST 
 
 ANDES. By E. A. FitzGerald. 
 With 2 Maps, 51 Illustrations, 13 of 
 which are in Photogravure, and a 
 Panorama. Royal 8vo, 30J. net. 
 Also a Small Edition on Hand-made 
 Paper, limited to 50 Copies, 4/0, 
 
 ' The record of the first ascent of the highest 
 mountain yet conquered by mortal man. 
 A volume which will continue to be the 
 classic book of travel on this region of 
 the Andes." — Dail^ Chronicle.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 T9 
 
 F. W. Christian, THE CAROLINE 
 ISLANDS. By F. W. Christian. 
 With many Illustrations and Maps. 
 Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d. net. 
 
 'A real contribution to our knowledge of 
 the peoples and islands of Micronesia, 
 as well as fascinating as a narrative of 
 travels and adventure.' — Scotsman. 
 
 H. H. Johnston. BRITISH CEN- 
 TRAL AFRICA. By Sir H. H. 
 Johnston, K.C.B. With nearly 
 Two Hundred Illustrations, and Six 
 Maps. Second Edition. Crown ^ta. 
 18s. net. 
 
 ' A fascinating book, written with equal 
 skill and charm — the work at once of a 
 literary artist and of a man of action 
 who is singularly wise, brave, and ex- 
 perienced. It abounds in admirable 
 sketches. ' — lVest?ninster Gazette. 
 
 Fraser. ROUND THE WORLD 
 ON A WHEEL. By John Fo.stf.r 
 Eraser. With 100 Illustrations. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A classic of cycling, graphic and witty.' — 
 Yorkshire Pest. 
 
 R, L. Jefferson. A NEW RIDE TO 
 KHIVA By R. L. Jeffkrson. 
 
 Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 The account of an adventurous ride on a 
 bicycle through Russia and the deserts 
 of Asia to Khiva. 
 
 • An exceptionally fascinating 
 travel.'— Pa// Matt Gazette. 
 
 book of 
 
 K. Trotter. THE NIGER 
 SOURCES. By Colonel J. K. 
 Trotter, R.A. With a Map and 
 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. sj. 
 
 L, Decle. THREE YEARS IN Michael Davitt. LIFE AND PRO- 
 SAVAGE AFRICA. By Lionel \ GRESS IN AUSTRALASIA. By 
 Decle. With 100 Illustmtions and | Michael Davitt, M.P. 500 pp. 
 5 Maps. Second Edition. Demy 8vo. ' With 2 Maps. Crotvn 8i'£>. 6s. 
 10s. 6d. net. \ 
 
 ' Its bright pages give a better general 
 survey of Africa from the Cape to the 
 Equator than any single volume that 
 has yet been published.' — Times. 
 
 A. Htilme Beaman, TWENTY 
 YEARS IN THE NEAR EAST. 
 By A. HuLME Beaman. Demy 
 8vo. With Portrait. 105. 6d. 
 
 Henri of Orleans. FROM TONKIN 
 TO INDIA. By Prince Henri of 
 Orleans. Translated by Hamley 
 Bent, M.A. With 100 Illustrations 
 and a Map. Cr. .i^to, gilt top. 25s. 
 
 S. L. Hinde. THE FALL OF THE 
 CONGO ARABS. By S. L. Hinde. 
 With Plans, etc. Demy 8vo. \2.s. 6d. 
 
 A. St. H. Gibbons. EXPLORATION 
 AND HUNTING IN CENTRAL 
 AFRICA. By Major A. St. H. 
 Gibbons. With full-page Illustra- 
 tions by C. Whymper, and Maps. 
 Demy 8vo. 155. 
 
 W. J. Galloway. ADVANCED AUS- 
 TRALIA. By William J. Gal- 
 loway, M. P. Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 ' This is an unusally thorough and informa- 
 tive little work.' — Mornini^ Post. 
 
 W. Crooke. THE NORTH- 
 WESTERN PROVINCES OF 
 INDIA : Their Ethnology and 
 Administration. By W. Crooke. 
 With Maps and Illustrations. Demy 
 Zvo. Tos. 6d. 
 
 A. Boisragon. THE BENIN MAS- 
 SACRE. By Captain Boisragon. 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 ' If the story had been written four hundred 
 years ago it would be read to-day as an 
 English classic' — Scotsman. 
 
 H. S. Cowper. THE HILL OF THE 
 GRACES : OR, the Great Stone 
 Temples of Tripoli. By H, S. 
 Cowper, F.S. A. With Maps, Plans, 
 and 75 Illustrations. Demy8vo. 10s. 6d.
 
 20 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 W. B. Worsfold. SOUTH AFRICA. 
 
 By W. B. Worsfold, M.A. With. 
 
 a Map, Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A monument.il work compressed into a 
 
 very moJerate compass.' — IVorld. 
 
 Katherine and Gilbert Macquoid. I N 
 PARIS. By Katherine and Gil- 
 bert Macquoid. Illustrated by 
 Thomas R. Macquoid, R.I. With 
 2 maps. Crown 8vo. is. 
 ' .\ useful little guide, judiciously supplied 
 with information.'—.!^ themruvi. 
 
 A. H. Keane. THE BOER STATES : 
 A History and Description of the 
 Transvaal and the Orange Free State. 
 By A. H. Keane, M.A. With 
 Map. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A work of clear aims and thorough execu- 
 tion.' — A cademy. 
 
 ' A compact and very trustworthy account 
 of the Boers and their surroundings.' 
 
 — Morning Post. 
 
 Naval and Military 
 
 G. S. Robertson. CHITRAL: The 
 
 Story of a Minor Siege. By Sir 
 
 G. S. Robertson, K. C.S.I. With 
 
 numerousIUustrations, Map and Plans. 
 
 Second Edition. Demy ?>vo. ios,6d. 
 
 ' It is difficult to imagine the kind of person 
 
 who could read this brilliant book without 
 
 emotion. The story remains immortal — 
 
 a testimony imperishable. We are face 
 
 to face with a great book.' — Illustrated 
 
 London Nexus. 
 
 'A book which the Elizabethans would have 
 
 thought wonderful. More thrilling, more 
 
 piquant, and more human than any 
 
 novel.' — Newcastle Chronicle. 
 
 'As fascinating as Sir Walter Scott's best 
 
 fiction.' — Daily Telegraph. 
 
 R. S. S. Baden-Powell. THE DOWN- 
 FALL OF PREMPEH. A Diary of 
 Life in Ashanti, 1895. By Maj.-Gen. 
 Baden-Powell. With 21 Illustra- 
 tions and a Map. Cheaper Edition. 
 Large Croiun 8vo. 6s. 
 
 R. S. S. Baden-Powell. THE MATA- 
 BELE CAMPAIGN, 1896. By Maj.- 
 Gen. Baden-Powell. With nearly 
 100 Illustrations. Cheaper Edition. 
 Large Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 J. B. Atkins. TPIE RELIEF OF 
 LADYSMTTH. By John Black 
 Atkins. With 16 Plans and Illus- 
 trations. Second Edition. Crown 
 8vo. 6s. 
 This book contains a full narrative by an 
 eye-witness of General BuUer's attempts,^ 
 
 and of his final success. The story is of 
 absorbing interest, and is the only com- 
 plete account which has appeared. 
 
 ' The mantle of Archibald Forbes and G. 
 W. Steevens has assuredly fallen upon 
 Mr. Atkins, who unites a singularly 
 graphic style to an equa ly rare faculty 
 of vision. In his pages -we realise the 
 meaning of a modern campaign with the 
 greatest sense of actuality. His pages 
 are written with a sustained charm of 
 diction and ease of manner that are no 
 less remarkable than the sincerity and 
 vigour of the matter which they set 
 before us.' — li^orld. 
 
 ' Mr. Atkins has a genius for the painting 
 of war which entitles him already to be 
 ranked with Forbes and Steevens, and 
 encourages us to hope that he may one 
 day rise to the level of Napier and 
 Kinglake.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 ' It is the record told with insight and 
 sympathy of a great conflict. It is as 
 readable as a novel, and it bears the 
 imprint of truth.' — JSIorning Leader. 
 
 H. W. Nevinson. LADYSMITH : The 
 Diary of a Siege. By H. W. Nevin- 
 son. With 16 Illustrations and a 
 Plan. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 This book contains a complete diary of the 
 Siege of Ladysmith, and is a most vivid 
 and picturesque narrative. 
 
 ' There is no exaggeration here, no strain- 
 ing after effect. But there is the truest 
 realism, the impression of things as they 
 are seen, set forth in well-chosen words 
 and well-balanced phrases, with a mea-
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 21 
 
 sured self-re3fraint that marks the true 
 artist. Mr. Nevinson is to be congratu- 
 lated on the excellent work that he has 
 done.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 'Of the many able and fascinating chroni- 
 clers of the sad and splendid story, Mr. 
 Nevinson is among the ablest and most 
 fascinating.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 E, H. Alderson. WITH THE 
 MOUNTED INFANTRY AND 
 THE MASHONALAND FIELD 
 FORCE, 1896. By Lieut. -Colonel 
 Alderson. With numerous Illus- 
 trations and Plans. Demy 8vo. 
 los. 6d. 
 
 Seymour Vandeleur. CAMPAIGN- 
 ING ON THE UPPER NILE 
 AND NIGER. By Lieut. Seymour 
 Vandeleur. With an Introduction 
 by Sir G. Goldie, K.C.M.G. With 
 4 Maps, Illustrations, and Plans. 
 Large Crown Stw. 10s. 6d. 
 
 Lord Fincastle. A FRONTIER 
 CAMPAIGN. By Viscount Fin- 
 castle, V.C, and Lieut. P. C. 
 Elliott-Lockhart. With a Map 
 and 16 Illustrations. Second Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 R N. Bennett. THE DOWNFALL 
 
 OF THE DERVISHES: A Sketch 
 of the Sudan Campaign of 1898. By 
 E. N. Bennett, Fellow of Hertford 
 College. With a Photogravure Por- 
 trait of Lord Kitchener. Third 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 W. Kinnaird Rose. WITH THE 
 GREEKS IN THESSALY. By 
 W. Kinnaird Rose. With Illus- 
 trations. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 G. W. Steevens. NAVAL POLICY : 
 
 By G. W. Steevens. Demy 8vo. 6s. 
 
 This book is a description of the British and 
 
 other more important navies of the world, 
 
 with a sketch of the lines on which our 
 
 naval policy might possibly be developed. 
 
 D. Hannay. A SHORT HISTORY 
 OF THE ROYAL NAVY, From 
 
 Early Times TO the Present Day. 
 
 By David Hannay. Illustrated. 
 
 2 Vols. Demy 8vo. js. 6d. each. 
 
 Vol. I., 1200-1688. 
 ' We read it from cover to cover at a sitting, 
 and those who go to it for a lively and 
 brisk picture of the past, with all its faults 
 and its grandeur, will not be disappointed. 
 The historian is endowed with literary 
 skill and style.' — Standard. 
 
 C. Cooper King-. THE STORY OF 
 
 THE BRITISH ARMY. By Colonel 
 
 Cooper King. Illustrated. Demy 
 
 8vo. ys. 6d. 
 
 'An authoritative and accurate story of 
 
 England's military progress.' — Daily 
 
 Mail. 
 
 E. Southey. ENGLISFI SEAMEN 
 (Howard, Clifford, Hawkins, Drake, 
 Cavendish). By Robert Southey. 
 Edited, with an Introduction, Vjy 
 David Hannay. Second Edition. 
 Croivn 8vo. 6s. 
 ' A brave, inspiriting book.' — Black and 
 White. 
 
 W. Clark Russell. THE LIFE OF 
 
 ADMIRAL LORD COLLING- 
 
 WOOD. By W. Clark Russell. 
 
 With Illustrations by F. Brangwyn. 
 
 Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A book which we should like to see in the 
 
 hands of every boy in the country.' — 
 
 St. Jatnes s Gazette. 
 
 E. L. S. Horsburgh. WATERLOO : A 
 
 Narrative and Criticism. By E. L. S. 
 
 Horsburgh, B. A. With Plans. 
 
 Second Edition. Crotvn 8vo. 5^. 
 
 'A brilliant essay — simple, sound, and 
 
 thorough.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 H. B. George. BATTLES OF 
 ENGLISH HISTORY. By H. B. 
 George, M.A., Fellow of New 
 College, Oxford. With numerous 
 Plans. Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 ' Mr. George has undertaken a very useful 
 task — that of making military affairs in- 
 telligible and instructive to non-military 
 readers — and has executed it with a 
 lar^c measure of success.' — Times.
 
 22 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 General Literature 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE BOOK OF 
 THE WEST. By S. Baring 
 Gould. With numerous Illustra- 
 tions. Two volumes. Vol. I. Devon. 
 Vol. II. Cornwall. Crown 8vo. 
 6s. each. 
 'They are very attractive little volumes, 
 they have numerous very pretty and 
 interesting pictures, the story is fresh 
 and bracing as the air of Dartmoor, and 
 the legend weird as twilight over Doz- 
 mare Pool, and they give us a very good 
 idea of this enc)ianting and beautiful 
 district.' — Guafdiaa. 
 ' A narrative full of picturesque incident, 
 personal interest, and literary charm.' — 
 Leeds I\Icrcury. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. OLD COUNTRY 
 
 LIFE. ByS. Baring Gould. With 
 Si.xty-seven Illustrations. Large Cr. 
 S-M. Fifth Edition. 6s. 
 
 " Old Country Life, " a s healthy wholesome 
 reading, full of breezy life and move- 
 ment, full of quaint stories vigorously 
 told, will not be e.xcelled by any book to 
 be published throughout the year. 
 Sound, hearty, and English to the core. ' 
 — World. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. AN OLD ENGLISH 
 HOME. By S. Baring Gould. 
 \yith numerous Plans and Illustra- 
 tions. Crouijt 8vo. 6s. 
 'The chapters are delightfully fresh, very 
 informing, and lightened by many a good 
 story. A delightful fireside companion.' 
 — St. Ja7Hes's Gazette. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. HISTORIC 
 ODDITIES AND STRANGE 
 EVENTS. By S. Baring Gould. 
 Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. FREAKS OF 
 FANATICISM. By S. Baring 
 Gould. Third Edition. Cr. %vo. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. A GARLAND OF 
 COUNTRY SONG: English Folk 
 Songswith their Traditional Melodies. 
 Collected and arranged by S. Baring 
 Gould and H. F. Sheppard. 
 Demy £,to. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. SONGS OF THE 
 
 WEST: Traditional Ballads and 
 Songs of the West of England, with 
 their Melodies. Collected by S. 
 Baring Gould, M.A. , and H. F. 
 Sheppard, M. A. In 4 Parts. Parts 
 /., //., ///., 3^. each. Part IV., 55. 
 In one Vol., French morocco, igf. 
 ' A rich collection of humour, pathos, grace, 
 and poetic fancy.' — Saturday Review. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. YORKSHIRE 
 ODDITIES AND STRANGE 
 EVENTS. By S. Baring Gould. 
 Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. STRANGE SUR- 
 VIVALS AND SUPERSTITIONS. 
 By S. Baring Gould. Cr. 8vo. 
 Second Edition. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE DESERTS 
 OF SOUTHERN FRANCE. By 
 S. Baring Gould. 2 vols. Demy 
 8vo. 32J. 
 
 Cotton Minchin. OLD HARROW 
 DAYS. By J. G. Cotton Minchin. 
 Cr. 8~oO, Second Edition. 55. 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. THE SPEECHES 
 OF THE RT. HON. W. E. GLAD- 
 STONE, M.P. Edited by A. W. 
 HuTTON, M.A., and H.J. Cohen, 
 M.A. With Portraits, Dctny 8vo. 
 Vols. IX. and X., 12s. 6d. each. 
 
 J. E. Marr. THE SCIENTIFIC 
 STUDY OF SCENERY. By J. E. 
 Marr, F.R.S., Fellow of St. John's 
 College, Cambridge. Illustrated. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 An elementary treatise on geomorphology 
 — the studyof the earth's outward forms. 
 It is for the use of students of physical 
 geography and geology, and will also be 
 highly interesting to the general reader. 
 
 'A fascinating book, a real fairy tale.' — 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 ' Mr. Marr is distinctly to be congratulated 
 on the general result of his work. He 
 has produced a volume, moderate in size
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 23 
 
 and readable in style, which will be 
 acceptable alike to the student of geo- 
 logy and geography, and to the tourist.' 
 — A then(Eum. 
 'Can be read with pleasure alike by the 
 expert and the gener.1l reader.' 
 
 — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 M. N. Oxford. A HANDBOOK OF 
 NURSING. By M. N. Oxford, of 
 Guy's Hospital. Crown 8vo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 This is a complete guide to the science and 
 art of nursing, containing copious in- 
 struction both general and particular. 
 
 ' The most useful work of the kind that we 
 have seen. A most valuable and prac- 
 tical manual.' — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 E. V. Zenker. ANARCHISM. By 
 E.V.Zenker. DernyZvo. js.bd. 
 ' Herr Zenker has succeeded in producing a 
 careful and critical history of the growth 
 of Anarchist theory. 
 
 A. Silva White. THE EXPANSION 
 OF EGYPT: A Political and His- 
 torical Survey. By A, Silva White. 
 With foiu- Special Maps. Demy 8vo. 
 
 1 5 J. net. 
 'This is emphatically the best account of 
 Egypt as it is under English control that 
 has been published for many years.' — 
 Spectator. 
 
 Peter Beckford. THOUGHTS ON 
 
 HUNTING. By Peter Beckford. 
 
 Edited by J. Otho Paget, and 
 
 Illustrated by G. H. Jalland. 
 
 Demy Zvo. xos. 6d. 
 
 ' Beckford's "Thoughts on Hunting" has 
 
 long been a classic with sportsmen, and 
 
 the present edition will go far to make it 
 
 a favourite with lovers of literature.' — 
 
 Speaker. 
 
 E, B. Micliell. THE ART AND 
 PRACTICE OF HAWKING. By 
 E. B. Michell. With 3 Photo- 
 gravures by G. E. Lodge, and other 
 Illustrations. Demy 8vo. los. 6d. 
 
 A complete description of the Hawks, 
 Falcons, and Eagles used in ancient and 
 modern times, with directions for their 
 training and treatment. It is not only 
 a historical account, but a complete 
 practical guide. 
 
 'A book that will help and delight the 
 e.xpert.' — Scotsman. 
 
 'Just after the hearts of all enthusiasts.' — 
 
 Daily Telegraph. 
 ' No book is more full and authorative than 
 
 this handsome treatise.' 
 
 — Morning Leader. 
 
 H. G. Hutchinson. THE GOLFING 
 PILGRIM. By Horace G. 
 Hutchinson. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 'Without this book the golfer's library will 
 be incomplete.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 J. Wells. OXFORD AND OXFORD 
 LIFE. By Members of the Uni- 
 versity. Edited by J. Wells, M.A., 
 Fellow and Tutor of Wadham College. 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 ' We congratulate Mr. Wells on the pro- 
 duction of a readable and intelligent 
 account of Oxford as it is at the present 
 time, written by persons who are pos- 
 sessed of a close acquaintance with the 
 system and life of the University.' — 
 Athenceunt. 
 
 C. G. Robertson. VOCES ACADE- 
 
 MICiE. By C. Grant Robertson, 
 
 M.A., Fellow of All Souls', O.xford. 
 
 With a Frontispiece. Pott 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 ' Decidedly clever and amusing.'— 
 
 Atltencetim. 
 
 Rosemary Cotes. DANTE'S GAR- 
 DEN. By Rosemary Cotes. With 
 a Frontispiece. Seco7id Edition. Fcp. 
 8vo. 2S. 6d. Leather, 35. 6rf. net, 
 'A charming collection of legends of the 
 flowersmentioned by Dante.' — Academy. 
 
 Clifford Harrison. READING AND 
 READERS. By Clifford Harri- 
 son. Fcp. 8vo. 25. (3d. 
 'An extremely sensible little book.' — Afan- 
 Chester Guardian. 
 
 L. Whibley. GREEK OLIGARCH- 
 lES: THEIR ORGANISATION 
 AND CHARACTER. By L. 
 Whibley, M.A., Fellow of Pem- 
 broke College, Cambridge. Crown 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 L. L. Price. ECONOMIC SCIENCE 
 AND PRACTICE. By L. L. Price, 
 M.A., Fellow of Oriel College, Ox- 
 ford. Crown Zvo. 6s.
 
 24 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 J. S. Shedlock. THE PIANOFORTE 
 SONATA : Its Origin and Develop- 
 ment. By J. S. Shedlock. Crown 
 8vo. 55. 
 ' This work should be in the possession of 
 every musician and amateur. A concise 
 and lucid history and a very valuable 
 work Tor reference.' — Athenanein. 
 
 A. Hulme Beaman. PONS ASIN- 
 ORUM; OR, A GUIDE TO 
 BRIDGE. By A. Hulme Bea- 
 man. Fcap Zvo. 25. 
 A practical guide, with many specimen 
 games, to the new game of Bridge. 
 
 E. M. Bowden. THE EXAMPLE OF 
 BUDDHA: Being Quotations from 
 
 Buddhist Literature for each Day in 
 the Year. Compiled by E. M. 
 BOWDEN. Third Edition. x6mo. 
 2s. 6d. 
 F. Ware. EDUCATIONAL RE- 
 FORM. By Fabian Ware, M.A. 
 Crown Zvo. 2s. 6d. 
 An attempt by an expert to forecast the 
 action and influence of the New Second- 
 ary Education Act, with suggestions 
 for useful developments. 
 'Mr. Ware's book may be warmly com- 
 mended to all who have at heart the 
 desire for the intellectual prosperity of 
 the British race.' — Morning Post. 
 ' Any one who really wants to know how 
 education stands to-day should read it." 
 — Literature. 
 
 Philosophy 
 
 L. T. Hobhouse. THE THEORY OF 
 KNOWLEDGE. By L. T. Hob- 
 house, Fellow of C.C.C, Oxford. 
 Demy 8vo. 21s. 
 ' The most important contribution to 
 English philosophy since the publication 
 of Mr. Bradley's "Appearance and 
 Reality." ' — Giasgow Herald. 
 W. H. Fairbrother. THE PHILO- 
 SOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. By 
 W. H. Fairbrother, M.A. Second 
 Edition, Cr. 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 'In every way an admirable book.' — 
 Glasgow Herald. 
 
 F. W, BusseU. THE SCHOOL OF 
 PLATO. By F. W. BussELL, D.D., 
 Fellow of Brasenose College, Oxford. 
 Demy 8vo. los. 6d. 
 
 F. S. Granger. THE WORSHIP 
 OF THE ROMANS. By F. S. 
 Granger, M.A., Litt.D. Crown 
 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Theol 
 
 W. R. iDge. CHRISTIAN MYSTI- 
 CISM. The Bampton Lectures for 
 1899. By W. R. Inge, M.A., Fellow 
 and Tutor of Hertford College, 
 Oxford. Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d. net. 
 A complete surve of the subject frorn St. 
 John and .St. Paul to modern times, 
 covering the Christian Platonists, Augus- 
 tine, the Devotional IMystics, the 
 Mediaeval Mystics, and the Nature 
 Mystics and Symbolists, including 
 Bohme and Wordsworth. 
 'It is fully worthy of the best traditions 
 connected with the Bampton Lecture- 
 ship.' — Record. 
 
 S. R. Driver. SERMONS ON SUB- 
 JECTS CONNECTED WITH 
 THE OLD TESTAMENT. By S. 
 R. Driver, D.D. , Canon of Christ 
 Church, Regius Professor of Hebrew 
 
 ogy 
 
 in the University of Oxford. Cr.8vo. 
 6s. 
 
 'A welcome companion to the author's 
 famous " Introduction."' — Guardian. 
 
 T. K Cheyne. FOUNDERS OF OLD 
 TESTAMENT CRITICISM. By 
 T. K. Cheyne, D.D., Oriel Pro- 
 fessor at Oxford. Large Crown 8vo. 
 •js. 6d. 
 A historical sketch of O. T. Criticism. 
 
 Walter Lock. ST. PAUL, THE 
 MASTER-BUILDER. ByWALTER 
 Lock, D.D., Warden of Keble 
 College. Crown 8vo, 35. 6d. 
 
 'The essence of the Pauline teaching is 
 condensed into little more than a hun- 
 dred pages, yet no point of importance
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 2^ 
 
 IS overlooked. We jgladly recommend 
 the lectures to all who wish to read with 
 understanding.' — Guardian. 
 
 H. RashdalL DOCTRINE AND 
 DEVELOPMENT. By Hastings 
 Rashdall, M.A., Fellow and Tutor 
 of New College, Oxford. Cr.?,vo. 6s. 
 'A very interesting attempt to restate some 
 of the principal doctrines of Christianity, 
 in which Mr. Rashdall appears to us to 
 have achieved a high measure of success. 
 He is often learned, almost always sym- 
 pathetic, and always singularly lucid.' — 
 Manchester Guardian. 
 
 H. H. Henson. APOSTOLIC CHRIS- 
 TIANITY: As Illustrated by the 
 Epistles of St. Paul to the Corinthians. 
 By H. H. Henson, M.A., Fellow of 
 All Souls', Oxford. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 H. H. Henson. DISCIPLINE AND 
 LAW. By H. Henslry Henson, 
 B.D., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford. 
 Fcap. %vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 H. H. Henson. LIGHT AND 
 LEAVEN : Historical and 
 Social Sermons. By H. H. Hen- 
 son, M.A. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Bennett and Adeney. A BIBLICAL 
 INTRODUCTION. By W. H. 
 Bennett, M. A. , and W. F. Adeney, 
 M.A. Crown 8vo. ys. 6d. 
 
 ' It makes available to the ordinary reader 
 the best scholarship of the day in the 
 field of Biblical introduction. We know 
 of no book which comes into competi- 
 tion with it.' — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 W. H. Bennett. A PRIMER OF 
 
 THE BIBLE. By W. H. Bennett. 
 
 Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 2S. 6d. 
 
 ' The work of an honest, fearless, and sound 
 
 critic, and an excellent guide in a small 
 
 compass to the books of the Bible.' — 
 
 Manchester Guardian. 
 
 C. F. G. Masterman. TENNYSON 
 AS A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. 
 By C. F. G. Masterman. Crown 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A thoughtful and penetrating appreciation, 
 full of interest and suggestion.' — World. 
 
 Wmiam Harrison. CLOVELLY 
 SERMONS. By William Harri- 
 
 son, M.A. , late Rector of Clovelly. 
 With a Preface by ' Lucas Malet.' 
 Cr. 8vo. 3J. 6d. 
 Cecilia Robinson. THE MINISTRY 
 OF Dl';.\CON ESSES. By Deacon- 
 ness Cecilia Robinson. With an 
 Introduction by the Lord Bishop of 
 Winchester. Cr. 8vo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 ' A learned and interesting book.' — Scots- 
 man. 
 
 E. B. Layard. RELIGION IN BOY- 
 HOOD. Notes on the Religious 
 Training of Boys. By E. B. 
 Layard, M.A. i8mo. is. 
 
 T. Herbert Bindley. THE OECU- 
 MENICAL DOCUMENTS OF 
 THE FAITH. Edited with Intro- 
 ductions and Notes by T. Herbert 
 Bindley, B.D., Merton College, 
 Oxford. Crozvn 8vo. 6s. 
 
 A historical account of the Creeds. 
 ' Mr. Bindley has done his work in a fashion 
 which calls for our warmest gratitude. 
 The introductions, though brief, are 
 always direct and tothepomt ; the notes 
 are learned and full, and ser\'e admirably 
 to elucidate the many difficulties of the 
 text.' — Guardian. 
 
 H. M. Barron. TEXTS FOR SER- 
 MONS ON VARIOUS OCCA- 
 SIONS AND SUBJECTS. Com- 
 piled and Arranged by H. M. Bar- 
 ron, B.A. , of Wadham College, 
 Oxford, with a Preface by Canon 
 Scott Holland. Crown 8vo. 3.V. 
 6d. 
 
 W. Yorke Fausset. THE DE 
 CATECHIZANDIS RUDIBUS 
 OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Edited, 
 with Introduction, Notes, etc., by 
 W. Yorke Fausset, M.A. Cr. 8vo. 
 2,s. 6d. 
 
 F. Weston. THE HOLY SACRI- 
 FICE. By F. Weston, M.A., 
 Curate of St. Matthew's, Westmin- 
 ster. Pott 8vo. 6d. net. 
 
 A Kempis. THE IMITATION OF 
 CHRIST. By Thomas a Kempis. 
 With an Introduction by Dean 
 Farrar. Illustrated by C. M. 
 Gere. Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 
 2S. 6d. Padded morocco, '^s. 
 ' Amongst all the innumerable English
 
 26 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 editions of the "Imitation," there can 
 have been few which were prettier than 
 this one, printed in strong and handsome 
 type, with all the glory of red initials.' — 
 Glasgow Herald. 
 
 J. Keble. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 
 By John Keble. With an Intro- 
 
 duction and Notes by W. Lock, 
 D.D., Warden of Keble College. 
 Illustrated by R. Anning Bell. 
 Second Edition. Fcap. Zvo. 3J. dd. 
 Padded morocco. 5s. 
 ' The present edition is annotated with all 
 
 the care and insight to be expected from 
 
 Mr. Lock.' — Guardian. 
 
 ©jtorD Commentaries 
 
 General Editor, Walter Lock, D.D 
 Ireland's Professor of Exegesis 
 
 THE BOOK OF JOB. Edited, with 
 Introduction and Notes, by E. C. S. 
 Gibson, D.D. , Vicar of Leeds. Demy 
 %vo. 6j, 
 
 ' The publishers are to be congratulated on 
 the start the series has made.' — Times. 
 
 ' It is in his patient, lucid, interest-sus- 
 taining explanations that Dr. Gibson is 
 at his hesX..' — Literature. 
 
 ' We can hardly imagine a more useful book 
 to place in the hands of an intelligent 
 layman, or cleric, who desires to eluci- 
 
 ., Warden of Keble College, Dean 
 in the University of Oxford. 
 
 date some of the difficulties presented in 
 the Book of Job.' — Church Times. 
 ' The work is marked by clearness, light- 
 ness of touch, strong common sense, and 
 thorough critical fairness. 
 ' Dr. Gibson's work is worthy of a high 
 degree of appreciation. To the busy 
 worker and the intelligent student the 
 commentary will be a real boon ; and it 
 will, if we are not mistaken, be much in 
 demand. The Introduction is almost a 
 model of concise, straightforward, pre- 
 fatory remarks on the subject treated.' — 
 A thencrum. 
 
 IbauDboofts of ^beologg 
 
 General Editor, A. Robertson, D.D., Principal of King's College, London. 
 
 THE XXXIX. ARTICLES OF THE 
 CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Edited 
 with an Introduction by E. C. S. 
 Gibson, D.D., Vicar of Leeds, late 
 Principal of Wells Theological Col- 
 lege. Second and Cheaper Edition 
 in One Volume. Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d. 
 
 ' We welcome with the utmost satisfaction 
 a new, cheaper, and more convenient 
 edition of Dr. Gibson's book. It was 
 greatly wanted. Dr. Gibson has given 
 theological students just what they want, 
 and we should like to think that it was 
 in the hands of every candidate for 
 orders.' — Guardian. 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE 
 HISTORY OF RELIGION. By 
 F. B. JEVONS, M.A., Litt.D., Prin- 
 cipal of Bishop Hatfield's Hall. 
 Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. 
 
 ' The merit of this book lies in the penetra- 
 tion, the singular acuteness and force of 
 the author's judgment. He is at once 
 
 critical and luminous, at once just and 
 suggestive. A comprehensive and 
 thorough book.' — Birming/tam Post. 
 
 THE DOCTRINE OF THE INCAR- 
 NATION. By R. L. Ottley, M.A., 
 late fellow of Magdalen College, 
 Oxon. , and Principal of Pusey House. 
 /n Two Volumes. Detny Zvo. 155. 
 
 ' A clear and remarkably full account of the 
 main currents of speculation. Scholarly 
 precision . . . genuine tolerance . . . 
 mtense interest in his subject— are Mr. 
 Ottley's merits.' — Guardian. 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE 
 HISTORY OF THE CREEDS. By 
 A. E. Burn, B.D., Examining Chap- 
 lain to the Bishop of Lichfield. Demy 
 8vo, 10s. 6d. 
 
 ' This book may be expected to hold its 
 place as an authority on its subject. — 
 
 Spectator.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 ^7 
 
 Z\iZ Cburcbnian'0 Xtbrarg 
 
 General Editor, J. H. BURN, B.D., Examining Chaplain to the 
 Bishop of Aberdeen. 
 
 THE BEGIiNNINGS OF ENGLISH 
 CHRISTIANITY. By W. E. Col- 
 lins, M.A. With Map. Cr. %vo. 
 
 ' An excellent example of thorough and fresh 
 historical work.' — Citardian. 
 
 SOME NEW TESTAMENT PRO- 
 BLEMS. By Arthur Wright, 
 M.A. , Fellow of Queen's College, 
 Cambridge. Crown Zvo. 6s. 
 
 THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN 
 HERE AND HEREAFTER. By 
 Canon Winterbotham, M.A., 
 B.Sc, LL.B. Cr. 8vo. 3J. 6d. 
 
 'A most able book, at once exceedingly 
 thoushtful and richly suggestive.' — Gias- 
 gow Herald. 
 
 THE WORKMANSHIP OF THE 
 PRAYER BOOK : Its Literary and 
 Liturgical Aspects. ByJ. Dowden, 
 D.D. , Lord Bishop of Edinburgh. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 'Scholarly and interesting.' — Alanchesier 
 Guardian. 
 
 EVOLUTION. By F. B. JtvoNS, 
 Litt.D., Principal of Hatfield Hall, 
 Durham. Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 ' A well-written book, full of sound thinking 
 happily expressed.' — Jf/anc/iesicr Guar- 
 dian. 
 
 ' A singularly fresh and stimulating book.' 
 — Sfeaker. 
 
 ' We have no hesitation in saying that this 
 is much the best general account of the 
 philosophical consequences of the theory 
 of Evolution that has yet appeared.' 
 
 — Guaydiatt, 
 
 Z\iz Cburcbman'6 JBible 
 
 General Editor, J. H. BURN, B.D. 
 Messrs. Methuen are issuing a series of expositions upon most of the books of 
 the Bible. The volumes will be practical and devotional, and the text of the 
 authorised version is explained in sections, which will correspond as far as 
 possible with the Church Lectionary. 
 
 THE EPISTLE OF ST. PAUL TO 
 THE GALATIANS. Explained by 
 A. W. Robinson, Vicar of All 
 Hallows, Barking. Fcap. 8vo. is. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 ' The most attractive, sensible, and instruc- 
 tive manual for people at large, which 
 we have ever seen." — Church Gazette. 
 
 ECCLESIASTES. Explained by A. 
 W. Streaxe, D.D. Fcap. 8vo. 
 IS. 6d. net. 
 
 ' Scholarly, suggestive, and particularly 
 interesting. ' — Booktnan. 
 
 THE EPISTLE OF PAUL THE 
 APOSTLE TO THE PHILIP- 
 PIANS. Explained by C. R. D. 
 Biggs, B.D. Fcap. 8vo. is. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 ' Mr. Biggs' work is very thorough, and he 
 has managed to compress a good deal of 
 information into a limited space.' 
 
 — Guardian. 
 
 Z\)C Xlbrarg of Devotion 
 
 Pott ?>vo, cloth, 2s. ; leather, 2s. 6d. net. 
 ' This series is excellent.' — The Bishop of London. 
 ' Very delightful." — The Bishop of Bath and Wells. 
 ' Well worth the attention of the Clergj-.'— The Bishop of Lichfield, 
 ' The new " Library of Devotion " is excellent.'— The Bishop of Peterborough. 
 ' Ctizxmmz'— Record. ' Delightful.'— C^«rc/« Bells. 
 
 THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AU. 
 GUSTINE. Newly Translanted, 
 with an Introduction and Notes, by 
 C. BiGG. D.D., late Student of Christ 
 Church. Second Edition. 
 
 ' The translation is an excellent piece of 
 English, and the introduction is a mas- 
 terly exposition. We augur well of a 
 series which begins so satisfactorily.' — 
 Times.
 
 28 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By John 
 
 Keble. With Introduction and 
 
 Notes by Walter Lock, D.D., 
 
 Warden of Keble College, Ireland 
 
 Professor at Oxford. 
 
 'The volume is very prettily bound and 
 
 printed, and may fairly claim to be an 
 
 advance on any previous editions.' — 
 
 Guardian. 
 
 THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. A 
 Revised Translation, with an Introduc- 
 tion, by C. Bigg, D.D., late Student 
 of Christ Church. Second Edition. 
 A practically new translation of this book, 
 which the reader has, almostfor the first 
 time, exactly in the shape in which it 
 left the hands of the author. _ 
 ' A nearer approach to the original than 
 has yet existed in ^Xi^\i\\.'— Academy. 
 
 A BOOK OF DEVOTIONS. By J. 
 W. Stanbridge, B.D., Rector of 
 Bainton, Canon of York, and some- 
 time Fellow of St. John's College, 
 Oxford. 
 
 ' It is prob.-ibly the best book of its kind. It 
 deserves high commendation.' — Church 
 Gazette. 
 
 LYRA INNOCENTIUM. By John 
 Keble. Edited, with Introduction 
 and Notes, by Walter Lock, D.D., 
 Warden of Keble College, Oxford. 
 Pott Zvo. 2S. ; leather, 2s. 6d. net. 
 
 ' This sweet and fragrant book has never 
 been published more attractively.' — 
 Academy. 
 ' The work is given in as dainty a form as 
 
 any it has yet taken.' — Scotsman. 
 'The analysis and notes are discriminating, 
 scholarly, and helpful. '—ChurchReviem. 
 A SERIOUS CALL TO A DEVOUT 
 AND HOLY LIFE. By William 
 Law. Edited, with an Introduction, 
 by C. Bigg, D.D., late Student of 
 Christ Church. 
 This is a reprint, word for word and line for 
 line, of the Editio Frinccps. 
 
 THE TEMPLE. By George Her- 
 bert. Edited, with an Introduction 
 and Notes, by E. C, S. Gibson, 
 D.D., Vicar of Leeds. 
 This edition contains Walton's Life of 
 Herbert, and the text is that of the first 
 edition. 
 'As neat and desirable an edition of the 
 work as can be found.' — Scotsman. 
 
 XcaDers ot IReliQiou 
 
 Edited by H. C. BEECIIING, M.A. With Portraits, Crown Svo. 3s. 6d. 
 A series of short biographies of the most prominent leaders of religious 
 life and thought of all ages and countries. 
 The following are ready — 
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. By R. H. 
 
 Hutton. 
 JOHN WESLEY. By J. H. Over- 
 ton, M.A. 
 BISHOP WILBERFORCE. By G. 
 
 W. Daniell, M.A. 
 CARDINAL MANNING. By A. W. 
 
 Hutton, M.A. 
 CHARLES SIMEON. By H. C. G. 
 
 Moule, D.D. 
 JOHN KEBLE. By WALTER Lock, 
 
 D.D. 
 THOMAS CHALMERS. By Mrs. 
 
 Oliphant. 
 LANCELOT ANDREWES. By R. 
 
 L. Ottley, M.A. 
 
 AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY. 
 
 By E. L. CuTTS, D.D. 
 WILLIAM LAUD. By W. H. 
 Hutton, B.D. 
 
 By F. MacCunn. 
 By R. F. HoRTON, 
 
 By F. A. Clarke, 
 
 JOHN KNOX. 
 JOHN HOWE. 
 
 D.D. 
 BISHOP KEN. 
 
 M.A. 
 GEORGE FOX. THE QUAKER. 
 
 By T. Hodgkin, D.C.L. 
 JOHN DONNE. By AUGUSTUS 
 
 Jessopp, D.D. 
 THOMAS CRANMER. By. A. J. 
 
 Mason. 
 BISHOP LATIMER. By R. M. Car- 
 
 lyle and A. J. Carlyle, M.A. 
 
 Other volumes will be announced in due course.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 29 
 
 Fiction 
 
 8IX SHILLING NOVELS 
 
 Marie Corelli's Novels 
 
 Crown 2>vo, 6s. each. 
 
 A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. 
 
 Twentieth Edition. 
 
 VENDETTA. Fifteenth Edition. 
 THELMA. Twenty-third Edition. 
 
 ARDATH: THE STORY OF A 
 DEAD SELF. Twelfth Edition. 
 
 THE SOUL OF LILITH. Ninth 
 Edition. 
 
 Tenth Edition. 
 
 OF THE 
 Thirty- 
 
 WORMWOOD, 
 
 BARABBAS : A DREAM 
 WORLD'S TRAGEDY. 
 fifth Edition. 
 ' The tender reverence of the treatment 
 and the imaginative beauty of the writ- 
 ing have reconciled us to the daring of 
 the conception, and the conviction is 
 forced on us that even so exalted a sub- 
 ject cannot be made too familiar to us, 
 
 provided it be presented in the true spirit 
 of Christian faith. The amplifications 
 of the Scripture narrative are often con- 
 ceived with high poetic insight, and this 
 "Dream of the World's Tragedy" is 
 a lofty and not inadequate paraphrase 
 of the supreme climax of the inspired 
 narrative.' — Dublin Review. 
 
 THE SORROWS OF S.-VTAN. 
 
 Forty-second Edition. 
 
 ' A very powerful piece of work. . . . The 
 conception is magnificent, and is likely 
 to win an abiding place within the 
 memory of man. . . . The author has 
 immense command of language, and a 
 limitless audacity. . . . This interesting 
 and remarkable romance will live long 
 after much of the ephemeral literature 
 of the day is forgotten. ... A literary 
 phenomenon . . . novel, and even sub- 
 lime.' — W. T. Stead in the Review 
 0/ Reviews. 
 
 Anthony Hope's Novels 
 
 Crown %vo. 6s. each. 
 
 THE GOD IN THE CAR. Ninth 
 Edition. 
 ' A very remarkable book, deserving of 
 critical analysis impossible within our 
 limit ; brilliant, but not superficial ; 
 well considered, but not elaborated ; 
 constructed with the proverbial art that 
 conceals, but yet allows itself to be 
 enjoyed by readers to whom fine literary 
 method is a keen pleasure.'— The World. 
 
 A CHANGE OF AIR. Fifth Edition. 
 'A graceful, vivacious comedy, true to 
 human nature. The characters are 
 traced with a masterly hand.' — Times. 
 
 A MAN OF MARK. Fifth Edition. 
 
 'Of all Mr. Hope's books, "A Man of 
 
 Mark " is the one which best compares 
 
 with " The Prisoner of Zenda." — 
 
 National Observer. 
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT 
 
 ANTONIO. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' It is a perfectly enchanting story of love 
 and chivalry, and pure romance. The 
 Count is the most constant, desperate, 
 and modest and tender of lovers, a peer- 
 less gentleman, an intrepid fighter, a 
 faithful friend, and a magnanimous foe.' 
 — Guardian. 
 
 PHROSO. Illustrated by H. R. 
 Millar. Fourth Edition. 
 ' The tale is thoroughly fresh, quick with 
 vitality, stirring the blood.' — St. James's 
 Gazette. 
 'From cover to cover "Phroso" not only 
 engages the attention, but carries the 
 reader in little whirls of delight from 
 adventure to adventure.' — Academy.
 
 30 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 SIMON DALE. 
 Edition. 
 
 Illustrated. Fifth 
 
 ' There is searching analysis of human 
 nature, with a most ingeniously con- 
 structed plot. Mr. Hope has drawn the 
 contrasts of his women with marvellous 
 subtlety and delicacy.' — Times. 
 
 THE KING'S MIRROR. Third 
 Edition. 
 
 ' In elegance, delicacy, and tact it ranks 
 with the best of his novels, while in the 
 wide range of its portraiture and the 
 subtilty of its analysis it surpasses all his 
 earlier ventures. ' — Spectator. 
 
 '"The King's Mirror" is a strong book, 
 charged with close analysis and exquisite 
 irony ; a book full of pathos and moral 
 fibre — in short, a book to be read.' — 
 Daily Chronicle. 
 
 Gilbert Parker's Novels 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 
 
 PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. 
 
 Fifth Edition. 
 
 * Stories happily conceived and finely ex- 
 ecuted. There is strength and genius in 
 Mr. Parker's style.' — Daily Telfgraph. 
 
 MRS. FALCHION. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' A splendid study of character.' — 
 
 A thencrum. 
 
 THE TRANSLATION OF A 
 SAVAGE. 
 'The plot is original and one difficult to 
 work out ; but Mr. Parker has done it 
 with great sl:ill and delicacy.' 
 
 — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. 
 Illustrated. Seventh Edition. 
 
 ' A rousing and dramatic tale. A book like 
 this, in which swords flash, great sur- 
 prises are undertaken, and daring deeds 
 done, in which men and women live and 
 love in the old passionate way, is a joy 
 inexpressible.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 WHEN VALMOND CAME TO 
 
 PONTIAC: The Story of a Lost 
 
 Napoleon. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' Here we find romance — real, breathing, 
 
 living romance. The character of Val- 
 
 mond is drawn unerringly.' — Pall Mall 
 
 Gazette. 
 
 AN ADVENTURER OF THE 
 NORTH : The Last Adventures of 
 ' Pretty Pierre.' Second Edition. 
 
 ' The present book is full of fine and mov- 
 ing stories of the great North, and it 
 will add to Mr. Parker's already high 
 reputation.' — Glas^o-w Herald. 
 
 THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. 
 Illustrated. Tenth Edition. 
 
 ' Mr. Parker ha.s produced a really fine 
 
 historical T\o\e:\.'—AthefUfUfn. 
 ' A great hook.'— Black and White. 
 
 THE POMP OF THE LAVILET- 
 TES. Second Edition. 3^'. 6d. 
 
 ' Living, breathing romance, unforced 
 pathos, and a deeper knowledge of 
 human nature than Mr. Parker has ever 
 displayed before. ' Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG: 
 a Romance of Two Kingdoms. 
 Illustrated. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' Nothing more vigorous or more human has 
 come from Mr. Gilbert Parker than this 
 novel. It has all the graphic power of 
 his last book, with truer feeling for the 
 romance, both of human life and wild 
 nature.' — Literature.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 31 
 
 S. Baring Gould's Novels 
 
 Crown Svo. 6s. each. 
 
 'To say that a book is by the author of "Mehalah" is to imply that it contains a 
 story cast on strong lines, containing dramatic possibilities, vivid and sympathetic descrip- 
 tions of Nature, and a wealth of ingenious imagery.' — Speaker. 
 
 'That whatever Mr. Baring Gould writes is well worth reading, is a conclusion that may 
 be very generally accepted. His views of life are fresh and vigorous, his language 
 pointed and characteristic, the incidents of which he makes use are striking and original, 
 iiis characters are life-like, and though somewhat exceptional people, are drawn and 
 coloured with artistic force. Add to this that his descriptions of scenes and scenery are 
 painted with the loving eyes and skilled hands of a master of hisart, that he is always 
 fresh and never dull, and it is no wonder that readers have gained confidence in his 
 power of amusing and satisfying them, and that year by year his popularity widens.' — 
 Court Circular. 
 
 ARMINELL. Fourth Edition. 
 
 URITH. Fifth Edition. 
 
 IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. 
 
 Seventh Edition. 
 MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGEN- 
 
 VEN. Fourth Edition. 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA. Fourth Edition. 
 THE QUEEN OF LOVE. Fifth 
 
 Edition. 
 MARGERY OF QUETHER. Third 
 
 Edition. 
 JACQUETTA. Third Edition. 
 KITTY ALONE. Fifth Edition. 
 
 NOEMI. Illustrated. Fourth Edition. 
 
 THE BROOM-SQUIRE. Illustrated. 
 Fourth Edition. 
 
 THE PENNYCOMEQUICKS. 
 Third Editio?!. 
 
 DARTMOOR IDYLLS. 
 
 GUAVAS THE TINNER. Illus- 
 trated. Second Edition. 
 
 BLADYS. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 
 DOMITIA. Illustrated. Second Edi- 
 tio?}. 
 PABO THE PRIEST. 
 
 Conan Doyle. ROUND THE RED 
 
 LAMP. By A. CoNAN Doyle. 
 
 Sixth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 'The book is far and away the best view 
 
 that has been vouchsafed us behind the 
 
 scenes of the consulting -room. '—///Ki- 
 
 trated London News. 
 
 Stanley "Weyman. UNDER THE 
 RED ROBE. By Stanley Wey- 
 man, Author of ' A Gentleman of 
 France.' With Illustrations by R. C. 
 WOODVILLE. Fifteenth Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' Every one who reads books at all must 
 read this thrilling romance, from the 
 first page of which to the last the breath- 
 less reader is haled along. An inspira- 
 tion of manliness and courage.' — Daily 
 Chronicle. 
 
 Lucas Malet. THE WAGES OF 
 SIN. By Lucas Malet. Thir- 
 teenth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 Lucas Malet. THE CARISSIMA. 
 By Lucas Malet, Author of ' The 
 
 Wages of Sin,' etc. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Third Edition. 
 
 George Gissing. THE TOWN TRA- 
 VELLER. By George Gissing, 
 Author of ' Demos,' ' In the Year of 
 Jubilee," etc. Second Edition. Cr. 
 8vo. 6s. 
 'It is a bright and witty book above all 
 things. Polly Sparkes is a splendid bit 
 of work.'— Pa// Ma.ll Gazette. 
 ' The spirit of Dickens is in it.' — Bookman. 
 
 George Gissing. THE CROWN OF 
 LIFE. By George Gissing, Author 
 of 'Demos,' 'The Town Traveller,' 
 etc. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Mr. Gissing is at his he^l.'— Academy. 
 
 'A fine nov€[.'—Otitlook. 
 
 S. R. Crockett. LOCHINVAR. By 
 
 S. R. Crockett, Author of 'The 
 
 Raiders,' etc. Illustrated. Second 
 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 'Full of gallantry and pathos, of the clash
 
 32 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 of arms, and brightened by episodes of 
 humour and love. . . .' — IVestminster 
 Gazette. 
 
 S. R. Crockett. THE STANDARD 
 BEARER. By S. R. Crockett. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 'A delightful tale.' — Speaker. 
 ' Mr. Crockett at his best.' — Literature. 
 
 Artliur Morrison. TALES OF 
 MEAN STREETS. By Arthur 
 Morrison. Fifth Edition. Cr. 
 2ivo. 6j. 
 ' Told with consummate art and extra- 
 ordinary detail. In the true humanity 
 of the book lies its justification, the 
 permanence of its interest, and its in- 
 dubitable triumph.' — Athenaum. 
 •A great book. The author's method is 
 amazingly effective, and produces a 
 thrilling sense of reality. The writer 
 lays upon us a master hand. The book 
 is simply appalling and irresistible in 
 its interest. It is humorous also ; with- 
 out humour it would not make the mark 
 it is certain to make.' — World. 
 
 Arthur Morrison. A CHILD OF 
 THE JAGG. By Arthur Morri- 
 son. Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' The book is a masterpiece.' — Patt lilall 
 Gazette. 
 
 ' Told with great vigour and powerful sim- 
 plicity.' — Aihen(rum. 
 
 Arthur Morrison. TO LONDON 
 
 TOWN. By Arthur Morrison, 
 
 Author of 'Tales of Mean Streets,' 
 
 etc. Seco?id Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 ' We have idyllic pictures, woodland scenes 
 
 full of tenderness and grace. . . . This 
 
 is the new Mr. Arthur Morrison gracious 
 
 and tender, sympathetic and human.' — 
 
 Daily Telegraph. 
 
 'The easy swing of detail proclaims the 
 
 master of his subject and the artist in 
 
 rendering.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 M. Sutherland. ONE HOUR AND 
 THE NEXT. By The Duchess 
 OF Sutherland. Third Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 'Passionate, vivid, dramatic' — Literature. 
 ' It possesses marked qualities, descriptive, 
 and imaginative,' — Morning Post, 
 
 Mrs. Clifford. A FLASH OF 
 SUMMER. By Mrs. W. K. Clif- 
 ford, Author of 'Aunt Anne,' etc. 
 Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 ' The story is a very beautiful one, exquis- 
 itely told.' — Speaker. 
 
 Emily Lawless. HURRISH. By the 
 Honble. Emily Lawless, Author of 
 ' Maelcho,' etc. Fifth Edition. Cr. 
 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Emily Lawless. MAELCHO : a Six- 
 teenth Century Romance. By the 
 Honble. Emily Lawless. Second 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' A really great hoo\^.'— Spectator. 
 ' One of the most remarkable literary 
 achievements of this generation.' — Man- 
 chester Guardian. 
 
 Emily Lawless. TRAITS AND 
 CONFIDENCES. By the Honble. 
 Emily Lawless. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Eden Phillpotts. THE HUMAN 
 BOY. By Eden Phillpotts, Author 
 of 'Children of the Mist.' With a 
 Frontispiece. Fourth Edition. Crown 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Mr. Phillpotts knows exactly what school- 
 boys do, and can lay bare their inmost 
 thoughts; likewise he shows an all-per- 
 vading sense of humour.' — Academy. 
 
 E. W. Hornung-. THE AMATEUR 
 CRACKSMAN. By E. W. Hor- 
 nung. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' An audaciously entertaining volume.' — 
 Spectator. 
 
 Jane Barlow. A CREEL OF IRISH 
 STORIES. By Jane Barlow, 
 Author of ' Irish Idylls.' Second 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 'Vivid and singularly re.al.' — Scotsman. 
 
 Jane Barlow. FROM THE EAST 
 UNTO THE WEST. By Jane 
 Barlow. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Mrs.Caffyn. ANNEMAULEVERER. 
 By Mrs. Caffyn (Iota), Author of 
 ' The Yellow Aster.' Second Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 33 
 
 Benjamin Swift. SIREN CITY. By 
 
 Benjamin Swift, Author of ' Nancy 
 
 Noon.' Croivn Svo. 6s. 
 
 '"Siren City" is certainly his best book, 
 
 and it is the work of a strong man. It 
 
 has sobriety, not only of manner, but of 
 
 spiri t. ' — A cadetny. 
 
 J. H. Findlater. THE GREEN 
 
 GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE. By 
 
 Jane H. Findlater. Fourth 
 
 Edition. Croivn Svo. 6s. 
 
 'A powerful and vivid story.' — Standard. 
 
 ' A beautiful story, sad and strange as truth 
 
 itself.' — Vanity Fair. 
 ' A very charming and pathetic tale.' — Pall 
 
 Mall Gazette. 
 ' A singularly original, clever, and beautiful 
 
 story.' — Guardian. 
 ' Reveals to us a new writer of undoubted 
 
 faculty and reserve force.' — Spectator. 
 'An exquisite idyll, delicate, affecting, and 
 beautiful.' — Black and White. 
 
 J. H. Findlater. A DAUGHTER 
 OF STRIFE. By Jane Helen 
 Findlater. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 J. H. Findlater. RACHEL. By 
 Jane H. Findlater. Second 
 Edition. Crown Svo, 6s. 
 ' A not unworthy successor to " The Green 
 Graves of Balgowrie." ' — Critic. 
 
 Mary Findlater. OVER THE 
 
 HILLS. By Mary Findlater. 
 
 Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 'A strong and wise book of deep insight and 
 
 unflinching Wath.' ^Birmingham Post. 
 
 Mary Findlater. BETTY MUS- 
 GRAVE. By MARY Findlater. 
 Second Edition. Crown Svo, 6s, 
 ' Handled with dignity and delicacy. . . . 
 A most touching story.' — Spectator. 
 
 Alfred OUivant. OWD BOB, THE 
 
 GREY DOG OF KENMUIR. By 
 
 Alfred Ollivant. Third Edition. 
 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 'Weird, thrilling, strikingly graphic.'— 
 
 Punch. 
 ' We admire this book. . . . It is one to read 
 with admiration and to praise with en- 
 thusiasm.' — Bookman. 
 ' It is a fine, open-air, blood-stirring book, 
 to be enjoyed by every man and woman 
 to whom a dog is dear.' — Literature. 
 
 B. M. Croker. PEGGY OF THE 
 BARTONS. By B. M. Croker, 
 
 Author of 'Diana Barrington.' 
 Fourth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 Mrs. Croker excels in the admirably simple, 
 easy, and direct flow of her narrative, the 
 briskness of her dialogue, and the geni- 
 ality of her portraiture.' — Spectator. 
 
 Kary L. Tendered. AN ENGLISH- 
 MAN. By Mary L. Pendered. 
 Crown Svo. 6s, 
 ' Her book is most healthy in tone, and 
 leaves a pleasant taste in the mouth.' — 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 ' A very noble book. It is filled with wisdom 
 
 and sympathy.' — Literary World. 
 'At once sound and diverting.' — Academy. 
 
 Money Roberts. THE PLUN- 
 DERERS. By Morley Roberts, 
 Author of ' The Colossus,' etc. 
 Crown Svo, 6s, 
 
 ' The author secures and maintains the 
 reader's lively interest in his clever ab- 
 surdities.'— /"a// Mall Gazette. 
 
 ' The whole atmosphere is one of high spirits 
 and high comedy.' — Globe. 
 
 ' Mr. Roberts writes of real people who do 
 things and know things.' — Black and 
 White. 
 
 Norma Lorimer. MIRRY-ANN. By 
 Norma Lorimer, Author of 'Jo- 
 siah's Wife." Crown Svo, 6s, 
 
 ' The heroine is rare and striking, but 
 thorough woman and altogether lovable, 
 and the plot is brisk and well sustained.' 
 —Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 ' It is a Manx story, and a right able story. 
 The atmosphere is excellent, the descrip- 
 tive passages fine, and the story is one 
 which will repay perusal.' — Glasgow 
 Herald. 
 
 ' A Manx novel which is at once sincere, 
 poetical, and in the best sense true.' — 
 Acadetny. 
 
 Helen SMpton. THE STRONG GOD 
 CIRCUMSTANCE. By Helen 
 Shipton. Crown Svo. 6s, 
 ' A story of high merit and many attrac- 
 tions. ' — Scotsman. 
 ' An up-to-date story — and a very beautiful 
 one — of self-sacrifice.' — Daily Tele- 
 graph. 
 ' A most effective story, viritten with both 
 insight and imagination.' — Leeds Mer- 
 cury.
 
 34 
 
 Messrs. Metiiuen's Catalogue 
 
 Violet Hunt. THE HUMAN IN- 
 TEREST. By Violet Hunt, 
 Author of 'A Hard Woman,' etc. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 'Clever observation and unfailing wit.' — 
 Acadiftty. 
 
 'The insight is keen, the irony is deli- 
 cate.' — 11 'on' J. 
 
 H. G. "WeUs. THE STOLEN BA- 
 CILLUS, and other Stories. By 
 H. G. Wells. Second Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' The impressions of a very striking imagina- 
 tion.' — Saturday Review. 
 
 H. G. ■Wells. THE PLATTNER 
 STORY AND Others. By H. G. 
 Wells. Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. 
 6s. 
 
 ' Weird and mysterious, they seem to hold 
 the reader as by a magic spell.' — Scots- 
 man. 
 
 Richard Marsh. MARVELS AND 
 MYSTERIES. By Richard 
 Marsh, Author of 'The Beetle." 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 ' While under their immediate influence the 
 reader is conscious of nothing but thrill- 
 ing excitement and curiosity.' — Glasgow 
 Herald. 
 ' Ingeniously constructed and well told.' — 
 
 Morning Leader. 
 'Admirably selected and of the very best.' 
 — Christian IVorld. 
 
 Esm^ Stuart. CHRISTALLA. By 
 
 EsMiS Stuart, Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' The story is happily conceived, and enter- 
 taining throughout.' — Scotsman. 
 'An excellent story, pathetic, and full of 
 
 humour.' — Athcnc^ujn. 
 ' We wish that v.-e came across more books 
 like this clever and charming story. — 
 Leeds Mercury. 
 
 Sara Jeannette Duncan. A VOYAGE 
 OF CONSOLATION. By Sara 
 Jeannette Duncan, Author of ' An 
 American Girl in London.' Illus- 
 trated. Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 'A most delightfully bright book.' — Daily 
 
 Telegraph. 
 ' The dialogue is full of wit. — Glohe. 
 
 Sara Jeannette Duncan. THE PATH 
 OF A STAR. By Sara Jeaknette 
 
 Duncan, Author of ' A Voyage of 
 
 Consolation.' Illustrated. Second 
 
 Edition. Crorvn 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Richness and fullness of local colouring, 
 
 brilliancy of style, smiting phrases, and 
 
 the display of very pretty humour are 
 
 graces which are here in profusion. The 
 
 interest never flags.' — PallMallGazettc. 
 
 C. F. Keary. THE JOURNALIST. 
 
 By C. F. Keary. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 ' It is rare indeed to tind such poetical sym- 
 pathy with Nature joined to close study 
 of character and singularly truthful dia- 
 logue : but then " The Journalist " is 
 altogether a rare book.' — Aihenaum. 
 
 W. E. Norris. MATTHEW AUSTIN. 
 By W. E. Norris, Author of ' Made- 
 moiselle de Mersac,' etc. Fourth 
 Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 ' An intellectually satisfactory and morally 
 bracing novel.' — Daily Telegraph. 
 
 W. E. Norris. HIS GRACE. By W. E. 
 
 Norris. Third Edition, Cr, 8vo. 
 
 6s. 
 W. E. Norris. THE DESPOTIC 
 
 LADY AND OTHERS. By W. E. 
 
 Norris. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 W.E. Norris. CLARISSA FURIOSA. 
 
 By W. E. Norris. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 ' As a story it is admirable, as a/fw d esprit 
 it is capital, as a lay sermon studded 
 with gems of wit and wisdom it is a 
 model.'— rA« World. 
 
 W. E. Norris. GILES INGILBY. By 
 W. E. Norris. illustrated. Second 
 Edition. Crow7i 8vo. 6s. 
 ' Interesting, wholesome, and charmingly 
 written.' — Glasgow Herald. 
 
 W. E. Norris. AN OCTAVE. By 
 W. E. Norris. Second Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' A very perfect exposition of the self- 
 restraint, the perfect knowledge of so- 
 ciety and its ways, the delicate sense of 
 humour, which are the main charac- 
 teristics of this very accomplished 
 3.uthor.'— Country Life. 
 
 Ernest Glanville. THE DESPATCH 
 
 RIDER. By Ernest Glanville, 
 
 Author of ' The Kloof Bride.' Crown 
 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 A highly Interesting story of the present 
 
 Boer War by an author who knows the 
 
 country well, and has had experience of 
 
 Boer campaigning.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 35 
 
 W. Clark RusseU. MY DANISH 
 SWEETHEART. By W. Clark 
 
 Russell. Illustrated. Fourth 
 Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 Robert Barr. IN THE MIDST OF 
 
 ALARMS. By Robert Barr. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. %vo. 6s. 
 
 'A book which has abundantly satisfied us 
 
 byits capital humour.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 'Mr. Barr has achieved a triumph.' — Pall 
 
 Mall Gazette. 
 
 Robert Barr. THE MUTABLE 
 
 MANY. By Robert Barr. Second 
 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 'Very much the best novel that Mr. Barr 
 
 has yet given us. There is much insight 
 
 in it, and much excellent humour.' — 
 
 Daily Chronicle. 
 
 Robert Barr. THE COUNTESS 
 
 TEKLA. By Robert Barr. Second 
 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 'Of these medicBval romances, which are 
 
 now gaining ground, "The Countess 
 
 Tekla" is the very best we have seen. 
 
 The story is written in clear English, 
 
 and a picturesque, moving style.' — Pall 
 
 Mall Gazette. 
 
 Andrew Balfour. BY STROKE OF 
 SWORD. By A. Balfour. Illus- 
 trated. Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 A banquet of good things.' — Academy. 
 ' A recital of thrilling interest, told with 
 
 unflagging vigour.' — Globe. 
 ' An unusually excellent example of a semi- 
 historic romance.' — World. 
 
 Andrew Balfour. TO ARMS! By 
 
 Andrew Balfour. Illustrated. 
 
 Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' The marvellous perils through which Allan 
 
 passes are told in powerful and lively 
 
 fashion.'— Pa// Mall Gazette. 
 
 Andrew Balfour. VENGEANCE IS 
 MINE. By Andrew Balfour, 
 Author of 'By Stroke of Sword.' 
 Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 A vigorous piece of work, well written, and 
 abounding in stirring incidents.'— C^/ai- 
 gow Herald. 
 
 J. Maclaren Cobban. THE KING 
 
 OF ANDAMAN : A Saviour of 
 
 Society. By J. Maclaren Cobban. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 'An unquestionably interesting book. It 
 
 contains one character, at least, who has 
 
 in him the root of immortality.'— Pa// 
 
 Mall Gazette. 
 
 J. Maclaren Cobban. THE ANGEL 
 OF THE COVENANT. By J. 
 Maclaren Cobban. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 R. N. Stephens. AN ENEMY TO 
 THE KING. By R. N. Stephens. 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 ' It is full of movement, and the movement 
 
 is always buoyant. ' — Scotsman. 
 ' A stirring story with plenty 0' movement.' 
 —Black and White. 
 
 R. N. Stephens. A GENTLEMAN 
 PLAYER. By R. N. Stephens, 
 Author of 'An Enemy to the King.' 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' A bright and spirited romance of adven- 
 ture, full of movement and changing 
 action.' — Scotsman. 
 
 R. Hichens. BYEWAYS. By Robert 
 HiCHENS. Author of ' Flames, etc' 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 ' The work is undeniably that of a man of 
 striking imagination.' — Daily News. 
 
 J, S. netcher. THE PATHS OF 
 THE PRUDENT. By J. S, Flet- 
 cher. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 J. B. Burton. IN THE DAY OF 
 
 ADVERSITY. By ]. Bloundelle- 
 
 Burton. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Unusually interesting and full of highly 
 
 dramatic situations.' — Guardian. 
 
 J. B. Burton. DENOUNCED. By 
 J. Bloundelle-Burton. Second 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' A fine, manly, spirited piece of work.' — 
 
 World. 
 
 J. B. Burton. THE CLASH OF 
 
 ARMS. By J. Bloundelle-Bur- 
 
 TON. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A brave story — brave in deed, brave in 
 
 word, brave in thought.' — St. James's 
 
 Gazette. 
 
 J. B. Burton. ACROSS THE SALT 
 SEAS. By J. Bloundelle-Burton. 
 Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' The very essence of the true romantic 
 spirit.' — Truth.
 
 36 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 W. C. ScuUy. THE WHITE HECA- 
 TOMB. By W. C. Scully, Author 
 of ' Kafir Stories.' Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 ' Reveals a marvellously intimate under- 
 standing of the KafEr mind.' — African 
 Critic. 
 
 W. C. ScuUy. between SUN 
 
 AND SAND. By W. C, SCULLT. 
 
 Author of 'The White Hecatomb.' 
 
 Cr. 8t/o. 6s. 
 ' The reader passes at once into the very 
 atmosphere of the African desert : the 
 inexpressible space and stillness swallow 
 him up, and there is no world for him but 
 that immeasurable waste.' — Athenautn. 
 
 OTHER SIX-SHILLING NOVELS 
 
 Crown %vo. 
 
 DANIEL WHYTE. 
 
 SON. 
 
 By A. J. Daw- 
 
 THE CAPSINA. By E. F. Benson. 
 
 DODO : A DETAIL OF THE DAY. 
 By E. F. Benson. 
 
 THE VINTAGE. By E. F. Benson. 
 Illustrated by G. P. Jacomb-Hood. 
 
 ROSE A CHARLITTE. By Mar- 
 shall Saunders. 
 
 WILLOWBRAKE. By R. Murray 
 Gilchrist. 
 
 THINGS THAT HAVE HAP- 
 PENED. By Dorothea Gerard. 
 
 SIR ROBERT'S FORTUNE. 
 Mrs. Oliphant. 
 
 MARYS. 
 
 By 
 
 By Mrs. 
 
 By Mrs. 
 
 OF 
 B. 
 
 THE TWO 
 Oliphant. 
 
 THE LADY'S WALK 
 Oliphant. 
 
 LONE PINE: A ROMANCE 
 MEXICAN LIFE. By R. 
 Townshend. 
 
 WILT THOU HAVE THIS 
 WOMAN ? By J. Maclaren 
 Cobban. 
 
 A PASSIONATE PILGRIM. By 
 Percy White. 
 
 SECRETARY TO BAYNE, M.P. 
 By W. Pett Ridge. 
 
 ADRIAN ROME. By E. Dawson 
 and A. MoORE. 
 
 THE BUILDERS. 
 Fletcher. 
 
 By J. S. 
 
 IN "98. By Mrs. 
 
 GALLIA. By Minnie Muriel 
 
 DOWIE. 
 
 THE CROOK OF THE BOUGH. 
 By M^NiE Muriel Dowie. 
 
 A BUSINESS IN GREAT WATERS. 
 By Julian Corbett. 
 
 MISS ERIN. By M. E. FRANCIS. 
 
 ANANIAS. By the Hon. Mrs. Alan 
 Brodrick. 
 
 CORRAGEEN 
 Orpen. 
 
 THE PLUNDER PIT. By J. Keigh- 
 
 LEY SNOWDEN. 
 
 CROSS TRAILS, By Victor Waite. 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO THE TITLE. 
 By Mrs. Walford. 
 
 KIRKHAM'S find. By Mary 
 Gaunt. 
 
 DEADMAN'S. By Mary Gaunt. 
 
 CAPTAIN JACOBUS: A ROMANCE 
 OF THE ROAD. By L. Cope Corn- 
 ford. 
 
 SONS OF ADVERSITY. By L. Cope 
 Cornford. 
 
 THE KING OF ALBERIA. By 
 Laura Daintrey. 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF ALOUETTE. 
 By Mary A. Owen. 
 
 CHILDREN OF THIS WORLD. 
 By Ellen F. Pinsent. 
 
 AN ELECTRIC SPARK. By G. 
 Manville Fenn.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 37 
 
 UNDER SHADOW OF THE 
 MISSION. By L. S. McChesney. 
 
 THE SPECULATORS. By J. F. 
 Brewer. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF STORM. By 
 Ronald Ross, 
 
 THE QUEENSBERRY CUP. By 
 Clive p. Wolley. 
 
 A HOME IN INVERESK, By T. 
 L. Paton. 
 
 MISS ARMSTRONG'S AND 
 OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES. By 
 John Davidson. 
 
 DR. CONGALTON'S LEGACY. By 
 Henry Johnston. 
 
 TIME AND THE WOMAN. By 
 Richard Pryce. 
 
 THIS MAN'S DOMINION. By the 
 Author of ' A High Little World.' 
 
 DIOGENES OF LONDON. By H. 
 B. Marriott Watson. 
 
 THE STONE DRAGON. By 
 Murray Gilchrist. 
 
 A VICAR'S WIFE. By Evelyn 
 Dickinson. 
 
 ELSA. By E. M 'Queen Gray. 
 
 THE SINGER OF MARLY. By I. 
 Hooper. 
 
 THE FALL OF THE SPARROW. 
 By M. C. Balfour. 
 
 A SERIOUS COMEDY. By Herbert 
 Morrah. 
 
 THE FAITHFUL 
 Herbert Morrah. 
 
 CITY. By 
 By J. A. 
 
 IN THE GREAT DEEP, 
 Barry. 
 
 BIJLI, THE DANCER. By James 
 Blythe Patton. 
 
 JOSIAH'S WIFE. By Norma 
 
 LORIMER. 
 
 THE PHILANTHROPIST. By 
 Lucy Maynard. 
 
 VAUSSORE, By Francis Brune. 
 
 THREE-AND-SIXPENNY NOVELS 
 
 Crown Hvo, 
 
 DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVEL- 
 IST. 42nd thousand. By Edna 
 Lyall. 
 A SON OF THE STATE. By W. 
 
 Pett Ridgk. 
 CEASE FIRE! By J, Maclaren 
 Cobban. Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 A stirring Story of the Boer War of 1881, 
 including the Siege of Potchefstrom and 
 the Defeat of Majuba. 
 ' Brightly told and drawn with a strong and 
 
 sure hand.' — St. James's Gazette. 
 ' A capital novel.' — Scotstnan. 
 ' Fact and fiction are so deeply woven 
 together that the book reads like a fas- 
 cinating chapter of history.' — Pall Mall 
 Gazette. 
 THE KLOOF BRIDE. By Ernest 
 
 Glanville. 
 A VENDETTA OF THE DESERT. 
 
 By W. C. Scully. 
 SUBJECT TO VANITY, By Mar- 
 caret Benson. 
 
 THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER. Fiftk 
 Edition. By Bertram Mitford. 
 
 THE MOVING FINGER. By Maky 
 Gaunt. 
 
 JACO TRELOAR. By J. H. Pearce. 
 THE DANCE OF THE HOURS. 
 By 'Vera.' 
 
 A WOMAN OF FORTY. By EsMiS 
 
 Stuart. 
 A CUMBERER OF THE GROUND. 
 
 By Constance Smith. 
 
 THE SIN OF ANGELS. By Evelyn 
 Dickinson. 
 
 AUT DIABOLUS AUT NIHIL. 
 By X. L. 
 
 THE COMING OF CUCULAIN. 
 By Standish O'Grady. 
 
 THE GODS GIVE MY DONKEY 
 WINGS, By Angus Evan Abbott.
 
 38 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 THE STAR GAZERS. By G. Mak- i 
 
 VILLE FEN'N. 
 
 THE POISON OF ASPS. By R. 
 
 Orton Prowse. 
 THE QUIET MRS. FLEMING. By 
 
 R. Prvce. 
 DISENCHANTMENT. By F.Mabel 
 
 Robinson. 
 THE SQUIRE OF WANDALES. 
 
 By A. Shield. 
 A REVEREND GENTLEMAN. By 
 
 J. M. Cobban. 
 A DEPLORABLE AFFAIR. By 
 
 W. E. NORRIS. 
 
 A CAVALIER'S LADYE. By Mrs. 
 Dicker. 
 
 THE PRODIGALS. By Mrs. 
 Oliphant. 
 
 THE SUPPLANTER. By P. Neu- 
 mann. 
 
 A MAN WITH BLACK EYE- 
 LASHES. By H. A. Kennedy. 
 
 A HANDFUL OF EXOTICS. By 
 S. Gordon. 
 
 AN ODD EXPERIMENT. By 
 Hannah Lynch. 
 
 TALES OF NORTHUMBRIA. By 
 Howard Pease. 
 
 HALF-CROWN NOVELS 
 
 Crown ^vo. 
 
 HOVENDEN, V.C. By F. Mabel 
 
 Robinson. 
 THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. By 
 
 F. Mabel Robinson. 
 MR. BUTLER'S WARD. By F. 
 
 Mabel Robinson. 
 ELI'S CHILDREN. By G. Man- 
 
 ville Fenn. 
 A DOUBLE KNOT. By G. Man- 
 
 ville Fenn. 
 DISARMED. By M. Betham 
 
 Edwards. 
 
 By 
 
 E. 
 
 IN TENT AND BUNGALOW. 
 
 the Author of ' Indian Idylls." 
 MY STEWARDSHIP. By 
 
 M 'Queen Gray. 
 JACK'S FATHER. By W. E. 
 
 Norris. 
 A LOST ILLUSION. By Leslie 
 
 Keith. 
 
 THE TRUE HISTORY OF JOSHUA 
 DAVIDSON, Christian and Com- 
 munist. By E. Lynn Lynton. 
 Eleventh Edition. Post Zvo. u. 
 
 Ube movelist 
 
 Messrs. Methuen are making an interesting experiment which constitutes a 
 fresh departure in publishing. They are issuing under the above general title 
 a Monthly Series of Novels by popular authors at the price of Sixpence. Many 
 of these Novels have never been published before. Each Number is as long as 
 the average Six Shilling Novel. The first numbers of ' The Novelist ' are as 
 follows : — 
 
 L DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES. 
 E. W. Hornung. 
 
 II. JENNIE BAXTER, JOURNA- 
 LIST. Robert Bark. 
 
 III. THE INCA'S TREASURE. 
 
 Ernest Glanville. 
 
 IV, A SON OF THE STATE. W. 
 
 Pett Ridge. 
 V. FURZE BLOOM. S. Baring 
 
 Gould. 
 VI. HUNTER'S CRUISE. C. 
 Gleig. 
 
 VII. THE GAY DECEIVERS. 
 
 Arthur Moore. 
 
 VIII. PRISONERS OF WAR. A. 
 
 Boyson Weekes. 
 
 TX. THEADVENTUREOF PRIN- 
 CESS SYLVIA. Mrs. C. F. 
 Williamson. 
 X. VELDT AND LAAGER: Tales 
 of the Transvaal. E. S. Valen- 
 tine. 
 XL THE NIGGER KNIGHTS. 
 F. Norreys Connell, 
 
 XII. A MARRIAGE AT SEA. W. 
 Clark Russell.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 39 
 
 Books for Boys and Girls 
 
 A Series of Books by well-known Authors, well illustrated. 
 THREE-AND-SIXPENCE EACH 
 
 THE ICELANDER'S SWORD. By 
 
 vS. Baring Gould. 
 TWO LITTLE CHILDREN AND 
 
 CHING. By Edith E. Cuthell. 
 TODDLEBEN'S HERO. By M. M. 
 
 Blake. 
 ONLY A GUARD -ROOM DOG. 
 
 By Edith E. Cuthell. 
 THE DOCTOR OF THE JULIET. 
 
 By Hakky Collingwood. 
 
 MASTER ROCKAFELLAR'S VOY- 
 AGE. By W. Clark Russell. 
 
 SYD BELTON: Or, The Boy who 
 
 would not go to Sea. By G. Man- 
 
 viLLE Fenn. 
 THE WALLYPUG IN LONDON. 
 
 By G. E. Farrow. 
 ADVENTURES IN WALLYPUG 
 
 LAND. By G. E. Farrow. 55. 
 
 The Peacock Library 
 
 A Series of Books for Girls by well-known Authors, handsomely bound, 
 
 and well illustrated. 
 
 THREE-AND-SIXPENCE EACH 
 
 By Mrs. 
 
 THE RED GRANGE. 
 
 MOLESWORTH. 
 
 THE SECRET OF MADAME DE 
 MONLUC. By the Author of 
 'Mdle. Mori.' 
 
 OUT OF THE FASHION. By L. 
 T. Meade. 
 
 DUMPS. By Mrs. Parr. 
 
 A GIRL OF THE PEOPLE. By 
 L. T. Meade. 
 
 HEPSY GIPSY. By L. T. Meade. 
 
 2S. 6d. 
 THE HONOURABLE MISS. By 
 
 L. T. Meade, 
 
 University Extension Series 
 
 A series of books on historical, literary, and scientific subjects, suitable for 
 
 extension students and home-reading circles. Each volume is complete in 
 
 itself, and the subjects are treated by competent writers in a broad and 
 
 philosophic spirit. 
 
 Edited byj. E. SYMES, M.A., 
 
 Principal of University College, Nottingham. 
 Crown %vo. Price (with some exceptions) 2s. 6d. 
 
 The following volumes are ready :— 
 THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF 
 ENGLAND. By H. de B. Gibbins, 
 Litt.D., M.A., late Scholar of Wad- 
 ham College, Oxon., Cobden Prize- 
 man. Sixth Edition, Revised. With 
 Maps and Plans, 3^. 
 
 A HISTORY OF ENGLISH POLITI- 
 CAL ECONOMY. By L. L. Price, 
 
 M.A., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxon. 
 Third Edition, 
 
 PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An 
 
 Inquiry into the Industrial Condi- 
 tions of the Poor. By J. A. Hobson, 
 M.A. Fourth Edition. 
 
 VICTORIAN POETS. By A. Sharp.
 
 40 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. By 
 J. E. Symes, M.A. 
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. By F. S. Granger, 
 M.A. Secon d Edition . 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF PLANT 
 LIFE : Lower Forms. By G. 
 
 MASSEE. With Illustrations. 
 
 AIR AND WATER. By V. B. Lewes, 
 M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 THE CHEMISTRY OF LIFE AND 
 HEALTH. By C. W. KiMMiNS, 
 M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 THE MECHANICS OF DAILY 
 LIFE. By V. P. Sells, M.A. Illus- 
 trated. 
 
 ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. 
 By H. DE B. GiBBiNS, Litt.D., M.A. 
 
 ENGLISH TRADE AND FINANCE 
 IN THE SEVENTEENTH CEN- 
 TURY. ByW. A. S. Hewins, B.A. 
 
 THE CHEMISTRY OF FIRE. The 
 Elementary Principles of Chemistry. 
 By M. M. Pattison Muir, M.A. 
 Illustrated. 
 
 A TEXT-BOOK OF AGRICUL- 
 TURAL BOTANY. By M. C. 
 Potter, M.A,, F.L.S. Illustrated. 
 3J. dd. 
 
 THE VAULT OF HEAVEN. A 
 Popular Introduction to Astronomy. 
 By R. A. Gregory. With numerous 
 Illustrations. 
 
 METEOROLOGY. The Elements of 
 Weather and Climate. By H. N. 
 Dickson, F.R.S.E., F.R. Met. Soc. 
 Illustrated. 
 
 A MANUAL OF ELECTRICAL 
 SCIENCE. By GEORGE J. BuRCH, 
 M. A. , F. R. S. With numerous Illus- 
 trations. 3J. 
 
 THE EARTH. An Introduction to 
 Physiography. By EvAN Small, 
 M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 INSECT LIFE. By F. W. Theo- 
 bald, M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 ENGLISH POETRY FROM BLAKE 
 TO BROWNING. By W. M. 
 Dixon, M.A. 
 
 ENGLISH LOCAL GOVERN- 
 MENT. By E. JENKS, M.A., Pro- 
 fessor of Law at University College, 
 Liverpool. 
 
 THE GREEK VIEW OF LIFE. By 
 G. L. Dickinson, Fellow of King's 
 College, Cambridge. Second Edition. 
 
 Social Questions of To-day 
 
 Edited by H. de B. GIBBINS, Litt.D., M.A. 
 
 Crown Svo, 2s. 6d. 
 
 A series of volumes upon those topics of social, economic, and industrial 
 interest that are at the present moment foremost in the public mind. 
 Each volume of the series is written by an author who is an acknowledged 
 authority upon the subject with which he deals. 
 
 The following Volumes of the Series are ready : — 
 
 TRADE UNIONISM— NEW AND 
 OLD. By G. HowELL. Second 
 Edition. 
 
 THE CO - OPERATIVE MOVE- 
 MENT TO-DAY. By G. J. HOLY- 
 OAKE. Second Edition,
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 41 
 
 MUTUAL THRIFT, By Rev, J. 
 Frome Wilkinson, M.A. 
 
 PROBLEMS OF POVERTY. By J. 
 A. HOBSON, M.A. Fourth Edition. 
 
 THE COMMERCE OF NATIONS. 
 ByC. F. Bastable, M.A., Professor 
 of Economics at Trinity College, 
 Dublin. Second Edition. 
 
 THE ALIEN INVASION. By W. 
 H. WiLKINS, B.A. 
 
 THE RURAL EXODUS. By P, 
 Anderson Graham, 
 
 LAND NATIONALIZATION, By 
 Harold Cox, B.A. 
 
 A SHORTER WORKING DAY. 
 By H. DE B. GiBBiNS, D.Litt., M.A., 
 and R. A. Hadfield, of the Hecla 
 Works, Sheffield. 
 
 BACK TO THE LAND : An Inquiry 
 into the Cure for Rural Depopulation. 
 By H. E. Moore. 
 
 TRUSTS, POOLS AND CORNERS. 
 By J. Stephen Jeans. 
 
 THE FACTORY SYSTEM, By R. 
 W. Cooke-Taylor. 
 
 THE STATE AND ITS CHIL- 
 DREN. By Gertrude TucKWELL. 
 
 WOMEN'S WORK. ByLADYDiLKE, 
 Miss BuLLEY, and Miss Whitley. 
 
 SOCIALISM AND MODERN 
 THOUGHT. By M. Kaufmann. 
 
 THE HOUSING OF THE WORK- 
 ING CLASSES. By E. BOWMAKER. 
 
 MODERN CIVILIZATION IN 
 SOME OF ITS ECONOMIC 
 ASPECTS. By W. Cunningham, 
 D.D., Fellow of Trinity College, 
 Cambridge. 
 
 THE PROBLEM OF THE UN- 
 EMPLOYED. By T. A. HoBSON, 
 B.A. 
 
 LIFE IN WEST LONDON, By 
 Arthur Sherwell, M.A. Second 
 Edition. 
 
 RAILWAY NATIONALIZATION. 
 By Clement Edwards, 
 
 WORKHOUSES AND PAUPER- 
 ISM, By Louisa Twining. 
 
 UNIVERSITY AND SOCIAL 
 SETTLEMENTS. By W. Reason. 
 M.A. 
 
 Classical Translations 
 
 Edited by H. F. FOX, M. A. , Fellow and Tutor of Erasenose College, Oxford . 
 
 ^SCHYLUS — Agamemnon, Choe- 
 phoroe, Eumenides. Translated by 
 Lewis Campbell, LL.D., late Pro- 
 fessor of Greek at St. Andrews. 5^. 
 
 CICERO— De Oratore I. Translated 
 by E. N. P. Moor, M.A. 35. 6d, 
 
 CI CERO— Select Orations ( Pro Milone, 
 Pro Murena, Philippic 11., In Catili- 
 nam). Translated by H. E. D. 
 Blakiston, M.A., Fellow and Tutor 
 of Trinity College, Oxford, y. 
 
 CICERO— De Natura Deorum. Trans- 
 lated by F. Brooks, M.A., late 
 Scholar of Balliol College, Oxford. 
 35. dd. 
 
 CICERO DE OFFICIIS. Translated 
 by G. B. Gardiner, M.A. Crown 
 8vo. 2S, 6d. 
 
 HORACE: THE ODES AND 
 EPODES, Translated by A. 
 GoDLEY, M.A., Fellow of Magdalen 
 College, Oxford. 2S. 
 
 LUCIAN — Six Dialogues (Nigrinus, 
 Icaro - Menippus, The Cock, The 
 Ship, The Parasite, The Lover of 
 Falsehood). Translated by S. T. 
 Irwin, M.A., Assistant Master at 
 Clifton ; late Scholar of Exeter 
 College, Oxford, y. 6d. 
 
 SOPHOCLES — Electra and Ajax. 
 Translated by E. D. A. Morshead, 
 M.A., Assistant Master at Win- 
 chester. 2S. 6d. 
 
 TACITUS — Agricola and Germania. 
 Translated by R. B. Townshend, 
 late Scholar of Trinity College, Cam- 
 bridge. 2s. 6d.
 
 42 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 ©jfor5 Classical tlejts. 
 
 Messrs. Methuen are about to publish in conjunction with the Clarendon 
 Press a series of classical texts edited by competent scholars from the best Mss, 
 
 AESCHYLI TRAGOEDIAE CUM 
 
 FRAGMENTIS. By A. Sidgwick. 
 
 Paper Covers, 3.f. Limp Cloth, 2,s. 6d. 
 APOLLONII RHODII ARGONAU- 
 
 TICA. By R. C. Seaton. Paper 
 
 Covers, ■zs. 6d. Limp Cloth, 3J, 
 ARISTOPHANIS COMOEDIAE. 
 
 Tom. I. By F. W. Hall and W. 
 
 M. Geldart. Paper Covers, 3^. 
 
 Limp Cloth, y. 6d. 
 XENOPHONTIS OPERA. ToM. i. 
 
 (Historia Graeca). By E. C. Mar- 
 
 CHANT. Paper Covers, zs. 6d, Limp 
 
 Cloth, 3^. 
 
 THUCYDIDIS HISTORIAE, Libri 
 I. -IV. By H. Stuart Jones, 
 Paper Covers, 35. Limp Cloth, y. 6d. 
 
 PLATONIS OPERA, Tom. i. (Tetra- 
 LOGiAE I. -II.) By J. Burnet. 
 Paper Covers, y. Limp Cloth, 6s. 
 
 LVCRETI CARI DE RERVM 
 NATVRA. By C. Bailey. Paper 
 Covers, 25. 6d. Limp Cloth, y. 
 
 CORNELII TACITI OPERA MIN- 
 ORA, By H, FUKNEAUX, Paper 
 Covers, xs. 6d. Limp Cloth, 2S. 
 
 Educational Books 
 
 CLASSICAL 
 
 THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS 
 OF ARISTOTLE. Edited with an 
 Introduction and Notes by John 
 Burnet, M.A., Professor of Greek 
 at St, Andrews, Demy 8vo. ly. 
 net. 
 
 This edition contains parallel passages from 
 the Eudemian Ethics, printed under the 
 text, and there is a full commentary, the 
 main object of which is to interpret diffi- 
 culties in the light of Aristotle's own 
 rules. 
 
 ' An edition which reflects every credit upon 
 its author's learning and critical acumen, 
 and which cannot but prove heartily wel- 
 come to all classes of Greek scholars.' 
 
 — Scoisvian. 
 
 ' It forms a valuable addition to the existing 
 literature on the subject.' 
 
 — Glasgenu Herald. 
 
 ' We must content ourselves with saj^ing, in 
 conclusion, that we have seldom, if ever, 
 seen an edition of any classical author in 
 which what is held in common with other 
 commentators is so clearly and shortly 
 put, and what is original is (with equal 
 brevity) of such value and interest.' 
 
 -Pilot. 
 
 PLAUTI BACCHIDES, Edited with 
 Introduction, Commentary, and 
 Critical Notes by J. M'COSH, M.A, 
 Fcap. /s,to. X2.S. 6d. 
 
 A GREEK ANTHOLOGY. Selected 
 by E. C, Marchant, M,A., Fellow 
 of Peterhouse, Cambridge, and Assis- 
 tant Master at St, Paul's School. 
 Crown 8vo. y. 6d. 
 
 PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANS- 
 LATION, By E, C. Marchant, 
 M.A., Fellow of Peterhouse, Cam- 
 bridge; and A. M, Cook, M,A,, late 
 Scholar of Wadham College, Oxford ; 
 Assistant Masters at St. Paul's School. 
 Crown 8vo. y. 6d. 
 
 ' We know no book of this class better fitted 
 for use in the higher forms of schools,' — 
 Guardian. 
 
 TACITI AGRICOLA, With Intro- 
 duction. Notes, Map, etc. By R, F. 
 Davis, M.A., Assistant Master at 
 Weymouth College. Crown 8vo. 2s.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 43 
 
 TACITI GERMANIA. By the same 
 Editor. Crown ivo. 2s, 
 
 HERODOTUS : EASY SELEC- 
 TIONS. With Vocabulary. ByA.C. 
 LlDDELL, M.A. Fcap. 8vo. is. 6d. 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM THE ODYS- 
 SEY. ByE. D. Stone, M. A., late 
 Assistant Master at Eton. Fcap. 8vo. 
 IS. 6d. 
 
 PLAUTUS: THE CAPTIVI. 
 Adapted for Lower Forms by J. H. 
 Freese, M.A., late Fellow of St. 
 John's, Cambridge, is. 6d. 
 
 DEMOSTHENES AGAINST 
 CONON AND CALLICLES. 
 Edited with Notes and Vocabulary, 
 by F. Darwin Swift, M.A. Fcap. 
 
 i. 0. 2S. 
 
 EXERCISES IN LATIN ACCI- 
 DENCE. By S. E. WiNBOLT, 
 
 Assistant Master in Christ's Hospital. 
 Crown 8vo. is. 6d. 
 
 An elementary book adapted for Lower 
 Forms to accompany the shorter Latin 
 primer. 
 
 NOTES ON GREEK AND LATIN 
 
 SYNTAX. ByG. BucklandGreen, 
 
 M.A., Assistant Master at Edinburgh 
 
 Academy, late Fellow of St. John's 
 
 College, Oxon. Crown 8vo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 Notes and explanations on the chief diffi- 
 culties of Greek and Latin Syntax, with 
 numerous passages for exercise. 
 
 NEW TESTAMENT GREEK. A 
 Course for Beginners. By G. Rod- 
 well, B.A. With a Preface by 
 Walter Lock, D.D., Warden of 
 Keble College. Fcap. 8vo. -^s. 6d. 
 
 THE FROGS OF ARISTOPHANES. 
 Translated by E. W. Huntingford, 
 M.A., Professor of Classics in Trinity 
 College, Toronto. Cr. 8vo. 2S. 6d. 
 
 GERMAN 
 
 A COMPANION GERMAN GRAM- 
 MAR. ByH.DEB.GiBBiNS, D.Litt., 
 M.A., Headmaster at Kidderminster 
 Grammar School. Crown 8vo, is, 6d. 
 
 GERMAN PASSAGES FOR UN- 
 SEEN TRANSLATION. By E. 
 M 'Queen Gray. Crown 8vo. 
 2s, 6d. 
 
 SCIENCE 
 
 DAIRY BACTERIOLOGY. A Short 
 Manual for the Use of Students, By 
 Dr. Ed. von Freudenreich, Trans- 
 lated by J. R. Ainsworth Davis, 
 M.A. Second Edition, Revised. 
 Crown 8vo. 25. bd. 
 
 OUTLINES OF BIOLOGY, By P, 
 Chalmers Mitchell, M,A, Illus- 
 trated. Cr. 8vo. bs. 
 A text-book designed to cover the new 
 
 Schedule issued by the Royal College 
 of Physicians and Surgeons. 
 
 A MONOGRAPH OF THE MYXO- 
 GASTRES. By George Massee, 
 With 12 Coloured Plates, Royal8vo. 
 i8s. net. 
 
 ' A work much in advance of any book in 
 the language treating of this group of 
 organisms. Indispensable to every 
 student of the Myxogastres. ' — Nature.
 
 44 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 ORNAMENTAL DESIGN FOR 
 
 WOVEN FABRICS. By C. 
 
 Stephenson, of The Technical 
 
 College, Bradford, and F. Suddards, 
 
 of The Yorkshire College, Leeds. 
 
 With 65 full-page plates. Demy ?>vo. 
 
 Second Edition, ys. 6d. 
 
 ' The book Is very ably done, displaying an 
 intimate knowledge of principles, good 
 taste, and the faculty of clear exposi- 
 tion.' — Yorkshire Post. 
 
 GENERAL ELEMENTARY 
 SCIENCE. By J. T. Dunn, D.Sc, 
 and V. A. Mundella. With many 
 Illustrations. Crown Qvo. 35. 6d. 
 
 [Methuen's Science Primers. 
 
 THE WORLD OF SCIENCE. In- 
 
 cluding Chemistry, Heat, Light, 
 Sound, Magnetism, Electricity, 
 Botany, Zoology, Physiology, As- 
 tronomy, and Geology. By R. 
 Elliott Steel, M.A., F.C.S. 147 
 Illustrations. Second Edition. Cr. 
 ^vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 ELEMENTARY LIGHT, By R. E. 
 
 Steel. With numerous Illustrations. 
 Crown 8vo. 4s. 6d. 
 
 VOLUMETRIC ANALYSIS. By J. 
 B. Russell, B.Sc, Science Master 
 at Burnley Grammar School. Cr. 
 8vo. IS. 
 
 ' A collection of useful, well-arranged notes.' 
 — School Guardian. 
 
 Edited by 
 
 HOW TO MAKE A DRESS. By J. 
 
 A. E. Wood. Illustrated. Cr. 2,vo. 
 
 Second Editio?!. is. 6d. 
 
 ' Though primarily intended for students, 
 
 Miss Wood's dainty little manual may be 
 
 consulted with advantage by any girls 
 
 who want to make their own frocks. The 
 
 directions are simple and clear, and the 
 
 diagrams very helpful.' — Literature. 
 
 CARPENTRY AND JOINERY. By 
 F. C. Webber. With many Illustra- 
 tions. Cr. Zvo. 3J. dd. 
 
 ' An admirable elementary text-book on the 
 subject.'— 5«z'W«r. 
 
 PRACTICAL MECHANICS. By 
 Sidney H. Wells. With 75 Illus- 
 trations and Diagrams. Cr.Zvo. 2s.6d. 
 
 PRACTICAL PHYSICS. By H. 
 
 Zeictboo\\s Of Zlecbuolog^ 
 
 Professors GARNETT and WERTHEIMER. 
 
 Stroud, D.Sc, M.A., Professor of 
 Physics in the Durham College of 
 Science, Newcastle-on-Tyne. Fully 
 illustrated. Crown 8vo. ^s. 6d. 
 
 MILLINERY, THEORETICAL, 
 AND PRACTICAL. By Miss 
 Hill, Registered Teacher to the 
 City and Guilds of London Institute. 
 With numerous Diagrams. Crown 
 8vo. 2S. 
 
 PRACTICAL CHEMISTRY. 
 By W. French, M.A. Part I. 
 With numerous diagrams. Crown 
 8vo, IS. 6d. 
 
 ' An excellent and eminently practical little 
 book.' — Schoolmaster. 
 
 ENGLISH 
 
 ENGLISH RECORDS. A Companion 
 to the History of England. By H. E. 
 Malden, M.A. Crown 8vo. 35. 6<f, 
 
 THE ENGLISH CITIZEN: HIS 
 RIGHTS AND DUTIES. By H. E. 
 Malden, M.A. u. dd.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 45 
 
 A DIGEST OF DEDUCTIVE 
 LOGIC. By Johnson Barker, 
 B.A. Crown 8vo. 2S. 6d. 
 
 A CLASS-BOOK OF DICTATION 
 PASSAGES. By W. Williamson, 
 M.A. Second Edition, Cr. 8vo. is. 6d. 
 
 A SHORT STORY OF 
 LITERATURE. By 
 Mellows. Crown 8vo. 
 
 ENGLISH 
 Emma S. 
 3^. 6d. 
 
 The history of English literature told In a 
 simple style for young students. It is 
 particularly rich in biographical detail, 
 and contains a considerable number of 
 illustrative extracts. 
 
 ' A lucid and well-arranged account of the 
 growth of English literature.' — PaU 
 Alall Gazette. 
 
 TEST CARDS IN EUCLID AND 
 ALGEBRA. By D. S. Calder- 
 WOOD, Headmaster of the Normal 
 School, Edinburgh. In three packets 
 of 40, with Answers. u. Or in 
 three Books, price 2d., zd., and 3^/. 
 
 THE METRIC SYSTEM. By Leon 
 Delbos. Crown 8vo. zs. 
 
 A theoretical and practical guide, for use 
 in elementary schools and by the general 
 
 reader. 
 
 METHUEN'S COMMERCIAL SERIES 
 
 Edited by H. DE B. GIBBINS, Litt.D., M.A. 
 
 BRITISH COMMERCE AND 
 COLONIES FROM ELIZABETH 
 TO VICTORIA. By H. DE B. 
 GiBBiNS, Litt.D., M.A. Third 
 Edition, zs. 
 
 COMMERCIAL EXAMINATION 
 PAPERS. By H. DE B. Gibbins, 
 Litt.D., M.A. 15. 6d. 
 
 THE ECONOMICS OF COM- 
 MERCE. By H. DE B. Gibbins, 
 Litt.D., M.A. 15. 6d. 
 
 FRENCH COMMERCIAL COR- 
 RESPONDENCE. ByS. E. Bally, 
 Master at the Manchester Grammar 
 School. Second Edition, zs. 
 
 GERMAN COMMERCIAL COR- 
 RESPONDENCE. ByS. E. Bally. 
 
 25. 6d. 
 
 A FRENCH COMMERCIAL 
 READER. By S. E. Bally. Second 
 Edition, zs. 
 
 COMMERCIAL GEOGRAPHY, with 
 special reference to the British Em- 
 pire. By L. W. Lyde, M.A. Second 
 Edition, zs. 
 
 A PRIMER OF BUSINESS. By S. 
 Jackson, M.A. Third Ed. is. 6d. 
 
 COMMERCIAL ARITHMETIC. By 
 F. G. Taylor, M.A. Third Edition. 
 IS. 6d. 
 
 PRECIS WRITING AND OFFICE 
 CORRESPONDENCE. By E. E. 
 Whitfield, M.A. zs. 
 
 A GUIDE TO PROFESSIONS AND 
 BUSINESS. By H. Jones. 15. 6d. 
 
 THE PRINCIPLES OF BOOK- 
 KEEPING BY DOUBLE ENTRY. 
 ByJ. E.B.M'Allen,M.A. Cr.8'J0. zs. 
 
 COMMERCIAL LAW. By W. 
 Douglas Edwards, zs. 
 
 WORKS BY A. M. M. ST E DM AN, M.A. 
 
 INITIA LATINA: Easy Lessons on 
 Elementary Accidence. Fourth 
 Edition. Fcap. 8vo. is. 
 
 FIRST LATIN LESSONS. Sixth 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. zs.
 
 46 
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 FIRST LATIN READER. With 
 Notes adapted to the Shorter Latin 
 Primer and Vocabulary. Fifth 
 
 Edition revised. iSmo. is. 6d. 
 
 EASY SELECTIONS FROM 
 CAESAR. Part I. The Helvetian 
 War. Second Edition. i8mo. is. 
 
 EASY SELECTIONS FROM LIVY. 
 Part I. The Kings of Rome. i8mo. 
 Second Edition, is. 6d. 
 
 EASY LATIN PASSAGES FOR 
 UNSEEN TRANSLATION. 
 Seventh Edition. Fcap. 8vo. is. 6d. 
 
 EXEMPLA LATINA. First Lessons 
 in Latin Accidence. With Vocabulary. 
 Crown 8vo. is. 
 
 EASY LATIN EXERCISES ON THE 
 SYNTAX OF THE SHORTER 
 AND REVISED LATIN PRIMER. 
 With Vocabulary. Eighth and 
 cheaper Edition, re-written. Crown 
 8vo. IS. 6d. Issued with the consent 
 of Dr. Kennedy. Key 3^. net. 
 
 THE LATIN COMPOUND SEN- 
 TENCE : Rules and Exercises. 
 Second Edition. Cr.Svo. is.6d. With 
 Vocabulary, ss. 
 
 NOTANDA QUAEDAM : Miscellan- 
 eous Latin Exercises on Common 
 Rules and Idioms. Fonrth Edition. 
 Fcap. 8vo. IS. 6d. With Vocabulary. 
 
 25. 
 
 LATIN VOCABULARIES FOR RE- 
 PETITION : Arranged according to 
 Subjects. Eighth Edition. Fcap. 
 8vo, IS. 6d. 
 
 A VOCABULARY OF LATIN 
 IDIOMS. i8mo. Second Edition, is. 
 
 STEPS TO GREEK. i8mo. is. 
 
 A SHORTER GREEK PRIMER. 
 Crown 8vo. is. 6d, 
 
 EASY GREEK PASSAGES FOR 
 UNSEEN TRANSLATION. Third 
 Edition Revised. Fcap. 8vo. is. 6d. 
 
 GREEK VOCABULARIES FOR 
 REPETITION. Arranged accord- 
 ing to Subjects. Second Edition. 
 Fcap. 8vo. IS. 6d. 
 
 GREEK TESTAMENT SELEC- 
 TIONS. For the use of Schools. 
 Third Edition. With Introduction, 
 Notes, and Vocabulary. Fcap. 8vo. 
 2S. 6d. 
 
 STEPS TO FRENCH. Fifth Edi- 
 tion. i8mo. 8d. 
 
 FIRST FRENCH LESSONS. Fourth 
 Edition Revised. Crown 8vo. is. 
 
 EASY FRENCH PASSAGES FOR 
 UNSEEN TRANSLATION. Fourth 
 Edition revised, Fcap. 8vo. is. 6d. 
 
 EASY FRENCH EXERCISES ON 
 ELEMENTARY SYNTAX. With 
 Vocabulary. Seco?id Edition. Crown 
 8vo. 2s, 6d. Key 35. net. 
 
 FRENCH VOCABULARIES FOR 
 REPETITION : Arranged according 
 to Subjects. Eighth Edition. Fcap. 
 8vo. IS. 
 
 SCHOOL EXAMINATION SERIES 
 Edited by A. M. M. STEDMAN, M.A. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 FRENCH EXAMINATION 
 PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS 
 GRAMMAR AND IDIOMS. By 
 A. M. M. Stedman, M.A. Tenth 
 Edition . 
 
 A Key, issued to Tutors and 
 Private Students only, to be had 
 on application to the Publishers. 
 Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 
 ds. net.
 
 Messrs. Methuen's Catalogue 
 
 47 
 
 LATIN EXAMINATION PAPERS 
 IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAM- 
 MAR AND IDIOMS. By A. M. M. 
 Stedman, M.A. Tenth Edition. 
 Key (Fourth Edition) issued as 
 above. 6s. net. 
 
 GREEK EXAMINATION PAPERS 
 IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAM- 
 MAR AND IDIOMS. By A. M. M. 
 Stedman, M.A, Sixth Edition. 
 Key [Second Edition) issued as 
 above, ts. net. 
 
 GERMAN EXAMINATION. 
 PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS 
 GRAMMAR AND IDIOMS. By 
 R. J. MoRiCH, Clifton College. 
 Fifth Edition. 
 
 Key {Second Edition) issued as 
 above. 55. net. 
 
 HISTORY AND GEOGRAPHY EX- 
 AMINATION PAPERS. By C. H. 
 Spence, M.A., Clifton College. 
 Second Edition. 
 
 SCIENCE EXAMINATION 
 PAPERS. By R. E. Steel, M.A., 
 F.C.S. In two vols. 
 
 Part I. Chemistry ; Part ii. Physics. 
 
 GENERAL KNOWLEDGE EX- 
 AMINATION PAPERS. By A. 
 M. M. Stedman, M.A. Third 
 Edition, 
 
 Key {Second Edition) issued as 
 above, js. net. 
 
 EXAMINATION PAPERS IN 
 ENGLISH HISTORY. By J. Tait 
 Wardlaw, B.A., King's College, 
 Cambridge. Crown Zvo. 2S. 6d.
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 i ■ 1. 
 
 )/i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 --, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S.A.
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FAa^ 
 
 AA 000 609 903 o
 
 flll'i 
 
 !iili'i# 
 
 III 
 
 V,