THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 WINE ON THE LEES
 
 WINE ON THE 
 
 LEES. By JOHN 
 
 AI's'tEUART. Author of 
 " THS MINISrSR OF STATE " 
 ''IN THS BAT OF BATTLE'' 
 
 . . . . ^c . . . . 
 
 f 
 
 r^kg ^^ LONDON 
 
 HUTCHINSON ^ CO 
 
 PATERNOSTER ROW MDCCCXCIX
 
 PRINTED BY 
 
 HA2KLL, WATSON, AND VINEY, LD., 
 
 LONDON AND AYLESBURY
 
 WINE ON THE LEES 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 TWICKHAM declared he would treat Capel 
 Court and its purlieus to a sensation they were 
 likely to remember as long as they had foundations 
 to shake ; and it was generally admitted he kept 
 his word. Sated, hardened operators owned that the 
 Twickham flotation gave them a new and very 
 delectable thrill ; and to this day the raptures of that 
 glorious time are recalled with tinglings and yearnings 
 for a return of the old delirium. For to Capel 
 Court sensation is the breath of life. Its ways are 
 the ways of the tempest and the whirlpool, and 
 nothing short of a million gives it an extra heart- 
 throb. Twickham gratified it with a seething excite- 
 ment ; wherefore it comes that in times of petty 
 speculation, when the frivolous block hats to prevent 
 yawning, the more adventurous sigh and say : " Oh 
 for one hour of Twickham ! " So the Old Guard 
 sighed for the Little Corporal. 
 
 When after many rumours, sent forth one day to 
 be contradicted the next, it was definitely announced 
 that Messrs. Twickham & Son, the famous brewers 
 of St. Edmund-upon-Stare, had decided to share the 
 profits of their liquid gold-mine with the public, the 
 high priests of Mammon promptly made arrange-
 
 2 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 ments for " rigging " the market. Lean patrons of 
 the " bucket shop," and fat dealers in " gilt-edge," 
 were alike in a state of ecstasy. A prescient and 
 enterprising press burst forth dazzlingly on the 
 chances of investors, gratuitously adding tips. The 
 passion for gambling well kindled spread like an 
 epidemic, making a million sober heads giddy. 
 Everybody with cash or credit, and multitudes with 
 no pretensions to either, swarmed and scrambled for 
 the spoil. Mayfair, forgetting its antipathy to trade, 
 blocked the city thoroughfares with its carriages. 
 Great ladies, bewitching beauties, amateur and pro- 
 fessional, who had never before been east of Chancery 
 Lane, peers and parsons, lawyers, doctors, generals, 
 admirals, gay sparks and grave Members of Parlia- 
 ment, the Church, the Law, Medicine, the Army, the 
 Navy, Fashion in all its branches, besieged the city 
 offices of Messrs. Twickham, jostling for a word in 
 the ear of the shining dispenser of riches. The 
 Twickham fever raged like a plague. The talk was 
 Twickham, Twickham, and nothing but Twickham. 
 Before the appearance of the prospectus the shares 
 were quoted at 250 per cent, premium. 
 
 It was an intoxicating tribute to commercial 
 genius. For a little, Twickham the brewer had 
 the emotions of Napoleon the Emperor at Austerlitz. 
 The great, the rich, the beautiful sued at his feet. 
 By a word, or a stroke of the pen he could make 
 crowds jubilant or wretched. His figure for solicited 
 favours was five millions sterling, with 25 per cent 
 added as fillip, and it was offered ten times over. 
 Touched by this flattering evidence of popularity 
 he was in danger of yielding to feminine wiles ; and 
 indeed, if the saints themselves have fallen when 
 beauty cajoled, what is to be expected of a mere 
 man of the world ? Yet even in that trying hour 
 Twickham saw his duty and clung to it. He was
 
 Iptoloaue 3 
 
 a man and disposed to gladden the hearts of 
 fair creatures who though not understanding the 
 game would " dearly love to try their luck." But 
 Commerce has no gallantry. The licensed victuallers 
 had first right and were claiming it. Then came the 
 heterogeneous outer rings of the trade, a company 
 hard to humour. There might possibly remain a 
 few crumbs for Mayfair, but even so much could 
 not be promised. 
 
 Particular friends alone received special allotments, 
 and these were generous ; for Twickham knew how 
 to confer a favour. To the vulture-speculator his 
 subscriptions were returned ; whereupon a cry arose 
 that " Old Bung was putting on side." Here it is 
 sufficient to remark that Old Bung and his advisers 
 understood very well what they were about. 
 
 The Twickhams had long been famous makers 
 of ale. For three generations it was their proud 
 boast that in slaking the thirsty throats of their 
 countrymen they had beaten all rivals, a Herculean 
 feat seeing what gallant topers Britons are. By 
 dint of invincible spirit and matchless resource the 
 brewery on the banks of the Stare grew till the 
 fame of it filled the land. Its ale became the staple 
 of half the taprooms from Dover to the Tw^eed ; nay 
 it disputed sovereignty with the national drink across 
 the border, while abroad it kept pace with the English 
 language and the Christian religion. In consequence 
 the Twickhams flourished as that green bay tree 
 which is the eternal emblem of well-deserved pros- 
 perity. A family tree so well cultivated naturally 
 bore good fruit. Two baronets came in succession, 
 and one fine morning the world awoke to find it had 
 produced in consummation of its efforts, a lord, 
 a visible indubitable peer of the realm. Viscount 
 Twickham instantly became the cynosure of a nation's 
 eyes.
 
 4 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " See what beer does," said the country, with its 
 nose in the foam of Twickham's best. " See what 
 beer does." And the enthusiastic shouted, " Good 
 for Old Bung. He gives us ale ; and the Queen, she 
 makes him a lord. Quite right o' she to mind the 
 beer." 
 
 It is not to be assumed that beer alone sent Sir 
 Vincent Twickham to the House of Lords. The 
 tools to him who can handle them. The great brewer 
 counted princes and premiers among his familiar 
 friends. The scale of his entertainments was regal ; 
 and in the House of Commons, which he adorned for 
 several years, he proved the most complaisant voter 
 in an assembly of zealous puppets. He rarely made 
 speeches ; they were not " in his line." He had no 
 ambition to shine as a windbag ; to tell the truth he 
 heartily despised the species. It was his pride to 
 serve — first the people, by giving them something to 
 drink ; second his friends in Parliament, by voting as 
 they wished. Political scruples he had none, and 
 chatter about principles he left to faddists. Moreover, 
 as the wire-pullers were well aware, he understood 
 the delicate art of giving. No man indeed ever gave 
 with a nicer judgment or a shrewder eye to results. 
 
 It is the privilege of statesmen to keep a jealous 
 eye on their country's honour, but it is their duty to 
 keep the other, and generally the alerter, on the con- 
 tributors to the party funds. Never mind what the 
 Twickham colours were. Enough that their owner 
 Vv'as in due time remembered for the double grace of 
 liberality and docility. Nor was any one bold enough 
 to whisper he was honoured unfairly. He was rich, 
 bountiful, pliant ; that was enough for his friends — 
 he made super-excellent ale ; that was more than 
 enough for such as might have been his enemies. 
 England, heaven be praised, knows how to honour 
 her benefactors.
 
 It was soon after his elevation that he played 
 nine-pins with the pillars of the Stock Exchange. 
 When the game was over Viscount Twickham found 
 more gold awaiting his pleasure with Messrs. Solomons, 
 the Hebrew bankers, than dazzled Monte Cristo in 
 the magic cavern. How to deal with it was a ques- 
 tion which presented difficulties. As a beginning the 
 family estates in England were enlarged — a provident 
 stroke, for it happened that land was cheap — and 
 Scotland was laid under contribution for one of her 
 choicest deer-forests, a stroke of social policy. At 
 the same time his lordship took up the duties of a 
 peer of the realm with all the ardour of his character. 
 He was not six months ennobled when his horse 
 won the Derby amid unparalled enthusiasm. If his 
 yacht was beaten at Cowes, the fault was another's. 
 He encouraged all manly amusements, patronised 
 benevolent and charitable institutions, and generously 
 gave the Church a hand when she wanted a bazaar 
 opened or a foundation stone laid ; and for the rest 
 remembered that money is made to be spent and 
 honours conferred to be enjoyed. 
 
 He had soared into the genial region of nobility, 
 but he never forgot the fair fat land of cent, per cent, 
 wherein his roots were nourished. A genuine 
 Englishman he was proud of his race, proud of its 
 energy, pluck, solidity, material progress and ac- 
 cumulated gold. Above all he gloried in its love 
 of beer. 
 
 " My countrymen," he said once, " know what 
 agrees with them best. On beer they have conquered 
 the world ; by beer they will maintain their conquests. 
 They love beer, and while it pleases Heaven to spare 
 me they shall have it. Let who will make their laws 
 so long as I am allowed to brew their ale." 
 
 It was observed that Old Bung knew a thing or 
 two. At any rate he did not neglect the firm of
 
 6 Wiinc ott tbe Xces 
 
 Twickham & Son, Limited, whose interests were 
 still inextricably entwined with his own. He con- 
 tinued to give the shareholders the benefit of his 
 ripe judgment and unique experience, a circumstance 
 on which they dwelt feelingly once a year — at the 
 great annual meeting when accounts were presented 
 and passed and thumping dividends confirmed ; when 
 also my lord made a speech felicitating all concerned, 
 and setting forth in the most agreeable manner the 
 ever-extending appreciation of the Twickham brew. 
 Excellent reason they had to speak with moist eyes 
 of his services. Under his able direction the fame of 
 the firm, as an eloquent shareholder remarked, was 
 every day rising higher and higher and spreading 
 further and further till it outran the map-makers. 
 Twickham's ale was indeed in all men's mouths. You 
 entered city taverns to find glass and tankard frothing 
 with Twickham ; you scoured the country with a 
 like result. Twickham drays blocked the streets, 
 Twickham casks overflowed railway stations and 
 filled foreign bound ships. You could as little escape 
 Twickham as fate. If you took the wings of the 
 morning and flew to the uttermost ends of the earth, 
 lo ! there was Twickham before you. It was the 
 boast of Twickham & Son, Limited, that they were 
 among the most successful pioneers of British 
 civilisation. Where the sword and the Bible were 
 to-day there the Twickhams were to-morrow with 
 all the blessings of ale. The foremost missionaries 
 in the world, they had veritably the earth for an in- 
 heritance, and the fulness thereof they converted in 
 true Christian fashion to dividends, payable half- 
 yearly at the banking-house of Messrs Solomons, of 
 Lombard Street in the City of London. Is it any 
 wonder that Viscount Twickham was one of the 
 most popular men in the empire ? 
 
 It was perfectly well understood among his friends
 
 that his lordship made no mistake about the scource 
 or foundation of his unique power. As a man of the 
 world he knew that success meant money, and money 
 success. To him every person, place, and thing had 
 a price. When it suited him he paid that price ; 
 when it didn't he allowed the bargain to pass on. 
 " Money," he declared confidentially, " is your true 
 magician. It will accomplish anything — for him 
 who can use it. Fanatics, who fancy themselves 
 philosophers, prate about the root of all evil. Give 
 those pietists a chance to nibble, and see what happens. 
 You may like it or not, but gold rules the world, 
 gold is omnipotent. Preachers pretend to deplore 
 the fact. I take the world as I find it. God has 
 not made me responsible for the tastes of my fellow 
 men. I'm a practical man ; my business is with 
 facts ; and I tell you I wouldn't give a crack of my 
 thumb for all the theories ever evolved by idle or 
 foolish brains. If you doubt the truth of what I 
 say, cast your virtues into one scale and let me load 
 the other with gold." 
 
 He spoke from experience. Once, indeed, his 
 magician failed him. One day, nay, rather one black 
 night, there fell upon him and his an enemy never 
 yet foiled or overcome by power of gold. It was 
 a bitter fight and the scars of it he carried to his 
 dying day. But of that the reader shall hear at the 
 proper time.
 
 Boon I
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 TWICKHAM TOWERS, lifting a majestic front 
 in the midst of costly exotics, looks down over 
 a grassy slope upon a beech wood, which affords 
 enchanted peeps of the clustered chimney-pots and 
 rust-red roofs of the ancient town of St. Edmund- 
 upon-Stare and of its gleaming homely river. No- 
 where could a lover of sylvan landscape delight his 
 soul with softer, more exquisitely alluring glimpses 
 and vistas ; nowhere would the critical foreigner 
 versed in " the holy writ of beauty " be likelier to 
 glow in admiration of the unmatched loveliness of 
 English woods and meadows, the quaint warm 
 cosiness of English towns, and the luxurious repose 
 of English mansions. For over and about St. 
 Edmund are blended the charms which make rural 
 England a new and better Eden ; a place of streams 
 and gardens and orchards and blossomy bowers, of 
 pastures rich with browsing cattle, and woodlands 
 alive with game. A poet looking forth from the 
 altitude of Twickham Towers on a golden summer 
 afternoon, his senses steeped in manifold incense of 
 flower and foliage, might dream of eternal lotus- 
 eating ; but the peptic native is apt to find his mind 
 running on mellow drinks and savoury fleshpots. 
 And indeed the St. Edmund country suggests above 
 all else the solid joys of good living. 
 
 For centuries the town had dozed beside its 
 murmurous river, paying little heed to the vanities
 
 12 Mine on tbe %ccs 
 
 of the noisy outer world, drinking its home-brewed, 
 eating its juicy roast, dancing about the Maypole, 
 growing its corn, fattening its beeves, courting and 
 taking provident care that the population did not 
 run down. Slaves of ambition toiled and bled, 
 dynasties were demolished, empires rose and fell, 
 Cromwell decapitated a king that he might play for 
 a while with the sceptre ; Blake and Nelson made 
 the sea England's chief highway ; Clive gained 
 India ; Cornwallis lost America ; Wellington trounced 
 Napoleon ; and all the while St. Edmund-upon-Stare 
 drowsed beside its sleepy river. 
 
 It might have drowsed till doomsday ; it might 
 have crumbled and died of inanition, but for the 
 advent of one Ebenezer Twickham, with a seething 
 brain and an outfit of mash tuns and fermenting 
 vats. To his energy and foresight the world owes 
 the Twickham Brewery, which practical intellects 
 have long reckoned one of the memorable achieve- 
 ments of the age. St. Edmund-upon-Stare has 
 fittingly honoured him with a statue, in which the 
 great man appears with uplifted arm, as if solemnly 
 admonishing all whom it might concern to mind 
 what they were about. He took excellent care what 
 he was about himself, as his neighbours knew and 
 his heirs found to their lasting happiness. Nearly 
 half a century after he quitted the scene of his 
 triumphs some one, sacrilegiously emboldened by 
 liquor, knocked the forefinger from the raised hand 
 with an oath that they were having too much 
 Twickham ; and the folly jeopardised his life. The 
 finger was reverently restored by an artist from the 
 metropolis, and to-day the circumstances of the loss 
 and restoration, as well as the fate of the culprit, 
 may be read in the town records. Since then no 
 one, even in liquor, has ventured an assault upon 
 Twickham.
 
 Mine on tbe Xecs 13 
 
 This Ebenezer, the founder of the family, was the 
 grandfather of our viscount. Gossip, which is ever 
 spiced with malice, affirmed he left the paternal roof 
 in the capacity of tailor's apprentice. Why that 
 should be a cause of sneering let the charitable 
 imagine. Were a king your grandfather some people 
 would jeer, and when kings are turned to scorn what 
 are you to expect for tailors? But of vastly more 
 importance than the jeers of the rabble is the fact 
 that the tailor's apprentice, turned brewer, speedily 
 became the first man in St. Edmund-upon-Stare. 
 Napoleons do not always lead troops to battle. The 
 House of Hanover reigns, but so far as St. Edmund 
 is concerned the House of Twickham rules. The 
 power has descended as power should, from father to 
 son, so that when Sir Vincent Twickham succeeded 
 to the family vats it was to find himself invested with 
 the magic qualities of an idol. Noblesse oblige. 
 Viscount Twickham was not the man to forget the 
 town which sheltered like a confiding chicken under 
 the Twickham wing. As county magnate he directed 
 its affairs ; as county magistrate he guarded its 
 morals. Here and there a cynic smiled privily in his 
 sleeve, or referred sarcastically to reformed tastes and 
 habits, as though it were forbidden to drop the ginger 
 that becomes hot in the mouth. That trick of 
 recalling the past is one of the most disconcerting 
 devices of Satan. But, if the naked truth must be 
 told, there was a time when Viscount Twickham did 
 not fete Sunday Schools nor applaud homilies from 
 the magisterial bench. Once, at a fashionable public 
 school, it was nearly being a case of expulsion. 
 Nothing but his father's position and his own admir- 
 able nerve saved him. At the University the story 
 of his deeds inspired a succeeding generation, though 
 you will search the calendar in vain for a list of his 
 honours. When in the fulness of time another
 
 14 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 Twickham was ready for the University, the youth 
 was sent, not to the seat of learning at which his 
 father had shone, but to the sister University, lest 
 he should give ear to idle tales. 
 
 " There's no use putting nonsense in a boy's head," 
 Sir Vincent explained to his friend and old college 
 chum, the Earl of Wegron, "that will come soon 
 enough, God knows." 
 
 " Where ignorance is bliss," snickered the earl. 
 
 Sir Vincent shrugged his shoulders comically. 
 
 " The moralists will spare me," he said. 
 
 " As you will," responded the earl genially. " Let 
 poets and proverb-makers slide, only I must remark 
 they are often amazingly shrewd fellows. And some 
 of them were masters in the art of conviviality, which 
 I fear we are losing." 
 
 " Well, well," rejoined Sir Vincent, " let's be content 
 with such flings as we've had. You and I have not 
 missed our share of cakes and ale." 
 
 " Philosophic as usual," remarked the earl. " My 
 sole regret is that you are obliged to use the past tense. 
 Yes, we've had our bite and sup, and the flavour 
 lingers on the palate. For which and divers other 
 reasons, as the lawyers say, I commend the wisdom 
 of giving Vin a perfectly fresh field. The boy should 
 not be handicapped by the paternal virtues."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 IT chanced one day while Lord Twickham sat 
 sternly in his place as Chairman of the local 
 Bench that a man, a stranger to the town, appeared 
 in the dock to answer a charge of drunken and 
 riotous conduct. The culprit was still young, under 
 thirty probably, though it would have been futile 
 to search his inflamed and defeatured face for a 
 single line of youth. For the present the lines of 
 youth were obliterated. The countenance he turned 
 upon the magistrates expressed in equal degrees a 
 hardened contempt for respectability and a love of 
 unlawful diversion. Yet a physiognomist would have 
 hesitated to condemn him off hand. The red eye 
 which gleamed from beneath a grotesque roll of 
 bandages suggested sociality and good humour. 
 And indeed his instincts were wholly sociable. On 
 arriving in St. Edmund he began genially by drinking 
 healths, but, getting over-heated, ended illogically by 
 breaking heads. It was always his luck he declared 
 on regaining his wits to make " a bloomin' hass " of 
 himself In the present instance he added incapacity 
 to crime, by allowing his own head to suffer in the 
 viih^e. Glancing at it as seen above the dock rail, 
 you might have mistaken it for a caricature clumsily 
 executed out of dirty linen. It was only when the 
 right eye winked slily and coolly below the grimy 
 bandages that the onlooker appreciated the situation. 
 
 15
 
 i6 mine on tbe Xees 
 
 The left eye couldn't wink ; it was closed, apparently 
 for an indefinite period. 
 
 The available optic gazed curiously at the Bench, 
 as if magistrates were freaks of nature, exhibited for 
 the public entertainment. It was especially bent on 
 the central figure, Viscount Twickham. Even while 
 the clerk read the charge and the constable gave 
 damning evidence, the prisoner studiously and stead- 
 fastly regarded the chairman- — naturally as the 
 greatest of the freaks. When he was stripped of 
 character and the Bench was ready with its sentence 
 the prisoner was formally asked if he had anything to 
 say for himself ; for the law indulges in the pleasantry 
 of first making up its mind and then pretending to 
 listen to the victim. 
 
 Smiling as urbanely as was possible with his 
 condition of face, he gave his waist-belt a hitch and 
 cleared a raucous alcoholic throat. Then, having 
 thanked his judges for their courtesy, he proceeded 
 to explain that he was down from London, in 
 search of health ; no — he begged their pardon — 
 he meant in search of work, and quite contrary 
 to intentions, which were excellent, had got " barmy " 
 at the "Jolly Friar." He assured their worships 
 he " didn't want to do no 'arm to no one." Yet 
 he had been ignominiously "chucked." He put it 
 to their worships as gentleman, Was that fair on a 
 bloke ? The chairman remarked their worships 
 would answer the question presently. Meantime, 
 had he any more valid reason to give for trampling 
 on the laws of his country ? Giving his waist-belt 
 another hitch he replied he " didn't know as he had," 
 since he rather fancied they had heard the whole 
 story from the " copper." He wouldn't say a word 
 against the copper who was " only a-doin' of his 
 dooty," though it was " cruel 'ard on poor coves 
 a-lookin' for work," and trying to be pleasant. For
 
 Mine on tbe Xecs 17 
 
 the rest if their worships would only show a fellow 
 feeling this time, " S'elp him Gawd " he'd never 
 trouble them again. 
 
 " You've given all the trouble you could this time," 
 retorted the Bench. " You resisted arrest, and refused 
 both name and address." 
 
 " S'elp him Bob," he was distressed to hear that. 
 He " hadn't no recollection, being a bit breezy atop." 
 However, his name, he hastened to add, was Richard 
 Goodman. " Dick Goody, they calls me, your 
 worships," he volunteered. 
 
 " Who call you ? " demanded the Bench. 
 
 " The blokes 'bout Shorcditch," he answered. 
 
 " And your address ? " enquired the Bench. 
 
 That was harder to settle. To-day it was St. 
 Edmund-upon-Stare ; to-morrow it might be " Gawd 
 alone knew wot." 
 
 The Bench had an idea what it was likely to be. 
 Well ! they knew best. Mr. Goodman was not 
 going to "argify." "Them as gets barmy must 
 expect to face the beak," he admitted. 
 
 Touched by the reasonableness of the sentiment 
 the Chairman asked if this were the first offence. 
 The man in the dock paused a moment, as if stunned 
 by the shocking innocence of the question ; then he 
 leaned forward, smiling confidentially. He wouldn't 
 deceive their worships ; they had asked him a straight 
 question ; he would give them a straight answer. 
 " No, it wasn't the first offence." 
 
 " How does the number run then ? " cooed the 
 Bench, leaning forward in turn. Goodman was 
 captivated. Had it been worth while he could have 
 lied as deftly as any diplomat and stuck to the 
 falsehood like a man. But simpletons had put him 
 on his honour, and he publicly announced he would 
 be shot before deceiving them. They listened to 
 the declaration with contracted eyelids, nodding their
 
 i8 limine on tbe %ccs 
 
 heads in appreciation ! " First offence ! — he reckoned 
 it was somewhere about the twentieth." 
 
 A dead silence fell on the Bench at this awful 
 admission. Mr. Goodman shifted from the right foot 
 to the left, put his elbows on the dock-rail and waited, 
 with a bland accommodating expression, which 
 seemed to say there was no need to hurr>% Presently 
 the chairman's strong voice filled the room. 
 
 " I commend your honesty," he said, looking hard 
 at the prisoner. " But yours is a case in which a 
 seeming virtue points to deplorable vice." 
 
 Be it so. Mr. Goodman would not presume to 
 contradict. His worship knew best. Besides his 
 worship understood more clearly than most people 
 the temptation of the drop o' drink. Lord Twickham 
 drew himself up, flashing rebuke. Why, what possible 
 temptation was drink to a properly conducted 
 person ? Mr. Goodman disavowed all knowledge of 
 that " kind o' pusson," but reiterated the opinion that 
 his worship must know what a sore temptation the 
 drop o' drink is to a poor cove down on his luck. 
 His worship knew nothing of the sort ; but what had 
 the prisoner been drinking ? Whiskey ? 
 
 " No, 'tweren't whiskey." 
 
 "Gin then?" 
 
 " No, 'tweren't gin. 'Twere just Twickham's ale." 
 
 It was said his lordship winced visibly ; but he 
 wasn't the man to be embarrassed. 
 
 " Nonsense," he said severely. " Nonsense. Men 
 don't get tipsy on beer." 
 
 The man in the dock feeling sure of his ground 
 hitched up for an argument. 
 
 " Bcggin' pardon," he ventured, " but " 
 
 " Nonsense," repeated his lordship, with increased 
 severity. " Nonsense ! " 
 
 The prisoner delicately suggested a bet. 
 
 " If I was to get a tanner for every man as I've
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 19 
 
 seed fuddled an' fightin' on beer," he said, " I 
 shouldn't do no more work." 
 
 " You don't appear to do any work as it is,"-retorted 
 his lordship, ending the colloquy. " Five shillings, or 
 seven days." 
 
 " Going to pay ? " enquired the clerk. 
 
 Instead of answering Mr. Goodman turned to the 
 back of the Court and, raising his hand, beckoned a 
 woman who sat in the remotest corner, hiding a child 
 in the folds of a ragged shawl. 
 , " Got the oof, Jen ? " he called. " Got five bob ? " 
 • Jen rose and shuffled forward, wrapping the shawl 
 about the child. At sight of Goodman the child held 
 out a pair of scraggy arms ; then looking round the 
 room began to whimper. Tears were also in the 
 mother's eyes, and the man frowned savagely. 
 
 " There now," he said gruffly, " don't you be 
 a turnin' on them water-works ; their worships mightn't 
 like it." 
 
 " Silence, sir," cried the chairman suddenly. 
 " Another word and you go to jail without option." 
 
 There was a singular thrill in his voice. His 
 brother m.agistrates glancing up noted an expression 
 of mingled surprise and anger in his face. His eyes 
 were fast on the woman, though -it was observed she 
 did not once look up at him. But she was trembling 
 violently. The shawl that held the child fluttered 
 and her hand shook uncontrollably as she unrolled 
 first a piece of cloth and then a piece of paper and 
 handed out five shillings. His lordship bending 
 forward saw that nothing remained. Jen had, in fact, 
 paid down her last farthing. By prodigious sacrifice 
 she had saved the little sum, hiding it from her 
 husband, and now it was all gone — to pay for a 
 drunken spree. Unable to control herself she turned 
 away sobbing.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 AT Twickham Towers that day Mr. Goodman's 
 illicit gaieties furnished a distinguished luncheon- 
 party with an occasion for some exhilarating wit and 
 many appropriate reflections on the depravity of the 
 poor. A few of the guests had seen and heard Dick 
 in court ; one pronounced him a typical true-blue 
 ruffian, a second thought him amusing, while a third, 
 to wit young Lord Tapley, heir apparent to the Earl- 
 dom of Wegron, expressly admired his nerve. The 
 company thus agreeably diversified in opinion in- 
 cluded Lord Tapley's father, the renowned Earl of 
 Wegron himself, his daughter Lady Gwendoline 
 Tibbits, ordained as the reader will find, for a splendid 
 destiny, the Right Rev. Josiah Tinkle, D.D., Lord 
 Bishop of Blockley, a divine famous for his social 
 graces and the piety of his published works, Mr. 
 Duncan MacTor, the Scottish whiskey king, for the 
 present a missionary to the Sassenach in the interests 
 of Usqubeagh, and the Rev. Dichory Bird, rector of 
 the parish. The Hon. Vincent Twickham, prospective 
 viscount, and his younger brother Reginald, then 
 home from Harrow for the holidays, were also there. 
 Having nothing to do but enjoy itself, the company 
 talked with the easy good-humour which promotes 
 digestion, lightly settling questions which have vexed 
 the race ever since the days of Job. Lord Twickham 
 alone seemed to feel there are things in heaven and 
 earth not dreamed of in luncheon-table philosophy,
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 21 
 
 and this feeling presently intruded itself in con- 
 versation. 
 
 " It must be a very curious thing," he observed in 
 the tone of one musing aloud, " it must be a very 
 curious thing to part with one's last ha'penny, abso- 
 lutely one's last." 
 
 All eyes were turned on him in quick surprise. Why, 
 what an extraordinary idea for a multi-millionaire ! 
 
 " It must be a very curious thing," repeated Lord 
 Twickham deliberately ; " I never thought of it 
 before." 
 
 " Visions of the poor-house," said MacTor jocularly ; 
 " alarming ! " 
 
 The Earl of Wegron grinned as he looked at his 
 old friend. 
 
 " Getting sentimental ? " he said. " You'll have to 
 be careful or you'll be concerned about your soul next." 
 He nodded at the Bishop of Blockley as if to say : 
 " Look out shepherd, you'll have a sick sheep on your 
 hands presently." The bishop coughed discreetly 
 over a chicken-salad, thereby intimating the Twickham 
 soul was in no danger. 
 
 " I suppose it's that wretched woman in Court to- 
 day who put the idea in your head," concluded the 
 Earl of Wegron. 
 
 For himself he would not have thought twice of 
 the incident of a wretched wife paying out her last 
 farthing for a profligate husband. With ten genera- 
 tions of noble blood in his veins he had never given 
 way to sentiment, not even in his love affairs, which 
 were conducted on strictly business principles. 
 Though chronically impecunious, he despised and 
 ground the poor, held vulgar poverty and vice to be 
 one and the same thing, and hated democracy with 
 the quenchless hatred of a lean-pursed, long-pedigreed 
 peer, who hotly and persistently resents any conces- 
 sion to plebeianism. Firmly convinced that the
 
 22 Mine on tfte Xees 
 
 world was made for the nobility, he could not 
 forgive Providence for permitting common folk to 
 prosper. 
 
 For the rest, he conducted himself as an impover- 
 ished peer should — gambled judiciously, raised the 
 wind as often and as high as was possible with his 
 resources, did his utmost to procure pleasure at the 
 expense of friends and heirs, and as a hereditary 
 legislator voted against every measure intended for 
 the benefit of the people. 
 
 " The people be hanged," was his reply to the ex- 
 postulations of a party Whip once. " Are we to be 
 for ever enriching the people at the cost of their 
 betters ? Here am I with falling rents and establish- 
 ments to maintain. Do you bring in a bill for my 
 
 relief? Let the people go to ." And the Whip 
 
 went off to report to the Prime Minister, who was 
 also a peer and rather envied Wegron his freedom of 
 speech. 
 
 When Dick came up for discussion his lordship 
 made no pretence of sympathising either with the 
 man or his tearful wife. So far as he could make out 
 they deserved what they got ; and the Right Rev. 
 the Lord Bishop of Blockley, knowing that an earl's 
 opinions are not to be treated lightly, made haste to 
 confirm them. Dr. Tinkle was bound to say it 
 became Christians to feel for those to whom an 
 Inscrutable Wisdom had denied wealth or station. 
 At the same time he was sorry to say the poor had 
 themselves too often to blame for their hardships. 
 They squandered their time, their money, their 
 opportunities ; they were incontinent, spendthrift, 
 drunken, and, he had to confess, frequently dishonest. 
 It was the old, old story. 
 
 " By the bane their own bad lives instil, they suffer 
 all the miseries of their states." 
 
 •' I was touched to-day," responded Lord Twickham
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 23 
 
 ' because I know the woman. You remember Jenks ? " 
 he asked, looking at his wife. 
 
 "Jenks?" repeated her ladyship; "not the pretty 
 Jenny Jenks ? " 
 
 " The pretty Jenny Jenks," said his lordship. " An 
 old servant," he explained to the company, " and a 
 good one, I believe — the daughter of respectable 
 people in the town here. But it was London, 
 London ; she had that paradise of the ignorant on 
 the brain. So to London she went. Now she turns 
 up suddenly, haggard, ragged and wretched, to empty 
 a poor purse for that fellow — presumably her husband. 
 Why such a girl should marry such a man I don't 
 pretend to understand." 
 
 " Ah ! " put in the Rev. Dichory Bird with an 
 unctuous smile, " your lordship can have no idea how 
 eager some girls are to be married. I mean girls in 
 her position," he added quickly, lest he might offend 
 an earl's daughter and the fianch of the Hon. 
 Vincent Twickham. 
 
 " After to-day I can form some idea how eager 
 many of them must be to get unmarried," returned 
 his lordship. 
 
 " Ay indeed, you might think that," remarked the 
 MacTor, with a chuckle, " if it wasn't that human 
 nature's so queer. You can never account for a 
 woman's taste. It's just as wonderful, my lord," 
 glancing at the bishop, " as the mysteries of Provi- 
 dence, and a great deal more erratic. Now there's 
 Glasgow and Edinburgh ; you go into the Salt 
 Market and the Cowgate and you find a man knock- 
 ing his wife down just as fast as she can rise. You 
 interfere in her behalf and, by George ! before you 
 know where you are they're both knocking >'ou down. 
 In East London it's just the same, I think it must 
 be true that a woman has a sneaking fondness for a 
 scamp."
 
 24 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " They're only half civilised," said the Bishop of 
 Blockley. " It's the pagan idea " 
 
 An exclamation from Lady Gwendoline brought 
 him to a sudden pause. 
 
 " I meant in the slums," he explained bowing with 
 the gallantry of a Don Quixote ; " with the lower 
 orders the pagan idea that the man owns the woman 
 body and soul still prevails." 
 
 " And the woman acquiesces, nay rejoices," put 
 in MacTor. 
 
 The Earl of Wegron shook his head. 
 
 " Don't be too sure," he said. " One of the gamest 
 fights I ever saw was a little chit in petticoats in the 
 Drury Lane region, trying to close her lord's ' peepers ' 
 as she called them. I put two to one on her and 
 I'd have won too if the police hadn't stopped her. 
 In justice to my friend MacTor's views, however, I 
 must express my belief that had I attempted to get 
 between the pair they'd both have turned on me. 
 Indeed, I rather fancy they turned on the police." 
 
 " It's very sad," said Lady Twickham, with a sigh ; 
 " very sad." 
 
 Her ladyship, a valetudinarian and a permanent 
 blessing to the medical profession, was greatly 
 oppressed by the general wickedness of the world. 
 In the country she kept the Rev. Dichory Bird busy, 
 and in town she had bishops, deans, and archdeacons 
 on the track of Satan. At times she was unreason- 
 ably dejected, because, as Lord Wegron put it, her 
 huntsman failed to bag the quarry. But she went 
 on paying handsomely, and was the object of much 
 official sympathy on the part of the Church. 
 
 " Ah ! if the rich and great were all like your lady- 
 ship," eminent divines would write ecstatically, in 
 acknowledging her cheques, "how much it would 
 mean to us ! " 
 
 Naturally she was distressed by the story of Jenks'
 
 Mtne on tbc Xees 25 
 
 downfall and miser)'. In general, his wife's senti- 
 ments did not affect Lord Twickham, who had a will 
 and a way and opinions of his own. But in this 
 instance he looked at her wistfully, as with a secret 
 fellow-feeling. Then, having in his rapid and master- 
 ful fashion come to a decision, he turned to his son 
 and heir. 
 
 " Vin," he said abruptly, " I want you to do a little 
 business for me this afternoon." 
 
 The business was to seek out Jenny and her 
 husband, enquire cautiously into ways and means, 
 and give such aid in cash as might be charitable and 
 prudent. Vincent was ready in a jiffy, his alacrity 
 being due partly to filial devotion, partly to Lord 
 Tapley's meaning looks and whispers of adventure, 
 but chiefly (if the truth must be told) to the chance 
 thus opportunely presented by the Providence of 
 lovers, of getting Lady Gwendoline's opinion of a new 
 horse. At the proposition Lady Gwendoline's eyes 
 glowed and a transporting flush overspread her 
 piquant face. She would be delighted to judge. 
 The astute fancied they divined other delights ; and 
 as the party drove off in a high dogcart most of the 
 elderly people thought youth and love very touching 
 things. Only the two grisled lords viewed the tender 
 relations of Vincent and the Lady Gwendoline with 
 perfectly clear and unromantic eyes. 
 
 Lord Twickham had cash and, other considerations 
 being satisfactory, a leaning to blue blood ; Lord 
 Wegron had blue blood, and, irrespective of other 
 considerations, wanted cash. He was therefore 
 entirely satisfied with the state of affairs. Indeed it 
 was due principally to his own admirable tact ; for 
 he had taken pains to school his daughter in the 
 intricacies of the matrimonial question. A widower 
 for twelve years, the earl had several times during 
 that period considered the policy of ennobling the
 
 26 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 daughter, or widow (it was immaterial which) of an 
 American millionaire. When it came to terms, how- 
 ever, he rated blood above current prices. So the 
 twelve years passed and he was still in the market. 
 
 When he noticed the leaning of the House of 
 Twickham to the House of Wegron he loyally laid 
 his own love affairs aside to attend to those of his 
 daughter. At first Lady Gwendoline spoke contemp- 
 tuously of beer, but as a man of the world her father 
 speedily corrected her false notions. 
 
 " My child," he said impressively, one day when 
 they were alone, "the Wegrons have always been 
 distinguished for a nice taste in pleasure. That taste, 
 I am gratified to observe, continues. Believe me, I 
 love to see my daughter make a figure among the 
 great and the gay. A niggardly economy is the sure 
 mark of a low mind. Some people hoard riches after 
 the manner of the ant, a grain at a time. That has 
 never been our way. In truth the credit of the house 
 has been rather an expensive thing to maintain all 
 these centuries. I am not making any reflection on 
 my ancestors — they did well ; they even did nobly. 
 Wherever you find a Wegron there you find England's 
 best. But the expense of being princes and social 
 leaders is enormous. To be quite candid, the estates, 
 as you may have guessed, are embarrassed. Exercise 
 your good sense. Your fortune is in your own hands, 
 and to a considerable extent mine as well." 
 
 " You wouldn't have me make a mercenary 
 marriage," cried Lady Gwendoline. " Oh ! papa, that 
 were a fall for pride." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh," said the earl. " Don't be foolish. 
 Pride, my dear, must have something to stand on. It 
 prospers best on money. You remember the proverb : 
 ' If money go before, all waj's do lie open.' Not an 
 elevated sentiment, but true. On the score of 
 lineage, compared with the Wegrons, I grant you the
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 27 
 
 Twickhams are of yesterday, or rather of this morn- 
 ing. 1 have heard, too, that the founder of the family 
 wielded the shears — sartorially, not tonsorially ; a 
 tailor, not a barber." 
 
 " Shocking ! " ejaculated Lady Gwendoline. 
 
 " Not so shocking as it seems," responded the earl, 
 "We all start somewhere. If they don't lie, the best 
 of us are descended from a gardener, not too reput- 
 able a character either, by Jove. And Twickham the 
 tailor-brewer must have been a clever fellow. The 
 Twickhams deal in an article for the rabble — that's 
 disagreeable ; but they're rich, incredibly rich, and 
 they might have worse faults. If your sainted 
 mother were alive, Gwen, she'd put matters more 
 lucidly, more convincingly. As it pleased God to 
 deprive me of her counsel and guidance, I am charged 
 with a double duty towards you. I wish heaven 
 had spared me your mother. Be wise, my child. 
 Vincent Twickham has ^10,000 a year of pocket- 
 money." 
 
 He ended with such emotion in his voice that Lady 
 Gwendoline was overcome on the spot. So when 
 the crisis came she dutifully conferred her young 
 affections on Vincent, thinking of the /,' 10,000 a year 
 of pocket-money. For his part he adored her without 
 thought of her empty purse, and the world saw no 
 reason whatever to doubt that beer and blue blood 
 would make an excellent mixture. 
 
 " She is lucky," was the general verdict of her 
 friends. " A good fellow, and illimitable cash. Yes, 
 Gwen is lucky." 
 
 Somehow Vincent's luck was less remarked.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 " 'nr^HE Jolly Friar, I suppose," Vincent called over 
 JL his shoulder, as they entered St. Edmund. 
 
 " Likeliest place of worship for one of his faith," 
 answered Tapley. " Sure to be there or thereabouts, 
 unless old Lobes has had him chucked or run in 
 again." 
 
 Old Lobes was kind, or had not been provoked. 
 At the Jolly Friar they found Mr. Goodman holding 
 a sort of levee, and to all appearance gloriously in his 
 element. On catching sight of them Mr. Lobes, who 
 happened to be in his little private office and shirt 
 sleeves, slung on his best bar-coat, and hastened with 
 fit emotion and demeanour to welcome his distin- 
 guished visitors. He was a man with a bald head, 
 shaped like a pear, heavy end down, a watery eye, a 
 pasty complexion, and a most excellent nose, the 
 nose of the fa\'ourite of fortune, the nose which is not 
 easily put out of joint. You find precisely the same 
 style of organ leading cabinets, directing religion on 
 the episcopal bench, meting out justice in law courts, 
 creating sensations on the Stock Exchange, planning 
 and winning victories for armies and navies. A 
 fantastical logician has })lausibly held that great men's 
 brains must lodge in their noses ; for what, he asks, 
 are shrewdness and foresight but the power of scenting 
 the prize afar off? Mr. Lobes had the very best of 
 noses for smelling out good business. He had in 
 addition a cultivated taste in cigars, and unfailing 
 
 28
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 29 
 
 geniality in drinking with important customers. En- 
 dowed with abundant self-esteem only one thing 
 really awed him — the presence of a Twickham. For 
 the Jolly Friar was one of the multitude of Twickham 
 tied-houses. The visit of Vincent was therefore an 
 event for the red-letter calendar. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Lobes ? " said Vincent affably taking 
 the landlord's puffy hand. 
 
 " Putty well, sir, putty well, a' thank you," answered 
 Lobes gratefully, making a double genuflexion. 
 
 " Humming, by Jove," remarked Tapley, fixing his 
 eyeglass very deliberately and surveying the room. 
 " I say, Lobes, you know, dem me if there's anything 
 like a rattling pub. You just sit comfortably smoking 
 at the receipt of custom, and watch the beer pouring 
 out and the cash pouring in. I've a good mind to 
 start an opposition shop." 
 
 Mr. Lobes grinned deferentially. 
 
 " Things is putty well, my lord, putty well a-con- 
 siderin' ; he admitted. " It's the Twickham ale as 
 does it, my lord," he pursued, putting his oozy lips 
 uncomfortably close to Tapley's ear. " Three-and- 
 thirty year I've been a 'andling that beer — three an' 
 thirty year come noon o' Michaelmas ; an' I tell you 
 wot it is, my lord, it's a gettin' more popilar every day. 
 Rema'kable, but it's trewth. 'Fon my honour." 
 
 "Swear not by your honour, Lobes," returned 
 Tapley, moving beyond range of Lobes's perfumed 
 breath. " The stuff's good. Lobes, tell me ; is beer 
 made for the Englishman or the Englishman for 
 beer ? " 
 
 " Made for one another like man an' wife," replied 
 Lobes gleefully. 
 
 "Good, Lobes," cried Tapley. "First rate. If 
 you hadn't been born for higher things you'd have 
 made your mark as a wit. Interesting company to- 
 day. Lobes."
 
 30 Mtne on tbe Xeee I 
 
 " Your lordship may say so," responded Lobes, with 
 a meaning bow. 
 
 They were approaching the bar at which Mr. 
 Goodman held court, and at the sound of new voices 
 he turned, eyeing the intruders suspiciously. 
 
 " Oo's the bloomin' swells ? " he asked gruffly. | 
 
 Some one whispered in his ear ; he snorted like a 
 wild beast and his single eye glowed viciously. 
 
 " Son of the beak," he muttered from between set 
 teeth. "The bloomin' skunk has robbed me this 
 morning and insulted me to the bargain." 
 
 He took a step forward, his livid right eye fixed on 
 Vincent, his body gathered as for a spring, his fists 
 clenching automatically. Tapley dropped his eye- 
 glass in some excitement. 
 
 " Vin," he said, in a hurried aside. " Get in the first 
 right-hander, on the jaw if you can. Everything 
 depends on being first. Plaster him against the wall 
 — or wait, let me do it." 
 
 But Mr. Tobes had stepped to the front, outraged 
 authority in his mien, his hand raised imperatively 
 for peace. 
 
 " Since I knowed it the Jolly Friar has alius bin 
 rema'kable for good border," he said, drawing himself 
 up in his most imposing manner, " and we ain't agoin' 
 to stand no row from you. Take that es settled. 
 Behive like a gentleman — pay your money and take 
 your liquor decently and according to rules, and 
 you're welcome — distub the peace and hout you go 
 though you was made of gold and stamped at 'er 
 Majesty's mint. That's the motto of this 'ouse. 
 Take note, so as to prevent mistakes." 
 
 Dick, who was a good half-foot taller than Mr. 
 Lobes, though somewhat slimmer in the waist, looked 
 down half savagely, half disdainfully. 
 
 " Chuck me out, will ycr ? " he sneered. " I knows 
 the gime of public-'ouses right through, top to bottom.
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 31 
 
 I tell you wot, I've been a chucker-out where ye'd 
 be took with the ague at the bare idea of showin' 
 yer pie-crust phiz. Chuck me out! I've pitched 
 'undreds of gents, better'n your father ever thought of 
 makin' you, on their 'eads, right on their nuts an' 
 heard him crack. Get out'n my way." 
 
 Though fearing nothing in human form, Mr. 
 Goodman nevertheless realised the folly of knocking 
 down the landlord of a public-house on his own floor. 
 So he dodged. Mr. Lobes also dodged, and with 
 such amazing vigour and agility that the two collided 
 violently. It was Mr. Lobes who recoiled groaning, 
 both hands clasped on an injured and protesting 
 paunch. Behind arose a tnmultuous murmur and 
 rustle of excited feet. A barman valiantly leaped 
 the counter to cope with the aggressor ; but, luckily 
 for himself, was too late to get in the way. Dick 
 made straight at his enemy ; and Vincent, who had 
 graduated in the noblest of arts, promptly put himself 
 into an attitude of defence. A thrill in every nerve, 
 and lithely poised to strike or evade, he awaited the 
 onset. But almost in the instant of action he was 
 gripped by the shoulder and jerked aside. 
 
 " Leave him to me, I'll pepper him," said Tapley 
 coolly fronting the infuriated Goodman. 
 
 At this unexpected manoeuvre Dick paused, hold- 
 ing his breath in astonishment. Then, in spite of 
 himself, he smiled, and the whole room instinctively 
 stood still and watched. He honoured pluck, and 
 here was audacity of the most captivating kind. 
 For Tapley, though "prime "of his inches, was to 
 his antagonist as a leopard to a lion : one stroke of 
 the great paw and he should be senseless or writhing. 
 Mr. Goodman looked down upon the boyish figure 
 before him as Goliath might have looked down on the 
 stripling David. Tapley was but a soft youth, while 
 Mr. Goodman was a man of war from his childhood
 
 32 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 up ; a man, moreover, little accustomed to stick at 
 trifles. The odds in his own favour both cooled and 
 amused him. 
 
 "You oughter be in the army, Tottie," he said, 
 almost genially. " I've followed worse men, 'eaps 
 an' 'eaps of 'em." 
 
 The landlord who was getting over his pain, 
 suddenly set up a cry of " police " ; but Vincent 
 begged him to forbear, since he and his friend had 
 really come to look after this breaker of the peace. 
 Saying that he made to get in front of Tapley. 
 
 " The quarrel's mine," he said with a quick 
 retightening of the muscles. 
 
 But Tapley was not to be displaced. 
 
 "jy ^^''i^ify I'cstel^ he answered, nodding at Vincent, 
 He was not angry nor aggressive ; he was not even 
 defiant. He was merely cool and good-humoured. 
 
 " Mumps old man," he remarked glancing at Dick's 
 swollen jaws. " Might hurt you know. I call a 
 truce. My friend and I didn't come here to put 
 you to the trouble of fighting us. Honour me by 
 intimating what you'll have to drink." 
 
 " An' let you have first lick, eh," responded Dick 
 smelling treachery. " Bloomin' likely." 
 
 " I ask you," rejoined Tapley unabashed, " if you'll 
 do us the honour of drinking with us. We're all 
 gentlemen, I think. If you insist on a fight why 
 conditions can be arranged according to the laws 
 which govern the conduct of gentlemen. If this isn't 
 honest Abraham, you'll pepper me hands down. 
 How d'ye feel?" 
 
 " Well ! you're a prime little cove, an' no mistake," 
 returned Mr. Goodman, softening perceptibly. "Since 
 ye arsk me, I'm dry and a bit peckish." 
 
 " Just so," said Tapley with the air of a physician 
 prescribing for a patient. " Just so. Well ! what do 
 you say to a plate of good old roast, the roast beef 
 
 I
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 33 
 
 of old England, to keep the liquid from slipping 
 down too fast ? Mr. Lobes, roast beef for one, if 
 you please." 
 
 "If you wants it, my lord," responded Lobes 
 doubtfully. 
 
 " I said for one, Lobes," rejoined Tapley. " Look 
 here, mine host of the Jolly Friar, make it for three, 
 and add a private room." 
 
 And he began to hum : 
 
 " ' O Crikey, Bill,' ses she to me, she ses, 
 ' Look sharp,' ses she, ' with them there sossiges. 
 Yes ! sharp with them there bags of mysteree ! 
 For lo I ' she ses, ' for lo ! old pal,' ses she, 
 ' I'm blooming peckish, neither more nor less.'" 
 
 " Mr. Lobes, lead the way ; Mr Goodman the 
 honour of your company," bowing and smiling. 
 
 Mr. Goodman's single eye opened still wider in 
 wonder and a smile lit the corners of his mouth, 
 
 " 'Scuse me, sir," he said, " but I can see as you've 
 been down our way." 
 
 " And what way is that ? " asked Tapley. 
 
 " Mile-End, Whitechapcl, down heast generally." 
 
 " Bless you," answered Tapley, " I've heaps of 
 friends there. Know Velvet Chick — does a little of 
 the scientific and is the best judge of a bull-pup in 
 the British Isles, or anywhere else. You know him ? " 
 
 " Lor', sir, you don't mean Chick, as knocked Cock 
 Robin out twenty-third round and broke his arm." 
 
 " I mean Chick, as knocked Cock Robin out twenty- 
 third round and broke his arm." 
 
 " Crickey," cried Dick, " ain't me an' him just the 
 biggest pals. See that eye, sir. Couldn't count the 
 times it's been bunged up by Velvet Chick. Don't 
 'appen to know Tommy Binks, sir ? " 
 
 " Binks ! " repeated Tapley, gripping his chin to 
 think the better, 
 
 3
 
 34 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Tommy Binks of the Ruggler Den," added Dick. 
 
 " Binks of the Ruggler Den," said Tapley. " Let 
 me see. Does he sing ' The Chickaleary Cove ' when 
 he's merry ? " 
 
 " The very man," cried Dick rapturously. " 'Eavens 
 above ! how did you find your way here, sir ? Blest 
 if it ain't a special Providence." 
 
 "Come and I'll tell you," replied Tapley. 
 
 " What about Gwendoline ? " asked Vincent. 
 
 " Oh ! by Jove, I had forgotten Gwen. Vin, you 
 shouldn't have brought her. In affairs of this sort 
 women are always in the way. Let me see. You 
 can trust your man with that horse ? Yes ? very 
 well. Gwen's the best hand in the world at filling 
 in odd half-hours with shopping. Let's send her 
 the round of the milliners." 
 
 The proposal was submitted to Lady Gwendoline 
 who was all graciousness and assent. 
 
 " Only," she stipulated, addressing her brother, "you 
 foot the bills, you know." 
 
 He made a wry mouth. 
 
 " If I must, I must," he said, " only for God's sake, 
 Gwen, be moderate. It gives me the shivers to think 
 how far I'm over my allowance already." 
 
 Instead of replying she smiled down upon Vincent. 
 
 "And I'm to have this high stepper for a whole 
 hour. Well ! I drive you know ; and, by the way, 
 you don't mind a little white on the flank." 
 
 Vincent didn't mind if flanks dripped foam. So 
 Lady Gwendoline drove off joyously, leaving the 
 gentlemen free to entertain Dick.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 DESPITE his little burst of confidence Mr. Good- 
 man did not immediately take his new friends 
 to his heart The meeting was singular and un- 
 expected. Not that the unexpected any longer 
 caused Dick surprise. With him it was usually the 
 expected which didn't come to pass. Consequently 
 there was no occasion to gape. Still in a world of 
 guile one must be on one's guard and, as a matter of 
 principle, Goodman trusted no one. When innocent 
 people spoke of the underlying goodness of the race 
 he could not help bursting into hoarse laughter of 
 ridicule. Yes 1 he knew all about the goodness of the 
 race. Would to God he possessed in hard cash all that 
 the knowledge had cost him. ! Yet he made no moan 
 over the expense of his education. He had his 
 strokes of luck like others ; when reverses came they 
 were accepted as part of the game. As for the good 
 that is done by stealth, of that he had no experience. 
 He had no reason to suppose that his present com- 
 panions dropped from heaven on a special errand of 
 mercy. So far as could be judged they were extremely 
 human, as human as most of the other serpents that had 
 stung him in his progress through the jungles of this 
 world. With a fierce beat of the pulse it came back to 
 him, that one of them, apparently the chief, though the 
 less demonstrative, was the son of the" beak," the smug 
 oppressor who had taken his last penny for a mere 
 frolic. The other might be a gilded rip, no better 
 
 35
 
 36 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 than himself. He had heard dough- faced Lobes 
 address him as " my lord " : but titles are cheap — ay, 
 often cheap and nasty. What was the motive for all 
 this display of philanthropy ? Another deception ? 
 By the gods of the desperate, let him take care ! 
 
 On entering the room reserved for the trio by the 
 puzzled Lobes, he slouched into a corner, and instead 
 of cramming his cap into a pocket, according to habit 
 on great occasions, he drew it defiantly over his brows. 
 Thus he sat lowering and watching, fox and wolf in 
 one, his solitary eye expressing avid hate and distrust. 
 What little game were these tailor-made things play- 
 ing ? They were very fine and gracious, oh ! mighty 
 kind to a poor bloke who couldn't as much as stand 
 his turn of the drinks. Did they imagine he was 
 blind because for the present he had but one eye? 
 If so, they might awaken suddenly to a sense of their 
 error. 
 
 It amused him to watch their manoeuvring. He 
 even admired their cunning, their easy supple move- 
 ments, as of serpents noiselessly coiling and gliding : 
 Then, at the recurring thought of his empty pockets, 
 the tide of his anger rose afresh. His face burned, 
 his fingers itched. What he wanted, what he meant 
 to have, was revenge, a thing sweeter than all the 
 beef and ale in England. With passion gurgling in 
 his throat and throbbing along his veins, he got to 
 his feet, vaguely intent on mischief — and encountered 
 the persuasive eye of Tapley. 
 
 "Getting impatient?" smiled the viscount; "and 
 no wonder. Our friend Lobes doesn't know the 
 meaning of haste. If he doesn't look out, the great 
 Peter will bang the door in his face some day. Serve 
 him jolly well right too, say I. But here comes the 
 stuff at last. Goodman, on my right here, if you 
 please," seating himself as president of the feast. 
 " Vin, we'll relegate you to the left. Sheep and goats,
 
 Mine on the %cc5 37 
 
 by Jove ! quite Scriptural. Pray, Goodman, no re- 
 moving of headgear. We know what bandages are." 
 Goodman flopped into the chair set for him by the 
 obsequious waiter, wondering within himself why he 
 was giving way. To be sure, the odours were savoury 
 and the calls of his stomach peremptory. Besides, it 
 would be a delightful stroke of irony to dine at the 
 expense of those whom he intended to knock to 
 jelly afterwards. It was like making them provide 
 the weapons for their own execution. 
 
 " Don't mind a cove that's peckish settin' to work 
 without grace ? " he said, seizing a knife and fork. 
 
 Tapley lay back in his chair, laughing aloud. " A 
 wag of the first water," he cried. " Said so the instant 
 I clapped eyes on you — something in your looks, you 
 know. Grace ! fall to, dear boy, fall to. And what's 
 to be the liquid ? " 
 
 " Reckon there ain't nothin' 'ere but Twickham," 
 growled Dick, with a glance at Vincent. " Had a 
 sickenin' dose of him this morning — cleared me out 
 — he did. But we'll have some more of 'im." 
 
 " Waiter, three glasses of your best ale, please," 
 Tapley called, managing at the same time to wink 
 at his friend. " And Goodman, my boy, what about 
 pickles?" 
 
 " Pickles ? " echoed Goodman, lifting his head and 
 staying operations with his jaws. 
 
 "Pickles," repeated his host. "For myself as I'm 
 a little off my feed, I'll indulge in an olive. Tickles 
 the appetite you know." 
 
 "H'm!" snorted Goodman. "Needs a power of 
 ticklin', don't it ? If you was 'long o' me for a month, 
 t'wouldn't be the happetite as ye'd be troublin' 'bout. 
 Got an onion ? " he demanded, so sharply that the 
 obsequious, red-haired waiter started. 
 
 " Yes— sir." 
 
 Dick looked up contemptuously.
 
 38 Mine en tbe Xees 
 
 " Oh, you needn't be makin' yerself tired with no 
 bloomin' 'sirs,'" he said caustically. " An' it ain't in 
 the least necessary to be crookin' yer backbone to 
 me," as the waiter, not knowing what else to do, 
 bowed profoundly. " We'll hexcuse ceremony in the 
 canteen department. Let's 'ave the onion." 
 
 He had his jar of pickled onions, and for a while ate 
 desperately and in silence, the others merely winking 
 and looking on. He seemed to be making up for 
 six months' arrears, and it might be impolitic to 
 interrupt. At length he laid down an empty glass, 
 drew the back of his hand across his mouth, and lay 
 back with a grunt of satisfaction. At that sign of 
 content Tapley called for cigars. 
 
 " Eating's too serious a business to be interrupted," 
 he observed, holding out the open box to Dick. 
 " Over these we can talk." 
 
 The features under the cap and bandages expanded 
 in a sudden grin. 
 
 " I say, matey," cried their owner, " am I dreamin' 
 or is this 'eaven ? More'n one ? " 
 
 " A fistful, by all means," was the cordial response. 
 " Or, wait, accept the box as it stands. I can see 
 you're a connoisseur." 
 
 " Eh ! The whole bloomin' lot ! Tottie you're 
 agoin' it," taking possession of the box. " You're 
 adoin' it 'ot, an' no mistake. Well ! 'ere's to yer 
 'ealth," striking a match. " Ye might be bigger, 
 Tottie, ye might be bigger, but ye could 'ardly be 
 better." 
 
 " No flattery," returned Tapley modestly. 
 
 " Oh, Lor' ! " laughed Goodman. " I'm a born 
 flatterer, I am — meets a cove by chance in a public- 
 'ouse, an' butters him till he shines — that's me. 
 Tottie, I've cracked 'eads for less. Have a cigar," 
 holding out the box in turn. " I've 'eard as how the 
 weed makes you feel 'eavenly arter a good tuck in."
 
 mine on tbe Xees 39 
 
 When Tapley had helped himself, the box was 
 passed on to Vincent. 
 
 " 'Ave one of Mr. Lobes' cigars, sir," said Dick, 
 " considerin' the circumstances reckon it's good. 
 Don't you be a-taking it to 'art as you're a 
 Tvvickham. You ain't sponsible for that. The best 
 of us must 'ave an old man ; and Tvvickham's good, 
 though the guv'nor won't believe as a poor peckish 
 bloke, down on his luck, can get fuddled on it. If he 
 was to try same as me, he'd find out. Yes, sir, 
 Tvvickham's dam good." 
 
 Vincent thanked him for the testimonial, and the 
 three lay back each behind a coiling cloud of smoke. 
 By-and-by Tapley adjusted his eye-glass, and looked 
 quizzically at the guest. 
 
 " Goodman," he drawled. " I think you've a 
 history." 
 
 " Shouldn't be 'sprised, Tottie," returned Dick 
 pleasantly, being greatly mollified by the improve- 
 ment in the inner man. " Ain't you got one ? " 
 
 " I ? Oh, mine is commonplace — the story of the 
 herd, you know. We haven't all equal chances. 
 Fate's limited my range ; but you — I'll wager you've 
 been up and down the world, as the parson says, like 
 the very devil himself." 
 
 " Passon knows a 'eap 'bout the devil," chuckled 
 Dick. " When I was in the army our Scotch chaplain 
 told us things 'bout 'eaven an' 'ell an' old Nick as 'ud 
 make you sweat to hear 'em, though I 'spicioned 
 chaplain was just kiddin', to keep us straight." 
 
 " So you've worn the Queen's steel on your left hip," 
 said Vincent, sitting up. " Please tell us the story. 
 We love adventure." 
 
 " So does most folks sittin' in easy chairs suckin' 
 cigars arter dinner," responded Dick. " Well, I done 
 my seven year in 'er Majesty's togs, an' a bit of foreign 
 to the bargain. Reckon I'm brown yet, if you was to
 
 40 Mine on tbe %ccs 
 
 look well. Know the 42nd Royal 'Ighlanders, Black 
 Watch ? — that was my regiment, an' though I ain't no 
 'Ighlander, I'll say this for 'em : started proper, they'd 
 chaw up any other thousand men out of perdition, 
 they would, an' smack their gobs when the job was 
 done ! Oh Lor' ! they are gluttons for blood ! " he 
 pursued, reminiscently. " Start 'em with prayer an' 
 prime 'em with grog, give 'em pipes an' bayonets an' 
 let 'em go ! — 'Ighlanders at the charge, 'Ighlanders a- 
 cheerin' an' goin' for the enemy, — it's 'ell, sir, roarin', 
 glorious 'ell ! " He gave two or three vigorous pulls at 
 his cigar and sat erect, the old excitement of battle 
 shining in his eye. 
 
 " I can hear the dam pipes now ! " he cried, " an' the 
 Serjeant's Scotch accent a-keepin' us steady, an' the 
 colonel telling us the general said we was to take the 
 position, an' he needn't be informin' any man in 42nd 
 tartan wot was expected of him. And then the roar 
 as drowned everything, an' we was off straight for the 
 belchin' guns. Ay, sir, an' the position was took 
 arter a dandy English regiment had run, tail down ! 
 I hear them bullets a-whizzin' yet ! " 
 " Bully ! " cried Tapley, " go on." 
 " I've 'eard," continued Goodman, " I've 'eard Lord 
 Wolseley makin' a speech 'bout the red 'eckle of the 
 'Ighlanders, an' how he felt safe when he saw it. 
 It was at Cairo, arter a little holiday trip up the 
 Nile to have a skitc at the Devrishes. I tell you wot, 
 the red 'eckle's made 'im and many like 'im." 
 
 " I shall respect the red heckle for ever," said 
 Vincent. " But I judge you're a cockney ? Isn't it 
 rare for cockneys to enlist in Highland regiments ? " 
 
 " Yes, pretty rare," admitted Goodman. " It was 
 like this, you see. Bob McCrae comes up to London 
 the 'ope of his family, at 'ome in Scotland, wot was 
 prayin' for 'im an' sendin' directions 'bout goin' to 
 church. Bob thought the other place suited his con-
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 41 
 
 stitution best. Well, me an' 'im drinks, fights, 
 chums it, an' eventooaly gets through all our loose 
 change. One night, when we was stone-broke an' was 
 chucked out of three public-'ouses, we went to 'ave a 
 snooze beside the lions in Trafalgar Square — bein' in 
 that neighbourhood. Dessay you know the place ? 
 Well, our blinkers was just a-closin' comfortable when 
 up comes a copper an' turns his bull's-eye on us. ' No 
 sleepin' 'ere,' says he. ' Move on ! ' We tried another 
 pub, an' got chucked again. 
 
 " ' No go,' says Bob ; ' 'ere's for the Embankment ' ; 
 an' as we was goin' down White'all, we sees the 'Oss 
 Guards' 'elmet, breastplate, an' all a-shinin'. Bob 
 draws himself up before the hequestrian statoo at the 
 sentry-box an' studies it. 
 
 "' Do you know wot it is ?' says he. ' I'm sick of 
 this : I'm cold, I'm sleepy, I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, 
 I'm out at heel, an' I've no cash. I've a good mind 
 to 'list.' 
 
 " ' Don't be a moke,' says I. 
 
 " ' Yes,' says he, ' an' it'll be a regiment of the line 
 an' none o' yer fancy-work 'bout White'all,' says he. 
 ' I want 'bout as bad as possible to stick somebody. A 
 'Ighland regiment ; an' Dicky,' says he, ' Dicky, you'll 
 come with me ? ' 
 
 " ' Don't be a moke,' says I again. ' Come on, or 
 every blessed seat on the Embankment'll be took ! ' 
 
 " ' Man, I'm hardly fit,' says he. ' O God ! for one 
 square feed of 'aggis, an' vengeance, vengeance ! ' An' 
 he walked on, his chin in his breast, a-muttcrin' the 
 word. ' Dicky,' says he, as he was a-settling himself 
 on the Embankment, ' Dicky, if I'm disturbed, it'll be 
 murder or 'listin' ! I wish I had never seen your 
 dam London ! Did you ever hear of the porch of 
 'ell ? ' says he. 
 
 " ' No,' says I, never.' 
 
 ' ' Oh, you blazing idiot ! you're in it,' says he.
 
 42 Mine on tbc Xees 
 
 This is it, — this great city, Dicky, with all the food 
 an' drink an' money that you an' me mustn't touch. 
 This is it — this is purgatory,' says he. ' Dicky, you'll 
 stand by me ? ' 
 
 "We 'adn't begun to nod when up comes the copper 
 with his ' No sleepin' 'ere. Move on ! ' Bob rose 
 an' shook himself. The moon was shinin' on the 
 river an' the roofs of S'uthwark, an' the gas-lamp 
 beside us lighted Bob's face. You should 'ave 
 seen the look on it ! 
 
 " ' I don't want to be messed up with no coroner's 
 inquest,' says I. * Come 'ome.' 
 
 " ' Come 'ome ? ' says he. ' Dicky, none o' yer 
 chaff?' An' then, suddint as lightnin', 'You know the 
 bargain ? ' says he. 
 
 "' Come on,' says I, 'regiment o' the line or any 
 other dam thing you like ! I'm sick of this, too.' So 
 Bob an' me was made'Ighlanders. Afore we knowed 
 wot was 'appenin' we was doin' the goose-step at 
 Aldershot with other rookies, an' four months arter 
 had our first swing on the troop-ship. He's a 
 sergeant-major now, an' I'm — I'm back in the 
 porch of 'ell." 
 
 .-..!#"
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 HE ended with such passionate resentment of 
 tone and mien that Tapley hurriedly ordered 
 a liqueur. While the cordial was diffusing its mellow 
 glow, Vincent delicately enquired for Mrs. Goodman. 
 Dick turned upon him as if struck. So this was their 
 game, — corrupting the husband to get at the wife. 
 He pulled himself together for action. 
 
 " My wife ! " he said, the note of murder in his voice, 
 " my wife ! " and he demanded with a lurid oath what 
 they wanted with his wife. Vincent answered meekly 
 that, having chanced to hear of her unpleasant 
 experiences in court that morning, they were 
 interested in her welfare. Goodman made a noise, 
 half growl, half gurgle, like a baited beast of prey. 
 A little more presumption, a little more provocation, 
 and he would twist their heads off their bodies. 
 
 " The beak's your guv'nor," he said, bending with a 
 menace towards Vincent. 
 
 " My father is chairman of the local bench of 
 magistrates," was the answer. 
 
 Goodman slid furthur forward, crouched as if for 
 a spring. 
 
 " Curse him !" he cried, his face glowing malignantly. 
 " Damn him ! curse him from head to foot — him and 
 everything that's his ! " 
 
 " Old man, that's getting personal," put in Tapley 
 in his suavest manner. " Have another liqueur." 
 
 " Lor,' that I had 'im just for five minutes ! " hissed 
 
 43
 
 44 Mine on tbe Xecs 
 
 Goodman, grinding teeth and heels in the fury of 
 his hate. " He robbed me — 'im that has so much 
 money, 'im that makes the drink as sends us poor 
 blokes out'n our senses. He robbed me — and now 
 you come arter my wife ! Think I got her for your 
 convenience ? Dessay you'd like that. I know you, 
 an' the sort of you, an' you shan't have her, not if 
 you was to pay down a thousand pound in gold. 
 This morning your father took her last farthin', 
 and " 
 
 " There ! " cried Tapley joyfully. " There ! that's 
 the point, that's business. Here, tumble off this 
 liqueur, and you may hear of something to your 
 advantage, as the lawyers say." 
 
 There was a brotherly quality in Tapley which 
 was irresistible. Goodman took the liqueur mechani- 
 cally, swallowed it at a gulp, and waited. Tapley 
 made haste to present their case. 
 
 " That's worth having, isn't it ? " he asked cordially. 
 " Give me a man who knows good stuff when he 
 tastes it. Well ! now to business, as the monk said 
 when he kissed the nun ; and, Goodman, my boy, pray 
 lend me your best ear. If you had no objections, 
 mark you, no objections, for of course, as you have so 
 justly indicated, a wife is private property, as sacred 
 to her lord as law can make her — well, if you had 
 no objections, believed in our integrity as gentlemen, 
 and all that, we thought we might possibly be allowed 
 to express our sympathy with Mrs. Goodman. You 
 quite understand me ? " 
 
 " Dunno," growled Goodman. 
 
 "Well," explained Tapley, "with your assent — 
 mark you, not without — our sympathy would naturally 
 take the most fitting form. Twig ? " 
 
 "In coin ?" asked Goodman. 
 
 " Let us say in coin." 
 
 " Then," said the lord and master, planting himself
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 45 
 
 more firmly in his chair, " you can express it to me. 
 Save trouble." 
 
 Fox and wolf were again alert in him. 
 
 " We thought perhaps you would do us the honour 
 of introducing us," said Vincent. " The truth is, we 
 have discovered that Mrs. Goodman is an old ser — an 
 old friend of my mother's, and, naturally, we're all 
 interested in her." 
 
 " Ah ! very likely," said Dick. " Well, I knows all 
 about her. Fire away ! " 
 
 Vincent had recourse to something more potent 
 than words. Putting his hand in his pocket he drew 
 forth some silver. 
 
 " The best of us may be caught short," he observed. 
 " Favour me by accepting this," and without counting 
 it he held out the money. 
 
 Goodman's involuntary smirk was as the sudden 
 breaking of the sun through thunder clouds. 
 
 " By Jupiter, ten bob ! " he cried, clutching and 
 counting his wealth. He yelled at the red-haired 
 waiter. " Three mugs of yer A i ale, Mr. Foxy," he 
 called. "An' look skinny. Don't waste time a- 
 beckin' an' a-bowin', an' ye needn't pretend as ye've 
 got to brew it. Come, double, if you know 'ow. 
 This suits me proper, sir," casting a comic, half- 
 defiant, half-apologetic look at Vincent ; " the five 
 bob wot the guv'nor took, an' five for a extra booze." 
 
 " A trump," murmured Tapley ; and when the 
 grimacing waiter had set down the ale 
 
 •'I drink this cup to one made up 
 Of loveliness alone." 
 
 Goodman, my boy, give me leave to pledge Mrs. G. ? 
 There, let's tumble off and go." 
 
 Dick promptly " tumbled off," but declined to go. 
 
 " Tottie," he said gravely, " don't you be a-trying
 
 46 Mtne on tbe Xees 
 
 to insult me, for fear you might succeed. That's 
 a-playing with a powder-magazine — dangerous. Put 
 it down, fair an' square, so as all may read that I 
 ain't goin' to budge till we 'ave another swill." 
 
 Another " swill " got him on his feet, and much 
 adroit persuasion induced him to walk outside — after 
 bidding Mr. Lobes an ostentatious farewell. His gait 
 was wavering and his speech huskily disputatious. 
 He had a monstrous grievance against his kind, at 
 which he hinted in words of awful significance. He 
 railed on " beaks," but, remembering the silver, contra- 
 dicted scripture by affirming that the sins of the 
 fathers ought not to be visited on the children. The 
 quick beat of a horse's hoofs caught his ear, and, 
 wheeling, he spied a high dog-cart, with a lady driving. 
 He struck an attitude of admiration. 
 
 " That's my style, now," he remarked, as she 
 approached at a spanking pace. " O Lor' ! if I had 
 just the 'oof ! She 'andles them ribbons pretty, don't 
 she ? Ain't I seen the kernel's wife a-doin' the same 
 'undreds an' 'undreds of times." 
 
 Lady Gwendoline advanced in a style which made 
 her brother and lover also stand and admire. They 
 spoke of the horse ; Goodman eulogised the lady. 
 " Give me the 'oof," he remarked at large, " an' I tell 
 ye straight that's the kind of gel for me." 
 
 Vincent stepped out to meet her, Tapley followed, 
 and Mr. Goodman drew himself up rigidly to the 
 salute. 
 
 Lady Gwendoline pulled up, enquiring where they 
 had been and what they were about. She might have 
 bought all that was worth buying in St. Edmund 
 since leaving them. They answered briefly that 
 they had been engaged with the martial figure on the 
 side-walk, explained they might be detained for a 
 little while longer, and begged her to drive to 
 Twickham Towers and report.
 
 mine on tbe Xees 47 
 
 She blithely nodded assent, tapping the horse with 
 her whip-handle. 
 
 " He'll do," she commented, " carriage good, and 
 easy on the bit. You see his flanks ; I'll confess they 
 might be whiter. We've had a spin." 
 
 As Vincent acknowledged the compliment to his 
 skill in choosing a horse, Dick involuntarily saluted, 
 the military habit being still strong upon him in 
 gallant or admiring moods. When she turned, showing 
 them clean hoofs, he launched into direct encomium. 
 
 " She's a dandy, she is ! " he remarked ardently, if 
 with a suspicion of thickness, gazing after the retreat- 
 ing vehicle. " I tell you, the 'oss as she's behind ain't 
 likely to fall asleep. That's wot the 'oof does. 
 Gawd in 'eaven, if I had just lots of chink ! " 
 
 They gently reminded him of the business in hand 
 and asked for the address. He had forgotten it. 
 S'elp him, Jupiter, if he could remember either street 
 or number. Another offering of silver stimulated his 
 memory to the right pitch. Then a cab was hailed, 
 and they were driven to an outlying street in the 
 poorer quarter of the town. The place named by 
 Dick was the house in which Jenny Jenks was born, 
 the house whence, one shining May-day, she went 
 forth, dewy-eyed and radiantly hopeful, to take the 
 train to London — the city of dreams and marvels. 
 Strangers were now in possession ; but in the hour 
 of desolation she turned instinctively to the old home, 
 and pitying hearts gave shelter. 
 
 At the head of the street the cab was dismissed on 
 Vincent's suggestion that they should approach on 
 foot. On reaching the little gate in the trelHsed 
 fence erected by Jenny's father in summer evenings 
 long ago, they heard a sweet, low crooning, such as 
 mothers in every land use in putting their children to 
 sleep. Tapley looked quecrly at Vincent, and, by a 
 common impulse, the two paused an instant with
 
 48 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 bent ear, listening. Then they went softly up the 
 green-bordered path, followed not so softly by Dick. 
 As they drew near the door the crooning rose, fell, 
 stopped, began again and suddenly ceased. Then 
 the voice within was raised plaintively, and the words 
 of an old hymn floated to the ears of those outside. 
 
 " Had I the wings of a dove I would fly 
 Far, far away, far, far away ; 
 Where not a cloud ever darkens the sky, 
 Far, far away, far, far away." 
 
 With an oath Dick leaped forward and struck the 
 door with his clenched fist. The singing stopped, 
 and a little girl, answering the thunderous summons, 
 peered timidly from behind the half-open door. 
 Recognising Goodman she made way, and he strode 
 fiercely into the little room off the passage, in which 
 his wife sat, calling on his companions to follow. By 
 way of asserting authority, he banged the door 
 violently behind them. His wife rose, with the child 
 in her arms, looking at him appealingly. 
 
 " Oh, Dick, where have you been ? " she asked. " I 
 have been worryin' so about you." 
 
 " Where have I been ? " he roared, " a-listenin' to 
 your dam doxologies ! 'Ell, but you make me sick. 
 You've been singin' 'bout flyin' away on the wings 
 of a dove. I wish to Gawd ye had 'em — I wish ye 
 had 'em ! " 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! " she said ; the agony of heart-break 
 in her voice. 
 
 " That's it," he cried, with a fiercer note. " It's ' Oh, 
 Dick ! ' an' ' Oh, Dick ! ' wotever 1 does. I tell you, I 
 ain't goin' to stand it." 
 
 She looked at him mutely out of big, pleading eyes. 
 Would he not have pity on her in the presence of 
 others ? He had been better pleased had she hit out 
 in the manner of spirited East-end wives, so that he
 
 Mine on tbe %cc5 49 
 
 might have an excuse for retributive measures. Her 
 very meekness was an exasperation. 
 
 The exquisite misery of her looks would have 
 touched harder, less gallant hearts than her visitors'. 
 Her eyes were red, and tracks of recent tears were on 
 her thin cheeks. Her dress, to the masculine eye, 
 was mere rags, yet there was the distinct impression 
 of personal cleanliness and neatness, as of one in love 
 with soap and water, and deft with her needle. 
 Studying the white, pathetic face it was easy to under- 
 stand why Lady Twickham had called her the pretty 
 Jenny Jcnks ; she had still a subdued comeliness of 
 feature. It was less easy to make out why, with her 
 soft ways and fawn-like timidity of manner, she ever 
 came to be the mate of Richard Goodman. 
 
 The child, frightened into wakefulness, strove to 
 hide in its mother's bosom, crying fretfully. Its 
 whimpering fanned the fires of Mr. Goodman's anger 
 to a blaze. 
 
 " Why ain't that kid sleepin' ? " he demanded. 
 "Is a man alius to be comin' in to yellin' kids ? Choke 
 her off, I say." 
 
 " I was just tryin' to put her to sleep when you 
 came, Dick." 
 
 " Tryin' ! " he repeated furiously. " Yer alius tryin'. 
 'Bout time you was doin' something. Here, give 
 her to me." 
 
 " She'll go to sleep," returned his wife, swinging 
 half round, and pressing the clinging child tighter to 
 her breast. " Won't ye, Loo ? There, daddy, she's 
 goin' to sleep." 
 
 " Give me the kid ! " roared Dick, clutching Jenny 
 by the shoulder so that she reeled. 
 
 " Dick, Dick, don't hurt her ! " cried Jenny, her eyes 
 starting in sudden terror. 
 
 " Give her up, or, by thunder, I'll hurt you," was the 
 response.
 
 50 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Yes, Dick, yes," and she obediently delivered up 
 Loo, smothering a plea for mercy lest it should incite 
 to vengeance. 
 
 As he seized the child he felt the gentle, but firm, 
 pressure of a hand on his arm. 
 
 "It is part of the religion of a gentleman not to 
 abuse women and children," Vincent said quietly in 
 his ear. 
 
 Mr. Goodman dumped the child on the bed to deal 
 with the interloper. 
 
 " Who the blazes sent you to teach me manners ? " 
 he retorted with a more terrible suffusion of purple. 
 " Is the kid yours, or mine? If it's yours, there it is, 
 take it ; if it ain't yours, wot bloomin' right have 
 you to be stickin' in yer tongue an' jawin' me ? " 
 
 Jenny involuntarily stepped forward to intervene, 
 but remembering herself in the nick of time stepped 
 back again in a flutter at her own audacity. Her 
 lord would have knocked her senseless had she 
 presumed to interfere. 
 
 Loo now sat on the bed silently watching ; fear and 
 wonder in her wide, wet eyes. She was already 
 trained to keep still when her father desired to have 
 all the attention to himself. Tapley pretended to be 
 lost in admiration. 
 
 " I say, Goodman," he cried, as if wakening from 
 a reverie, " what a pretty child ! And she's your 
 image, your very image." 
 
 " Tottie, you glue your gob," was the reply. " I 
 ain't denied she's mine as I knows on, an' wot I want 
 to know is, why he," jerking a thumb at Vincent, 
 " comes here an' insults me? " 
 
 " I assure you nothing was farther from my mind 
 than to insult you," put in Vincent quickly. 
 
 " But you done it all the same," responded Good- 
 man, getting hotter as he perceived the righteousness 
 of his cause. " You done it. An', by Gawd, ye
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 51 
 
 oughter be chucked out'n a five-storey window," he 
 pursued, flaring up. " Ye oughter be chucked ; a-nosin' 
 arter honest men's wives. The Thames is the place 
 for you." 
 
 He drew himself up in the middle of the floor, his 
 legs apart, his head thrown back, and looked down 
 on Vincent who seemed, in contrast, miserably weak 
 and insignificant. 
 
 " The Thames, an' twenty pound of lead at yer 'eels, 
 that's the thing for you — an' take care as ye don't 
 'ave it." 
 
 Thereupon he turned to his wife. 
 
 "Jen, them swells is arter you. Look at 'em ; ain't 
 ye proud of 'em ? Ain't they a credit to one as 
 preaches at her 'usband, an' sings 'bout the wings 
 of a dove an' flyin' away ? Ain't ye wild at the idear 
 of takin' up along of sich toffs?" 
 
 He surveyed the three malignantly. 
 
 " Gawd alive, ain't ye pretty ? " he went on in the 
 tone of one who has discovered an abominable in- 
 trigue. " Thought I was luny, or, maybe too boozed 
 to twig. I should be a-doin' my dooty in knockin' 
 spots out'n the lot of ye." 
 
 Not daring to question her outraged husband, 
 Jenny turned in despair to Vincent, whom she recog- 
 nised, though hiding the fact. 
 
 " Oh, sir, what does this mean ? " she asked, acute 
 terror working in every feature of her face. Mr. 
 Goodman himself hastened to enlighten her. 
 
 "I'll tell you wot it means," he said, in a thick, 
 alcoholic voice. He took Vincent's silver from his 
 pocket, spread it elaborately on his palm, and held it 
 out to her. 
 
 " That's wot it means," he added, gloating over her 
 evident distress. " A fistful of silver — the price of 
 you. That's 'ow toffs does business. Lor', there's a 
 fortin' in ye if ye'd just keep yer blinkers dry an' look
 
 S2 Mine on the %cc6 
 
 'appy, 'peck an' lush, hot an' reg'lar, an' no questions 
 arsked." 
 
 At the beginning of this speech Tapley had slipped 
 out, put half a crown into the litttle girl's hand and 
 despatched her round the corner for beer. He re- 
 turned jubilantly carrying a huge jug. 
 
 " Dry work arranging these family matters," he 
 observed, as if speaking to himself. 
 
 Goodman turned, and his eye caught sight of the 
 familiar and enticing froth. 
 
 " A drink, old man ? " enquired Tapley. 
 
 Goodman clutched at the jug, and the next moment 
 was gulping as if for a wager. While he cooled him- 
 self Vincent managed to deliver a message from his 
 mother to Jenny. Catching the tail of a sentence 
 Dick lifted his head with a challenge. 
 
 " Eh, wot's that ? " he cried, spluttering and panting. 
 
 " Good beer," said Tapley. 
 
 " Mighty cute, Tottie," rejoined Dick ; "but ye shan't 
 have her — ye shan't 'ave her— not s' long's a fist's 
 left on me to bash " 
 
 The truculency of spirit was in no wise abated, but 
 Tapley's practised eye noted a swift decline in bodily 
 power. Not all Dick's ferocity could fend the lapping 
 stupor of big draughts and unaccustomed feeding. 
 His tongue slid thickly in his mouth, he was beginning 
 to hiccough, and a solemn idiocy took possession of 
 his countenance. Tapley and Vincent exchanged 
 meaning looks, and, with hurried apologies and expres- 
 sions of goodwill, retired.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 AS the door closed behind them Dick, roHing his 
 head and hiccoughing, leered fatuously at his 
 wife. She knew the symptom and, by pretending 
 to fathom the joke he must have somewhere among 
 the clouds of his mind, induced him to lie down. 
 Hardly was his head on the pillow when he was 
 snoring might and main. At that grateful sound 
 Jenny whipped out Loo to the landlady, begging, 
 as a particular favour, that the two children might 
 be allowed to play together for an hour or so. The 
 excuse offered for being troublesome was the call 
 to go out upon an urgent errand. Then, hastening 
 back to her own room, she began with eager and 
 tremulous fingers to make herself fit to appear at 
 the great house. Little toilet she had to make, but 
 that tremour of the hand hindered her sadly. ^ Her 
 head, too, swam in a tumult of nameless emotion ; 
 for the past was knocking at her heart, making it 
 flutter and beat cruelly. As if in a di'eam of the 
 night her old self rose before her. She saw a fair 
 young face in a mirror, its owner turning this way 
 and that, twisting and looking over her shoulder 
 lest so much as a strand of hair should be out of 
 place or a ribbon knot awry. Gracious God, what 
 were ribbons now ! It was bread she had to think 
 of, bare bread for her famishing child. Often and 
 often in the times gone by she had adorned herself 
 in that very room, and, fresh as the bud at her 
 
 53
 
 54 Mine on tbe %cc5 
 
 breast, had gone forth to incite rivalry among the 
 lads of vSt. Edmund. And there stood one by who 
 never failed to remark how well she looked. What 
 would that mother say to this tagging of rags ? God 
 be merciful to unfortunate women ! Who would 
 now give a word of admiration, who so much as a 
 kindly look ? 
 
 Tears dimmed her eyes, making it necessary to 
 wash her face a second time. With a smart rebuke 
 she told herself she must be strong. This weakness 
 disfigured her, and, besides, was waste of time. Dick 
 
 might wake before she got back, and if he did 
 
 She shut her eyes, shuddering. A movement on the 
 bed made her start. Her nerves were quivering. 
 She felt as if a fatal sickness were coming upon her. 
 This return to her native place instead of bracing, 
 as she hoped it would, only broke her down. She 
 must get away again ; yes, yes, she must get away. 
 The place was full of ghosts. 
 
 Then she began to wonder what Lady Twickham 
 wanted with her, and, wondering, found her scant 
 toilet complete. With a look to see that Dick slept 
 comfortably she hurried out, closing the door very 
 softly. 
 
 Outside, the brisk April air freshened her, and she 
 walked with a quick step, the need of haste being 
 vividly in her mind. It was reckoned half-an-hour's 
 walk to Twickham Towers, although by extra exer- 
 tion she might reduce the time to twenty minutes. 
 But the old strength was gone ; she was soon breathing 
 hard, and presently was forced to pause, a hand 
 pressed against her palpitating side. A sudden pain 
 in the heart made her blench. If she were taken 
 away what would become of little Loo ? who look 
 after Dick ? A cold sweat broke on her at the 
 thought of leaving them, for both needed her care, 
 the one as much as the other.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 55 
 
 Her breath returning, she went on again, with 
 lowered face, quaking for fear of being recognised. 
 But though she knew many, none saw pretty Jenny 
 Jenks in the forlorn, poverty-stricken woman who. 
 hurried by as if dreading contact with her kind. 
 Most of the town veterans whom she met were not a 
 jot changed. As a child she had known them every 
 one, and lo ! here she was among them again and 
 not a countenance lit in welcome or pleasure at 
 seeing her. " Best so, best so," she told herself, with 
 the chill of desolation at her vitals. Let her be 
 to them an utter stranger ; let her name and memory 
 be blotted out. She would see Lady Twickham, 
 and fly the way she came. London would hide 
 her ; London would give no heed to her shame. In 
 London she could be miserable without notice ; for 
 London is hardened to the sight of calamity and 
 wretchedness. 
 
 Coming to a turn-stile which led to the cemetery, 
 she swerved as if to pass through, but instantly was 
 back in the road again. No, she could not trust 
 herself there. Let father and mother sleep in peace, 
 if it pleased God, in happy ignorance of her lot. A 
 few minutes later she stood by the sculptured pillars 
 at the main entrance to Twickham Towers. Awed 
 and faint, she looked up at the griffins surmounting 
 them and at the richly-wrought iron gate swung 
 between. A thousand times she had passed through 
 that gate with light step and bounding heart ; now 
 it oppressed her with a kind of shivering horror. 
 Unconsciously she walked past along the high-road, 
 a vague resolution to run away working upon her. 
 But, thinking of her baby girl and her husband, she 
 wheeled and entered, a sort of burning determination 
 hurrying her to the meeting she dreaded. 
 
 Passing the lodge unobserved, she ran up the 
 avenue under the elms like a culprit fleeing from
 
 56 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 justice. The thought of encountering old servants 
 began to trouble her ; but, on reaching the rear of the 
 mansion, she was relieved to find none whom she 
 knew. A pert maid who was flirting with a groom 
 asked her saucily what she wanted. When she 
 answered that she had come to see Lady Twickham, 
 the pert maid laughed ironically, remarking, " How 
 good of you ! but Lady Twickham don't see beggars." 
 
 The blood rushed to Jenny's face. 
 
 " I am not a beggar," she said, wounded pride 
 coming to her aid. " And if Lady Twickham is told 
 that Mrs. Goodman is here, I think she will see me." 
 
 With a meaning look at the groom the maid went 
 off, tossing her head, but returned more meekly to 
 deliver the visitor to another servant, who, in turn, 
 handed her over to a magnificent creature in livery, 
 whose stare was a triumph of insolent contempt. 
 
 " My lady is in her budoor," said the godlike. 
 " Poller me." 
 
 On entering the presence, it took all Jenny's 
 power of will to keep from swooning. As it was, the 
 air was dim and the room unsteady. Lady Twickham 
 lay in a gorgeous easy-chair, lapped in cushions and 
 laces. A volume of sermons by the Rev. Josiah 
 Tinkle, D.D., Lord Bishop of Blockley, lay face down 
 on her lap. She had been enjoying a homily on 
 " The Perfection of the Human Spirit," done in the 
 best drawing-room style, and proving beyond question 
 that the kingdom of Heaven is exclusively for the 
 refined and the cultured. Her manner towards her 
 visitor was subdued, but kind, the manner of the 
 valetudinarian on whom the doctors sit heavily. 
 Rustling gently among her silks and laces, she mur- 
 mured a welcome, bidding Jenny be seated. Then, 
 adjusting her gold lorgnette, she surveyed her old 
 servant with some deliberation. A burning glass 
 seemed to have been turned on the unhappy Jenny ;
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 57 
 
 she felt scorched through and through, and sat quiver- 
 ing. At length the sad, languid voice began to ask 
 questions. 
 
 " I shouldn't have known you," it said after some 
 preliminaries. " You are greatly altered ; it grieves 
 me to see you looking so ill. You have been living 
 in London ? 
 
 " Yes, my lady." 
 
 " And it does not agree with you ? " came plain- 
 tively, 
 
 " No, my lady ; at least, not very well." 
 
 Jenny was wringing her fingers and fighting the 
 tears. Lady Twickham, laying aside the homily on 
 " The Perfection of the Human Spirit," sat up, the 
 better to see her visitor. 
 
 " Lord Twickham told us at luncheon of your 
 unpleasant experience in court this morning," she 
 went on. " An unhappy marriage ? " 
 
 " Oh no, my lady," blurted Jenny, shame and con- 
 fusion hot in her face. " Leastways, not generally, my 
 lady. The drop o' drink do upset Dick. But he don't 
 behave like some 'usbands. No — my lady ; and — 
 and he's good when he's sober — yes, my lady." 
 
 But in the attempt to controvert the too palpable 
 evidence of Dick's delinquencies, Jenny broke down. 
 Lady Twickham had no nerve for " scenes," and, 
 shaken by Jenny's pitiful sobbing, was herself nearly 
 overcome. To avert a catastrophe, she kept repeating, 
 " Poor child, poor child. There, there, you'll be better 
 in a moment — there, you'll be better in a moment." 
 
 When the paroxysm was past and Jenny was wiping 
 her eyes and trying to apologise, Lady Twickham 
 touched a bell. A minute later her maid appeared 
 and was instructed to ask the functionary in gorgeous 
 raiment for a glass of port. When it was brought. 
 Lady Twickham had it set on a table beside her. 
 Then at a nod the maid vanished.
 
 58 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 "You'll take this," said my lady soothingly. "It 
 will help you." 
 
 Jenny's impulse was to decline, but what she said 
 was, " Thank you, my lady," and, scarcely knowing 
 what she was about, emptied the glass. Instantly she 
 was aghast with a sense of bad manners, but the 
 motherly voice of Lady Twickham reassured her. 
 
 " Yes, that's right — that will help you," she said. 
 
 Already Jenny felt a comforting warmth, and a 
 minute later had a light head, for, beyond a dry crust 
 early in the morning, she had eaten nothing that day. 
 
 " Now," she thought in dismay, " I shall make a 
 fool of myself, and her ladyship will think I drink, 
 too." But the lightness passed off without any 
 symptom of foolishness. 
 
 The conversation turned pointedly on her life in 
 London ; and Jenny, after sore hesitation for Dick's 
 sake, told a woeful tale. 
 
 " Oh, my lady ! " she cried, the tears coming afresh, 
 " you can never understand what it is to be poor and 
 live in the East-end of London. My lady, you say it 
 is horrible — it's worse, it's worse ! " 
 
 " You'll make yourself ill," said Lady Twickham in 
 alarm. " You'll positively make yourself ill." 
 
 Feeling herself choking, Jenny dried her eyes. 
 
 " Your husband perhaps ill-treats you," suggested 
 Lady Twickham. That gave Jenny back her tongue. 
 
 " Oh! no," she answered quickly. " Leastways, not 
 
 always — but — but Oh, my lady, it's the women, 
 
 it's them as kills me ! It's from them I ran away. 
 And I thought if Dick and me was to come back 
 to St. Edmund we could find work and be happy. 
 And now it's worse than ever." 
 
 In spite of her languor. Lady Twickham was a 
 woman of penetration. Understanding Jenny's case, 
 she forbore to pursue the line of questioning. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I know how you are disappointed
 
 Wine on the %cc5 59 
 
 in coming back to your native place. I daresay your 
 husband wants to return to London." 
 
 "Yes, my lady. But we'll go to another part, 
 away from the horrible women. We'll begin again, 
 my lady, we'll begin again." 
 
 T.ady Twickham quietly produced her purse. 
 
 " You'll take this from me," she said, holding out 
 some pieces of gold. " There, don't trouble about 
 thanks. I'm interested in you because I found you 
 a good servant and I think you are a good wife. 
 You'll go back with your husband, of course. The 
 woman must stick to the man — so much I understand. 
 Ah ! it's a strange world ! When you know it you'll 
 give me your address, and when I'm in London I'll 
 call to see you. There, now — there ! " 
 
 Jenny was on her knees, sobbing out her heart and 
 kissins: the hand of her benefactress.
 
 Book II 
 
 6x
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 JENNY might propose, but Dick took excellent 
 care to dispose. So they returned to the precise 
 rookery in London, whence Jenny had fled with the 
 wistful hope of a new life in the country at her sunk 
 and aching heart. She made a fervid appeal for 
 a change of locality. It was best, she made haste to 
 own, it was best to return to London where alone 
 Dick felt at home and in his element. As an experi- 
 ment in domestic economy the flight to sunshine and 
 green lanes was a dismal failure. She was now as 
 vehemently eager to fly from the scent of budding 
 woods and hedges, and the songs of birds and winds 
 and running waters, as she had been to get away 
 from the foul odours and fouler deeds and words of 
 the Paradise of her dreams. So much she told Dick 
 with chokings of heart. But could they not choose 
 a new quarter where the brutishness of the people 
 would not be a constant threat and terror? Dick 
 was too strong to understand the feelings of a poor 
 weak woman, but he loved her — she knew he loved 
 her, and he might do this little thing for her sake. 
 Perhaps, too, and here she could not help shivering 
 at her own temerity ; perhaps, too, it would be better 
 for Dick himself to be away from his old companions. 
 She did not plead for herself ; she was ready to face 
 anything with him, but would he not think of little 
 Loo? They three, father, mother, and child might 
 begin life anew, and cling together and be happy. 
 
 63
 
 64 "Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 Let them cast the past from them, let them begin 
 again, and God would help them. Wouldn't Dick 
 do this ? " she asked, tears of appeal shining in her 
 eyes. 
 
 Dick scrutinised her for a moment, a smile, not of 
 sympathy, on his purple face. 
 
 " Jen — ye should 'a' been a parson," he said. " Best 
 sermon I've heard since listenin' to the old Scotch 
 chaplain bummin' 'bout 'ell fire. I have just one 
 remark to make, an' it's this — a woman don't look 
 well in her 'usband's breeches. Chuck 'em." 
 
 Jenny gazed at him an instant blankly — then turned 
 away, speechless, wounded where wounds are incur- 
 able. As obediently as a whipped slave, she returned 
 to the jeers and affronts which had so often made 
 her wish the solid street would open and swallow her. 
 The men she could make shift to endure, in spite of 
 their lawlessness and blasphemy ; but the women — 
 it made her sick and giddy to think of the persecution 
 she suffered because she had her own ideas of 
 decency. 
 
 " You jest do like yer neighbours, my dear," a gin- 
 soaked crone had said to her early in her career. 
 "You jest take wot ye can get, an' no bones 'bout it, 
 an' ye'll live 'appier, my dear. 'Tain't no use puttin' 
 on fine airs, an' a-purtendin' as yer better'n others. 
 Don't pay," and the ancient sinner grinned and 
 winked knowingly. 
 
 Stung by the senile depravity, Jenny gave a 
 sharp answer. The old crone promptly showed her 
 teeth. 
 
 "Oh ! you go 'long," she hissed, " nice bit o' muslin 
 you are ! Shop-soiled ain't the word. You a-pur- 
 tendin' ! Ugh ! You ain't no good, 'cept for wallopin'. 
 'Ope some bloke '11 bash yer 'ead in." And she went 
 off mouthing and breathing elements of blue flame. 
 
 Jenny knew the hobbling, venomous creature was
 
 TlUline on tbe Xees 65 
 
 a grandmother ; and in morality her daughter was 
 like unto her, and her daughter's daughter, save that 
 the younger generation played the game in better 
 style. The old woman instantly undertook a 
 missionary tour through Paradise Court, spreading 
 news of Jenny's airs and pretensions, and from that 
 moment the young wife's fate was sealed. Thence- 
 forward she was the chosen butt of dames and 
 damsels who took " Wot they got," with relish, 
 and searing irons are nothing to their derision and 
 abuse. 
 
 To be sure Dick was at pains to school her in local 
 ways and manners. It no longer paralysed her to 
 come upon groups of muscular sluts whooping and 
 clawing each other's faces, tearing rags from grimy 
 shoulders and dancing jigs on them in the gutter. 
 Marks of death on stair and pavement ceased to make 
 her sick. Even when in great orgies wives tucked 
 and bled over their fallen men she did not swoon or 
 feel faint. Once, indeed, during the process of educa- 
 tion her nerve failed her sadly. The misfortune befell 
 one night when she was out among the small fry of 
 belated costers foraging, with a threepenny bit, for 
 Dick's supper. At a street corner a furious noise of 
 scuffling arrested her. As she turned to look what 
 the fray might be, a knife flashed redly in the glare of 
 a naphtha torch. For the tenth part of a second all 
 seemed hushed ; then went up a frantic, piercing cry 
 of" Murder!" A policeman was down. Above the 
 hoarse roar of the startled multitude she heard vicious 
 shouts of " Boot him ! Boot him!" Almost at her feet 
 a human wave rose and surged wildly forward, over- 
 turning and smashing stall and barrow. With a 
 screech she wheeled about and ran home, laughing 
 maniacally, the threepenny bit locked fast in her hand. 
 
 " Murder," she gasped, in reply to Dick's question. 
 " Policeman down — stabbed — killed ! '
 
 66 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 Thereupon he admonished her. 
 
 " Makin' a bloomin' row 'bout a stuck copper," he 
 said indignantly. " Off, an' get me fried fish an' 'alf 
 a pint." 
 
 Thereafter she never yielded to hysteria. 
 
 But the thought of her persecutors gave her a secret 
 ague ; and she was returning to them without option. 
 
 For when Dick discovered, after some hedging on 
 Jenny's part, which nearly won her the marital badge 
 of a black eye, how his virtues had opened to him a 
 charitable gold mine he instantly made arrangements 
 for firing the envy of old associates. He knew as 
 well as if the fact stared him on every hoarding that 
 he was regarded as a person who, for reasons un- 
 divulged, had found it expedient to "clear out." An 
 artist in sensation he chuckled over the mode of retort. 
 
 " You just milk the old cow," was his injunction to 
 Jenny. " See you milk her proper, too — and I'll 
 attend to the rest." 
 
 " The old cow " was Mr. Goodman's delicate way of 
 alluding to Lady Twickham. 
 
 His vanity was gratified by the eager curiosity of 
 friends. Where had he been ? What had he been 
 about? since taking himself off unbeknown to his 
 dearest pal. The sly dog was up to some fine game. 
 He answered innocently that he had taken a run into 
 the country with his family. 
 
 " Kids must have fresh air," he added, with un- 
 moved countenance, " an' women ain't none the worse 
 of it." 
 
 Had he been an ordinary man the response would 
 have been a derisive guffaw. As none had nerve or 
 muscle enough to risk a laugh or refer to swag, the 
 general incredulity was deftly veiled in remarks on 
 the " bleedin' " luck of some people. 
 
 It pleased him to receive these expressions 
 graciously ; and when he had been envied to the top
 
 Mine on tbe Xecs 67 
 
 of his bent he gallantly led the way to the Bear and 
 Cubs> a noted public-house sacred to Twickham's ale 
 and MacTor's Scotch whiskey. By day a huge sign 
 set forth the unequalled merits of the one, and by 
 night the virtues of the other were brilliantly illu- 
 minated in white and red. 
 
 Entering with the easy air of the habitue Dick 
 advanced to the head of the bar, affably greeting, 
 first the barmaid and then the landlord, Mr. VVragg, 
 who was busy among crystals and mellow, odorous 
 casks. 
 
 He was a big, heavy-boned, black-browcd man who 
 might be Dick's match in a tussle, one would have 
 said, but for an undue rotundity, which suggested 
 diminished wind, and a flabbiness of face which 
 meant degenerated muscle. In his prime he had 
 been the terror of the disorderly, and for that and 
 other good reasons was put by Messrs. Twickham 
 into their tied-house the Bear and Cubs. From that 
 happy day he knew prosperity as a boon companion, 
 with the result that he had now, in addition to one 
 of the best public-houses in East London, diamond 
 studs for his shirt, diamond rings for his fat fingers, 
 a name on the turf, a fast horse, and a flash wife. 
 Multitudes of flourishing men envied Mr. Wragg, 
 and multitudes more were proud to call him friend. 
 
 Dick sniffed the delicious fragrance of the place 
 as the war-horse sniffs battle. He felt exhilarated, 
 his pulses beat a bounding measure. This was life 
 as it should be — troops of friends and hogsheads of 
 liquor. 
 
 " Mr. VVragg," he cried, " I ain't seen ye since my 
 'oliday. Glad to be back, I tell ye. Wot's }'er 
 tipple?" 
 
 Mr. Wragg declared he had been drinking healths 
 all day ; the conviviality of his patrons was really 
 becoming too much for him.
 
 68 Mine on tbe %ccb 
 
 " Might 'ave worse things to complain of," rejoined 
 Dick, whereat the company laughed knowingly, 
 " Don't matter if ye couldn't bite a finger," he went 
 on, planking down half a crown, " yer goin' to have 
 a wet with me." And Mr. VVragg, overcome by the 
 sight of the coin from so dubious a customer, named 
 his drink. 
 
 The conversation took a surprising turn. For 
 of the great expedition to the country Dick gave 
 a wondrous and ravishing account. Tapley, " a 
 game cock, he could tell them," was mentioned as 
 a bosom friend and brother sportsman, and Vincent 
 Twickham was described as "a right down good 
 sort ; no airs, and free of his cash," ended Dick. 
 The company drew a long breath of excitement 
 and admiration. Dick had been doing it, and no 
 mistake. 
 
 " 'Stonishin ' ! " murmured Wragg, and ordered the 
 glasses to be replenished. At that sign of grace 
 the most incredulous believed the amazing narrative. 
 Dick on his part was mightily stimulated. 
 
 " Ye should have seed us dinin' together like three 
 lords ! " he cried, his eyes bright with elation. " Three 
 bloomin' peers o' the realm. Me 'ere, Tottie, that's 
 Tapley, there, an' Twickham round 'ere. 'Eavens ! 
 don't talk to me of drink and victuals. Ye don't 
 know nothin' about 'em." 
 
 It was added that he had arranged to meet Tapley 
 and Twickham in London, and possibly, — he wouldn't 
 promise, knowing that lords and toffs are fickle, — but 
 possibly there might be introductions. Then — well, 
 they could picture the rest for, themselves. As for 
 himself, he declared over the third glass he was 
 staunch for old friends.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 DICK lost no time in calling on Tommy Binks 
 at the Ruggler Den. The visit was one of 
 ceremony and meant to be impressive ; for there 
 had sprung up a coolness between the two, due, so 
 far as Dick was concerned, to that frequent defect 
 of good men — a temporary lack of cash, Binks had 
 been insulting over the matter. High words passed, 
 and some hastily laid bets, forgetting in their ardour 
 for sport how masters of the noble art respect each 
 other. There was no bloodshed ; but the coolness 
 was decided — with a tendency to disdain on the 
 part of Mr. Binks. Wherefore it was necessary to 
 confound him. 
 
 Dick dressed with elaborate care. His boots shone 
 like mirrors, his neckerchief had the ineffable touch 
 of the man of taste, and in his vest pocket were 
 arranged, with a fine suggestion of affluence, half 
 a dozen of Tapley's cigars. His toilet satisfactorily 
 accomplished, he descended upon Jenny for cash, and 
 she submissively gave what she had. Part of it was 
 the remains of Lady Twickham's charity ; but most 
 of it was the reward of sore toil, for Jenny chared 
 and washed indefatigably. Dick expressed disgust 
 with his allowance, giving an admonition likely to 
 strike a wife with terror. If she meant to keep a 
 husband she must show a little more resource in 
 raising the wind. He wasn't going to stand this 
 barrenness much longer, 
 
 69
 
 70 Mine on tbe Xces 
 
 " It's all I've got, Dick," she said, thinking woefully 
 of the manner in which Lady Twickham's charity 
 was going. " It's every penny — and I was anxious 
 to get Loo something out of it. She's — look at her, 
 Dick — a shame to be seen on the stair — not to speak 
 of being cold — an' — an' the rent's due. We don't 
 want to be turned into the street again, do we, 
 Dick?" 
 
 At sound of her name Loo had lifted her wan 
 face and looked at both parents with preternaturally 
 big eyes, then solemnly resumed operations on a 
 bare mutton bone. She was content to be naked 
 so long as she had something to eat. Dick took the 
 air of the ill-used husband. Could he never have 
 a moment's peace or pleasure ? What was the fuss 
 about? Didn't the dispensary doctor recommend 
 fresh air for Loo, and wouldn't she get it all the better 
 for being lightly clad ? As for the rent-collector, 
 Dick would kick him downstairs if he showed his 
 phiz for a month to come. These sentiments duly 
 impressed on his wife, he renewed his demand for 
 more money ; and Jenny, being unable to coin bare 
 walls, was told what her husband thought of her 
 abilities. She didn't deserve a man, she didn't ; and 
 s'elp him. Gawd, she'd mend, or he'd take up 'long 
 of some other woman who could forage to more 
 purpose ! Jenny quivered as if struck to the heart, 
 which indeed she was. A beating she could take 
 like any other wife ; but to be superseded — cast aside 
 for another — the asylum or the mortuary were 
 better than that. 
 
 As Dick adjusted his cap, grimacing at the frame- 
 less mirror stuck against the wall, she timidly enquired 
 where he was going and when she might expect 
 him back. He answered that he wouldn't burden 
 her limited faculties with his affairs, but that he 
 wanted fried fish and hot potatoes for supper. The
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 71 
 
 Billingsgate chicken "•' her thoughtfuhiess had pro- 
 vided she could have for herself. With which 
 intimation he strode away, banging the door behind 
 him. 
 
 Coming forth on a reeking court, in which a single 
 gas lamp made the gloom dismally visible, he passed 
 clusters of squalid humanity lounging about doors 
 for a whiff of such air as cent, per cent, landlords 
 and sanitary authorities vouchsafe. He flung them 
 a lofty " good-night," and they sang after him, 
 enquiring when he had come into his estate. Com- 
 ments and speculations were prudently deferred till 
 he was out of earshot. Not that his critics were 
 censorious ; but they knew he was " flush," and had 
 their own explanations. They noted that he rather 
 .sought than avoided the police ; but that was wiliness, 
 pure wiliness ; for Dick could break the ten com- 
 mandments and sidle innocently up to a copper, 
 asking if anything were wrong. 
 
 From the hum of the court he passed to the 
 clamorous'tumult of the street, feeling that for a man 
 who relishes existence London is the place. It was 
 Saturday night, and the East End was marketing. 
 On pavement and roadway seethed and surged the 
 rank lees of half the nations of the earth — eagle- 
 beaked, many-hatted Hebrews, greasy, black-bearded 
 Poles, crafty-eyed Italians, gesticulating French, 
 stodgy Germans, with a sprinkling of Turks, Lascars, 
 and niggers. For the grubbing foreigner Dick had 
 the contempt of a true-born Briton. But he enjoyed 
 the sense of exuberant life in the strident and varie- 
 gated crowd. Even the thousand dissonances of 
 rival stall-keepers, pressing their wares on passers-by 
 at ruinously low prices, were not disagreeable. 
 
 Pausing under a lamp-post he lighted a cigar, and 
 leisurely noted particular incidents in the roaring 
 * Red herring.
 
 72 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 fair. Immediately in front of him a hot-potato man 
 and the driver of a dray were exchanging civilities, 
 to the merriment of a knot of youths, who encouraged 
 them with boisterous chaff. Close by, a tipsy kipper 
 vendor carried on a double argument with his wife 
 and ass. The poor fellow seemed to be getting the 
 worst of it, but he vowed by the 'Eavens above to 
 take it out of them both a little later. Further on, a 
 bear was balancing a pole to the chanting of an 
 Italian air ; and a compatriot of the bear-master ground 
 music out of a hurdy-gurdy to a bevy of girls render- 
 ing the latest skirt dance. Finally, two boys in blue 
 passed along, conducting a lady of ultra-convivial 
 habits to a night's free lodging. As she protested 
 with the full vigour of mind and body, she had an 
 interested audience, who followed with a running 
 commentary on the performance. These things 
 amused Mr. Goodman. 
 
 " A dam funny world ! " he said to himself ; and 
 took his way westward, smoking complacently. 
 
 Finding the Bear and Cubs extraordinarily inviting 
 he looked in, saluting the great Wragg with easy 
 familiarity. Mr. Wragg returned the greeting with 
 marked civility, and half the company suspended their 
 jabber to stare at Dick. For the tale of his adven- 
 tures having gone abroad, as he knew it would, a 
 halo of romance was about him. He had just one 
 glass of ale with the landlord, which he tumbled off 
 with the remark that, after all, there was nothing to 
 beat Twickham. Mr. Wragg responded that he 
 found himself " remarkably well on Twickham, as did 
 his customers likewise." Twickham was more popular 
 than ever ; Twickham, in fact, was going like steam. 
 " An' I must say," continued Mr. Wragg, " as MacTor's 
 Scotch whiskey is comin' to the front. MacTor knows 
 how to spend money — that's the secret. Ha, ha ! 
 knowing old dog, MacTor ! Great for the ladies. Bar-
 
 ■CCline on tbe Xces 73 
 
 maids' balls done tip-top style ; presents all round ; 
 diamond rings for the missis an' silk dresses for the 
 girl behind the bar : that's good enough," and 
 Mr. VVragg grinned, looking exceedingly wise. 
 
 Mr. Goodman expressed himself gratified by the 
 tidings, and with a condescending " S'long all," 
 pursued his journey, musing upon many things. 
 
 The Ruggler Den, whither he was bound, lay 
 cosily under the protection of the Law, as repre- 
 sented by Lincoln's Inn Fields and the Royal Courts 
 of Justice. Its career had been chequered since the 
 malice of the police and the spirit of improvement 
 cleared it out of Seven Dials. It had steered a round- 
 about course by Drury Lane, the Mint, Commercial 
 Street, and Clerkenwell, till it found settlement in the 
 purlieus of Clare Market. There, under the shelter- 
 ing eaves of the Law, it felt comfortable. Its 
 directing spirit — its patron saint, one might say — was 
 Mr. Thomas Binks, a gentleman whose talent and 
 unique knowledge would have been invaluable to 
 Scotland Yard. Had Mr. Binks been made Com- 
 missioner of Police, or even head detective, the 
 world would have seen a fine revolution in criminal 
 procedure. What the Law lost, the Ruggler Den 
 gained. Untold gold would not have induced a 
 constable to intrude upon its charmed circle. The 
 approach was such as would have pleased the leader 
 of the immortal Forty, had Providence cast his lot in 
 London. You went round the corner of the Baited 
 Bull, a down-at-heel public-house, redolent of crime, 
 into a court that was like a pit ; then up a stair, and 
 along passages, intricate as a rabbit-warren, and 
 awful with suggestions of ambushes and trap-doors, 
 till you came to a collection of spittoons embedded 
 in sawdust. Below the solitary window of this inner 
 sanctuary was a yard into which you could drop in 
 case of emergency. This yard had, in fact, witnessed
 
 74 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 scenes of which Christian England never heard — 
 because such things might shock the devout people, 
 who fondly believe that the heathen live somewhere 
 beyond seas, and subscribe liberally to have them 
 converted. Once, in the old Seven Dial days, the 
 Ruggler had been raided. Shortly afterwards, the 
 leader of the expedition came to an untimely end. A 
 Coroner's jury, having viewed the body and heard 
 the evidence, found that the deceased had un- 
 doubtedly died an unnatural death, and left the 
 matter to the dead man's comrades. Mr. Binks, 
 watching the funeral cortege, hoped that such might 
 be the fate of all interlopers ; but expressed pity at 
 the evident grief of the widow. 
 
 " Didn't think she'd 'ave took it so much to 'art," 
 he said. 
 
 At Dick's " Open Sesame ! " all the doors flew wide, 
 and, without let or hindrance, he advanced straight 
 upon the high-priest himself. That meeting is still 
 remembered. Mr. Binks, who was seated on an 
 empty soap-box set on end, rose impresssively at 
 Mr. Goodman's entrance. A deep hush fell on the 
 room ; the two looked at each other ; then Mr. Binks 
 held out a hand which Mr. Goodman took and wrung 
 like a brother. 
 
 " Ain't bin scragged," said Tommy, smiling. 
 
 " 'Tweren't a scraggin' job," returned Dick, smiling 
 in turn. " Suck that," he added, holding out a cigar ; 
 " an' as we haven't met for some time," looking round 
 upon his fellow Rugglers, " wot's to be the wet ? " 
 
 Dick's luck was a matter of congratulation and 
 envy, but the discussion was briefer than he expected, 
 for more important business was on hand.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WITH the air of one unbottHng a sensation, Mr. 
 Binks took a piece of printed paper from his 
 pocket, carefully unfolded it, and handing it to Dick, 
 asked him to be good enough to read aloud. As the 
 feat was likely to prove troublesome, Dick passed it 
 on to a brother Ruggler, who was once a city clerk, 
 but for competent reasons had abruptly abandoned a 
 commercial career. This gentleman and scholar, 
 peering close to penetrate the dirt and grease con- 
 tracted in Mr. Binks's vest pocket, read once again 
 the intelligence which had that evening thrilled so 
 many manly hearts all over England. An event, 
 compared with which the fall of empires was nothing 
 (provided Britain were safe), was passing to a happy 
 consummation. Not to trifle. Tufty Slogget, the 
 American heavy-weight, was crossing the Atlantic to 
 fight Tom Crinch, the British hero, for a thousand 
 pounds a side and the glory of the championship. 
 
 " 'Ad it straight from Velvet Chick it's to be the 
 event of the century," said Mr. Binks gleefully. 
 " Swells 'owlin' mad. Every man as knows a fish 
 from a mutton pie's egsited an' lookin' out his spare 
 cash. Oh, you mark me, it's to be rippin', rippin', 
 that's wot it's to be ! " 
 
 " Who's managin' the show ? " asked Dick. 
 
 " Natrilly, the Royal Olympian," answered Binks. 
 " But everybody's in it, everybody as is anybody — 
 dooks an' hearls an' lords an' barynites — ye couldn't 
 
 75
 
 76 Mine on tbc %tC6 
 
 count 'em. Kemittee's a-dancin' on their 'eads. 
 Velvet Chick ses it'll beat anythink ever knowed in 
 the hannils of the ring, that's 'ow 'e puts it ; an' a 
 b'lieve 'e's 'bout right. Some -ses as Tom Crinch'll 
 make pulp o' t'other chap ; an' some ses as t'other 
 chap'U make pulp of Tom Crinch. Enyway, it'll 
 be a big thing. The money as'll be put on's in- 
 toxicatin' to think of, fair intoxicatin', that's wot I 
 calls it." 
 
 " An' the question afore the meetin's 'ow we're to 
 'ave a share," put in another Ruggler. 
 
 That was a point to be thought out, and to enable 
 them to think it out effectively Dick ordered a round 
 of Twickham. While they drank he seemed uncom- 
 monly thoughtful. 
 
 " Distinguished patrinige," he said, breaking the 
 silence. " Don't 'appen to know names ? " 
 
 " Well ! " replied Binks, " ye knows yerself wot the 
 Royal Olympian is." 
 
 " Aristocracy, the 'ole bloomin' lot ! " said Dick. 
 " But don't 'appen to 'ave names. Tapley, for 
 hexample, — Lord Tapley, son of old Wegron — a rare 
 old dicky-bird. Don't 'appen to know if he's in the 
 show ; or young Twickham — that's his pal, an' 
 sweet on his sister — goin' to splice, I hear — son of old 
 Bung — that's Twickham's ale as yer drinkin'. 'Appen 
 to know if they're in it ? " 
 
 " Tapley," repeated Binks. " B'lieve Velvet Chick 
 did mention 'im — yes, a b'lieve 'e did. A disre- 
 member Twickham." 
 
 " If Taplcy's there, Twickham's there," thought 
 Dick. " Wouldn't be fool enough to let the honey- 
 moon interfere." 
 
 And with that he devoted himself to the hospitality 
 of his brother Rugglers. He left them elated and 
 rather excited ; and elated and rather excited he 
 returned to the Bear and Cubs to discuss events with
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 77 
 
 Mr. VVragg. Wragg, who had just been reading the 
 momentous news in an evening paper, dilated volubly 
 on the prospects of the fight. In the throng that 
 filled the bar, there, was scarcely a man without 
 ambition as a " bruiser," nor a woman who did not 
 listen with intent ear. Sometimes a feminine voice 
 joined in the discussion. One stout lady, who had 
 reached the maudlin stage, shed tears over the 
 opportunities missed by her dead spouse. 
 
 " You knowed 'm, Mr. Wragg, dear," she said, taking 
 her gin neat. " You knowed Jim, sir, an' you'll bear 
 me hout as 'ow 'e could bruise. 'E bashed — but then 
 I won't tell no tales on the dead. An' you knows, 
 Mr. Wragg, I gave 'im a bootiful funri'l — plumes 
 an' mutes, an' never thought of egspense. Oh ! if 
 my Jim wur only 'ere this night " 
 
 And the good creature dissolved in tears, which 
 must have been pure old Tom. 
 
 Mr. Wragg owned that Jim had been a very fine 
 man in his day. 
 
 " Thank ye for that, Mr. Wragg, dear," sighed the 
 disconsolate, wiping her eyes. " Three pen'orth more, 
 sir, if you please. Mrs. Leary," turning to a companion, 
 whose bonnet was suspiciously askew — " Mrs. Leary, 
 another drop to 'eat ye. Me an' Mrs. Leary 'ave the 
 cramps bad sometimes, an' the drop o' gin do ease 
 'em, it do, indeed, sir. Mrs. Leary, she thinks Irish 
 whiskey's the thing " 
 
 Mrs. Leary rolled her head, putting her bonnet 
 further askew, and snickered. 
 
 " Oh ! ye needn't be a-denyin' on it, Mrs. Leary," 
 said the stout lady. " You 'ave said to me as 
 nuthin' outn' 'Eaven could be sweeter'n Dublin 
 whiskey, if it warn't Dublin stout ; but I ses to 'cr, 
 sir, ' Try the gin as ye gets at the Bear and Cubs,' ses 
 I. 'Ere Mrs. Leary, don't you be a-troublin' 'bout yer 
 man, my dear ; 'e's boozin' on 'is own 'ook — take
 
 78 Hdine on tbe Xees 
 
 that from me, 'e's boozin' on 'is own *ook, I knows 
 wot men be." 
 
 Remarking she was a woman of wisdom, Mr, 
 Wragg tacked for the original subject of conversation. 
 The fight was going to be the greatest thing of its 
 kind within the memory of living man. 
 
 " Of course, you'll be there ? " said Dick. 
 
 " Wot do you expect ? " demanded Mr. Wragg. 
 He went on to say it vv^as every man's dooty to 
 support grand old British sports ; and, though he 
 was rather out of practice himself, he'd like to see 
 the man who'd say the ring was not an ornament 
 to Society. A chorus of applause greeting him, he 
 proceeded to state that the best people in England, 
 which is to say, the best in the world, patronised the 
 ring. The nobility and aristocracy, from princes 
 down, were in it. 
 
 Dick observed that young Twickham was sure 
 to be at the Royal Olympian, and Mr. Wragg 
 responded proudly that young Twickham was a 
 sportsman, as his father was before him. " And is 
 now, thank Ga^\•d ! " added Mr. Wragg fervently. 
 
 The hour of closing came, and Dick reeled into 
 the street, shouting pasans in honour of Wragg. 
 His heart being merry within him he ran into a 
 policeman, singing " What the Henry Melville do 
 you think you're doing there ? " and instantly broke 
 into profuse apologies to the Law. "Just gettin' 
 'ome from a temp'rince meetin'," he explained, laughing 
 aloud, " an' I ain't used to it, guv'nor. S'elp me Bob!" 
 
 The Law warned him to mind " wot he was about," 
 and allowed him to proceed, drunks being too rife 
 on a Saturday night to be worth arresting, except 
 under extreme provocation. The next minute he 
 was pirouetting with a Hebrew gentleman, who 
 had a bag on his back and a dozen hats on his head, 
 one above another.
 
 TlCline on tbe Xees 79 
 
 " 'UUo, ole clo' ! " cried Dick hilariously, knocking 
 half of them off. "Ye oughter know as it ain't 
 becomin' for a son of Abra'm to go 'bout with 
 a steeple on 'is 'ead." 
 
 The Hebrew called for a constable ; but none 
 answering, he cursed his tormentor by the twelve 
 tribes of Israel and picked up his hats. Hardly 
 was Dick clear of the Jew when he was into a 
 meat-stall ; and there his frolic nearly ended in 
 disaster. But having still a trifle in his pocket, he 
 compromised matters by investing in a string of 
 sausages, which he hung gracefully about his neck. 
 
 " Lor' Mayor's chain," he said, grinning fearfully 
 in the face of the stall-keeper's wife. " All we wants 
 now, m'm, is turtle an' cham, an' lots of 'em. Lor' 
 Mayor's ticket is gorge an' swill ; an' we 'ave the 
 pleasure of payin', m'm, you an' me, an' his nabs 
 yer 'usband there, we 'ave the pleasure of payin' — 
 that's our share of the peck an' lush. There's suthin' 
 there as calls aloud for reform ; ain't there, m'm ? " 
 
 " There's suthin' 'ere as calls louder," replied the 
 woman, looking him over. " You go 'ome till yer 
 wife combs yer hair." 
 
 " I'm marchin' along, m'm," says Dick. " Glory 
 Alleluiah, marchin' along. Ta, ta." 
 
 From that point until he reached Paradise Court 
 he was the object of loud and varied attention, some 
 asking where he got the beautiful fur boa, and others 
 begging for a " sosige." One woman clung to him 
 so desperately that he was obliged to knock her down. 
 It might have been a police-court affair had she been 
 able to rise. As it was, she lay kicking till a constable 
 set her on her feet, demanding to be told what she 
 was making a row about. 
 
 " Knocked down," she hiccoughed. " Man — sosiges 
 — s'clp me Bob." 
 
 " Go on," retorted the constable, shaking her.
 
 8o Mine on tfte Xees 
 
 " Sosiges," she repeated — " sosiges," and went her 
 way, shouting. 
 
 By this time Dick was into Paradise Court and 
 toihng up the black stair. 
 
 " There, Jen," he cried, stumbling in on his wife, 
 " see wot I've brought you — sosiges, old gel, sosiges. 
 We ain't to be livin' no longer on cat's meat. 'Owlin' 
 Jericho, you've bin an' got fried fish ! Sosiges an' 
 fried fish." 
 
 " You said you wanted it," answered Jenny. 
 
 " Wanted it," repeated Dick. " Wot d'ye take me 
 for? 'Ere, let's tuck in, old gel. Ain't I a good 
 'usband? 'Ere, Jen, give me a kiss or ye'll forget 
 how. Never kiss yer own darlin' Dick now. Ain't 
 his breath as sweet as it uster be ? " 
 
 Jenny obediently kissed him, and his breath forced 
 from her the exclamation, " Oh ! Dick, been drinking 
 again ! " 
 
 " There ye go ! " cried Dick. " Sorry I arsked ye 
 to kiss me. Wot if I have been drinkin' ? Ain't my 
 mouth my own ? Ain't my throat my own ? Ain't 
 my stowin' box my own ? " 
 
 He regarded her as if considering whether she were 
 worth walloping. 
 
 " Times is changed," he pursued. " When you was 
 a-courtin' of me an' my lips tasted o' beer, ye'd say, 
 Dick, dear, when we're married ye'll not drink no 
 more, cos I'll cure ye of that bad 'abit. This is how 
 ye've cured me." 
 
 He laughed savagely. 
 
 " Ain't ye proud of yerself an' yer cure ? " he asked. 
 " Drink ! I'm only a-beginnin'." 
 
 She made no reply, but set out the fried fish and 
 hot potatoes. He began to cat like a famished 
 beast, muttering inarticulately between the mouthfuls. 
 Suddenly he called out, " Where's the kid — where's 
 Loo?"
 
 Mine on tbc Xecs si 
 
 " In bed, asleep," answered Jenny. 
 
 Dick turned to the rickety bed, pulled back the 
 ragged counterpane, and plucked out the child, who 
 first stared wildly and then whimpered. 
 
 "No 'owlin', Loo — no 'owlin'," said Dick. "It's a 
 feed, my gel — a feed from daddy." 
 
 He sat down, taking her on his knee, and began to 
 cram fish upon her. 
 
 She was eager enough to eat, God knows ; but 
 mouth and gullet were small. Wherefore Dick 
 crammed the more, until at last the child could neither 
 breathe nor chew. 
 
 " Get it down," cried Dick, pushing with a fork 
 handle, " get it down." 
 
 The struggling Loo was rapidly becoming black 
 in the face. 
 
 " She's choking ! Don't you see she's choking ? " 
 cried Jenny, her countenance wrung with terror. 
 " Dick, Dick, don't you see she's choking ? " 
 
 "Hold off," exclaimed Dick— " hold off ! Got to 
 go down." 
 
 "But she's choking, Dick. Oh! my baby's 
 choking." 
 
 " Got to go down," repeated Dick, pressing harder. 
 " A hundred times ye've told me she was starvin'. 
 She ain't starvin' now. It's got to go down." 
 
 Here the sounds of choking became so desperate 
 that Jenny attempted a rescue. That was the last 
 touch to Dick's drunken frenzy. Jerking Loo under 
 his left arm, which closed on her like a vice, he struck 
 out with his right, and Jenny went crashing among 
 broken utensils in a corner. Hearing the noise, the 
 people below remarked that the Goodmans were at 
 it again ; but they never thought of interfering. 
 They would hardly have interfered had red murder 
 been done. But something in the rigid outline of 
 his prostrate wife caused Dick himself to look at 
 
 6
 
 82 Mine on tbe %cc3 
 
 her curiously. Dropping Loo, he went to see why 
 she was not rising, prepared to remonstrate in a 
 convincing manner. The child, finding herself free, 
 dug out the fried fish with her fingers, and then lay 
 down, crying, beside her mother.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE natural impulse was to boot the perverse 
 woman, but something in the motionless form 
 made Dick think hurriedly of water, and he flung 
 out a pitcherful, mostly on the head of Loo, who 
 started up, shrieking. At that Jenny opened her 
 eyes very wide, and looked at him in a vacant, 
 uncomprehending stare. Thereupon he administered 
 a brisk shaking, telling her to get on her pins, and 
 look lively about it. With some assistance she rose, 
 tottering, for her head whirled as if on a swivel. 
 Then, recovering herself a little, she sat on the edge 
 of the bed to comfort the sobbing Loo. As she 
 quieted the child she pressed a hand to her heart ; 
 but no word of reproach passed her lips. It was 
 Dick who was reproachful. 
 
 " Wot made yc go off like that ? " he demanded 
 angrily. " Purtendin' ye were goin' to die out'n hand ! 
 Don't you try that dodge on again, 'cos I don't like 
 it, an" I ain't got no money to spend on bloomin' 
 fun'rils." 
 
 He was almost sober now, and sitting down by 
 the well-scrubbed deal table, finished his supper. 
 The eating done, he smoked one of Tapley's cigars, 
 watching Jenny out of the wreathing blue spirals, 
 in which he was an artist. The sight of her face 
 exasperated him. What a confounded dumb parade 
 of affliction, all for the trifle of being knocked down ! 
 Weren't other women knocked down ? and though 
 
 83
 
 84 Mine on tbe Xces 
 
 they scratched like cats, and even landed their 
 husbands in the police courts, did they draw these 
 long, woeful, accusing, imposed-on, aggravating faces ? 
 What Jenny needed was a little more knocking down, 
 and she had better not work on his feelings lest she 
 should have it — and suddenly. 
 
 Throwing away the cigar stub, it pleased him 
 presently to "turn in," and a minute later he was 
 snoring royally. Having tidied the room and put 
 things in order for the morning, Jenny lay down 
 beside him, weeping silently and pressing Loo to her 
 bosom. But when the child fell asleep she was 
 obliged to loosen her hold and lie off a little, because 
 of a suffocating pain at her heart. This was the 
 second time that pain had come upon her. Was 
 it death? Was she to be taken away? If so, 
 would the good God, the Father of the miserable and 
 the motherless, take care of little Loo ? She scarcely 
 dared to think so. In the old days, now so remote 
 and wonderful, viewed across the intervening gulf of 
 time, she had been taught that God was everywhere, 
 and that His love was even about the falling sparrow. 
 But alas ! alas ! how much to the contrary had she 
 not learned since ! She had seen men and women 
 die, not the death of beasts, for beasts die decently, 
 but the death of fiends, raging and obscene. And 
 she had seen them live. O God ! how had she 
 not seen them live ! She shuddered at the thought 
 of what was before her girl. Better speedy death, 
 a thousand times better, than such a future ; a 
 future of nameless guilt and shame, and an end one 
 durst not think of. God everywhere! Impossible. 
 There were places which God had forsaken, given 
 over to the devil and his angels. It was easy enough 
 to imagine a beneficent God in the flowers and 
 sunshine and peaceful white "clouds of the country ; 
 but here, in the reeking hell of slums, here, where
 
 Mine on tbe %ccb 85 
 
 foulness and cruelty and crime were rampant, 
 violating all laws, human and divine, it was the 
 bitterest mockery to say God ruled. 
 
 " Oh ! my Loo, my Loo," she sobbed pitcously, 
 " why were we ever born ? " 
 
 Putting her arm round the sleeping child, she tried 
 to repeat the prayer of her own girlhood ; but the 
 words stifled in her throat She could not even pray 
 then. The arms that held Loo fell limp, and turning 
 her face helplessly to the pillow, she drenched it in 
 a storm of self-pity. 
 
 As the rush of tears exhausted itself she became 
 calmer. Below, the drunken, riotous noises continued. 
 There was a fierce scuffle on the stair, a stamping of 
 heavy boots on the stones, obscene oaths, a scream, a 
 thud, a wailing moan, and then gruesome silence. 
 It might be murder for aught she knew. Life was 
 nothing in Paradise Court and its precincts. 
 
 Being high up, the din of the street, that weary, 
 sleepless street, reached her in all its variations. She 
 could hear the hoarse shouts of sluts and ruffians 
 quarrelling, the snatches of unclean song which 
 violated the darkness, and that multitudinous murmur 
 of busy life which ceases not day nor night. Once 
 she held her breath at the furious blowing of a police- 
 man's whistle. 
 
 " Somebody's hurt," she thought as she listened, 
 quivering, to the yells and muffled cries which followed. 
 
 Towards morning the noises died away in a general 
 drowsiness ; but a dull pain at her heart kept her 
 painfully awake. At last light began to glimmer 
 through the little window on which, as by instinct, her 
 eyes were fastened. There is a moment even in East 
 London when, by a miracle little heeded, poisonous 
 dens and crime-blotched tenements arc turned to 
 fairy palaces ; when the glittering city, radiant and 
 smokeless, lies open to the springs of dawn. Whoso-
 
 86 Mine on tbe Xecs 
 
 ever has seen that first splendour of the sun on roof 
 and dome and steeple will not readily forget the 
 magic vision. 
 
 Jenny rose softly, though not without pain, and 
 looked forth upon a sea of shining ridges. Opening 
 the cracked window very cautiously, lest the frame 
 should tumble out, she drank deep of the fresh, crisp 
 air, sweet, she fancied, with the breath of dew-drenched 
 woods. But the chill breeze making her eyes smart, 
 she turned quietly back into the room to bathe them. 
 Dick might beat her if he discovered she had been 
 cr>'ing. 
 
 Glancing at the bed, she was arrested by the con- 
 trast of the faces on the pillow — one so grievously 
 pinched with hunger, the other drink-inflamed. She 
 shivered, partly with cold, for she had lain through 
 the long, sleepless night scantily clothed, partly with 
 horror. She was very stiff" and sore now that she 
 moved, but it was not of her own pains and dis- 
 comforts she was thinking. 
 
 Glad of the diversion, she kindled the fire from the 
 half-hundredweight of coal in the corner and set about 
 preparing the breakfast. The warmth, the odour, the 
 brisk crackling of the sausages, and the knowledge 
 that Dick would be pleased, heartened her to a fresh 
 interest in life. When all was ready she spoke insinu- 
 atingly in her husband's ear, and he roused himself, 
 asking resentfully, " Wot the bother was about now." 
 
 " It's the sausages, Dick," answered Jenny. " Come, 
 dear, while they're hot. 
 
 In the same instant his nostrils tasted the delect- 
 able aroma of fried meat, and he was up with the 
 eager valiancy of a knight of the trencher challenged 
 to prove his mettle. Loo, too, was awakened ; and 
 Jenny, chivalrously invited to " wade in," found her 
 appetite suprisingly good. Indeed, such was the 
 success of the repast that when the dishes were empty
 
 Wiinc on tbc Xees 87 
 
 Mr. Goodman wiped his mouth in a gratification 
 which was ahnost gratitude. 
 
 " Jen," he said, looking blandly at his wife, " there 
 ain't nothin' like sosiges, an' you do cook 'em to a 
 turn ; I'll say that, you do cook 'em to a turn." 
 
 " I'm glad you like 'cm, Dick," she returned, a 
 smile breaking on her wan face. 
 
 " Like 'em," echoed Dick. " Lor', I loves 'em, that's 
 wot I do. Give mc a sosige as big's a boar con- 
 strictor, an' I could just sit down at one end an' suck 
 it out'n sight, that's wot I could do. An' as for Loo, 
 lor, she do tuck 'em in." 
 
 He thrust a forefinger into Loo's ribs, and thus 
 encouraged, she clambered on his knee and tried to 
 smother him with caresses. 
 
 " Ah ! there ye go," he cried delightedly. " A- 
 cuddlin' daddy cos he brings ye sosiges. Yer dead 
 on sosiges, ain't ye. Loo ? Licks yer fingers arter eatin' 
 'em, an' wishes ye had more, eh ? " 
 
 Loo laughed merrily ; and that moment Jenny 
 would have taken it as an honour to be kicked by her 
 husband. How she made haste to " tidy and wash 
 up," so that Dick might enjoy his own fire-side, and 
 how, with tears trembling among her smiles, she 
 furtively watched father and daughter playing, need 
 not be told. He was in good humour ; her sun 
 shone, and she was happy. 
 
 Presently Dick rose, and looking at himself in the 
 cracked mirror, remarked facetiously, " Too much 
 booze, old man. If Tommy Binks was to light on 
 ye now he'd be mighty likely to have fust blood." 
 
 The mention of Mr. Binks swung his mind to the 
 coming fight. He must call at once on Velvet 
 Chick. Velvet Chick was a friend of Tapley and of 
 a score more noblemen and gentlemen, whose mission 
 is to keep the British muscle in condition. Therefore 
 Chick was the man above all others " to work the
 
 88 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 orickle" as Mr. Goodman desired to see it worked. 
 Then, with a spasm of irritation, he remembered that, 
 the day being Sunday, the beer-houses were shut 
 " till the respectabilities concluded their rubric mum- 
 meries — a much more audacious feat than beer." Mr. 
 Goodman took the thing as an affront to conviviality 
 and a wanton torturing of the thirsty. Velvet Chick, 
 too, would be still in bed. " Better get back there," 
 said Dick ; and forthwith composed himself to 
 slumber. 
 
 As Jenny watched him sleeping she could have 
 sung for joy, despite the pain at her heart and the 
 wound in the back of her head. They might say 
 what they liked, but Dick was sound at the core. 
 Drink caused all the trouble ; if only he'd give up 
 
 the drink ! If She fell back from the flaming 
 
 sword which has barred so many Eden gates. 
 
 Dick slept heavily ; and Jenny, taking Loo upon her 
 knee, read from a small tattered volume, kept among 
 her sacred possessions, how Jesus loved little children 
 and blessed them. 
 
 " And would Desus love me ? " enquired Loo 
 eagerly, surrendering to the spell of the sweet old 
 story. 
 
 " Yes, darling ; He does love you." 
 
 " Shoo [sure], shoo, mammy ? Dust as I am ? " 
 casting a look over her shabby dress. 
 
 " Yes, dearie ; just as you are." 
 
 The child clapped her hands. 
 
 " Sh ! Don't waken daddy," cautioned her mother. 
 
 Loo held her breath, glancing fearfully at the bed. 
 
 " Would 'e knock 'oo down again, mammy ? " she 
 asked anxiously. " 'E knocked 'oo down last night, an' 
 I tied, 'cos 'oo was hurt." 
 
 Instead of answering, Jenny went on with her 
 reading. Suddenly Loo broke in, as it were musing 
 aloud.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 89 
 
 " I t'ought Desus wouldn't love 'agged little boys 
 an' gels," she said. 
 
 "Jesus Himself was poor, darling." 
 
 " Dust like us, mammy ? " 
 
 "Just like us." 
 
 The child's imagination Was aflame. It was com- 
 forting to think that this gracious, beautiful Jesus 
 was poor. But Loo's thoughts became mixed and 
 troubled. She could not understand how, being 
 without money and fine clothes. He could get people 
 into Heaven. In her world the rich alone were able 
 to perform miracles and confer benefits. To Loo, 
 Heaven was a place where people rode on 'buses, or 
 went in carriages attended by flunkeys, and dwelt in 
 fine houses ; a place where little girls had pretty frocks, 
 and plenty to eat, and an occasional penny to spend 
 on sweets, and played with nice, clean, well-dressed 
 little boys till they were tired, and then lay down on 
 soft beds, guarded by angels. 
 
 " Oh ! mammy," she exclaimed, forgetting her 
 difficulties, " mammy, mammy, if Desus dot us 
 there." 
 
 In the sweet, untheological way of mothers, Jenny 
 explained how they might get to Heaven, how Jesus 
 in His love pleaded for men and women and boys and 
 girls, and how sinners should pray to God and they 
 would get all they wanted. This was a great revela- 
 tion to Loo, who mused a while and then said, — 
 
 " Dod listens to 'ittle gels like me ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered her mother ; " He listens to little 
 girls like you, dearie." 
 
 "Den," said Loo triumphantly, "I'll pray to Dod 
 to stop daddy from knockin' 'oo down, mammy." 
 
 But to her amazement Jenny changed the subject. 
 
 A little later Dick rose, scrubbed his face, dressed 
 with extreme care, consumed what remained of the 
 sausages, and went forth in quest of Velvet Chick.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THAT gentleman resided in the Drury Lane 
 region in order to be at the centre of sport. 
 To the land of pantomimes, alleys, and evil smells 
 Dick accordingly made his way, a cigar between his 
 teeth, his step elastic, his chest thrown out, his nose 
 sniffing the clouds. This sort of carriage aerates the 
 blood, and Mr. Goodman was in excellent spirits. 
 Since, like smaller men, he had his vanities, it may 
 be confessed he meant to paralyse Chick with tales 
 of the friendship of lords, and other high patrons of 
 the noblest of the sciences. When, therefore, he 
 reached the residence of Mr. Chick, in a dim, malo- 
 dorous alley, not a day's journey from Bow Street, he 
 knocked as one who should say, " Look sharp there, 
 a man of consequence waits." 
 
 Nevertheless, he had to knock a second and third 
 time before the edge of the crumbling door went 
 slowly back a foot or so, and the puckered, dirty face 
 of a witch-like old woman peered at him suspiciously 
 from the twilight within. Dick would hardly have 
 shone in a Scripture Examination ; but in his army 
 days he had heard from the Scotch chaplain of the 
 Witch of Endor. So he greeted the door keeper 
 genially with " Good-day, Mother Hendor. 'Ope I 
 sees ye well." 
 
 The compliment was thrown away ; she had never 
 heard of Mother Hendor. 
 
 90
 
 TKIline on tbe Xees 91 
 
 "Wot is it?" she asked testily, blinking as she 
 scanned him from head to foot. 
 
 He stated the object of his visit, and she snapped, 
 "Wot name? " 
 
 " Well, now, ain't that stoopid ? " cried Dick, as if 
 vexed with himself. " 'Ere I've gone an' come a-visitin' 
 without my card-case. An' me knowin' as ye'd be 
 particular, too. But it'll be all right, m'm, if you 
 open the door wide enough for me to squeeze through. 
 Gent above knows me." 
 
 " Cawn't do that," she retorted, prepared to clap 
 the door in his face at the first sign of aggression. 
 " Must take up the name fust." 
 
 "Then you can take Mr. Goodman's compliments, 
 m'm, an' say he's a-callin', an' 'opes it might be con- 
 wenient to see him," said Dick, drawing himself up to 
 impress the ill-conditioned hag. 
 
 The door banged, and he was left to his reflections. 
 
 "Chilly," he thought, lifting his eyes and surveying 
 the dingy house-front. " Wonder where Velvet 
 Chick came acrost that ancient goriller. Turned 
 out'n the Zoo, I should think. Mother Hendor ! 
 Lord, she'd scare the bloke as wanted the witch raised 
 out'n his boots ! " 
 
 With that he turned and looked about him. Up 
 and down the alley doorsteps were occupied b)^ 
 groups of unwashed, evil-looking men and women 
 engaged in discoursing slander and blasphemy. 
 Half a dozen girls, in bangs and ribbons and faded 
 plush, were chanting the refrain of a music-hall song 
 to the accompaniment of a mouth-organ, blown by a 
 pimply-faced, oily-pated j'outh at a first-floor window. 
 Spying a stranger with nothing to do, they dropped 
 the song and challenged him to a flirtation. Dick 
 protested his " raspberry tart " was another's. 
 " Married man," he declared — " large family — respeck- 
 ible — go to church o' Sunday's, besides tca-meetin's.
 
 92 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 You really mustn't be makin' up to me, my dears. 
 My missus wouldn't stand it." 
 
 Throwing back their heads, the girls laughed the 
 thick, coarse laugh of the slums. They had evidently 
 lighted on a man after their own hearts. 
 
 " Pore, innercent lamb ! " they cried. " But don't you 
 be takin' on so 'bout the missus. She's all right ; 
 she's at 'ome with the curate." 
 
 Whereupon the alley roared, advising him to mind 
 " them Bible sharps." 
 
 In the midst of the merriment the door was again 
 opened very cautiously, but a little wider than before. 
 Mother Endor, duskily visible behind, intimated that 
 he might enter ; and letting fly a Parthian arrow at the 
 girls, Dick plunged into the inner darkness. 
 
 The great Chick sat on his bed-edge, in shirt sleeves 
 and unbraced breeches, discoursing to two friends, who 
 shared between them the only chair in the room, and 
 nodded assent to his sentiments while consuming his 
 ale. He held out a mighty paw, which Dick seized 
 and wrung like an athlete, enquiring at the same time 
 after its owner's health. 
 
 " Ai at Lloyd's," answered Chick— " Ai at Lloyd's. 
 An' 'ow's yer own feelin's ? " 
 
 "Ai at Lloyd's likewise," said Dick cheerily, 
 smiling upon the other guests, whom he knew as 
 brother-sportsmen. "Can't be nothin' better'n Ai 
 at Lloyd's, can there ? " 
 
 " Dunno 'bout that," returned Chick. " The Mariar, 
 as went down last week, takin' all hands with her, was 
 A I at Lloyd's. Reckoned the cap'n were drunk 
 when she struck. 'Ave a reviver." 
 
 Reaching to the mantelpiece he took down a bottle 
 of ale, which he handed, with a corkscrew and a 
 chipped tumbler, to Dick, inviting him to do " the 
 needful" for himself. Chick had always something 
 sociable for his friends. P^or the enterprising pro-
 
 XRHine on the Xecs 93 
 
 prietor of the Spotted Goat, a noted tavern hard by, 
 knowing Chick's standing with the elect, had secured 
 his influence. By the terms of the agreement. Chick 
 was to do the square thing by the Spotted Goat, and 
 the Spotted Goat was to do the square thing by 
 Chick. Therefore he could always satisfy thirsty 
 visitors, or, in his own expressive words, " give 'em a 
 skinful." 
 
 As Dick drew the cork, the host made himself com- 
 fortable on his matress-throne. Displayed in all his 
 leonine might, he was a man to inspire respect in the 
 brave and terror in the timid. With a black, close- 
 cropped, bullet-head set on the neck of a bull, he had 
 a body on which you would have said the pommelling 
 of mere fists would be as the tapping of drum-sticks. 
 His unbuttoned shirt revealed a great hairy chest, 
 which suggested the lungs of a bison or a brewer's 
 horse. A clean shoulder-blow off that tower of 
 strength was a thing to fell a giant. Early in his 
 career his nose had been flattened and his upper lip 
 split. These facial alterations, in conjunction with 
 an enormous jowl and heavy, rolling eyes, gave him 
 the benign aspect of a bulldog. 
 
 Dick instinctively looked up to him, less in love, 
 perhaps, than in jealousy. Tommy Binks could be 
 treated like a common mortal — but Chick, the re- 
 doubtable " bruiser," who, but for one or two defects 
 of habit, might dispute honours with Crinch himself! 
 One would not carry a jest too far with Chick. " If 
 he could only be kept six months off the drink," 
 said good judges, " he'd whip any man in England, or 
 out of it." But, unhappily, the Spotted Goat was too 
 much for Mr. Chick. 
 
 " 'Ear as you've bin away," he said, looking shrewdly 
 at his visitor. 
 
 " Yes," returned Dick, wiping his mouth. " Bin to 
 the country with my family. Not bein' a married
 
 I 
 
 94 XKHine on tbe Xees 
 
 man, Chicky, maybe ye don't know as kids ,peeds 
 fresh air." 
 
 " Shouldn't 'ave thought as you was the man to 
 take on 'bout kids an' fresh air," laughed Chick. 
 " 'Ovv's the country? All a-bloomin' an' a-blowin' 
 with roses, a s'pose." 
 
 " Sunthin' that way," said Dick. 
 
 " An' 'ere," cried Chick, " blest of ye ain't gone 
 an' come back without'n so much as a booky in yer 
 button-'ole. Might a' brought us city blokes, as can't 
 go into the country with our famblies, some of the 
 essence of rose as the nobility bathes in. 
 
 Whereat the company laughed uproariously, for 
 Chick, like other great men, was particular as to the 
 reception of his jokes. Encouraged and elated, he 
 jested prodigiously for a full half-hour, and his friends 
 roared with tact and drank with relish and goodwill ; 
 for though the jests were bad, the drink was excellent 
 and abundant. 
 
 At last Dick got his chance, and swerved to business. 
 Whereupon Chick became a smiling sphinx. He 
 knew all about the forthcoming fight, but untold 
 gold would not tempt him to blab. The time hadn't 
 quite come for particulars ; but they might take it 
 from him that the combat was to be "the biggest 
 thing ever known in the hannils of the ring." 
 
 " Talk of toffs," cried Mr. Chick, his heart swelling 
 with honest English pride — " talk of toffs, it's nuthin' 
 but princes, an' dooks, an' hearls, an' lords, an' bary- 
 nites of every degree. Bless ye, they're as thick 'bout 
 the Royal Olympian as blue-bottles on fly-paper on 
 an August Sunday arternoon. Hcpsom an' the 
 Darby ain't in it." 
 
 " They say as Tufty Slogget's a devil with the left," 
 said one of the first comers. 
 
 " 'An wot's Tom Crinch with the right ? " demanded 
 the other. " A bally plaster saint, a 'and-painted
 
 Mfne on tbc Xecs 9S 
 
 Chiner hangel, a s'pose. When Tufty's a-doin' it with 
 the left, it's my 'pinion Tom'll be attendin' to the 
 right. There ain't no sham Abra'm 'bout 'im, as I've 
 'eard on." 
 
 " I seed Tom last night," said Chick, with the re- 
 flected glory of the man who is hand-in-glove with 
 a champion heavy-weight, " an' 'e's as right's a 
 porkerpine, an' as 'ard to get at. The fightin's all 
 right. Wot knocks me senseless is the money. The 
 'ole bloomin' Bank of Hengland's on." 
 
 The three guests wiped their mouths simultaneously 
 over that vision of gold. Then Dick dexterously 
 tried to get the names of the illustrious patrons. Did 
 Chick happen to know if Tapley, the Earl of Wegron's 
 son and heir, was of the number? Chick answered in 
 the affirmative, asking in turn what Goodman knew 
 of Tapley. 
 
 " Met him in the country," replied Dick indiffer- 
 ently, as if he were daily in the habit of meeting lords 
 in the country. "Met young Twickham, too," he 
 added. " That's old Bung's son. Don't 'appen to 
 know if he's in it?" 
 
 " Yes, 'e's in it," said Chick, opening his eyes. 
 " An' MacTor's in it— that's MacTor's Scotch whiskey. 
 'E's a beauty. Don't know 'alf the time wot e's 
 tryin' to say — gone on the Scotch haccint ; but the 
 money's there. Oh ! the oofs all right." 
 
 Dick supposed the oracle could be worked so that 
 " friends of the fambly, so ter speak," would be admitted 
 to the show free. 
 
 " That orikle ain't no go this twist," returned Chick. 
 " Pay, an' you go in ; don't pay, and you stay out. I 
 understand that's the sole an' hexclusive orikle on 
 this hoccasion. An' wot's more, prices is a-goin' up 
 like mcrkry on a brilin' August day." 
 
 Dick took a pull at his glass to compose himself. 
 Then he gently enquired whether his friends might
 
 96 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 count on Chick's aid to get in at reduced figures. 
 But Chick was powerless. He was, of course, to go 
 in free himself ; that was all he could manage. The 
 difficulty, he understood, was to find room for those 
 who were willing to pay any price the committee 
 named. Mr. Goodman emptied another bottle and 
 departed, satisfied that nothing was to be got out of 
 the inflated Chick. 
 
 The evening was spent at the Bear and Cubs, where 
 Mr. Wragg was gracious and an admiring audience 
 was liberal with drinks, for it was clear Dick was 
 getting into high quarters. 
 
 Next day he wrote a letter to Tapley in his best 
 army hand, recalling their pleasant meeting in the 
 country, and hinting, with that rare delicacy of which 
 he was master, how much a pass to the Olympian 
 for the great night would be appreciated. By return 
 of post came the coveted pass for " Mr. R. Goodman 
 and friend." It was a serious question who the friend 
 should be. After much thought the honour was con- 
 ferred upon Tommy Binks, Mr. Goodman for the 
 present preferring that form of revenge.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 WITH the possible exception of a general fresh 
 from slaughtering her enemies, England loves 
 nothing half so much as a prime, certificated prize- 
 fighter. On that masterpiece she dotes with more 
 than the pride of a parent. The crown and glory of 
 British manhood he is at once a thing of beauty and 
 a trenchant example of the skill, valour, stamina, and 
 fighting ability which have made our beloved country 
 the favourite of Heaven and the despair of the nations. 
 Remembering this, as well as all that was expected of 
 itself, the Royal Olympian rose superbly to the occa- 
 sion, and Society gave a rousing response. Not since 
 Tom Sayers made putty of the Benicia Boy had the 
 sporting element been touched to such a pitch of ex- 
 citement and enthusiasm. The " princes, dooks, lords, 
 and barynites," of whom Velvet Chick had spoken 
 with such gusto, gave the event something more than 
 their moral support, while democracy bore down on 
 the committee wild with exultation and a desire for 
 tickets. Chick was right when he said prices were to 
 be raised ; prices were trebled, and when space was 
 exhausted, big premiums tempted lucky holders. 
 But it was in the betting that the choicer spirits 
 revelled. England is rich, America is rich ; and their 
 riches were pitted in a way that made thousands giddy. 
 Since the days of Adam and Eve human nature 
 has been addicted to forbidden fruit, and of all the 
 morsels that are sweet on the tongue of the sinner, 
 
 97 7
 
 98 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 the sweetest is won by gambling. Nothing else 
 sends quite the same exquisite thrill through the 
 members. The oldest hands were readiest to admit 
 that the betting on Crinch and Slogget was the most 
 brilliant and thrilling which had ever given them a 
 vertigo. Tapley and Vincent Twickham were in the 
 affair prominently and energetically. So was Mr. 
 Duncan MacTor ; not that he cared a jot about 
 boxing, but the advertisement was good for whiskey. 
 Therefore the red beard of MacTor shone and waved 
 an oriflamme in the thick of the excitement. The 
 Earl of Wegron bestowed his patronage with the 
 discretion to be expected of that famous amateur, 
 risking his money with the shrewdness of a veteran. 
 Viscount Twickham gave the thing his countenance, 
 partly as a relaxation from more arduous amuse- 
 ments, partly in deference to the spirit of his set. 
 He liked sport ; but the winning or losing of money 
 was nothing to him. Unlike Wegron and some 
 others, he was overburdened with gold. So it came 
 to pass that his friends, appreciating the sacredness 
 of friendship, flocked about him with tips ; and when 
 the day of reckoning came, pocketed the results with 
 charming grace. It is a peculiarity of betting that, 
 given the chance, you cannot help taking in your 
 bosom friend ; and as Viscount Twickham was 
 blessed with a multitude of the best friends that ever 
 made a man happy, his disbursements were immense. 
 He paid with a smiling innocence which touched the 
 hearts of recipients ; for he would have died rather 
 than divulge the feeling of being victimised. " Poor 
 devil ! he needs it," he would say to himself as a 
 brother peer went off with his coin. 
 
 On the great night Velvet Chick flitted furtively 
 among the shadows ; but by grace of Lord Tapley, 
 Dick was in open evidence as deputy door-keeper 
 and chief " chuckcr-out."
 
 HCltne on tbc Xees 99 
 
 " Fust time in my life," he snickered, " as me an' 
 the police have been on the same side." 
 
 It added to the satire of the situation that, in his 
 place of honour, he stood cheek by jowl with a 
 constable who had once assisted in " running him 
 in." Mr. Goodman cherished no grudge. 
 
 "You was only a-doin' of yer dooty," he remarked 
 to the astonished constable, on disclosing his identity. 
 " D'ye think as I'd be down on a man for doin' his 
 dooty ! That ain't my style. When I was a 
 bloomin' kiltie — that's the Forty-second Royal 
 'Ighlanders, you understand — I've put two foot of 
 cold steel through 'caps an' 'caps of poor devils. 
 D'ye think it was 'cos I hated 'em I made holes in 
 'em ? No, sir. But 'Er Majesty she ses, ' Private 
 Richard Goodman, B Company, Black Watch, your 
 dooty for the time bein' is to stick them blessed 
 niggers, 'cos they 'aven't the sense to behave 'emselves.' 
 An' I stuck 'em, as in dooty bound. When you 'elped 
 to take me up as a D. and D., you was doin' it in 
 dooty bound." 
 
 The constable breathed more easily, for it would 
 be an uncomfortable thing to lie under the ill will of 
 one who had the Royal Olympian at his back. 
 
 For a week before the fight Dick had his liquor 
 free in all the public-houses within the mile radius. 
 Nay, people lay in wait and disputed for the honour 
 of treating him. At the Spotted Goat he was 
 elevated even above Velvet Chick, a bit of favouritism 
 which made Chick swear revenge. But Mr. Goodman 
 was, in the main, loyal to the Bear and Cubs, Mr. 
 Wragg having dropped a hint it would be worth the 
 hero's while to make that famous pub his head- 
 quarters. There, night after night, he entertained an 
 admiring and thirsty crowd, who made a run on 
 Twickham's ale and MacTor's Scotch hot. The 
 custom of the Spotted Goat, Mr. Wragg told Dick
 
 loo Mine on tbc Xees 
 
 privately, was falling off, in spite of all that Chick 
 could do, 
 
 "Well," said Dick, "Chick ain't in with the toffs 
 as I be" — a fact which Mr. Wragg gratefully 
 acknowledged. 
 
 His home saw little of Dick. In the small hours 
 of the morning he would tumble in upon Jenny, 
 hiccoughing, but not violent ; for to be well filled is, 
 in general, to be amiable, and Dick found the canteen 
 arrangements entirely satisfactory. As tokens of his 
 happiness and affection, he dropped many peace 
 offerings in her lap, — now a sausage, now a chunk 
 of boiled ham, now a pint of winkles, and again a 
 loaf of bread. He even brought her beer, which he 
 obligingly drank himself, since it didn't agree with 
 her ; and he remembered Loo's weakness for toffee. 
 In addition, he was able to put a trifle on the fight, 
 and altogether felt that at last virtue was bringing 
 prosperity. 
 
 "Jen, old gel," he cried one day, "the best stroke 
 of biz we ever done was that trip into the country. 
 See how things fall out. If I hadn't gone an' got 
 boozed, an' broke that copper's 'ead, an' been run 
 afore the beak, an' him Twickham's ale, an' so got 
 took up by the toffs, we shouldn't be so 'appy now, 
 should we ? This is wot ye might call a new hera — 
 rations to yer heart's content, plenty to eat an' drink, 
 an' sunthin' for hextras. Jen, it'll be beaf-steak puddin' 
 for dinner an' plum cake for tea 'fore all's over." 
 
 But intense as was Dick's happiness, Jenny was 
 exceedingly ill at ease. Not being in her husband's 
 confidence, she was more alarmed than gratified by 
 this breeze of good fortune. It seemed ominous, 
 unnatural. And, woe of woes ! Dick never returned 
 to her sober. Nothing but evil could come of 
 perpetual drunkenness, she told herself So while 
 Dick soared to the seventh heaven of bliss, Jenny
 
 Mine on tbe Xecs loi 
 
 sighed much, and grew so white and thin, that 
 even neighbours, accustomed to pining and drooping 
 noticed it with pity, if also with contempt. Her 
 appetite failed her. The delicacies of ham and 
 sausage stuck in her throat. Her conduct too became 
 erratic. Suddenly, in the midst of her work, she 
 would snatch up Loo and kiss and hug her ; then 
 as suddenly set her down and turn away. Once 
 Loo called out, " Mammy, 'oo tying ; what 'oo tying 
 for, mammy ? " but Jenny, whisking off the tear, 
 turned a laughing face on the child. 
 
 " Who's crying ? " she asked, and the next moment 
 she was holding Loo in a smothering embrace. 
 
 " You mustn't be sayin' to daddy as mammy was 
 crying," she said, " for you saw that mammy was 
 laughing. Is the toffee very good, dearie ? " 
 
 Yes, the toffee was very dood ; but Loo was sure 
 mammy had been tying. 
 
 Thus while Dick attended to the affairs of the 
 Royal Olympian, and was the soul of a dozen public- 
 houses, Jenny's heart grew heavier and sorer. And 
 it made bitterness more bitter that there was not 
 one poor soul with whom she could exchange a 
 word in her trouble. Who cared whether she lived 
 or died ? Paradise Court scorned her, scoffed at her. 
 And the great, rich, glittering world outside, the 
 world of decency and happy homes, what was she 
 or her insignificant life to it? Pleasure passed her 
 by. Religion knew her not. The Church had other 
 things to do than finger the gutter on the chance 
 of picking up a pearl. Missionaries, indeed, there 
 were, whose wry, reproachful faces and tactless ways 
 made redemption sour and excited resentment and 
 ridicule. Dick had fallen foul of one of them, thus 
 frightening the lot from ever climbing the stair again. 
 So Jenny had only the wide-eyed Loo and her own 
 dismal thoughts for company or comfort. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVr.^^^!DE
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THOSE who expected rousing entertainment 
 from Tom Crinch and Tufty Slogget were not 
 disappointed. Neither were those who devoted their 
 energies to betting. Crinch took the ring with one 
 hundred and twenty thousand pounds on his head ; 
 Slogget almost equally weighted. Having the heavy 
 stakes vividly in mind, knowing also that the grit of 
 two great nations was on trial, and that telegraph wires 
 were held open to thrill the world with the result, 
 the champions exchanged greetings, smiling a deadly 
 intent. Experts, reading their faces, whispered 
 rapturously there was to be no selling of the fight. 
 
 They began with the cautious alertness of masters 
 of ring craft. Tufty showed generalship in his use 
 of the left, and Tom was splendidly nimble with the 
 right. The interest was soon of electric intensity. 
 You could hear the soughing excitement rise and 
 fall as one or other got in a telling hit. England 
 gasped and bit her lip when Tom Crinch's left arm 
 swung by his side as if broken ; but it was only 
 momentarily paralysed, and the right peppered so 
 effectively that very soon America had but one eye. 
 The other, as a humorist remarked, was only a dot 
 in the middle of a stale beef-steak. Then the 
 transatlantic brotherhood breathed hard, cursing 
 audibly but unconsciously. But in general honours 
 ran evenly, for the men were excellently matched. 
 On all hands it was owned the Royal Olympian had
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 103 
 
 never witnessed so brilliant an exhibition of manly 
 qualities, which is to say that Tom and Tufty were 
 at once breaking records and making history. 
 
 Half an hour after the start the Earl of Wegron 
 leaned towards his neighbour, MacTor, and re- 
 marked, — 
 
 " Be Gawd, MacTor, almost as stimulating as Scotch 
 whiskey ! Look at 'em, fast getting blind and yet 
 gamer than game-cocks. Combs and eyes may go, 
 but no funk or white feather ! I saw the Benicia Boy 
 done up, and it wasn't a finer sight than that." 
 
 " It's grand, it's grand ! " responded MacTor, pulling 
 ecstatically at his sheaf of red beard. " I can under- 
 stand now how the Caesars went daft over gladiators. 
 Did ye see yon ? did ye see yon ? Clean on the point : 
 that's one for Tom ; but God ! there Tufty's made 
 a swashing return. I wonder how many thousand 
 sparks Thomas sees now ? Things are dirlin', I'll bet. 
 It's perfectly wonderful what can be done with four 
 fists, even when they're inside gloves." 
 
 " Wonderful, indeed ! " put in Lord Twickham, 
 looking hard at the defeatured performers in the ring. 
 
 "By Jimminy," cried an American, lifted out of 
 himself by a vehement and damaging passage, " I 
 do call that sloggin' ! We'll be going up this minute 
 to prise their eyes open, so's they can see each other. 
 This beats Noo York." 
 
 When the champions had been at it an hour 
 wind and stamina were visibly failing. Both men 
 were going down neatly time about, and rising 
 with looks that were more and more dazed. But 
 neither showed any intention of yielding, and the 
 excitement of their backers grew deep and painful. 
 Tufty's terrible left was going wild now, and Tom's 
 decorative right seemed equally irresponsible. Still 
 they grinned out of their gory masks and pounded 
 away, disfigured but invincible.
 
 I04 TRIline on tbe Xees 
 
 Backers became furiously impatient. Why couldn't 
 Tom hit out? What was Tufty thinking of? You 
 could see their flanks heaving, you could hear the 
 rattle of their labouring breath. Their legs shook, 
 their arms were limp. But what of that? Why 
 didn't one knock the other senseless ? A knock-out 
 blow, a knock-out blow, that was what the spectators 
 wanted. 
 
 " Tom Crinch, knock the breath out'n him quick ! " 
 yelled a tense voice, rousing pandemonium. 
 
 In the tumult Tom, pulling himself together con- 
 vulsively, got his right fair on his adversary's heart, 
 and Tufty dropped like a brained ox. Ready knees 
 supported him ; brandy went down his throat ; he 
 was mopped and rubbed and encouraged, and, like 
 the fighter he was, gathered himself valiantly for 
 another round. But the knotted, oaken limbs suddenly 
 bent and twisted as if turned to willow sapling, and 
 the superb battering ram collapsed. Thereupon a 
 shriek like the concentrated scream of a dozen 
 tempests went up. Tom Crinch, staggering and 
 swaying drunkenly, grimaced upon the crowd, trying, 
 as one said, "to wink his blooming bunged-up 
 peepers." The next instant Tapley was wringing 
 the victor's hand, the ^ite of England surging at 
 his back for a like felicity. The full glory of the 
 moment lies chronicled in special editions of sporting 
 and other newspapers and long columns of journals 
 prepared for Sunday reading. Whoso will may read 
 of it in the muscular language of the sporting reporter, 
 who excelled himself on the occasion. 
 
 Tom was borne off in noble arms to be doctored, 
 congratulated, and toasted in floods of champagne. 
 Nor was the gallant Tufty neglected. He had failed ; 
 but the Royal Olympian loved him the better for 
 the manner of his failure. He had played the man ; 
 and Britons arc chivalrous to the brave, whether
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 105 
 
 victors or vanquished. So that Tufty, though less 
 in glory than his conqueror, was nevertheless a star 
 of exceeding lustre. The pair shared honours, and 
 went through the ordeal of functions and festivities 
 together. They consorted with the great and the 
 noble ; fashionable beauties smiled on them in public, 
 and in private doted on their photographs. They 
 were feted till the trainers protested ; and praised 
 till epithets ran out. But for the jealousy of politi- 
 cians they would have had Stars and Garters; 
 and more than one influential nobleman declared 
 an intention of having things altered, so that State 
 honours might be more appropriately bestowed. As 
 for the enthusiasm of the populace, when the heroes 
 appeared in public it was past description. 
 
 So much Clio deponeth. But that stately dame 
 has a trick of ignoring minor actors in transcendent 
 dramas. When the illustrious sweep on their glorified 
 course, atoms and windlestraws of humanity are 
 caught up like motes in a whirlwind to gyrate unseen 
 or unnoticed. Of the multitude who whirled in the 
 train of Tom Crinch and Tufty Slogget, none was 
 more gleefully in his element than Mr. Richard Good- 
 man. He made " a tidy bit " on Tapley's tips. The 
 genial Tapley also presented him to divers lords and 
 " barynites " who could appreciate a man of his kidney. 
 Finally, he " took the shine " out of Velvet Chick so 
 effectively that Chick insinuated " swelled 'ead." But 
 the chief thing was the renewed connection with 
 Tapley and Vincent Twickham. Dick loved them 
 both, and proclaimed his love nightly in the Ruggler 
 Den, the Bear and Cubs, and other places of social 
 resort. Nor did he hide his sentiments while in their 
 company. 
 
 " I say, Tottie," he remarked one day, when the 
 group of friends, including the MacTor, were together 
 in the halls of the Royal Olympian, " 'pears to me
 
 io6 Mine on tbe Xecs 
 
 old Mother Nature's made a mistake for onct with 
 you. She's gone an' put the spirit of a prize-fighter 
 into the body of a jockey, that's wot she's done. 
 Ten stone 'stead of fourteen an' a 'alf. It's 'ard, 
 Tottie, bloomin' 'ard ! " 
 
 " Have a round," said Tapley, buttoning his coat. 
 
 Goodman retorted with a roar of laughter. 
 
 " I'll see ye in Jericho fust, Tottie," he cried, " I'll 
 see ye in Jericho fust. I knows my best friend when 
 I sees 'im, an' you bet I ain't going to disfigure him. 
 Hit me if ye like, but hencefor'ard Dick Goodman's 
 fist is for Lord Tapley's enemies, if so be he has any." 
 
 Whereupon the company had champagne at Mac- 
 Tor's expense. 
 
 Thus absorbed, Dick had little time for the joys of 
 home. He left early and returned — when he could, 
 hiccoughing and unsteady. Sometimes a neighbour 
 obligingly gave him a hand up the black Alpine stair, 
 sometimes he lay down in the darkness and slept, thus 
 causing outbursts of profanity in others of reeling 
 senses who chanced to fall over him. Once or twice 
 Mr. Wragg thoughtfully sent an attendant to soften 
 the zeal of officious policemen by the way ; but this 
 attention Mr. Goodman construed as a reflection on 
 his manhood. Accordingly, at two o'clock one foggy 
 Sunday morning, when Paradise Court, for a wonder, 
 slumbered, he tried to mark his resentment on the 
 attendant's countenance. At the first sign of hostility 
 the man bolted, and the practice of sending an escort 
 was discontinued. 
 
 To tell the truth, home was Dick's last resort. He 
 preferred the light, the warmth, the manifold odours, 
 and hilarious fellowship of the public-house to the 
 chill and gloom and penury of the garret in Paradise 
 Court. How much pleasanter it was to mingle with 
 convivial groups at the Bear and Cubs than to sit 
 in a miserable room, watching a worn-out woman and
 
 Mine on tbe Xces 107 
 
 a starving child. Yes, the public-house life was the 
 only gay, elevating, enchanting life for a man desiring 
 to taste heaven on earth. In the tavern alone could 
 he taste that spirit which soothes the nerve, and ex- 
 hilarates the brain, and makes the blood bound, and 
 confers the gift of eloquence, and wins everlasting 
 friends. Dick worshipped devoutly in his temple.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 CHANCING to return to Paradise Court one 
 afternoon at the unusual hour of three o'clock, 
 Dick was astonished to find a carriage drawn up at 
 the entrance, not a donkey-chaise, nor a pony-chaise, 
 nor a hospital van, nor a huckster's waggon, nor 
 a nondescript vehicle of any sort, but a real, spick- 
 and-span West End carriage, with crest and coat-of- 
 arms on the panel, a solemn, overfed coachman on 
 the box, and on the curb a supercilious footman, 
 sniffing disdainfully. Dick quickened his step, a 
 lively interest stirring his heart at this vision of 
 grandeur. Coming up, he paused, casting a critical 
 eye over the sleek men and horses, and the shining, 
 silver-laden harness. That done, he brought his eyes 
 back to the smug red face of the coachman. 
 
 " Wot's up, guv'nor ? " he asked, meaning to be 
 friendly. 
 
 The dignitary of the whip gazed down severely, as 
 if rebuking impudence and measuring off social 
 distance at a look. 
 
 " 'Ad no hidear as anythink was hup," he said at 
 length. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Dick, as if a great mystery had been 
 solved for him, " I see. You drive into these 'ere 
 breezy, open spaces for fresh air ; an' I must say as 
 the exercise 'pears to 'grce with ye. Ye look pretty 
 'calthy on it, bloomin' like a potted rose." 
 
 " 'Bout as bloomin' as you," retorted the coachman. 
 
 io8
 
 Wine on tbc Xces 109 
 
 " You're a putty, 'igh-coloured donjohn, you are, an' no 
 mistake." Whereupon he snickered, winking privily 
 at his comrade on the curb. That engaging youth, 
 slipping behind Dick, squared so scientifically in dumb 
 show that the coachman couldn't keep his broad face 
 straight. Dick was innocently obtuse. 
 
 "'Igh colour's expensive, ain't it?" he remarked, 
 looking up very seriously. " Now your face must 
 'a' cost a fortin. The kind o' paint as you puts on 
 ain't to be got in every paint-shop. 'Tain't every one 
 as can afford to lay on port wine an' old ale, is it ? 
 You're a interestin' curiosity ; mind steppin' down till 
 I 'ave a proper look at you ? " 
 
 At this a varied and merry crowd, which had 
 collected in expectation of fun, burst into satirical 
 laughter, calling on the coachman to jump down and 
 let the " gennleman " have a look at him. The 
 pantomimic footman, too, increased his antics at 
 Dick's back, thus enhancing the gaiety. All at once 
 Dick turned with an adroit, accidental backhander, 
 which sent the performer skipping to the accompani- 
 ment of a running fire of derision. 
 
 " I like you, sonny," said Dick gravely. " But wot 
 was you a-hidin' for, an' you so 'andsome ? 'Ave a 
 little sport ?" And he cleared for action. 
 
 " It's a policeman 'e wants," suggested the coach- 
 man from above ; " 'e'U ketch cold if 'e ain't moved 
 on. 'Arry, see if ye cawn't accomidite 'im ; 'e'll do 
 as much for you another time." 
 
 'Arry started at a run to fetch a constable, but 
 the next instant swung back, his face suddenly grave 
 and deferential. 
 
 " 'Er ladyship," he said quickly, springing to the 
 carriage door. Whereupon the coachman drew him- 
 self up rigidly, looking as if his eyes were for ever 
 fixed in front, and would not on any consideration 
 defile or demean themselves by so much as a glance
 
 no Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 at plebs on the pavement. The crowd melted on 
 its several ways, with parting comments on the looks 
 of the men in livery and injunctions to Dick to 
 " let 'em have it." 
 
 But Dick's interest had been as suddenly diverted 
 as the footman's. Looking up the court he beheld 
 two ladies of aristocratic mien coming towards him, 
 one elderly, the other also past her first youth, but still 
 young, and very dainty and attractive in her bearing. 
 The elder was leaning affectionately on the arm of 
 the younger, and beside them, curtseying and smiling 
 and furtively wiping her eyes, was — of all people 
 in the world — Jenny. In the dim perspective beyond 
 stood Loo, gazing wistfully with a finger in her 
 mouth. Feeling instinctively that a crucial moment 
 in his life had arrived, Dick stepped briskly forward, 
 giving the military salute. 
 
 Her ladyship drew up with a perceptible flutter. 
 Though in her anxiety about souls she ventured 
 into slums, it was with the feelings of one entering 
 a cage of wild beasts on a wager ; and this question- 
 able apparition startled her. 
 
 " Who is the man ? " she asked, keeping her eye 
 on Dick, as if at any moment he might spring. 
 
 Jenny's white face turned crimson. 
 
 " My 'usband, my lady," she faltered, struggling 
 with the hot swirl in her brain — *' my 'usband, just 
 coming 'ome." 
 
 " Yes, 'm," put in Dick blithely ; " 'er 'usband just 
 comin' 'ome — Jenny's 'usband," and he beamed 
 convivially on the visitors. 
 
 " Dear, oh dear ! " murmured her ladyship ; " and 
 this is the desperate character we have heard so 
 much of! I hope," she whispered nervously to her 
 companion, " I hope he's sober. It would be 
 dreadful " 
 
 Dick's quick ear caught the word.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees m 
 
 " Sober ! " he cried. " Bless you, m'm, sober's a 
 harchbishop at a hordination, an' tight on his pins 
 as a colour-sergeant day arter promotion. Yes, 'm." 
 
 Jenny, who had unconsciously moved to his side, 
 looked anxiously from face to face, her own tense 
 with fear of what the volatile Dick would do or say 
 next. It relieved her to find that, interpreting the 
 word liberally, he might really be called sober. She 
 yearned to give his sleeve a warning tug, but that 
 was impossible. She could not even give a hint 
 with her eyes, for his were comically fixed on the 
 lady before him. 
 
 " I've heard of you," said her ladyship, levelling her 
 lorgnette the better to meet his gaze. 
 
 Dick grinned. 
 
 " Yes, 'm," he said blandly. " I ain't without friends 
 to speak of me. Friends be mighty queer at times, 
 m'm, as you may 'ave noticed. Some speaks the 
 trewth, and some tother thing." 
 
 " I daresay," responded her ladyship. " I've heard 
 something on both sides." 
 
 " An' I 'ope as a little of wot you 'card was to 
 your mind, m'm," rejoined Dick gallantly. 
 
 " I'm afraid evil tongues have had a chance," was 
 the answer. " But that would be too fatiguing to 
 discuss at present. My son has spoken of you." 
 
 "If you was to court-martial me on the spot I 
 couldn't name 'im, m'm," said Dick. "But I'll lay 
 two to one he ain't the sort to peach. S'elp me 
 Gawd, m'm ! " 
 
 " Shocking ! " cried her ladyship — " shocking ! 
 Suppose you were to be struck down in your 
 blasphemy." 
 
 " I don't want to put the parish in for no fun'ril 
 expenses," said Dick, smiling. 
 
 " A dreadful man ! " sighed her ladyship — " a 
 shocking, dreadful man ! quite lost, I'm afraid, to the
 
 112 Mtne on tbe Xees 
 
 proprieties of life and religion. I must send Mr. 
 Quince to you," she added, addressing Dick directly. 
 
 " Gennleman's name sticks me, m'm," he returned. 
 " Don't 'ang out 'bout 'ere, do he ? " 
 
 " He's one of the best known clergymen in London," 
 answered her ladyship with some warmth. 
 
 " Beggin' pard'n, then," said Dick, " but if it was all 
 the same, 'e'd better not come. Them Gospel touts 
 lose their way an' get 'urt ; yes, m'm." 
 
 " Gospel touts ! " echoed her ladyship. " You must 
 not speak of the clergy like that. It would do you 
 good to be visited by Mr. Quince — very much good 
 indeed, I think. Meantime, you may remember my 
 son's name. It's Twickham — Vincent Twickham." 
 
 Dick instinctively saluted again, eyes and mouth 
 opening in amazement. 
 
 "Well! I'm " He clapped on the curb Justin 
 
 time. " Lord ! 'tain't 'alf an hour since I left 'im. 
 Forgive me, my lady, but you 'ave one of the best 
 sons in England ; an' that's honest. 'E's one to 
 be proud on, 'e is. Wot did I say, my lady ? 'E 
 wouldn't peach, not 'e." 
 
 Since Eve first looked into her baby's eyes and 
 saw perfection, no mother was ever offended by a 
 compliment to her child. 
 
 " Perhaps you are right," said Lady Twickham. 
 " And since you have adopted the complimentary 
 strain, let me say you have one of the best wives in 
 England." 
 
 She glanced at Jenny, who stood in dumb, burning 
 confusion, and with a look in her eyes as if pleading 
 to be spared. Dick turned deliberately and surveyed 
 his wife. 
 
 "Yes, my lady," he said, "Jenny be Ai ; an' it 
 ain't no joke bein' wife to a workin' man as has 
 served 'is country in the army an' can't get a job in 
 consequence."
 
 Mine on tbe Xces 113 
 
 " A struggle, I daresay," observed her ladyship 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " A rough sea an' a lee shore, my lady, that's wot it is." 
 
 " Well — well, you look after her and be kind to her, 
 and — and perhaps the rough sea and the lee shore 
 wouldn't be so terrible if the captain remembered 
 to keep sober." 
 
 Dick laughed heartily at the jest. 
 
 " I dunno, my lady," he cried ; " but if Twickham's 
 ale wasn't so good capn's wouldn't drink so much." 
 
 " Let us get to the carriage, my dear," said Lady 
 Twickham to her companion, and beat what to 
 Dick seemed an unaccountably precipitate retreat. 
 
 When the back of the fat coachman was lost in the 
 surge of the street, Dick turned into Paradise Court, 
 feeling as if the place really merited its name. To his 
 intense joy it was full of people, and he strutted to 
 his own stair-foot gloriously exalted. During the 
 ceremonial interview with the great lady. Paradise 
 Court had flocked to doors and windows, all eyes and 
 ears. When the vision of wealth vanished, it trooped 
 into the open, cellar and garret and all between 
 contributing their sluts and frowsy lords, who 
 simmered about Dick and Jenny, questioning, ex- 
 claiming, and exhaling baleful odours. Jenny crept 
 through the press of leering night-birds, anxious to 
 escape to to her own room. But Dick tarried to be 
 lionised. He let it be known that the great lady, 
 who was richer than the Bank of England, represented 
 Twickham's ale, and there were cries about his luck. 
 He would remember them when free samples arrived 
 wouldn't he ? He knew they loved him. A few 
 were disposed to be satirical ; and to them Dick 
 intimated his perfect willingness to fight then or 
 later, the beaten man to treat all round. 
 
 " Me an' Lady Twickham's son is friends," he said 
 trenchantly ; " an' the man as rubs the wrong way 
 
 8
 
 114 Mine on tbc Xees 
 
 will fight, or my name ain't Dick Goodman." With 
 which intimation he passed to his eyry. In the 
 twilight of the stair he came upon little Loo, her 
 cheeks monstrously tattooed, and her mouth so full of 
 chocolate she could not speak. Snatching her up, he 
 carried her aloft to Jenny, who was waiting timidly 
 and rather doubtfully. 
 
 " Say, Jen," he cried, depositing the child on the 
 bed, " fortin's a-flowin'. 'Ope you milked the old cow 
 proper. How much ? " 
 
 " A little, Dick, for Loo. She says the child's 
 starvin' for want of clothes." 
 
 A swift change of expression came into Dick's face. 
 
 "Come, that ain't good enough," he said. "A 
 little — small silver, so to speak. I'll lay it's gold ; 
 come, plank out." 
 
 " She said it was to get Loo clothes, Dick, and 
 was very particular in sayin' that if Loo didn't get 
 clothes, we needn't expect nothing more from her." 
 
 " Is she your 'usband, or am I ? " demanded Dick. 
 " When I married you, the bargain was that you was 
 to love an' obey. This is how ye do it. It'll save 
 trouble if you fork out just as lively as you know 'ow." 
 
 She looked in his eyes, and saw they meant obedi- 
 ence, instant and absolute. So turning to a shelf in 
 the corner, she took half a sovereign from a broken 
 cup and handed it to him. Once she would have 
 shed tears over the compulsion, but now she only 
 compressed her lips as she contemplated the ragged 
 Loo. Something had come to pass, something so 
 audacious and terrible that the first thought of it 
 froze her. But she had grown accustomed to it, and, 
 after a hot and agitating debate with herself, had 
 resolved upon measures of which Dick little dreamed. 
 P'or the first time in her life she was playing the 
 hypocrite, resolutely and with malice prepense. Lady 
 Twickham had bestowed two half-sovereigns ; and
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 115 
 
 come of it what might, Jenny was resolved to keep 
 one of them for Loo. For she had been driven to 
 the point when a child's hunger is harder to endure 
 than a husband's wrath. Dick might, indeed, get the 
 half-sovereign ; but it would only be by trampling on 
 her dead body, she told herself. So she handed him 
 the coin, not with tears, but with tight lips and a 
 look which might have warned Dick not to rely too 
 much on a woman's docility when fighting for her 
 child. But he did not notice, so eager was he to 
 clutch the gold. 
 
 " There ye are," he said, beaming like the sun after 
 thunder. " Didn't I say it was a yellow 'un ? " 
 
 In the joy of handling it, he forgot Jenny's reluct- 
 ance to deliver it up, and was disposed to be generous. 
 
 "Jen," he continued, the last note of harshness 
 dropping from his voice, " I said you was to obey ; 
 that was the bargain, old gel — that was the bargain ; 
 but I goes a step for'ard an' says we're partners, you 
 an' me — partners, Jen, in this 'ere concern called life. 
 You 'ave yer good points ; an' though an angel 
 was to say contrariwise, I ain't without'n bad uns. 
 There, that's straight. But we're partners. Only I'm 
 the senior partner, boss, 'usband ; an' wot I says 
 is, divide fair. You ain't a nagger ; you loves Loo — 
 nat'ril ; so do I. Partners again. An' you don't 
 nag — that's your chief wirtue, you ain't a nagger. 
 If you was to nag like some wives " 
 
 He thrust his hand into his pocket and brought 
 out some silver. 
 
 " There's five bob, 'alf an' 'alf, fair and square. 
 Now kiss yer 'usband, Jen." 
 
 Women, says a sage, arc the most puzzlingly 
 inconsistent of all God's creations. The tears, which 
 would not come when Dick was hard, came when 
 he was kind. 
 
 And he never knew what a victory he had won.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 DICK was no less disappointed than astonished 
 by the suddenness of Lady Twickham's 
 retreat. The charm, as he told himself, was just 
 beginning to work ; they were just beginning to 
 understand each other ; when lo ! she turned tail 
 and fled. An artist and man of the world he 
 perfectly understood the value of first impressions, 
 and he fancied that, when negotiations were so 
 abruptly broken off, he was in a fair way to 
 conquest. Nor was he wholly mistaken. The shock 
 of encountering him was, indeed, to Lady Twick- 
 ham's sensitive nerves, like the shock of meeting a 
 lion on the prowl. For a moment it was impossible 
 to imagine what the appalling apparition would do. 
 But when she recovered herself, she did not find 
 Mr. Goodman quite the desperate creature her 
 imagination had painted him from nods, hints, and 
 shakings of the head. In fact, the scamp grew upon 
 her while she studied him, as he grew upon so many 
 others, who felt that their abhorrence of so dire 
 a character ought to be bitter and uncompromising. 
 
 True, he bore upon him the unmistakable signs 
 of depravity. Wastrel and prodigal were writ large 
 on his countenance ; and the expression of the whole 
 man told as plainly as could be that he held her 
 dearest creeds in ridicule. It was hard to believe 
 he was destined for her Heaven ; but it was almost 
 equally hard to imagine him consigned to penal fires. 
 
 ii6
 
 Mine on tbe Xees n? 
 
 Her judgment, in a word, was on the balance ; so that, 
 but for a trifling slip on his part, the interview might 
 have been prolonged with the happiest consequences. 
 Unluckily for himself, he stumbled upon a word which 
 was rigorously excluded from Lady Twickham's 
 vocabulary. She never allowed beer to be mentioned 
 in her presence. Even an oblique reference by the 
 privileged MacTor to the cause of Twickham's great- 
 ness nearly cost him her friendship. It was not 
 likely, therefore, that Dick's transgression would be 
 tolerated. 
 
 She went off with a compressed mouth, and a 
 feeling of resentment tingling in her gentle heart. 
 Why should this creature of the slums throw beer 
 in her face? 
 
 " A lost character, I'm afraid," she remarked to her 
 companion — " I greatly fear, a lost character. What 
 a face, my dear — what a face ! " 
 
 " Yes, there's a deal of Twickham in that face," 
 was the companion's thought ; but, being politic, she 
 said : " To vary the words of Antony to his Serpent 
 of Old Nile,— 
 
 ' I am sure, 
 Though he may guess what temperance should be, 
 He knows not what it is.' 
 
 Don't you think. Lady Twickham," she pursued, 
 " he's a fair epitome of the mass that is dragging 
 down our social fabric ? " 
 
 " I fear," answered Lady Twickham — " I fear you 
 are right. You have a wonderful gift, my dear — quite 
 a wonderful gift of hitting the nail on the head. But 
 what's to be done ? " 
 
 " What you are doing, Lady Twickham. It's the 
 sole hope of redemption. If the rich do not save 
 the poor, then the poor will certainly destroy the 
 rich. Morality, beneficence, knowledge must take
 
 ii8 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 pity, active pity, on immorality, cruelty, ignorance, 
 or we are lost." 
 
 She smiled piquantly, in relish of her own 
 magniloquence. 
 
 " There's the Church," said Lady Twickham, with 
 a musing air. 
 
 " The Church, Lady Twickham — the Church ! 
 How can you be satirical ? " 
 
 " Satirical ? " echoed Lady Twickham, arching her 
 eyebrows — " satirical ? My dear, I don't understand 
 you." 
 
 Her companion could not suppress a smile of 
 amusement. 
 
 " When you threatened to bring the Rev. Bartemeus 
 Quince down on Goodman's head, I really thought 
 you were jesting." 
 
 " Jesting ! " cried Lady Twickham, raising herself 
 and facing round on her companion — "jesting! My 
 dear Miss Lush, what do you mean?" 
 
 " Only this, Lady Twickham — that in the work of 
 regeneration I fancied we had got beyond the Church. 
 It seems to me the Church, which never learned to 
 lead, has forgotten how to drive. It's no longer the 
 bogey it was frightening sinners to repentance." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear it — very sorry indeed." 
 
 " The world advances, dear Lady Twickham. 
 Will you bear with a personal reminiscence? As a 
 little girl I stood in mortal terror of the parson. To 
 my infantile mind he was a sort of spiritual police- 
 man, whose office it was to bag sinners, especially 
 little sinners, for that place of torment which theolo- 
 gians have since happily done away with." 
 
 " Done away with ? " struck in Lady Twickham — 
 " done away with ? " 
 
 " Yes ; abolished, you know, as a barbarism unworthy 
 of a refined age and an enlightened race." 
 
 " Eternal punishment a barbarism," cried Lady
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 119 
 
 Tvvickham. " What next ? I am sure the Bishop 
 of Blockley would never countenance such a frivolous 
 idea. Depend upon it, those who meddle with such 
 matters will get burnt fingers for their pains. Well, 
 Hades is gone ; is Heaven to follow, may I ask ? " 
 
 " That remains to be seen. One can only say 
 that, speaking generally, the parson seems to be 
 much more concerned about the present than the 
 future. The other evening, at one of dear Lady 
 Bclmore's Gospel meetings, a downy curate socially 
 laid himself out for a flirtation, poor boy." 
 
 " With you ? " 
 
 " He designed to honour me." 
 
 " Shocking ! " cried Lady Twickham, so vigorously 
 that the lackey in front swung round like a mechanical 
 toy to see what was wrong, and at sight of her lady- 
 ship's face instantly swung back again, kicking his 
 companion's shin to apprise him of the state of affairs — 
 " shocking ! Abominable ! The wretch ! — I hope you 
 punished him." 
 
 " Indeed, he was too pathetic for punishment. He 
 seemed such a novice among the vortices of London, 
 and so touchingly anxious to be in the fashion, 
 that I thought of the poor fellow's mother, and 
 forgot to be angry. Besides, he was really very 
 amusing." 
 
 "A curate amusing!" said Lady Twickham in 
 disgust — " a curate amusing ! The abandoned wretch 
 — he ought to be a low comedian, not a clergy- 
 man. Mark me, there's dire retribution in store for 
 him. Sec if he doesn't come to grief." 
 
 " I understand the odds are the other way at 
 present," returned Miss Lush, with one of her mean- 
 ing smiles. " He's well thought of by his superiors. 
 I heard him called a very good fellow, whatever the 
 significance of that may be. Oh ! he'll have a fat 
 living one of these days. If he plays his cards well,
 
 120 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 who knows but he'll be on the Bench yet ? The 
 Church feeds such lambs choicely and with care." 
 
 " I am astonished ! " said Lady Twickham, falling 
 back into her place. "You both amaze and grieve 
 me, Miss Lush. 1 hope I shall not live to see the 
 desecrations you appear to predict. We don't want 
 amusing curates who try to get up flirtations with 
 handsome and clever young ladies." She inclined 
 her head towards Miss Lush. " Pleasantries of that 
 sort, however pardonable among laymen, are scandal- 
 ous in clergymen — scandalous, nothing less. As for 
 Goodman, I shall certainly send Mr. Quince to him. 
 Mr. Quince, at least, is not amusing, and does not 
 flirt with popular lady novelists." 
 
 Miss Lush remembered that Mr. Quince had a 
 wife and thirteen young Quinces. 
 
 " I am afraid to picture his reception," she said. 
 " Goodman seemed to resent the notion of a visit." 
 
 "The more reason for putting the Church on his 
 track. What else is to be done ? Unless," she 
 pursued, as if on a sudden inspiration — "unless, my 
 dear, you were to take up the mission yourself, and 
 use your great influence for him and his kindred. 
 I heard just the other day from Dr. Tinkle, who 
 knows everything, that fiction is fast superseding the 
 pulpit. He didn't like it ; but as he said, there it 
 is. In my young days we read stories for recreation, 
 dear, — Sir Walter, Dickens, and the rest. Now, I 
 understand, novels are read for edification. Suppose 
 you devote your next novel to Goodman and his 
 class. What a sermon you could preach, my dear 
 Miss Lush. You would have us all at your feet, 
 as usual." 
 
 Miss Lush smiled, unabashed by the flattery ; 
 for, as the most popular novelist of England, the 
 darling of boudoir and boarding-school, she was 
 accustomed to strong incense. It came to her every
 
 Mine on tbe Xees t2i 
 
 morninj^ in piles of perfumed letters, in newspaper 
 cuttings, and cheques of competitive publishers. As 
 a commercial speculation she was quoted at a 
 fabulous premium ; that is to say, she was reckoned 
 to be worth any six of her competitors. The 
 publisher who secured Laura Lush, author of half 
 a score colossal successes, for a title page, could 
 rub his hands in the sweet assurance of the envy 
 of all rivals. 
 
 It was feared the brilliant creature would presently 
 dissolve in the blaze of her own glory ; but the 
 fear was founded on ignorance of her character. 
 Adulation was to Miss Lush the most delectable 
 and potent tonic ; and advertisement the very breath 
 of life. She was a marvellous manager. Even 
 enemies, who poured contempt on her writings, 
 were compelled to admit her genius for business. 
 Those who scoffed most were readiest to read of 
 the scented paper and particular pens she used in 
 producing her masterpieces, the hours at which she 
 wrote, her style of penmanship, her tastes in meat, 
 drink, dress, am^usements, and religion, what she 
 admired, what she detested, what she believed, what 
 she refused to believe, and above and beyond all — 
 what she earned. Sober business men, dazzled by 
 Miss Lush's thousands, vowed to abandon stock- 
 broking and pawnbroking and money-lending and 
 grocery and haberdashery and company-promoting 
 and "take up" literature. Even the professions 
 were tempted and fell. Clergymen, physicians, 
 barristers, soldiers, sailors, scrambled for the flesh- 
 pots of fiction, only to find there was but one Laura 
 Lush. Hers alone was the magic which beguiles 
 to the unloosing of purse strings. 
 
 If she did not adorn all she touched, she made 
 it instantly popular. She took up theology, and lo ! 
 it was a fashionable hobby ; she glanced at transccn-
 
 122 Mine on tbc Xees 
 
 dentalism, and England was all soul ; she turned 
 to matrimony, and the ascendency of woman became 
 the passion of all the tough, masterful spinsters in the 
 land ; she depicted love's young dream, and all the 
 youths were Romeos and all the maidens Juliets. In 
 a word, she played upon the people as upon a many- 
 stringed instrument, evoking boundless emotion and 
 piles of coin of the realm. 
 
 The means by which she achieved this stupendous 
 vogue had all the simplicity of genius. As a woman 
 of the world she affected sprightly ways ; but as an 
 author she could have taught an owl gravity. " Not 
 poppy, nor mandragora, not all the drowsy syrups 
 of the world," could medicine the reader to better 
 effect than Miss Lush's books. A frivolous critic 
 professed to find in her success proof of the Hebrew 
 origin of the English people. " For," said he, " they 
 love unleavened bread." In truth, Miss Lush's 
 lucrative romances were a trifle doughy and hard 
 to digest. And precisely for that reason she gained 
 immense credit with the solemn, serious-minded 
 persons who are gratified by a mental indigestion, 
 who dote on the insoluble, and honour economy of 
 wit and a limitless lack of humour. 
 
 The pulpit, in spite of Miss Lush's private gibes, 
 was captivated. The great Tinkle himself preached 
 on her works, extolling them in a sermon which was 
 printed and given away gratis by her enterprising 
 publisher. The Rev. Bartemeus Quince, too, emulating 
 the good bishop, called her "divine" and " inspired " ; 
 and counselled his hearers to give their days and 
 nights to her writings. In fine, the Lush fever raged 
 like an epidemic, the cynical, satirical, and depraved 
 only escaping it. Is it any wonder that Lady 
 Twickham, who was not cynical, nor satirical, nor 
 depraved, caught the infection ? In spite of some 
 early misgivings she adored Miss Lush ; partly because
 
 "mine on tbe Xees 123 
 
 it is the right thing to associate oneself with genius, 
 when that is possible ; partly because the gifted 
 novelist was a popular idol ; and partly for reasons 
 which she did not herself understand. It was Miss 
 Lush who piloted her to Paradise Court and to other 
 courts and alleys which the two visited that after- 
 noon. For it all meant copy for the colossal work 
 which, all unsuspected by Lady Tvvickham, seethed 
 in Miss Lush's mighty brain. Dick was instantly 
 singled out for honour. The rascal had a touch of 
 originality ; and rascals with a touch of originality 
 are much too rare not to be seized upon by the 
 novelist in search of material. There were also 
 possibilities in Jenny and little Loo, and the stench 
 and slime and slang and wickedness in which they 
 and thousands like them existed. How she would 
 splash the grim, abandoned figures on the canvas. 
 Dante painted his Inferno on a narrow canvas with 
 a camel's hair brush ; she would use a window-mop 
 and paint in flaming strokes on the sky itself, so that 
 all men should see and shudder. When, therefore, 
 Lady Twickham, by a chance of telepathy, suggested 
 the slums, Miss Lush answered cooingly, " I think 
 I will." She did not add that already a dozen note- 
 books and half as many disused bonnet-boxes were 
 full of material to be dumped into the book. This 
 omission, however, may have been due to the fact 
 that the pair were hurrying up arrears of slumming 
 in order to prepare for other and higher events which 
 were at hand.
 
 Book III 
 
 125
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 VINCENT TVVICKHAM was about to play 
 two parts, cither of which is enough to make 
 a common head light — the part of parliamentary 
 candidate, and the part of bridegroom. From the 
 instant of his birth he was intended for the honour 
 and glory of public life ; and from the moment he 
 cast eyes on Lady Gwendoline at a ball in London 
 his fate as a bachelor was sealed. Twelve months 
 he sighed and burned, pleading with tongue and 
 eye for the consummation of his bliss. Then Lady 
 Gwendoline consented to make his felicity perfect. 
 Whereupon trustees talked settlements, in which the 
 Earl of Wegron, as parent and guardian, took the 
 closest personal interest, while attorneys looked to 
 legal deeds and documents. For when blood and 
 money are to be mingled for a long perspective of 
 generations, the union of two cooing souls becomes 
 something more than a sacrament ; it is a momentous 
 financial operation. 
 
 But before being admitted to Paradise, Vincent 
 must win political laurels. That was Lord Twick- 
 ham's edict ; and compared with Lord Twickham's 
 edicts the laws of the Medcs and Persians were lax. 
 Vincent was to go into the House of Commons to 
 protect beer. Not that the English people were 
 in the least likely to give up the national beverage ; 
 but it was high time that certain frothy fanatics, 
 who were screeching that beer was of the devil, 
 should be castigated and silenced. Moreover, it was 
 
 127
 
 128 Mine on tbe Xee5 
 
 rumoured that a venial Chancellor of the Exchequer 
 had in his mind's eye a scheme for squeezing yet 
 more revenue out of the over-taxed brewer. There- 
 fore, a champion must be ready for the dragons ; 
 and it was fitting he should bear the name of 
 Twickham. Nor did the prospect of a tilt with 
 chancellors and faddists displease Vincent. He liked 
 excitement ; he had a talent for publicity. At the 
 University Union he plucked the laurel from the 
 brow of pride. Later on, he figured on the hustings 
 in a way which drew compliments from ministers 
 and party managers. In a word, he was master 
 of that deadliest of weapons, the tongue, and took 
 a master's delight in its use. 
 
 A metropolitan constituency was selected by his 
 friends, a prior candidate, at a hint from headquarters, 
 promptly effacing himself The Twickhams, the 
 VVegrons, the MacTors, the Wraggs, and, let it 
 be added, the Goodmans, marshalled and fought 
 with the ardour which means victory. At stormy 
 meetings Dick was worth ten policemen. Wherever 
 there was sign of hostility, there he was, collaring 
 his man, and he gave no time for argument. When 
 the fight was won, Vincent thanked him in the 
 presence of a distinguished company ; and Tapley 
 taught him to appreciate champagne. MacTor, 
 too, tried him successfully with Scotch whiskey, 
 calling him a man and brother for the catholicity 
 of his taste in liquors, and quoting Burns to clinch 
 the sentiment. 
 
 " You don't know Burns, you God-forsaken bodies 
 of the south," cried MacTor, being exceedingly jubi- 
 lant, " and couldn't understand him if you did. Man, 
 listen to this, — 
 
 ' Lees me on drink, it gies us mair than either school or 
 college, 
 It kindles wit, it waukens lear, it pangs us fou o' knowledge.'
 
 Mine on tbe Xecs 129 
 
 God ! I'd give Robbie ten thousand a year to write 
 my advertisements — ^just to get merry once a week on 
 my whiskey and sing his feelings. The whiskey trade 
 lost a friend when Robbie died. Isn't he just grand ? 
 But it'll be lost on you." 
 
 " Lor'," cried Dick in return, " when I was a Black 
 Watch 'Ighlander ain't I laid down in barrack an' 
 camp a-listenin' to the blooming lingo ? " 
 
 " Have ye though," rejoined MacTor, beaming — 
 " have ye now ? Robbie was fashed with two of 
 the most amiable virtues that can warm the breast 
 of man : he loved the lasses — God bless them for all 
 the mischief they work ! — and he loved a glass of good 
 whiskey. What is more, he made the grandest poetry 
 that ever came out of human head on lasses and 
 whiskey. And in camp and barrack, my friend, you 
 lay listening to the bloomin' lingo." 
 
 " Yes," said Dick ; " Bob McCrae— 'im that's ser- 
 jeant-major now — 'e carried Burns as others would 
 carry the Bible. Not as the army crowds its knap- 
 sacks with Bibles ; but the 'Ighlanders they do go 
 luney on Burns." 
 
 " My man," said MacTor, with sudden solemnity, 
 " there's one thing that turns a Scotch stomach — and 
 that's taking sacred things in vain." 
 
 " I never seed the Scotch stomach as turned at 
 anything as 'appened to be going," retorted Dick. 
 " An', I tell ye, they fair worshipped Burns." 
 
 " That's better," said MacTor. 
 
 " Lor'," continued Dick, " I shall never forget one 
 night, when Bob an' me was new to the business, that 
 we was lyin' on the sands of old Egypt, an' the moon 
 was shinin', so's you'd think it was a great sea that 
 was ripplin' an' sparklin' away an' away right into 
 the sky itself, an' the hot smell of the dust was in our 
 noses an' the thing itself in our throats, an' we could 
 'ear the gruntin' of the camels on the other side
 
 I30 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 of the Zareba, an' see the bayonets of the sentries — 
 English steel in Pharaoh-land, flashin' and gleamin'. 
 Well, Bob he lays down on his back an' looks up 
 at the stars kind of 'ome-sick, same stars as Job an' 
 Abra'm an' them other ancient chaps used to gaze 
 at, he said, when Moses was wallopin' the Egyptians 
 same as us, an' he began to say private, like, to 'imself, 
 Burns's ' Soldier's Return.' An' 'longside 'im was 
 stretched an old 'Ighlander, Donald MacDonald, as 
 'ad killed men of most colours under 'Eaven in 'Er 
 Majesty's interest, an' slep' on worse beds than the 
 sands of Egypt — 'caps of 'em. An' when Bob 'ad 
 finished his poetry, he says in a sickish kind of voice, 
 as if he wanted to see his mother, ' Donald,' says 'e, 
 * think of the thousands away beyond the seas who's 
 thinkin' of us this night' An' Donald, never turnin' 
 an eye, says back, ' An' think of the millions who don't 
 care a damn. Sleep, ye fool.' " 
 
 " Capital ! " cried MacTor — " capital ! I honour 
 both men. And, let me tell you, your friend Bob 
 would be none the worse soldier for his bit of senti- 
 ment. Laugh as you like," to the company at large, 
 " but I can't go back on sentiment. It's the one point 
 on which my friend, Lord Twickham, and I don't 
 agree. He simply won't admit the thing at all. 
 I say it rules the world. What, I ask, would become 
 of whiskey if sentiment were dead ? Tapley," in a 
 significant aside, " your protigfs decidedly interest- 
 ing. We must see what can be done for him." 
 
 Having got into Parliament, Vincent proceeded to 
 the more serious business of taking a wife. His legs 
 had not reposed a month on the classic benches of 
 the House when the social event of the season was 
 celebrated with the ^clat due to the son and heir 
 of the Ciusar of the brewing trade and the daughter 
 of the Earl of Wegron. The Bishop of Blockley 
 made the twain one, being assisted in the operation
 
 Mine on tbc Xecs 131 
 
 by the Rev. Rartemeus Quince and the Rev. Dichory 
 Bird. Society, under the auspices of Royalty itself, 
 glorified the proceedings with its presence ; then 
 retired to discuss and criticise. For a motherless 
 girl with no dowry but her blood (and that getting 
 thin), Lady Gwendoline, it was admitted, had done 
 exceedingly well — had, in fact, landed a prize. Specu- 
 lative mammas with the best girls in England to 
 dispose of, forthwith began to look round the peerage 
 and baronetage for similar prizes. The fact that they 
 are rare and hard to capture made Lady Gwendoline's 
 achievement all the more striking. 
 
 While the envied pair made Heaven of a castle 
 by the sea, lent for the honeymoon by a friend of the 
 bride's family. Lord Tvvickham made over the title- 
 deeds of a furnished house in Berkeley Square against 
 their return to London and cvery-day existence. 
 Lady Twickham saw that it was fit for her son's 
 wife, spending a fortnight in daily examinations and 
 harassings of tradesmen ; then turned to her arrears 
 of charity — with the aid of the indispensable Lush. 
 
 All this time Dick lived and moved and had his 
 being in an element of which he had dreamed in his 
 more imaginative moments, but dared not hope for 
 as a reality. Now that he was actually in a Canaan 
 flowing with infinitely better things than milk and 
 honey, he could scarcely credit his own luck, though 
 he felt the enjoyment was too deep for doubt. The 
 liquor was excellent in quality and overwhelming in 
 quantity. He need never be thirsty or go to bed 
 sober — which, to tell the truth, he seldom did. Some- 
 times, in face of expert warning, he mixed drinks, 
 and then it required all Tapley's fi)iesse and innumer- 
 able half-crowns to keep him out of the police-courts. 
 He was himself dimly conscious of the risks. 
 
 " Tottie," he said one day, " if anything 'appens, 
 you're solid, ain't you ? "
 
 132 'Mine on tbe Xecs 
 
 " As granite," answered Tapley. 
 
 " Then," said Dick, " I may drink with an easy 
 mind. Only remember, Tottie, that when I'm proper 
 boozed I ain't no kid to put to bed. For Gawd's 
 sake, look out I don't hit you. Once I nearly did for 
 my best friend in that way. As for you hittin' me — 
 fire away, it don't matter." 
 
 There was but a single small cloud in the sky— but 
 it was very black. One day his patron was surprised 
 to find Dick gloomy and resentful. 
 
 Why, what's the matter ? " asked Tapley, scruti- 
 nising Dick's sour face. 
 
 "Wot's the matter?" echoed Dick. "Why, ain't 
 Lady Twickham gone an' sent one of them Bible 
 sharps to spy on me ? 'E's been at my snoozin'-box 
 with the lady as puts us blokes in 'er bloomin' books 
 to be laughed at. I say it ain't fair on a cove." 
 
 " I commiserate you," said Tapley feelingly. " I 
 do, upon my soul. A parson and a woman-novelist — 
 too bad, too bad ! They didn't catch you." 
 
 " Wish they 'ad," returned Dick. " For wot does 
 the snipes go an' do ? They slings such nonsense at 
 my missus's 'ead 'bout 'Eaven, an' 'Ell, an' the kid, an' 
 the risks we was runnin', an' that kind o' muck that 
 she cried fit to bust. She throwed herself round my 
 neck, blubberin' ' Oh Dick ! this, an' oh Dick ! that ; 
 an' passon says as we're goin' straight to perdition 
 'cept you mend your 'abits,' says she. ' An' oh ! 
 will you ? ' says she, ' an' give up that drink that's 
 a-ruinin' us ? ' That's the comfort passon brings on 
 a cold day, peltin' to perdition like an igspress train. 
 I ain't goin' to stand it. If 'c comes back there'll 
 be an inquest." 
 
 He didn't mention that he took prompt and 
 vigorous measures to disabuse Jenny's mind of the 
 parson's heresies, and that in consequence her head 
 was in bandages.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 133 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Tapley, " not so serious — not so 
 serious. If you only knew what I have suffered from 
 parsons. The best parson ever made isn't worth a 
 drubbing. Besides, you know, the poor devils must 
 earn their bread somehow. If they frighten women 
 and children — well, the harm's not great. Don't you 
 worry ; I'll speak to Twickham when he's over the 
 honeymoon. Meantime, I want a little practice with 
 the gloves, and you'll give wrinkles, won't you? And 
 some of my friends would like similar exercise." 
 
 Thereupon Dick was presented to some of the 
 choicer spirits of the Royal Olympian as a modest 
 but accomplished and very worthy professor of the 
 great art. 
 
 On hearing this. Velvet Chick swore he'd be 
 eternally lost if he could make out what the world 
 was coming to when a chump-'ead like Goodman was 
 made the tutor and bosom friend " of lords an' gentle- 
 men as calls themselves sportsmen." It was time for 
 decent people to put up the shutters and retire from 
 business. That night he got drunk in mortal disgust, 
 and was put to bed muttering a vow to " bash " Dick 
 " so's his mother wouldn't know 'im." All the same, 
 Dick continued his course of gaiety undisturbed by 
 threats. He patronised Mr. Wragg and Mr. Wragg's 
 friends at the Bear and Cubs, receiving in return trie 
 honours he most appreciated. He went to the 
 Ruggler Den, and Tommy Binks and his brother 
 Rugglers joyously did the hospitable. He gave his 
 countenance to music-halls and theatres of variety, 
 sometimes alone, sometimes as aide-de-camp to Tapley, 
 who liked the livelier forms of drama when the per- 
 formers were attractive and agreeable. With Tapley, 
 too, he went to some of MacTor's balls to barmaids, 
 the pair practically taking the frolic incog. For the 
 rest, he kept to himself such secrets as might trouble 
 his wife if she knew them, attended loyally on Tapley
 
 134 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 took his liquor like the prince of good fellows he was, 
 and looked to MacTor for the fulfilment of his 
 promise. 
 
 P'or the present, however, that gentleman had other 
 business in hand. MacTor's Scotch whiskey had 
 reached the company point ; that is to say, it had 
 been boomed and pushed as high and as far as puffing 
 and advertising of various ingenious kinds would send 
 it. Profits had been whipped up with magnificent 
 results. Mr. MacTor, in fact, found the time ripe 
 for securing to himself the full benefit of his shrewd- 
 ness, enterprise, and foresight. The public was, 
 therefore, to be invited to secure an interest in the 
 finest whiskey that ever made man merry. So one 
 morning, towards the close of his honeymoon, Vincent 
 learned that long floating rumours had at last 
 crystallised to fact. The MacTor was converting 
 himself into a limited liability company, with a 
 capital of a million sterling. 
 
 The board was attractively aristocratic, for titles 
 on boards pay. Lord Twickham was chairman, 
 and associated with him were the Earl of Wegron 
 and other nobles of illustrious name and lineage. 
 Mr. MacTor himself appeared modestly at the bottom 
 as managing director. It was not without diplomacy 
 and a considerable expenditure in hard cash that 
 he managed to adorn the front page of his prospectus 
 with so many peers of the realm. One of the hardest 
 to secure was the Earl of Wegron. It was not 
 suggested that he knew anything whatever of the 
 spirit trade, nor that he had the least knowledge 
 of commerce in general ; but his name was invaluable. 
 When the subject of directorship was first mooted, 
 his lordship cast a very meaning look at MacTor. 
 " You wish to have me ? " he said ; and on receiving a 
 reply in the affirmative, " Then, by Heaven ! MacTor, 
 you must pay for me — that's all."
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 135 
 
 " Of course — of course, my lord," chirped MacTor, 
 and the bargain was struck. 
 
 Lord Twickham was a heavy purchaser, because 
 he had in mind a great scheme — a scheme by which 
 beer and whiskey should be under one control. When 
 Vincent returned, his father presented him with a 
 quarter of a million MacTor shares, remarking, " I 
 have done my fair share of work. Your turn comes 
 now. Consolidate the businesses ; control beer and 
 whiskey ; and you may dictate to kings and ministers." 
 
 And that night Vincent dreamed of the greatest 
 conbination of its kind the world had ever seen ; for 
 he too, was, ambitious.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE gods, as wise men know, make no mistakes. 
 In singling out the Earl of Wegron's lovely and 
 high-spirited daughter to be the wife of the richest 
 young man in England, they understood very well, 
 the shrewd humorists, what they were about. They 
 were aware that, endowed with youth, beauty, talent, 
 ambition, the charms of blood, the bewitchment of 
 gold, and a worshipping husband, a woman is irre- 
 sistible ; and Lady Gwendoline was nothing less. To 
 say she kept her " booth in Mayfair with the rest, to 
 happy issues," is to state a great fact weakly. On 
 wakening from the trance of the honeymoon, she 
 returned to Society resolved on conquest, Vincent 
 following enchanted at the heels of his fate. She 
 glided into action, a vision of radiant fortune, turning 
 many heads. It is a delectable experience, after the 
 rigours of fashionable poverty, to find oneself in 
 possession of a Fortunatus' purse. Lady Gwendoline, 
 forced all her life to practise secret and shameful 
 economy and self-denial, found it deliciously intoxi- 
 cating. Nevertheless, she kept her head, rising to her 
 opportunities as superbly as a young queen rises to a 
 throne. 
 
 In spirit, enterprise, and the priceless gift of pomp, 
 she had, perhaps, but one serious rival — the brilliant 
 Lady Tonkley, wife of Lord Tonkley, the gouty 
 hanger-on of diplomacy. Lady Tonkley was the 
 only child of a greasy-fisted oil-boss in Illinois; but 
 
 136
 
 THUine on tbe Xees 137 
 
 there was no oil on the daughter's almond hands. 
 That had been well washed off before she crossed the 
 Atlantic to conquer England with her dollars, her 
 wit, her vivacity, and her wonderful eyes. No one 
 had ever discerned a heart in her, perhaps because it 
 was so richly encrusted with gold and gems. Nor 
 was it pretended that she loved the rather dilapidated 
 Tonkley ; but she and the oil-boss of Illinois thought 
 he might be a family adornment, and she married 
 him. The Earl of Wegron himself had once his eye 
 on her ; but while he was making enquiries on the 
 financial side, Tonkley sailed in and won. The thing 
 was settled in Paris ; and Lord Wegron, who was fast 
 coming to the scratch, was both amazed and disgusted. 
 
 " Who'd have expected it of Tonkley ? " he said to 
 a brother peer, who was also on the look out for an 
 heiress. " A confounded, worn-out old scrub like that 
 walking off with two millions sterling from under 
 your very nose — two millions, if a farthing, the lucky 
 beggar ! The taste of a woman is the most incom- 
 prehensible thing ever created to vex man. What 
 she saw in him, I can't imagine, seeing what she 
 might have had." 
 
 "Just so," said the other, looking in the withered 
 face of Wegron. 
 
 " Well," pursued the discomfited lover, " it would 
 be a devilishly risky thing to marry first and look to 
 the finances afterwards. I lost the trick ; but damme ! 
 I played according to Hoyle." 
 
 " I think I'd have reneged," replied the other 
 thoughtfully. " I wish I had had your chance." 
 
 " I wish I had it over again," said Wegron ruefully. 
 
 The two ladies, who had made casual acquaintance 
 in the course of a London season, after marriage 
 became bosom friends — and rivals. But, in spite of 
 Lady Tonklej-^'s dash, it was Lady Gwendoline who
 
 138 TKaine on tbe Xees 
 
 set the pace. She entertained magnificently, gamed a 
 Httle, travelled, shot, hunted, was a peerless whip, 
 and an unfailing attraction at charitable and religious 
 bazaars. Parsons blessed her publicly and effusively ; 
 all other men adored her, jostling each other for a 
 smile, or a token from those dark eyes, which could 
 be so significantly merry and so thrillingly soft. In 
 the art of cajolery the whole stage could have taught 
 Lady Gwendoline nothing. Many a verdant youth 
 got fatuous on her glances. Nor were older heads 
 exempt from her witchery. Lord Cheribink, who 
 was fifty if a day, and in a hot career of pleasure was 
 supposed to have exhausted himself and half the 
 capitals of Europe, came near causing a scandal. 
 Happily, Lady Gwendoline herself was the first to 
 perceive the danger, and switched the gallant off. 
 
 " If he'd been younger, my dear," she laughed to a 
 confidante, " or better preserved. But remnants or 
 things on crutches — no, thank you. These are for 
 Americans," and she smiled wickedly. 
 
 Many wondered how she came to marry Vincent 
 Twickham, who was " a good, sterling fellow, and all 
 that," but hardly the mate, it was surmised, for one 
 of Lady Gwendoline's adventurous disposition. 
 
 The ladies were reserved and critical. It shall not 
 be hinted they were jealous or envious. But they 
 certainly were soberer in their eulogies of the new 
 divinity than their lords and brothers. Lady 
 Twickham sighed softly as she watched her daughter- 
 in-law practising magic. TJiat had never been her 
 own way ; and in her heart the mother pitied the son 
 a little. He, poor boy, was blindly happy, proud 
 of his brilliant wife, whose face the winds of heaven 
 must not visit roughly. Her wishes were mandates ; 
 her very whims were sacred. Lady Twickham, 
 pondering as a mother will when her son is concerned, 
 prayed the happiness might continue.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 139 
 
 " Perhaps," she thought — " perhaps, as she gets 
 used to money she'll learn repose, scdateness." 
 
 Perhaps, meantime, the card was filled with other 
 things. 
 
 Lady Gwendoline was not long in command of the 
 Twickham millions when she marched intrepidly on 
 Twickham Towers, attended by a glittering escort. 
 The family seat, she privately owned, lacked bright- 
 ness, smacked mustily of defunct custom, owing, 
 doubtless, to dear Lady Twickham's delicate health. 
 But under a capable substitute a swing with the tide 
 would exhilarate them all. Admiral Gwen hoisted 
 her flag, and immediately guests were gladdened by 
 the innovations of the new spirit. 
 
 The gaieties began at Christmas. Under Lady 
 Twickham's rule, the Christian festival had always 
 been sacred to family gatherings. Lady Gwendoline 
 introduced a variation. Consequently, her first 
 Christmas as a wife saw a large and distinguished 
 party gathered at Twickham Towers for such enter- 
 tainment as ready brain and limitless purse can 
 provide. Lady Twickham, looking on with folded 
 hands, supposed young people must be young ; but 
 was not without qualms and inward protests. Lord 
 Twickham, who had a robuster taste in pleasure, 
 thought it refreshing to watch youth having an 
 innocent fling. 
 
 " They'll be old soon enough, God knows ! " he 
 said — " they'll be old soon enough." 
 
 " Yes, dear ! " sighed Lady Twickham, and made for 
 her own quarters to nurse a nervous headache and 
 imbibe the balmy, healing thoughts of her dear Bishop 
 of Blockley. That saintly divine and writer was ever 
 a blessed refuge from the world and its follies. 
 
 Among the amusements planned by Lady 
 Gwendoline was a picturesque pastoral, in which she 
 herself impersonated with bewitching charm the
 
 I40 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 character of a lovely young shepherdess. A gay 
 cavalier (the young Lord Sickle, once Vincent's 
 rival), happening to set eyes on her, was smitten, and 
 instantly laid siege in the gallant manner of his order. 
 Vowing there did not breathe on earth another being 
 with half her loveliness, he proceeded to explain the 
 use love makes — of cruppers. He was holding her 
 hand ; and she, blushing coyly and very prettily, with 
 eyes on the ground, was murmuring questions about 
 the faith of men, when there entered her shepherd 
 swain, Reginald Twickham, not over ardent in his 
 part. Immediately she forsook the honeyed cavalier, 
 and running to her own true love, threw herself in 
 his arms with caresses meant to wring the heart of 
 the other. To her amazement she felt him shudder. 
 She caressed him more tenderly, whispering sweet 
 things in his ear ; but the shepherd, who had a 
 heavy and troubled brow, shuddered again. The 
 next moment they were in the wings. 
 
 " Why, you naughty boy," she exclaimed, " what 
 is the matter with you ? Has the love scene upset 
 you, dear ? " 
 
 Reginald bluntly told her not to be a donkey, and 
 involuntarily put his hand to his head. As he did 
 so, she saw him shiver violently. 
 
 " My poor Reggy, you are ill ! " she cried. 
 
 " Beastly queer," he answered vaguely. " Gwen, I 
 thought you'd never have done messing in there. I 
 can't go on again." 
 
 He was sent to his mother, and another shepherd 
 was improvised, for Lady Gwendoline was not to be 
 cheated out of the splendid scene at the end, which 
 showed her torn between love and duty. When it 
 came, a long round of applause, ringing along corridor 
 and hall, testified the delight of the audience.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE sound of cheering fell discordantly on the 
 ear of Dr. Freeson, the family physician, hastily 
 summoned from St. Edmund, as he passed swiftly to 
 Lady Tvvickham's private room. There he found her 
 ladyship, crouched on a sofa, with Reginald's head 
 in her lap. She greeted him quietly, but he, who 
 knew her better than she knew herself, noted the 
 trouble of the drawn mouth and anxious eyes. 
 Reginald breathed quickly and uneasily, complained 
 of his head, and shivered, in spite of himself 
 
 " This is sudden, doctor," said his mother softly. 
 
 The doctor answered with some of the cheering 
 words which the profession gets off by heart, asked 
 a few questions, and proceeded to examine the patient. 
 The disease, however, was not ripe for diagnosis. 
 For the present, therefore, they were justified in con- 
 cluding the ailment was simply a chill, which would 
 pass off under proper treatment ; but in his own 
 mind the doctor said " typhus." 
 
 "You brought him through measles and scarlet 
 fever. Dr. Freeson," said her ladyship plaintively. 
 
 The doctor admitted that honour had been his. 
 
 "It cannot be a recurrence of either of those diseases, 
 then," continued Lady Twickham. " I am afraid this 
 may be serious — inflammation of the lungs or some- 
 thing of that sort. Reginald was always so careless 
 of himself" 
 
 The doctor assured her there was no sign of lung 
 trouble, and got Reginald off to bed, at the same time 
 
 141
 
 142 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 despatching a messenger for medicines, with orders 
 not to spare his horse. When the patient had had 
 his first dose, the doctor, looking in Lady Twickham's 
 face, said very kindly, — 
 
 " There is no cause for alarm ; but as I am old- 
 fashioned enough to desire all my errors to be on the 
 safe side, I am going to send at once for a nurse from 
 London. It is best to have a skilled person in 
 attendance." 
 
 " Is he feverish ? " asked Lady Twickham, the first 
 real note of alarm in her voice. 
 
 " Just a little," answered the doctor. 
 
 Lady Twickham's nervous headache was gone, and 
 with it her long prevailing languor. She would herself 
 be nurse. Yes ; she would attend her boy. She 
 would think he was really ill if a nurse appeared. A 
 physician who means to shine must study diplomacy 
 as well as medicine. With the tact of an expert in 
 feminine humours, Dr. Freeson made an appeal for 
 one patient at a time. On no consideration must her 
 ladyship be fatigued or deprived of sleep. She would 
 forgive him for being stringent on that point, and 
 relieving her of the direct care of Reginald. Lord 
 Twickham, being called in to counsel, sided emphati- 
 cally with the doctor. So a nurse was procured from 
 London ; and privately the doctor warned her to send 
 for him instantly, at any hour of the day or night, 
 should a suspicious change be noticed in the patient. 
 
 Next day he was early at Twickham Towers, and 
 the diagnosis said " typhus " with added clearness. 
 Yet for twenty-four hours more he kept the secret, 
 hoping against hope that science might be mistaken. 
 Then facts, becoming indisputable, were discreetly 
 divulged. 
 
 Lady Twickham, being extremely nervous, and 
 therefore capable of amazing heroism, astonished them 
 all by her fortitude. Typhus ; people died of typhus.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 143 
 
 Their duty was to see that Reginald didn't die of it. 
 She relied on Dr. Freeson, and composed her mind 
 for waiting and watching. It was then that Lady 
 Gwendoline showed her mettle. Though keenly 
 regretting the sudden scattering of guests and con- 
 sequent cessation of gaieties, she stepped quietly 
 beside Lady Twickham, saying they would see to 
 "dear Reggy together." Nor was she a whit less 
 noble than her word, though assailed by vehement 
 protests against running foolish risks. 
 
 " I am foolish at best," she laughed, with the 
 candour that wins hearts. " Let me for once be 
 foolish in a good cause, and see what comes of it." 
 
 There and then Lady Twickham took her to a 
 mother's heart. 
 
 Day by day for a week Dr. Freeson reported that 
 the fever was taking a normal course. Then, one 
 evening, he looked grave and anxious, questioned the 
 nurse closely, and in the end advised calling in the 
 family's London physician. Lord Twickham asked 
 for particulars. Was Reginald's condition worse? 
 Not quite so well as could be wished. Was he 
 delirious? All fever patients get more or less 
 delirious. But was the delirium of an alarming 
 character ? There were signs it might so develop. 
 
 " Dr. Freeson," said Lord Twickham, " there's no 
 plucking at the counterpane, or grasping of imaginary 
 objects," and the look which came into the good 
 doctor's face sent the blood from Lord Twickham's. 
 
 " Wire for Dr. Houghton at once," said his lordship, 
 with difficulty keeping a steady voice — " at once — 
 at once. Do not lose a moment, and — and for the 
 present, keep it from the boy's mother." 
 
 That night Dr. Houghton made his diagnosis and 
 held a consultation with his colleague, the outcome 
 of which was a telegraphic summons to Sir William 
 Berkley, the famous specialist in zymotic diseases.
 
 144 'CCline on tbe Xees 
 
 When the telegram was written, Lady Gwendoline 
 discovered there would be no train for two hours. 
 
 "A special!" cried Lord Twickham — "a special! 
 Haste — haste." And a special conveyed the great 
 man as fast as express engine dared travel. 
 
 With his arrival a dread silence fell on the house, 
 as if its pulses paused in awe. After a word with 
 Lord and Lady Twickham (she would not be denied 
 an appeal for his best aid), he passed into the sick 
 chamber with the other doctors, and the door was shut. 
 Then it seemed the universe held its breath. How 
 still it was — how awfully still ! What was going on 
 behind that closed door ? What desperate fight was 
 the young life waging in the mists which enshrouded 
 and were choking it ? It could not be that death 
 would conquer. Lady Twickham told herself; the 
 good God would not permit that. Yet a deadly 
 fear and sickness were at her heart. Her face was 
 piteously white ; her twining fingers were trembling. 
 Oh ! what was going on beyond that door, through 
 which they would not let her pass ? Rachel weeping 
 for her children has moved the generations with pity. 
 But there is an agony more poignant than Rachel's — 
 the agony of waiting for the word which means life 
 or death. 
 
 To Lady Twickham that waiting was anguish un- 
 bearable. Hardly knowing what she did she ran for- 
 ward to demand admittance to the patient. Was 
 she not his mother? But the hands of husband 
 and daughter-in-law were lovingly upon her. No ; 
 she could not go in. Her presence might upset the 
 wavering balance. Then she would sit where she 
 could see the doctors as they came forth, and read her 
 boy's fate in their faces. So a chair was set for her 
 within view of the bed-room door, on which she kept 
 her eyes fastened. 
 
 Presently Sir William walked out, but his face was
 
 HClfne on tbe Xees 145 
 
 inscrutable. Familiar with death and the alternations 
 of human hope and despair, he knew how to keep 
 a blank countenance. There was another agony of 
 suspense while the physicians consulted. It was 
 well for Lady Twickham she did not hear, or hearing, 
 could not understand, the first word of the great 
 specialist on being alone with his colleagues. 
 
 " Floccitatw" he said quietly, and the others 
 sorrowfully nodded. 
 
 What science could do should be done, but a 
 higher Power was intervening. 
 
 Meantime, how tell Lord and Lady Twickham of 
 the thickening mists and the swiftly ebbing strength ? 
 It is the daily business of physicians to speak of 
 closing records, and a plan was soon devised — a 
 little hope and comfort to the mother ; to the father 
 the stern truth. So Sir William Berkley administered 
 a soothing draught to Lady Twickham, inducing her 
 to retire to her own apartment for needed rest. 
 Then Lord Twickham was taken aside. Softly, very 
 softly and tenderly, the verdict of science was de- 
 livered ; but under the quiet accents the strong 
 Lord Twickham. reeled. It was as if his ears were 
 confounded by the noise of a mighty explosion, and 
 though nothing but the composed face of the physician 
 was visible in the sudden chaos, he felt the world was 
 crashing about him. In that brain, which had been 
 calm in the maddest excitement, there arose a tumult 
 of whirring and beating as of machinery driven 
 beyond power of endurance. The long and ghastly 
 face twitched irresponsibly, and the nails were tearing 
 the palms of the hands. The whole world spun and 
 heaved in a desolating fog. 
 
 The specialist understood and waited. He knew 
 all the varied ways in which men take the death 
 sentence. So he watched for the recoil which comes 
 to the strong of will. It came suddenly. 
 
 10
 
 146 Wine on tbe %ccs 
 
 " I will not — cannot accept this as final," said Lord 
 . Twickham, struggling to compose himself. " You 
 will forgive me if I suggest another doctor from 
 London." 
 
 He named a man, like Sir William himself, of 
 European reputation. 
 
 " And Sir William," he proceeded, getting better 
 control of his voice, " see that you do not let any 
 consideration of expense stand in the way. Any- 
 thing, you understand — anything or anybody, but 
 save the boy." 
 
 Instinctively he fell back on the idea that to him 
 who can pay all things are possible. Couldn't 
 money command science, and science defeat death ? 
 It must be done — must, that was the only word to 
 be used. 
 
 The second specialist came, saw, and owned the 
 futility of medicine. Science had done its utmost ; 
 the case was now in other hands. The good Dr. 
 Freeson wept, and Dr. Houghton excused himself 
 from being present at the next interview with Lord 
 Twickham. 
 
 So the specialists, taking his lordship into a room 
 and setting him in a chair, told him what was come 
 upon him. On hearing their judgment, he looked at 
 them curiously, as though dazed, then all at once 
 bent forward, face in hands, groaning ; and to hear a 
 strong man groan shakes the heart of even a medical 
 specialist. The first spasm past, he sat silent, save 
 for one dry sob which would not be repressed, his 
 hands on his temples like the jaws of a vice. He 
 asked no questions ; but presently he rose, and 
 looking at the physicians, said almost in his ordinary 
 tones, — 
 
 " You'll stay, please, and sec the end." 
 
 With that he left them, going straight to the sick 
 chamber, from which they made no attempt to
 
 Mine on tbe Xeee 147 
 
 exclude him. Nor had the startled nurse heart to 
 make any protest. Greeting her very quietly, he 
 stepped to the bedside, took Reginald's limp hand, 
 and bending low, spoke caressingly in his ear. 
 Twice — thrice the words of endearment were re- 
 peated ; but Reginald did not hear. The nurse 
 watching awe-struck, saw the strong face writhe in 
 pain and the resolute mouth quiver. But Lord 
 Twickham seemed perfectly composed when, raising 
 himself, he turned and asked her, — 
 
 " Is he quite comfortable, nurse ? " 
 
 " Ye-s, my lord," she faltered. 
 
 " Then leave him for a little to me ; and see that 
 we are not disturbed." 
 
 With a cold thrill she went, and he locked the door 
 behind her. 
 
 When he appeared again, the doctors, stealthily 
 playing sentry, had no need to ask what ordeal he 
 had just gone through. There is a language of the 
 face more tragic than any words of the tongue ; and 
 Lord Twickham's face told he had lost something 
 precious, something that should not be restored within 
 " our bourne of time and place " — never while seasons 
 rolled and suns rose and set. But his manner was 
 serene. 
 
 " I am afraid," he said apologetically, " I have been 
 keeping you from your patient. But I don't think I 
 have disturbed him — I don't think I have." 
 
 With the step of one suddenly grown old he passed 
 along richly carpeted corridors to his own room. 
 There he changed his clothes for fear of carrying 
 infection, and that done, sought his wife to tell her 
 what was happening to them. 
 
 Next morning the darkened windows told the world 
 what had befallen Twickham Towers. It was hard 
 to believe that the great rich viscount, whose word 
 was as the mandate of a god, was subject to the
 
 148 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 common lot. But there were the desolate blinds, 
 wrapping the place in the awful, if familiar, gloom 
 and hush. St. Edmund gazed, speculating how the 
 proud man would take it, and if his poor lady were 
 heart-broken. The proud man took it in character- 
 istic manner. When the end came, and the specialists, 
 having failed, were preparing to hurry off, he took 
 them into the library and there, in a hand without a 
 tremor, wrote each of them his cheque. He was self- 
 possessed and courteous ; but scarcely grateful. They 
 had let his boy go ; and he knew their hearts were not 
 bleeding because his was cruelly bruised.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 VINCENT had little time to waste in grief for the 
 loss of a brother, very deeply, if also very 
 quietly, loved. From the family vault in St. Edmund 
 cemetery he went straight to the defence of his order 
 in Westminster. The occasion was felt to be urgent. 
 Covetous neighbours, fired to emulation by Albion's 
 trick of conquest, were insolently intriguing to slice up 
 the world against all sense of decorum or British 
 prerogative. The country, therefore, wanted more 
 warships to promote that wholesome fear of destruction 
 diplomatically called the comity of nations ; and the 
 Treasury, asked for an extra ten millions, bethought 
 itself of the possibilities of beer. The brewing trade 
 rose against the outrage ; and Vincent, as a con- 
 spicuous knight of the threatened industry, was called 
 to leadership. Primed and inspired by the astute 
 general, his father, he stood valiantly by the ancestral 
 guns, fighting with a rousing dash and ardour. But, 
 being young and excited, and righteously angry to 
 boot, he made the tactical mistake of trying to rush 
 the enemy. 
 
 While he was exposed, other foes fell upon him 
 suddenly and with disconcerting vigour, not because 
 they loved the Government, but because they hated 
 beer. The water-drinkers, a pale but combative and 
 vigilant sect, perceiving their chance, gathered for an 
 attack on the Twickham and allied interests. Against 
 the Treasury the issue was plain. Brewers were 
 
 149
 
 I50 mine on tbe Xees 
 
 already overtaxed ; wherefore, as Vincent easily 
 proved, it would be nothing less than monstrous to 
 make them pay for the new warships. But it was 
 quite another matter dealing with assailants who 
 introduced the element of morality, who asserted, 
 apparently with conviction, that drink is the mother 
 curse, and charged its makers and vendors with 
 debauching the people, tarnishing the national honour, 
 ruining homes, and sending souls to perdition. The 
 debate was adjourned in some excitement ; and 
 Vincent, tingling with indignation, retired to consider 
 the charge — a. pretty comprehensive one, it must be 
 admitted. 
 
 In the lobby his friends clustered about him with 
 congratulations and encouragement. Tapley wrung 
 his hand, praying fervently for a chance to aid in 
 " bowling over the blue-nosed votaries of the water- 
 bottle." The Earl of Wegron poured scorn upon 
 them, and Lord Twickham advised a judicious in- 
 difference. 
 
 " I have always made it a rule myself," he said to 
 his son, " to ignore faddists of every description. I 
 am content with the verdict of the people, and I 
 counsel you to take the same course. When you 
 hear wild talk about the iniquity of the drink traffic, 
 consult your ledgers and be consoled. Don't believe 
 off hand that the greatest nation the world has ever 
 seen is composed of fools. After a lifetime spent in 
 business, I found that, for all the babble of fanatics, 
 we sell never a gallon of beer the less." 
 
 " Pooh ! " exclaimed the Earl of Wegron, " It's all 
 the other way — all the other way. Isn't it, MacTor ? " 
 
 " All the other way," repeated MacTor, contentedly 
 stroking his red beard. " Never so much beer and 
 whiskey sold as now — never. It's very consoling 
 privately, besides being right — from the national point 
 of view. Destroy the wine and spirit trade, and what
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 151 
 
 becomes of your navy ? Let the navy run down, and 
 what becomes of your empire? That's the crusher. 
 To expect England to prosper without breweries and 
 distilleries would be like expecting a man to stand 
 erect without a back bone. If you want the French 
 in command at Portsmouth drown the miller, as we 
 say in Scotland. A course of Adam's ale and 
 Samson's on his back." 
 
 " Well put, by Jove ! " cried the Earl of Wegron, 
 feeling he must justify his directorship. " If you 
 want the French at Portsmouth, and the Russians in 
 Calcutta, and the Germans in Hong Kong and Cape 
 Town, then by all means remove the curse which 
 contributes some forty millions a year to the 
 Exchequer. That's how to kill the goose that lays 
 the golden egg. If you want to put England — the 
 England of Drake and Nelson and old Oliver — into 
 a grandmother's spectacles and nightcap, raze the 
 breweries, smash the distilleries, and tell the Excise 
 they may go for an indefinite holiday, because the 
 British flag is no longer to be kept floating wherever 
 }'ou turn, an eye-sore to the nations. Ask the mind 
 of the Government on that matter. Do they, as 
 guardians of the nation, desire less drinking? Did 
 Gladstone want less when he called beer the divinest 
 beverage invented by man since the gods gave up 
 tippling nectar ? You've got your choice : keep your 
 drink, or haul down your flag." 
 
 So the champion was refreshed and heartened. In 
 the mellow, golden atmosphere of his own circle it 
 was so easy to heap ridicule on his opponents and 
 their bleak, unpatriotic cause. Assuredly his coun- 
 sellors were right, sound economists and patriots, as 
 well as shrewd men of business. Rarely did private 
 interest jump so harmoniously with public policy. 
 As Lord Twickham said, the people were with them ; 
 they had, indeed, the nation .solidly at their back.
 
 152 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 The brewery on the banks of the Stare grew prodigi- 
 ously. Its day-books and ledgers told fairy tales of 
 prosperity, and on the Stock Exchange Twickham 
 shares were prized above rubies. In whatever light 
 viewed, the brewery was unquestionably a colossal 
 success. 
 
 "A colossal iniquity!" cried his opponents, and 
 added soothingly he did not understand the enornity 
 he defended. One congratulated him on his consum- 
 mate ignorance ; another on his skill in presenting 
 it amid abounding knowledge ; yet another blandly 
 advised him not to be elated, since even ignorance 
 grows stale. He replied hotly to taunts and allega- 
 tions which his father would not have noticed u'ith 
 so much as a smile of disdain. They pelted him 
 with statistics, and he retaliated with rhetoric. 
 His eloquence gave promise for the future ; but for 
 the present, its sole effect was to entangle him more 
 and more deeply in the toils of the enemy. Lord 
 Twickham, perceiving the danger, warned him. 
 
 " You have made a good enough start," said the 
 ancient general ; " but don't, as you value your 
 reputation, be lured into those jungles they call 
 statistics — that way lie ambushes." 
 
 Had Vincent remembered that advice in the 
 moment of provocation, the whole course of this 
 history were different. Being young and sensitive 
 and chivalrous, he forgot to be prudent, though 
 Experience pointedly cautioned him against the folly 
 of heeding empty babble. 
 
 " If you let such things worry you," said his father, 
 " thorns and briars will be soft in comparison with 
 your bed. So long as people drink my ale, I eat and 
 sleep not a whit the worse for idle abuse. If you 
 court failure and contempt, try to please everybody ; 
 the plan is infallible." 
 
 " But, father, all these abominable charges have
 
 TlCline on tbe Xees 153 
 
 been made in the most public place in the world," 
 answered Vincent, the glow of indignation in his 
 face. " The House grinned and gloated ; and now, 
 thanks to a free Press, the country is grinning and 
 gloating." 
 
 "And you would make it grin and gloat more." 
 
 " No ; I would refute." 
 
 " Refute ! " echoed Lord Twickham. " Vin, have you 
 lost your judgment? Add idiocy to idiocy, and tell 
 me the nett result. Refute ! Pooh ! no more of that, 
 pray. You might as profitably reply to the braying 
 of a jackass. Besides, the world's memory is short ; 
 the sermons of to-day are forgotten to-morrow — on 
 the whole, a merciful dispensation. Dismiss the 
 whole thing from your mind." 
 
 But Vincent was not as his father. The great 
 gift of impassibility was denied him ; which is to say, 
 that he could not at will forget what he did not wish 
 to remember, and proceed as if Heaven itself smiled 
 on his projects. That secret of success Lord Twickham 
 had long ago mastered ; it was still dark to Vincent, 
 so that the persecutors easily put him to exquisite 
 torture. Their calumnies made him blaze secretly 
 and furiously. For the first time in his life a burning 
 wrath possessed him, making the thought of vengeance 
 sweet.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE reader will scarcely be astonished to hear 
 that Tapley was of those who scoffed loudest 
 at the " tommy-rot " of the water-drinkers. But he 
 cherished warm regard for his brother-in-law, the 
 financial transactions between them being of a kind 
 to cement friendship ; and now, as usual, he was 
 practical in counsel. Vincent had a secret desire to 
 behold with his own eyes some of the reeking horrors 
 of den and rookery attributed to beer — behold, and 
 explode the fallacies in the agitators' faces. Privily 
 he consulted Tapley, and Tapley gave an English- 
 man's answer — that is to say, the answer of a born 
 man of action. 
 
 " Leave it to me," he said blithely, " and you 
 shall have your heart's desire, with some fun into 
 the bargain." 
 
 " On one condition," returned Vincent : " that not 
 a soul but ourselves knows of it. I wouldn't have 
 the thing leak out for worlds." 
 
 " You're the pearl of discretion," rejoined Tapley 
 cheerfully. 
 
 " Well, only one other soul or so — a necessary 
 soul in the enterprise. You're not going to Scotland 
 Yard ? " 
 
 " Scotland Yard ? " echoed Tapley. " I know a 
 trick worth several of that." 
 
 So Tapley set to work, for the scheme chimed 
 wonderfully with his humour. Within a few hours 
 
 154
 
 TRUlnc on tbe Xees 155 
 
 he called upon MacTor, and learned, as an item of 
 business news, there was very shortly to be a bar- 
 maids' ball, the biggest and grandest ever given, " in 
 acknowledgment of the efforts of the young ladies 
 of the trade in getting people to drink Mac Tor's 
 whiskey." 
 
 " They've done a lot for us," explained MacTor ; 
 "and it's but fair we should give them a fling now 
 and again with their sweethearts. Will you come ? 
 The girls are worth squeezing, and not too easily 
 scared." 
 
 Tapley admitted some personal knowledge on 
 these points. 
 
 " Where's it to be ? " he asked. 
 
 " Where would you think, now ? Shoreditch or 
 Bethnal Green, maybe. As it happens, it's to be 
 quite convenient to you. I'll tell you something, 
 though }'ou mustn't be speaking of it. I have been 
 in rooms in your locality for a fortnight, making 
 ready. Never suspected we did business in that 
 way, eh ? " He gripped his red beard, chuckling 
 softly. " Man, there's a lot more in heaven and earth 
 than clever folk suspect — God bless their ignorance ! 
 It's not everybody knows that a trim, tight, good- 
 looking little devil of a barmaid who is up to the 
 game is worth her weight in gold to the like o' me. 
 Now I'll whisper in your ear, as between friend and 
 friend, and neither of us burdened with saintliness, 
 that according to my lights I reward for services 
 rendered." 
 
 He opened a private drawer in his desk and 
 brought out a small, brazen-clasped book, fitted with 
 lock and key." 
 
 "This is my private ledger," he explained, unlock- 
 ing it. " You see, I draw so much for business 
 expenses — balls, presents, outings, dinners, and what 
 not, and here are the particulars to a sixpence.
 
 156 Mine on tbc Xees 
 
 What would our teetotal censors say to this, think 
 ye? If they got their hands on it we'd have fine 
 talk of bribery and immorality in business. Well, 
 I crack my thumb at that. What interests me is 
 that after a little judicious expenditure of this sort, 
 there's an appreciable increase in the sale of my 
 whiskey. That's what concerns me." He touched 
 an electric button by his desk side. " A friend has 
 just sent me a case of champagne for office use," 
 he said. " You're a judge, so you'll just give me 
 your opinion of it " — a suggestion to which Tapley 
 raised not the shadow of an objection. "You see," 
 pursued MacTor, when they had pledged each other, 
 " I can talk freely to you ; you're one of ourselves 
 
 like, otherwise " He shut his lips to prove 
 
 how fast he could hold a secret. 
 
 " Yours is really one of the most interesting and 
 romantic trades in the world," said Tapley, taking a 
 sip. 
 
 " So," responded MacTor, also taking a sip, " Well, 
 you see, most things are just as you make them. We 
 put most of the romance into it." 
 
 " I infer it's no longer true good wine needs no 
 bush." 
 
 " And you infer rightly," said MacTor, with 
 emphasis. " God bless my soul ! it needs a whole 
 forest of bushes — most seductively arranged. Tell 
 me now, how it is you hear more of MacTor's 
 whiskey than anybody else's ? " 
 
 " Why, because it's best, of course." 
 
 MacTor's broad shoulders heaved. 
 
 " Man, man," he said, gurgling and rubbing his eyes, 
 "that's a touching bit of faith, and in a time of 
 general unbelief, too. Take off your glass ; the stuff's 
 not bad. We can talk quite confidentially ; the Earl's 
 on my board." 
 
 " Thank you ; quite."
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 157 
 
 " Well, then, my friend, the plain truth is that a 
 score of first-rate whiskeys are on the market this 
 minute. In quality one's just as good's another." 
 
 " I thought there was probably some secret in the 
 making." 
 
 " Tuts ! Water's water, and grain's grain, and a 
 distillery is just a distillery. The secret has nothing 
 to do with distilling, and the funny thing is it's open 
 to all the world." 
 
 " Is it fair to ask what it is ? 
 
 " Perfectly fair. It goes by the name of advertising. 
 And you're not to understand by that what's paid for 
 in the newspapers ; that's the most expensive and the 
 least effective way of advertising. It's what's down 
 in this little book that tells." He tapped the brazen- 
 clasped volume of confidences. " Eh — Lord ! if this 
 book could only speak, what tales it might tell ; but, 
 thank God ! it's dumb. Is it not wonderful that in 
 this age of advertising not one man in ten thousand 
 understands the A. B. C. of the thing ? " 
 
 " Then it is all a matter of getting at the public," 
 said Tapley, emptying his glass. 
 
 " Mostly," replied MacTor — " mostly, as you say, 
 and yet not altogether, either. It's necessary, for 
 example, to have the stuff." 
 
 " As to that, you've only to make the more." 
 
 " True," admitted MacTor, his eyes twinkling — 
 " true, as far as it goes ; but it doesn't go far 
 enough. Tell me, for instance, how you would make 
 ten-year-old whiskey between sunset and dawn." 
 
 " I haven't the secret of compressing a decade into 
 a night." 
 
 " Then you'd be lost in the whiskey trade. The 
 man who can't work miracles is no use nowadays. 
 You sec, we have two kinds of customers. The 
 East End and the Colonies are all right for the 
 raw stuff ; they'd swallow anything. But your silk-
 
 158 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 hatted West End chappies, and the Scotch — who are 
 rare judges and great consumers of whiskey, I'm 
 proud to say — they must have the real Simon Pure, 
 mellowed and matured. Well, you get a big order 
 for ten-year-old, and you happen to be out of it. 
 What are you to do ? " 
 
 " Say you're out of it, I should think." 
 
 " Man, man, that would be a plan. Well, we 
 supply." 
 
 " Supply what you haven't got ? " cried Tapley. 
 
 " Revenons a nos mouions" said MacTor, laughing 
 quietly. " You'll come to the hop, won't you ? And 
 I'd like if Mr. Twickham could be induced to come, 
 too. It would do him no harm to see something 
 of his own business." 
 
 For himself, Tapley accepted on the spot. For 
 Vincent, he could not of course promise ; but he 
 would use his influence, on condition the attendance 
 should be strictly incog. Returning to Vincent, 
 he therefore suggested they might begin tentatively 
 with the barmaids' ball, as a thing likely to afford 
 incidental enlightenment. When Vincent begged 
 for particulars, Tapley replied, — 
 
 " For one thing, you'll see the trade, as Mac calls 
 it, enjoying itself in its own way. Differently 
 expressed, you'll sec the charmers of the public- 
 house blooming in all the glory of fresh paint and 
 cut-away dresses, and the publicans' fat wives fanning 
 their tawny immensities with ivory and ostrich 
 feathers. You might make a worse start, you know." 
 
 " Possibly," said Vincent ; and consented to join 
 the glittering throng, and dance a turn or two with 
 the enchantresses whose wiles and subtle witcheries 
 so momentously affected brewery and distillery 
 shares. 
 
 The scope and brilliancy of the assembly amazed 
 him. Circes of the charmed cup were there from all
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 159 
 
 over London, but chiefly from the West End, where 
 style and spirit enhance the delights of liquor. In 
 the East End, where men drink in a plain, straight- 
 forward way mostly for drink's sake, stodgincss may 
 suffice ; but in the cultured West, where motives are 
 mixed even more than liquors, it needs beauty and 
 art combined to make good sales. Matrons of tropic 
 luxuriance were also there, ablaze with gems and 
 busy with costly fans, according to Tapley's prediction. 
 The atmosphere was as heavy with perfumes of a 
 pungent kind as were cheeks with rouge ; and that 
 was heavy indeed, for time and pleasure and stale air, 
 frequently heated, play havoc with the complexion. 
 Eor an hour or two feminine faces had the brilliant 
 freshness of nature at her rarest. By midnight they 
 were oddly variegated ; but then, hardly any one was 
 in a condition to be critical, save here and there a 
 sober, withering wall-flower, present by mistake and 
 wholly unheeded. 
 
 In grace and sumptuousness of hospitality MacTor 
 surpassed himself Wine abounded, and the brands 
 were picked. Moreover, there were snug little rooms 
 for the gamblers, and cunningly devised nooks and 
 corners for couples hankering, in MacTor's considerate 
 words, " to kittle on the sly," Etiquette there was 
 none. 
 
 " We didn't come 'ere to be starched, did we ? " 
 remarked one lively damsel, summing up the general 
 sentiment. 
 
 Beside Tapley's, Vincent's zest was cold. Never- 
 theless, he played the gallant to bold-eyed, under- 
 clad Eves, who asked pertinently if he did not think 
 enjo\-ment the chief end of man, and ingenuously 
 cleared the way for sultry flirtations. Most of them 
 had spicy vocabularies ; all of them understood the 
 use of the double oitoidre, and could look without 
 wavering into a man's face. Sometimes their cnig-
 
 1 
 
 i6o Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 matic familiarities embarrassed Vincent. Nor was 
 he wholly at ease with the gross, high-bosomed dames 
 who formed a ceaseless procession to and from the 
 refreshment counter. Being heavy of limb and scant 
 of wind, they devoted themselves to gossip and, re- 
 laxed with wine, showed how to talk scandal. To 
 Vincent, whom they took for an innocent outsider, 
 they imparted some interesting particulars of the 
 trade, interspersed with piquant opinions of his own 
 firm. The Twickhams, it seemed, did not unbend 
 sufficiently. 
 
 " Now the likes o' this," said one dame, looking 
 round the sweltering scene, " do be good for business. 
 Mr. MacTor's a very kind, liberal gentleman — very. 
 'E don't mind a extry quid — not 'e, cos 'e knows that 
 if 'e makes the stuff it takes us to sell it. The 
 Twickhams is different. Not that they be 'ard on 
 their friends — oh dear ! no ; but they do be 'igh an' 
 proud. An' they say as young Twickham, 'im as 
 married the Earl's darter, ain't never been seen inside 
 a public-'ouse. 'E's making a mistake, sir, depend 
 upon it — 'e's makin' a mistake. It's the public-'ouse 
 as keeps 'em up, an' they should remember that — same 
 as Mr. MacTor does. 'E don't forget who butters 
 his bread for 'im, 'c don't. 
 
 Turning abruptly, Vincent went up to Tapley. 
 
 " Come," he said, " I'm going ; I've had enough."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 " \ T 7"ELL ! " said Tapley, as the two went off in a 
 
 V V hansom. " Gay little carousal, wasn't it ! 
 By Jove ! Mac knows the way to the affections of 
 the trade." 
 
 " Evidently," returned Vincent. 
 
 " Shrewd old fox, Duncan of the burr," continued 
 Tapley. " None understands better that revelry's 
 dashed good business at times." 
 
 Tapley was elevated to the pitch of hilarity. His 
 hat rode giddily far back on his head, his eye 
 glittered, his face was flushed. Vincent, on the other 
 hand, showed signs of weariness. 
 
 " Oh, I say ! " cried Tapley, catching him yawning, 
 " that's a reflection on Mac's hospitality. If you ask 
 me, the thing was capitally done." 
 
 " Capitally," admitted Vincent. 
 
 " A little more enthusiasm, Vin — a little more 
 enthusiasm. Any wrinkles ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ! I have added considerably to my stock 
 of knowledge." 
 
 " I'll be hanged if you seem much elated. Is 
 there any need to be so solemn in leaving such 
 merriment. 
 
 " Solemn ! Am I solemn ? " 
 
 " As a mute at a funeral," laughed Tapley. 
 
 " I have heard that mutes are at heart very jolly 
 fellows," said Vincent. " But it's a grave business — 
 learning, you know." 
 
 i6i II
 
 1 62 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Grave ! " repeated Tapley. " Wait a bit, my dear 
 Vin — wait a bit. You're only in the infant school. 
 If the kindergarten makes you grave, what'll you 
 be in the sixth form ? This has just been a nip 
 before dinner to tickle the appetite. There you go 
 again ! One would imagine you were a hlase old 
 reprobate, instead of being taking a first delicious 
 sip. You'll never learn unless you're interested." 
 
 Vincent promised to lay the Socratic axiom to 
 heart ; and Tapley, reverting to the entertainment, 
 remarked he had had very much worse fun in his 
 time. 
 
 " Some of the girls weren't by any means bad 
 looking," he said ; " and they know the time of day, 
 too, by Jove ! I forget the number of my appoint- 
 ments, sworn to by the glow of wanton eyes. A mere 
 mortal isn't equal to the chances of a night like this. 
 But heavens ! the rustling porpoises of wives, — think 
 of them trying to be improper." 
 
 He threw himself back with a roar of laughter, 
 knocking his hat rakishly over one eye. 
 
 " On your honour, Vin, could you imagine them 
 guilty of an impropriety in anything but manners ? 
 Could you imagine anyone breaking the command- 
 ments on their account ? No. Yet the sly old Mac 
 has sent every one of them home thinking she's a 
 sort of Helen of Troy. He's the 'cutest man in his 
 gallantries I ever met. It would be so easy, you know, 
 to fall into partialities, and there's considerable risk 
 of letting your feelings run away with you in the 
 critical moment ; but Mac's as cool and level-headed 
 as a brass nail. Old Joe of Egyptian fame couldn't 
 have been more discreet. Hullo ! here we are." 
 
 The hansom pulled up and they got out, Tapley 
 merrily chaffing the cabman, and doubling the fare 
 for the privilege. 
 
 " Jolly little covey," chuckled cabby to the police-
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 163 
 
 man on the beat, jerking head and thumb at the two 
 men as they disappeared into the house. 
 
 " You'd be jolly, too, if you was 'im," responded 
 the policeman. " Know who e' is ? 'E's Twickham's 
 ale — that's who 'e is. Could buy up all the kebs in 
 London out'n 'is loose change." 
 
 " An' 'e's a friend of yours," smirked cabby ; "an' 
 you ain't proud. Gawd ! Must 'ave a lotion to wash 
 that down. Ta-ta." 
 
 Inside, Tapley led the way to the library for some- 
 thing (not literary) " to sleep on," and while sipping 
 the ruby narcotic, informed Vincent that the plans 
 for the future were made. 
 
 " But you're not fit to discuss them to-night, 
 Vin," he said. " After a sleep you'll criticise and 
 amend." 
 
 Next morning his first business was to despatch 
 a note by special messenger to Mr. Richard Goodman, 
 desiring that gentleman to meet him at the Royal 
 Olympian at three in the afternoon. 
 
 "If you happen to have other engagements," he 
 wrote, " it may be worth your while to put them off." 
 
 The messenger caught Dick as he was leaving 
 Paradise Court for the day, in exceeding ill-humour 
 because of the state of the exchequer. For some 
 weeks fortune had been distinctly hostile. His income 
 had suddenly dropped, because of the fickleness of 
 friends on whom he had relied, and his demands on 
 Jenny were becoming more and more peremptory. 
 They were not satisfactorily met ; and he had just been 
 remonstrating in his own telling fashion for her failure 
 " to milk the old cow proper." That morning his 
 arguments had produced one and ninepence ha'penny. 
 The day before the amount had been two shillings, 
 and he wanted that figure repeated, for a man of 
 pleasure cannot well maintain appearances on one and 
 ninepence ha'penny a day. Jenny was twopence
 
 1 64 Wiinc on tbe Xees 
 
 ha'penny short, and he descended the stair with a 
 resentful tread and a flaming face, — to come upon 
 Tapley's messenger in a jaundiced fog in the court. 
 He answered gruffly to his name, asking trenchantly 
 who was after him now. For answer the startled 
 messenger put the note into his hand. Suspecting 
 treachery, Dick's first impulse was to knock the 
 man down and read the document afterwards. But 
 glancing at the address and signature, he suddenly 
 broke into cries of joy. 
 
 "Tottie, that's Lord Tapley," he said excitedly. 
 "Why didn't you say so, matey?" 
 
 Tapley's penmanship not being of the kind which 
 he who runs may read, Mr. Goodman smoothed the 
 letter against a wall, and set himself with great 
 deliberation to master its contents. 
 
 " Say, mate," he called over his shoulder, after a 
 strenuous effort, " these 'ere 'Gyptian 'ieroglyphics ain't 
 copperplate exactly. Mind 'avin' a go at 'em ? " 
 
 On the co-operative principle the note was at last 
 deciphered, and Dick could not help slapping his leg 
 in glee. 
 
 " That's all right," he cried, for the benefit of a 
 group of watchers. " Tell Lord Tapley I'll see to it. 
 I'm sorry," fumbling in his pocket, " I ain't got no 
 loose change 'bout me. Mind ye next time." 
 
 With that he turned on his heel, and next moment 
 bounded in on Jenny and Loo, who gasped together. 
 
 " Didn't expect me back so soon," he cried, smiling 
 in their scared faces. " Well, I couldn't keep away, 
 an' that's the truth. I ain't velvet-made, Jen. Rile 
 me an' I cut up rough ; but there's worse goin' ; an' 
 I'll make ycr fortin yet, 'ear that ? — I'll make yer 
 fortin yet. Guess where I'm goin' this arternoon." 
 
 " To the public-house," was the natural reply ; but 
 it was one which Jenny would not venture to frame 
 in words.
 
 Mine on tbe Xces 165 
 
 " Read that," added Dick gaily, tossing her the letter, 
 " an' tell mc wot ye think of it." 
 
 " What does it mean, Dick ? " asked Jenny, when she 
 had finished reading, her eyes very wide and her face 
 very serious, 
 
 " Never could tell wot I didn't 'appen to know," 
 replied Dick airily. " Don't 'e say ' Three o'clock. 
 Royal 'Lymp. Other engagements off.' That's 'bout 
 good enough, ain't it?" 
 
 If Dick said so, then it was so. Like a dutiful wife 
 Jenny polished his boots with great animation ; then 
 she helped him to tie the striped neckerchief which 
 completed his holiday attire, and brushed him all over 
 carefully with her bare hand. Finally, when he went 
 off, she stood at the top of the stair calling endearing 
 words after him so that all might hear. For it was 
 this infatuated little woman's fondest wish to impress 
 upon all and sundry that, despite appearances, she had 
 really the best husband in the world. As he dis- 
 appeared below, she turned back to work and think 
 and pray God he might come to no harm.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 BY a cunning deflection on the way to the Royal 
 Olympian, Dick managed to fall in quite acci- 
 dentally with Velvet Chick ; and in the course of a 
 brief conversation almost succeeded in turning that 
 gentleman's complexion from flaming red to green, 
 Lord Tapley's name being the poison used. Dick 
 deeply regretted that he was not at liberty to give a 
 bosom friend particulars of the great events ahead, 
 " lords and such like swells being odd in their ideas " ; 
 but by skilful nods and hints Chick was made to 
 understand he might expect a sensation. 
 
 They parted, Chick, who had a pressing engage- 
 ment elsewhere, doubling back to watch the boaster 
 in order to put him to confusion later on. He was 
 sure there was no appointment with Tapley ; it was 
 just more of Dick's brag : but when he witnessed 
 the meeting he was ready, in his own words, to 
 drop with disgust. A little later he enquired of 
 Tommy Binks "wot the world was a-comin' to?" 
 in such a tone of ferocity that Tommy thrilled 
 through all his heroic fibres. To enable them to 
 discern what the world was coming to, they resorted 
 to the Spotted Goat, where they cordially invoked 
 the landlord's aid. 
 
 " 'E don't amount to much, 'e don't," said the man 
 of liquors, referring to Dick's presumption. " Chick, 
 you'll 'ave to give him a dressing down." 
 
 i66
 
 Wine on tbc Xecs 167 
 
 " 'E'll better take care," growled Chick, " that's all 
 I say — 'e'll better take care." 
 
 Meanwhile, Tapley and Dick were busy and happy 
 in a corner of the smoking-room of the Olympian. 
 Over cigars and brandy-and-soda Dick swore by all 
 the gods he knew to keep eternal silence about the 
 business which brought them together ; then Tapley 
 divulged as much of it as he thought prudent. Dick 
 knew how Twickham's ale overflowed the land. Yes ; 
 Dick knew. The Twickham ale was everywhere. 
 
 " You can't get away from Twickham," he said 
 oracularly. 
 
 Well, as a young director laudably anxious to 
 master his business in detail, Vincent wished to make 
 certain private and experimental studies for himself — 
 wanted, in fact, to see something of the retail trade. 
 
 " Wants to see his ale goin' down men's throats," 
 said Dick, his face a midsummer sun for radiance. 
 
 " Exactly," said Tapley. " Curious whim." 
 
 " An' where do I come in ? " asked Dick, pushing 
 to the central point. 
 
 " Well, how's Mr. Twickham to gratify his whim ? " 
 was the answer. 
 
 " No how, as I knows on, 'cept by doin' a public- 
 'ouse crawl," said Dick thoughtfully. 
 
 " Public-house crawl ? " echoed Tapley. 
 
 " Yes ; round of pubs, ye know. No other way of 
 seein' the stuff disappear as I can think on." 
 
 "Hit the nail on the head, by Jove!" responded 
 Tapley. " Goodman, yours is the plan — the only plan 
 of obtaining first-hand knowledge. But he can't go 
 alone, and he can't go as Twickham. Tumble ? " 
 
 Dick could have poked Tapley in the ribs as the 
 deepest-dyed, most delightful rascal in the world, but 
 the place was public. So he merely leaned forward, 
 with a meaning light in his eye, and whispered, 
 •• Disguise ? "
 
 1 68 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 Tapley nodded. 
 
 " Then," said Dick, his pulses bounding wildly, 
 " I'm his man. You'll go. Yes ; that's proper. 
 Tottie, this is goin' to be a big game — the biggest 
 game we've ever played." 
 
 They proceeded swiftly to detail, lest too long a 
 conference might provoke comment. Tapley passed 
 a sovereign, which Dick accepted as an earnest of 
 what was to follow. 
 
 " You'll have to get a new rig-out," said Tapley, 
 looking over his fellow-conspirator. 
 
 " 'Shamed of m.e ? " asked Dick. 
 
 " Quite the reverse, my boy — quite the reverse, I 
 assure you," was the prompt response. " But if one 
 goes incog., all must go incog. In your present 
 clothes you'd be a walking declaration of our im- 
 posture." 
 
 Thereupon he hastily indicated what the common 
 disguise was to be. They were all to be as horsey 
 and doggy as tailor could make them. Amateurs of 
 sport they would go about, dropping in here and 
 there, as the humour seized them, to make merry 
 with other men of pleasure about town ; they were 
 to observe unobserved ; to drink without getting 
 drunk — a feat which Mr. Goodman thought possible, 
 but exceedingly difficult. 
 
 "An' 'ow much d'ye reckon this 'ere new rig-out 
 will cost ? " asked Dick. 
 
 " Depends on where you buy. Petticoat Lane 
 on a Sunday morning ought to give abundant 
 choice." 
 
 " So, so," said Dick. " West End cast-offs come 
 East for a polish. Reckon it'll be all right if the 
 chink's there." 
 
 Tapley tabled another sovereign. 
 
 " On your honour, now, Goodman, you'll keep 
 sober," he said.
 
 Wine on tbe Xees 169 
 
 " Oh, Tottie ! " cried Dick upbraidingly, " how 
 can you an' me on the strict tee-totc? Just been 
 asked to give my experience at a temp'rince meetin'." 
 
 " I apologise," returned Tapley. " And let me 
 see, give me your measurements, and never mind 
 Petticoat Lane. On second thoughts I'll look after 
 the toggery." 
 
 " An' wot 'bout the coin ? " asked Dick quietly, 
 fearing he might have to refund. 
 
 " Oh ! " laughed Tapley, " we never demand 
 repayment. Let's call it household expenses. Mrs. 
 G. must not be forgotten." 
 
 " Then," said Dick, feeling mightily relieved, " all 
 we've got to do is to get ready." 
 
 " That's all," answered Tapley ; " and to see we've 
 got sand for prying eyes. You understand ? " 
 
 Dick nodded, smiling as one who knew how to 
 deal with impertinence and curiosity.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 REVERSING the order of the sun, they began in 
 the west, making the eastward descent into 
 Avernus gently, to spare Vincent the shock of a 
 plunge. To attune their spirits to the adventure, they 
 dropped into a West End theatre, mingling jovially 
 with the gay bloods at the bar, and passing thence 
 with the throng oi jeimesse dorce to the enticing fields 
 where wild oats are sown. 
 
 They took experiences and discoveries in diverse 
 ways. Tapley moved from scene to scene, blithe, 
 tactful, jocular, familiar of manner, and ready of tongue; 
 Vincent feigning his character well, but preferring the 
 reserve of a student ; Dick for once abashed — abashed 
 by the pure glory of the thing. Mr. Goodman had 
 understood vaguely that as the heavens are higher 
 than the earth, so the West End exceeds the East in 
 life's felicities ; but the reality was so much beyond 
 his imagination that he was dumb from joy and 
 amazement — save for intermittent exclamations 
 necessary to relieve the feelings. It may be that 
 Tapley's injunction not to " give the show away " by 
 talking curtailed his speech, though it is likelier he 
 promptly forgot the command. In any case, his mood 
 was one of ecstasy too deep for words. So, like 
 Belshazzar, in the giddiness of good fortune he drank 
 wine, and in his heart praised the gods of gold and 
 silver and crystal, and, happier than the Babylonian 
 monarch, saw no writing on the wall. 
 
 Hitherto, it had been his custom to worship his 
 170
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 171 
 
 chosen god with a devotion wholly blind to the style 
 or ornaments of the temple. Now the temple was in 
 itself a thing of voluptuous delight. Craftily and 
 with childish pleasure Dick glanced in the gorgeous 
 mirrors, Narcissus-like in love with the decked-out 
 figure of the sportsman who smirked fraternally back 
 at him. With a fine simulation of cffeteness he 
 lolled on sofas which might have given the august 
 legs of princes a sense of luxurious ease. He gazed at 
 painted nymphs and graces and satyrs on wall and 
 ceiling, vaguely conscious of the fascinations of art ; 
 the music of fountains and stringed instruments, 
 mysteriously softened, soothed and charmed him. He 
 laid his elbows on cool marble and looked in the 
 seductive, falsified faces of the handmaids of Bacchus, 
 and studied the " get-up " of the sybarites who came 
 to flatter and drink, wondering within himself at the 
 toleration of Providence. 
 
 He would fain have pitched his tent in that warm, 
 dazzling, spendthrift world, where everyone talked 
 folly and acted folly, and the drinks were rare and 
 expensive. O Lord ! that he had money to waste 
 as those gilded apes wasted it. Spying disparity 
 between rewards and merits, Mr. Goodman absently 
 took off a MacTor hot. The moment after he caught 
 Tapley's rebuking eye ; but a simultaneous diversion 
 saved him. A highly gilt youth with a pelican beak 
 and no chin, mistaking the trio for " green uns from 
 the country," essayed to be humorous at their expense. 
 Dick itched to correct his error and mend his manners ; 
 but scenting danger, Vincent and Tapley turned to 
 go. With a smiling " good night " to the chinless one 
 and his friends they passed out, Dick pausing just a 
 moment to intimate that, as an artist in facial decora- 
 tion, he would joyfully titivate their countenances at 
 any time, and though he did not like to boast, he felt 
 safe in saying their looks could be greatly improved.
 
 172 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 "If you go on like that," said Tapley, when they 
 were outside, " I'll bundle you home in a growler," 
 
 Dick laughed so uproariously that a constable pulled 
 up to look him over, remarking he seemed to be 
 " took very bad." 
 
 " As bad's a copper at an area-gate when the cook's 
 about," returned Dick ; and then to Tapley, " Better 
 insure cabby's life, then ; might 'ave kids dependin' 
 on 'im." 
 
 " Well," said Tapley, in a tone of vexation, " we 
 shall all be run in if you don't take care. That'll be 
 the end of it." 
 
 Whereupon Vincent chimed in with the statement 
 that if they were running such risks the whole pro- 
 ject was abandoned on the spot. Finding his com- 
 panions serious, Dick contritely promised on his 
 honour to take insults meekly for the future ; but 
 he could not help giving them an account of "Tottie 
 afore the beak," and his friends lying zealously on 
 his behalf. 
 
 " Never 'ad yer chin above the dock rail, wonderin' 
 wot would come out 'gainst ye next," said Dick. 
 " Well, there's something ye don't know till ye've 
 worn the darbies an' 'ad yer testimonials read out 
 in court an' put in the papers." 
 
 They were passing a lamp-post, and he stopped 
 abruptly. 
 
 " See there," baring his right wrist and revealing 
 an ugly scar. " Nearly tore the bloomin' irons apart. 
 Took four coppers to put 'cm on, Tottie, not countin' 
 the two as began the row an' wasn't in at the finish. 
 For that little frolic — 
 
 ' The once a week made me go ta-ta 
 For a montli on the can't keep still.' 
 
 But if you was took up ye'd fork out the fine." 
 
 " Avaunt, Satan," answered Tapley ; " we're losing 
 time."
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 173 
 
 Seven nights were devoted to the glittering palaces 
 where rank and wealth drown their ennui, Dick 
 religiously keeping his vow. Vincent made vast 
 and curious additions to his knowledge of the beer 
 trade ; Taplcy enjoyed himself without thought of 
 instruction ; and Dick was content to take tooth- 
 fuls of liquor and keep his fists in his pockets and 
 his tongue standing at ease, save when seduced into 
 gentle flirtations with the temptresses who make 
 brewery shares boom on 'Change. In general, how- 
 ever, Tapley was ladies' man, his gifts for the part 
 being pre-eminent. Dick's method was to take by 
 storm ; Taplcy won by strategy. 
 
 " You mean well, Goodman," remarked his friend ; 
 " but with girls you're the bull in the china shop." 
 
 Anyone else indulging in such candour would have 
 endangered his head ; but there were many reasons 
 why Tapley should be forgiven. For one thing, his 
 favour was bread and wine (" peck and lush," were 
 Mr. Goodman's words), with pocket-money and the 
 envy of rivals to boot. While his kindnesses continued 
 he was, therefore, free to chaff. What gave Dick 
 concern, as he lay in bed at mid-day staring reflectively 
 at the ceiling, was not Tapley's acid humour, but a 
 possible change of luck : that was the special con- 
 tingency from which he prayed heart and soul to be 
 delivered. 
 
 On one point his conscience protested. To a thirsty 
 man, whose creed was to — 
 
 " Grasp the goblet with both hands, 
 And drink while he had breath." 
 
 Tapley's restrictions in the matter of liquor were try- 
 ing. A full week Dick held out against a sense of lost 
 opportunities. Then his creed proved too strong for 
 him. He had solemnly sworn to Tapley to avoid his 
 old haunts, as if by an oath a leopard might change
 
 174 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 its spots or an Ethiopian his skin. One day he 
 tumbled out of bed meditative and surly of manner. 
 He repulsed Loo, whose prattlings and caresses he had 
 lately encouraged ; and Jenny's breakfast failed to 
 satisfy, though it included a rasher of bacon, sausages, 
 and an egg. The thought of Tapley's absurdities 
 vexed him to exasperation. He had been round a 
 hundred flash public-houses without once getting 
 properly exhilarated — a thing not to be contemplated 
 with a cool face. Had anyone told him a fortnight 
 before that such an omission was possible, he would 
 have laughed in scorn. Yet, — ach ! he could not bear 
 to think of what he had missed. 
 
 A sharp pang of remorse made him curse bitterly. 
 Then a mighty yearning for social joys came upon 
 him. A dispute with Jenny furnished a pretext for 
 seeking them abroad, and hastening forth, he turned 
 as by instinct to the Bear and Cubs, where Mr. Wragg 
 beamed a welcome and rallied him on forgetting old 
 friends. 
 
 " Let me see," said Boniface, pretending to jog his 
 memory, " must be considerable more'n a week since 
 you was 'ere last. Didn't think you was the sort to 
 get swelled 'ead along o' toffs. 'Ave the kindness to 
 give it a name." 
 
 Laughing contentedly, Dick gave " it a name " ; 
 and the pair settled down to an hour's sociality, for 
 it chanced that Wragg wanted news. 
 
 At the appointed time Dick met his friends at the 
 rendezvous in Leicester Square, with his hat at an 
 exaggerated military cock, and the old Adam rampant 
 in his eye. Divining what had happened, Tapley 
 suggested " something to eat." So Goodman was 
 taken into a restaurant and fed on grilled beef-steak 
 to enable him " to carry his cargo." The intention 
 was to dispense with liquids, but there the reckoning 
 was without the guest.
 
 mine on tbe Xees 175 
 
 " Heh ! Tottie — no lotion ? " remarked Dick ; and 
 before any one could answer, he had ordered the 
 German waiter to bring " three glasses of Twickham's 
 number one at Lloyd's, and look skinny about it." 
 
 On returning, the waiter was asked tersely if he 
 had brewed the ale on the premises. 
 
 " I vas quick," retorted the Teuton. " Boot Gott 
 in Himmel ! I can nod vly." 
 
 Dick exploded. 
 
 "You can nod vly," he cried — "you can nod vly. 
 Old sourkrowt, wot can ye do ? " 
 
 The Teuton bristled up, and would have retaliated 
 according to his rights, but for an opportune transfer 
 of silver on the part of Tapley, Feeling his palm 
 magically tickled, he laughed in turn, remarking on 
 the English proclivity for pleasantries. 
 
 From the restaurant they went to a billiard-saloon, 
 on the misconception that the rebel might be toned 
 down with a game. Dick stated frankly he " didn't 
 know nothin' 'bout the bloomin' sticks an' balls," and 
 at the third stroke proved it by sending the point of 
 his cue ripping through the cloth. 
 
 " There ye are," he said, laughing in the marker's 
 face ; " wot d'ye think of that ? " 
 
 The marker ran his hand along the rent, and 
 answered succinctly with a statement of damages. 
 Dick rejoined with a defiant guffaw. Did the marker 
 imagine he was just cutting his teeth ? Wasn't the 
 stuff green baize, and couldn't acres of green baize be 
 bought for the figure named ? The marker observed 
 it wasn't his duty to argue, and was going off in quest 
 of the landlord when Vincent interposed by paying 
 the debt. 
 
 With that they shifted quarters again. The prin- 
 cipals would have suspended investigations for the 
 night, had it been possible to get Dick home without 
 a demonstration ; but as he kept informing them he
 
 176 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 was " fit to face the devil," and meant to do it, they 
 were obliged to go on, despite forebodings to 
 disaster. 
 
 It was to be a Piccadilly night, and of all nocturnal 
 carnivals, Piccadilly nights are the rarest. Other 
 delights cloy the appetites they feed ; but, like Egypt's 
 Queen, these miracles of civilisation make hungry 
 where most they satisfy. Summer or winter, under 
 the clear stars or in muffling fog, the nightly revel fails 
 not ; for Clubland has much money and unmeasured 
 desires, with matchless ingenuity in gratifying them. 
 So the witching hour is turned into high noon, and 
 the tides of pleasure surge between the Circus and 
 the Park Corner, roaring like a roost and carrying 
 frail or ill navigated craft to ruin. Only Cleopatra 
 barges ride to and fro with triumphant prow, rustling 
 their silken tackle and diffusing strange perfumes. 
 
 In that familiar region Vincent and Tapley were 
 oppressed by fears of detection, for at any moment 
 they might be hailed by " friends on the frolic " ; and 
 though Goodman's exuberance added to the risk, he 
 declined to listen to the voice of reason, 
 
 " I thought we come out for a lark," was his answer 
 to Tapley's remonstrance. " Tottie ain't gettin' afraid, 
 is'e?" 
 
 As they joined the throng pressing westward from 
 the deserted theatres, it was clear Dick meant to 
 make the most of his opportuuities. How to keep 
 him out of the clutches of the law was a problem 
 which troubled his companions, for he flung jests at 
 night-hawks and bantered policemen with equal zest. 
 Visons of dock and magistrate began to haunt Vincent ; 
 and he whispered his fears into Tapley's ear. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake get him out of this," he said, 
 indicating the figure ahead. 
 
 Almost as he spoke there arose about that figure 
 the rustle of excitement which in a London street
 
 Mine on tbe Xces 177 
 
 denotes a parley with the police. Tapley sprang 
 forward. 
 
 " All right, officer," he said smilingly. " Here's a 
 cab ; give him a hand in." 
 
 The constable growled undecidedly, being new to 
 his office ; and Dick was bundled headlong into a 
 four-wheeler, Vincent and Tapley getting in quickly 
 after him. 
 
 " You confounded idiot ! " said his lordship from 
 between set teeth. " I've a dashed good mind to 
 pepper you." 
 
 Dick looked hard at him for a moment, then lay 
 back and roared. 
 
 " Tottie, don't you be talkin' to me 'bout no game 
 bantam cocks," he cried — " don't you be doin' it." 
 And he slapped his leg and roared again. 
 
 12
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 NEXT day Tapley took occasion to inform Dick 
 in rousing Anglo-Saxon what was thought of 
 his behaviour, and how narrowly he missed landing 
 them all in the police-court. 
 
 " Just think of the figure we should cut," said his 
 lordship, hotly and honestly indignant ; " and all 
 because it was your insane pleasure to act the idiot." 
 
 Goodman thought and smiled ; but the next 
 instant he confessed his backsliding with abject 
 contrition. " Never 'ad a good thing on," he 
 owned dolefully, " that I didn't go 'ot-foot an' make a 
 bloomin' fool of myself. Seems as if the devil was 
 always at my elbow whisperin'. If you was to go an' 
 wash yer 'ands of me, Tottie, it 'ud just be iny 
 luck, an' I ain't sayin' as I shouldn't deserve it. An' 
 yet," he went on, scratching his head and looking 
 comically at his judge, " some people can make no 
 end of fools of themselves without bein' a bit the 
 worse." 
 
 It was a case of him who was without sin casting 
 the first stone, and Tapley took it as such. He 
 considered a moment, his face relaxing precisely as 
 the astute Dick expected. It was plain he was not 
 the man to throw a brother sinner overboard. 
 
 " Well," he said presently, looking Dick squarely 
 in the eyes, " I don't want to lay any more broken 
 vows on your head. I don't want you to swear by 
 all that's holy you'll never act the fool again, because 
 
 178
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 179 
 
 that would only be another chance for the devil that 
 whispers at your elbow. But I want to tell you that, 
 devil or no devil, the next time you indulge in 
 drunken antics you shall be left to your fate ; we 
 go our way and you go yours. We don't go out 
 for such diversions as we had last night. We're not 
 eager to engage in street brawls ; and I want you to 
 understand that it's perilous to badger German waiters, 
 rip up billiard cloths, and insult markers, and that 
 we're distinctly averse to the idea of having police- 
 court caricaturists do our portraits for the evening 
 papers." 
 
 " It's impossible to mistake wot you want me to 
 understand," returned Dick, the corners of his mouth 
 twitching comically. " Ye've got a gift of plain words, 
 Tottie, I'll say that for ye." 
 
 " And a gift of plainer deeds if I'm tried too much," 
 was the rejoinder. " I don't want to be harsh, 
 Goodman, my boy, but just think a moment of the 
 risks. We're doing this strictly on the sly — want 
 to hide it from our dearest friends ; and damme, you'd 
 have it blazing in every newspaper in the land." 
 
 " You'd be a sweet morsel for the newspapers," 
 admitted Dick. ' A lord in the dock. How a hearl's 
 son goes the pace. Amoosin' hevidcnce.' I can see 
 the bloomin' bills starin' at me, an' people runnin' 
 to buy." 
 
 " And the vision pleases you ? " 
 
 " It don't," answered Dick quickly — " it don't, s'elp 
 me Gawd ! an' that's honest. You've stood by me 
 better'n any man ever done afore, Tottie, 'cept Bob 
 McCrae — 'im that's sergeant- major now — an' I ain't 
 goin' to cut my own throat. I ain't goin' back on ye. 
 When ye see me gcttin' frolicky again, shunt me, 
 chuck me, I can scrape through where you'd be 
 stuck, an' a time or two more or less afore the beak 
 won't do me no 'arm. But don't you run no risks.
 
 i8o Mine on tbe Xces 
 
 When I get breezy atop I'd let drive at my own 
 shadow. In the Forty-second I lost my stripes for 
 thinkin' as a belt-buckle was meant for a chum's 'ead, 
 an' all along o' bad whiskey." 
 
 They were sitting, and he suddenly leaped to his 
 feet, his eyes flashing, and his breath coming quick 
 and hard. 
 
 " Lost my stripes ! " he cried. " Think wot that is 
 to an army man. Oh ! you needn't tell me 'ow it 
 feels to be took an' kicked an' tramped on. Gawd ! I 
 should be a non-com. now, colour-serjeant likely, if 
 they could 'a' kept me out'n clink. For I liked the 
 army, Tottie — liked the fightin', too, by gum ! Got 
 my officer's praise an' two medals. ' Where are they 
 • now ? ' says you. Where men sell their souls— that's 
 where they are." 
 
 He laughed the dry, rasping laugh which comes of 
 the utterness of folly. 
 
 " I've thought it all out, more'n once," he pursued, 
 with the conviction of a fatalist. " The army trainin' 
 an' my 'abits, they don't combine to make wot you call 
 a fust-class citizen. Oh no, they don't. That ain't 
 the way saints is made. But the tiger must live till 
 'is time comes. Some day the newspaper nippers will 
 be hollerin' ' Orful tragedy,' an' you'll read an' find Dick 
 Goodman's name, an' you'll say ' Poor beggar ! I told 
 'im wot would 'appen ; but 'e wouldn't be warned, 'e 
 wouldn't take no advice.' No ; 'e was never good at 
 takin' advice, though it's dirt cheap. 'Eavens ! if grub 
 an' drink was as cheap as advice, wot a rippin' world 
 this'd be. But I beg your pardon, Tottie. We're on 
 for the East End, aint we ? 
 
 " On the condition I have named," replied Tapley. 
 
 " It's my native 'eath," cried Dick ; " I'd know the 
 smell of it anywhere. Just name the spot, an' leave 
 the rest to me. I'm your's, Tottie, an' Mr. Twickham's. 
 'E don't talk free an' easy an' pal like, same as you
 
 Mine on tbe Xees iSi 
 
 do ; but I like 'im — I like im.' I can see 'e does a 
 deal o' thinkin', an' I know 'e ain't the man to quarrel 
 with. I know that kind o' man the minute I lay 
 eyes on 'im. Minds me o' my cap'n — no tongue in 
 barrick, couldn't be bothered jabberin' ; but show 'im 
 where there's fightin', an' its who's there fust. Got 
 'is V.C. ; an' Mr. Twickham's 'is brcathin' image." 
 
 Hearing of the compliment, Mr. Twickham 
 modestly hoped he was worthy of the comparison ; 
 and Dick rejoined gallantly all he wanted was the 
 chance to face death to have his V.C. also. 
 
 " It's a chance we all get," said Vincent quietly. 
 
 " Yes, sir," rejoined Dick. " But most of us don't 
 stay to wear the bronze and laurel." 
 
 " Now you moralise," put in Tapley. " May I beg 
 of you to turn off the tap ? " 
 
 But Vincent nodded sympathetically.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THERE was to be a fresh disguise in conformity 
 to East End fashion. Dick, of course, relapsed 
 naturally into the attire of Paradise Court, and 
 Vincent and Tapley were to assume as close an 
 imitation as ready-made clothes could effect. The 
 scene of transformation was the back room of a 
 Hebrew outfitter, in a malodorous alley on the edge 
 of a great slum. On learning their business, the 
 greasy son of Abraham looked suspiciously at the 
 three ; but as no objection was made to the hundred 
 per cent, premium he put on to cover risks, no 
 questions were asked. 
 
 The change was taken as an excellent jest till 
 Tapley, chancing to glance in a mirror, nearly had 
 a fit. 
 
 " Heavens ! " he cried, tearing ofif the furbished 
 ready-mades and flinging them into a corner. " Death 
 rather than disfigurement. And ugh ! I itch as 
 if all the fleas in Jewry were feasting on me." 
 
 At that Vincent also felt crawling .sensations of 
 the skin, and he, too, began to strip with desperate 
 haste. It was less easy than they imagined to 
 discard the feelings of civilisation. 
 
 " Here, Goodman," said Tapley, kicking the new 
 acquisitions, " resell these to your friend the Jew, 
 and express to him the uncircumcised Philistines' 
 extreme regret for declining to wear them. Hol\' 
 Jerusalem ! how the place smells. An ounce of 
 
 182
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 183 
 
 civ'Ct, good apothecary, to sweeten the imagination. 
 If wc could get new noses — patent trap-noses — and 
 feelings impervious to the itch, we might do business ; 
 but ugh ! these Israelitish perfumes are too robust. 
 Come, Vin ! Goodman will follow when he has resold 
 the fleas." 
 
 Dick's wrangle with the Jew, who had little English, 
 but a profound comprehension of his own interest, 
 was stiff and prolonged. Mr. Goodman argued 
 with force and point that if the clothes were worth so 
 much half an hour before, their value could not have 
 been greatly depreciated by a little handling. The 
 Jew raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders. He 
 was a stranger ; he did nod know English coosdoms. 
 The clothes had been worn — they were now second- 
 hand ; and as Jacob was a holy man and a just, he 
 could nod bossibly sell them again as new. He 
 would dake his oath they were now worth so mooch — 
 so mooch and nod a varding more ; and he thought- 
 fully added, that in case of police enquiries he would 
 know nodthing — nodthing whatever. He knew 
 gentlemen get into droublc sometime. 
 
 " Ole man, I wish I was a Jew," said Dick, laughing 
 ironically. 
 
 He yearned to teach the snuffy foreigner some 
 English coosdoms, among them common English 
 honesty ; but thinking discretion the better part of 
 wisdom, pocketed the coin, expressed his opinion of 
 the giver, and departed, by no means so ill satisfied 
 with the transaction as he pretended. 
 
 Rejoining his friends he suggested " grub." 
 
 " A peckish business, this trampin' o' streets an' 
 rummagin' of ole clo' shops," he declared, gaily leading 
 the way to an eating-house with a chunk of fly-blown 
 beef in the window for advertisement. 
 
 " Wot's it to be ? " he asked politely. " There ain't 
 no scarcity, as ye can see."
 
 i84 Wine on tbe Xees 
 
 He showed them great tureens of yellowish stew, 
 in which pieces of fat floated like dead jelly-fish, and 
 huge tins, in which sausages bubbled in boiling grease 
 and onions. There were also smoking dishes of 
 sauerkraut, each with its portion of sickly white pork 
 in the midst. He recommended the sausages, and 
 was allowed to order for three. His guests sniffed, 
 tasted, looked at each other, and by a common impulse 
 pushed their plates from them. Dick ate alone and 
 ate with relish, murmuring it was impossible to account 
 for tastes. 
 
 From the eating-house they went to a tavern, where 
 there was a round of beer. Though it was still early 
 in the evening the bar-room was thronged. Many of 
 those who babbled and drank were women : some 
 so old and palsied that they could hardly raise the 
 glass to their oozy mouths ; others were young 
 mothers who shared the gin and beer with their babes, 
 " to give the kids the proper taste " ; others, again, 
 were mere girls, whose brazen looks, as they nodded 
 to their " young men " over liquor, denoted a know- 
 ledge of forbidden fruit. Vincent was glad to get 
 out, and said so. 
 
 " Lor' bless you ! that ain't nuthin'," Dick assured 
 him. " You just wait." 
 
 It was again Saturday night. The main thorough- 
 fares were lined with stalls, naphtha lamps flared and 
 flickered in the wind, casting grotesque shadows, 
 nameless odours floated in the air, and over all was 
 the ceaseless, strident cry which rose or fell according 
 to the urgency or lung power of the criers. Costerdom 
 was exerting itself mightily, and costerdom has de- 
 monic energy. 
 
 Here and there the explorers paused, mingling with 
 the groups about stalls, asking prices, and pretending 
 they couldn't afford to buy. 
 
 " Here, honey," cried an old woman, flourishing two
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 185 
 
 red herrings in Vincent's face, " a penny, an' fit to 
 make a king's mouth wather, be the powers they are ! 
 No ! There yc are, then," clapping on another. " A 
 penny the lot^a penny for three beautiful red herrin' — 
 only a penny. Och ! sor, won't ye buy now ? an' me 
 owld man an his back wid the rheumatiz ? Buy, me 
 jewel ; an' when yer atin' the tastiest mouthful in 
 London, think av poor owld Judy O'Grady that ye 
 made glad. There, I'll make it four — four av the 
 best red herrin' as ever wuz kippered at a farthin' 
 a head. What are ye made av, any way ? " 
 
 Vincent did not buy the herrings, but he bestowed 
 a silver piece. 
 
 " Och ! be the howly s'ints," cried Judy, " an angel 
 in the form of a purty young man. May the blissin' 
 av S'int Patrick rest on ye, sor ! Here, Sally Ann," 
 to a girl of ten on the opposite side of the stall, 
 "what are ye afther hidin' there for? Off to the 
 Two Drovers wid ye, an' fetch me a mug o' Doublin 
 stout for to dhrink the gintleman's health." 
 
 Forthwith Vincent was besieged, some offering to 
 join Mrs. O'Grady in drinking his health, if he provided 
 the needful ; some pressing him to invest in articles 
 of food, or ornaments for his " gel " ; and others gently 
 chaffing after the manner of Alsatia. From the banter 
 and the importunity he was fain to take refuge in a 
 tavern into which Dick dexterously whipped him out 
 of sight. 
 
 " If ye go on doin' that, sir," said Dick, "ye'll 'avc 
 the whole bloomin' East End arter ye." 
 
 Vincent drew a long breath and coughed. The 
 place was full, hot, and recking with divers fumes. 
 The landlord, a cask fitted with limbs and a red 
 knob for head, came up, spread out his fat hands on 
 the counter, and said, " Well ? " 
 
 " Got Twickham ? " asked Dick. 
 
 The red knob nodded.
 
 1 86 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Three glasses, please." 
 
 But when Vincent tasted the beer, he spat it out. 
 
 " That's never our — that's never Twickham," he 
 said, loud enough to be heard. 
 
 " Hel\! " shouted a pimply youth, gesticulating 
 gleefully in anticipation of sport. " Cove 'ere says 
 it ain't Twickham." 
 
 The landlord turned from the far end of the bar, 
 whither he had gone to serve other customers, the 
 look of an angry bulldog in his eye. 
 
 " Oo says wot ain't Twickham ? " he demanded. 
 
 '"Im," answered the pimply youth, jerking a thumb 
 at Vincent. 
 
 A black shadow deepened to purple the red of the 
 landlord's visage. 
 
 " We don't stand no monkey tricks 'ere," he said 
 fiercely, planting himself opposite Vincent. " You 
 asked for Twickham ; you've got Twickham. Wot 
 the 'ell 'ave ye to say ? " 
 
 He was a man with enormous ears and the jowl 
 of the ideal bully of the British public-house — a 
 superb " chucker-out." 
 
 Dick was stepping nimbly forward to take the 
 matter in hand, but Vincent prevented him. 
 
 " It's all right, landlord," said the offender apolo- 
 getically. 
 
 "All right," repeated the landlord— " no, tain't all 
 right, not by a long chalk. Serve ye jolly well right 
 to be pitched on yer 'ead, comin' in 'ere hinsultin' 
 honest men. Come, take yer bloomin' carkis out'n 
 this if ye want to get it away whole." 
 
 " A bit 'ot, ain't it ? " remarked Dick, as the three 
 got into the coolness of the night. 
 
 "What came we out for to see?" asked Vincent, 
 making the best of a forced retreat. " But I'll take 
 my oath that wasn't Twickham." 
 
 " I wish you'd let me tell 'im so," said Dick, " sweet
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 187 
 
 an pretty, so's he'd be tempted. Wot a side o' bacon 
 he'd make." 
 
 " You forget we're not out for the scientific use of 
 our fists," responded Vincent. " Let's proceed." 
 
 They turned into a music-hall, and Vincent had 
 time to reflect. He felt that his education was 
 proceeding apace, and the curriculum certainly 
 included unforeseen subjects. The variety of life 
 comprised within the four mile radius was sometimes 
 perplexing and sometimes appalling. In the past he 
 had heard much of the tastes and diversions of the 
 masses, listening with indifferent heart and ear as to 
 missionary tales which did not concern him. Now 
 heart and ear were tremblingly sensitive. In this 
 strange, new university he learned at lightning speed 
 and with nerves on the tingle. 
 
 An hour of the music-hall sufficed. When they 
 came forth again the Saturday night pandemonium 
 was at its shrillest and loudest. A sort of yellow 
 glare, as of a confllagration struggling in fog, was upon 
 the seething streets. By their greater brilliancy the 
 thickly studded public-houses stood out like white 
 spots of light, hospitable beacons to all who would be 
 merry in a world too much given to sadness ; and 
 everywhere Twickham's ale and MacTor's Scotch 
 whiskey were thrust on the attention. Vincent 
 owned he was a shrewd man who invented the tavern, 
 a philosopher whose system, grounded on human 
 nature, would outlast the fame of kings and con- 
 querors. Empires might rise and fall. Churches grow 
 and decay — nay, religions themselves come and go, 
 but the tavern would flourish while men were thirsty 
 or jolly or wretched. In all seasons and weathers 
 there were the public-houses flaming their invitations 
 to the happy to come and be happier .still, and to the 
 miserable to ma]<e haste to drown their misery. 
 
 Nor did they flame in vain. Wherever Vincent
 
 1 88 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 and his companions turned, the public-houses were 
 full to overflowing. From several they turned away 
 from lack of room. Vincent noted once again that 
 woman, the domestic angel, everywhere shed her 
 benign influence on the convivial scene. She drank, 
 now morosely and with wrathful mutterings, now 
 with liquorish laughter and ribaldry, and anon with 
 cursings which made the hardened cold. Occasionally 
 she was young and good-looking ; oftener she was 
 fat, and sodden, and watery of eye, and dishevelled, 
 and disputatious, or scraggy, and old, and bleared, and 
 rheumy. And it appeared that the older and more 
 bleared she was, the better she loved her gin. Grand- 
 mothers taught granddaughters not to be afraid of 
 drink ; and in gratitude granddaughters " treated," 
 or got sweethearts to treat for them, till old knees 
 bent, and old tongues wagged blasphemously, some- 
 times till old heads rolled in the dust, and there were 
 cries of, " Hey ! ole gel, must carry yer licker better'n 
 that," and bursts of merriment over the plight of 
 dishonourable age. 
 
 At times the rough hand of the " chucker-out " was 
 seen. Once, as the three were passing a splendidly 
 illuminated palace, ornamented by a change-light 
 advertisement of MacTor's whiskey, the door opened, 
 and a woman was pitched head foremost into the 
 gutter. She scrambled up, dripping filth, and lurching 
 back, retorted upon those within. The next minute 
 she was in the gutter again. 
 
 Vincent's blood boiled. Running forward he 
 assisted her to her feet, asking if she were hurt. 
 
 " Hurt," she repeated, gazing unsteadily at him — 
 hurt : look at me. Do I look hurt ? 'E knows I aint 
 got no more coppers — 'e knows 'e's got 'em all ; an' 
 when I aint got no more I'm chucked. Gawd blast 
 'is soul !" And with that she made back once more, 
 to be delivered to the police.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 189 
 
 " Is this a common spectacle ? " asked Vincent 
 grimly. 
 
 " Come along any Saturday night an' see," was 
 the answer from Dick, " 'Tain't till near closin' time 
 as ye see the chuckin' out, not proper. 'Ullo ! there 
 goes another." 
 
 This time it was a man, and he was reflective 
 rather than noisy. 
 
 " I aint s' drunk," he said, sitting up and scratching 
 his head. " 'Sault 'n battery. I ain't s' drunk, 'pon 
 m' 'onour." 
 
 Dick gave him a hand up. 
 
 " Eh ! Johnny, time to go 'ome to yer 'ole woman," 
 said Mr. Goodman cheerfully. 
 
 " Mush 'bliged," said the man, trying to steady 
 himself — " mush 'bliged," and moved on, feeling the 
 wall as he went.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 " 'T~^OM, had you any idea all this existed next 
 
 J_ door ? " asked Vincent, as they, too, moved 
 off. 
 
 "A vague idea," answered Tapley. "One tastes 
 the thing in the precincts of the Royal Olympian, 
 you know. But I must say my knowledge is 
 wondrously increased and clarified. You don't look 
 happy, Vin." 
 
 " My ignorance is being dispelled somewhat 
 roughly. But we've begun and we'll go on, though 
 the finish should involve a walk along the sewers. 
 Eh ! Goodman ? " 
 
 Goodman responded that a knowledge of the beer- 
 shop should form part of every gentleman's education. 
 
 " Milk's good an' honey's good," said Dick, thinking 
 rcminiscently of the army chaplain's accounts of 
 Canaan, " an' there's worse things nor water in the 
 desert. But ye can 'ave 'em all, so long's ye give me 
 beer — an let it be Twickham, please." 
 
 Twickham it was, in a Twickham tied house which 
 chanced to be handy. On entering Vincent was 
 gratified by an air of decency and order not common 
 to East End public-houses. The house was clean, 
 well fitted out, well managed, and obviously prosperous, 
 being, indeed, at that moment so crammed the new 
 comers could hardly edge their way in. The landlord 
 bore the regulation trade mark — the flash studs, rings, 
 and chain, the red face, and Ealstaff waist. Neverthe- 
 
 190
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 191 
 
 less, his appearance suggested a humanity and an 
 intelligence rare among dispensers of the magic cup. 
 For the Twickhams took extreme pains to secure the 
 right men for their houses — men who had the art of 
 popularity, yet did not endanger a licence. The 
 landlord, noticing the trio, smiled blandly, though he 
 did not know them from Adam. It was his habit 
 to smile a welcome upon all respectable customers, 
 for, as he said, the practice paid and cost nothing. 
 
 " Appear to be pretty busy, sir," remarked Tapley, 
 acknowledging the salutation. 
 
 " Well," responded the landlord, looking round 
 with a complacent grin, " don't take much to coax 
 'em to drink, do it ? " 
 
 " No, indeed," rejoined Tapley ; " one sees they 
 tumble it off with great gusto. I take it the chief 
 thing for a roaring trade is the right stuff." 
 
 " An' I reckon w^e give 'em thatl' said the landlord, 
 cocking his head as one who knows — " yes, I reckon 
 we give 'em tJiat. You'd travel a bit before beatin' 
 Twickham — a longish bit." 
 
 " Join us in a glass of it ? " said Tapley, with a wink 
 at Vincent. 
 
 " Gcttin' kind of 'ot — don't mind if I do," came 
 affably from the landlord ; and a smart barmaid, 
 flushed with heat and flattery, pumped them four 
 glasses. 
 
 It was almost impossible to keep pace with the 
 demand. The ivory handles went up and down 
 unceasingly ; unceasingly the till-bell rang, and the 
 empty glasses went to the wash-basin, Vincent looked 
 round the thirsty crowd feeling a glow of pride. 
 This was appreciation indeed ; here was the popu- 
 larity which made the Twickham coffers overflow. 
 
 " How long have you been in this house, sir ? " he 
 asked, turning to the landlord. 
 
 *' This 'ouse, let me see. Three year exactly — three
 
 192 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 year nigh a day. When we took the place over it 
 was a East End 'ovel. What does Lord Twickham 
 do ? ' No go for me,' says 'e ; an' down comes the 
 'ovel an' up goes this, as you see it. The 'ovel does 
 ten barrels a week o' bad beer ; we does more'n 
 a 'undred of the best that is brewed. An' I tell you, 
 it's rising steady. If you was to say to me, sir, that 
 there's anythink better'n Twickham in the market, 
 I should take the liberty of replyin' as it ain't true." 
 
 " Competition keen ? " asked Tapley. 
 
 " Competition ? " repeated the landlord, a withering 
 scorn in his tone — " competition ? Yus, wot some 
 calls competition." He leaned forward, one eye closed, 
 and his voice lowered confidentially. "There ain't 
 no competition when Twickham's about. 'Andy 
 'ere there's a place — I won't name no names, but ye 
 wouldn't be done up travellin' to get to it. Well, 
 the 'ouse I mean be a tied 'ouse, rival o' Twickham's 
 — though, bless you ! there ain't no rival, not proper. 
 An' wot 'appens ? " He put his hand to the side of 
 his mouth, bending still more confidentially. " They 
 uses their beer to flush their sewers. Yus, sir, pours 
 it down the drains." 
 
 " The idiots ! " ejaculated Tapley. " What do they 
 do that for?" 
 
 " Ye ain't in our trade, sir, I can see. There be such 
 a thing as keepin' up appearances ; may 'ave 'eard 
 that. They wants good returns, so many barrels 
 a month ; people don't want the stuff. Wot are they 
 to do ? Why, put it down the sink. They say as 
 the rats do lie about drunk." 
 
 He drew himself up chuckling. 
 
 " You don't find it necessary to flush with 
 Twickham," remarked Tapley. 
 
 " Wot d'ye think ? Look round you ; why, they 
 takes it like mother's milk." 
 
 " A little more for ycrself, then," suggested Dick,
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 193 
 
 who was always put out by the sight of empty 
 glasses. 
 
 But the landlord thought he'd better not have any 
 more beer. 
 
 " Drop of port wine, if you please," he said, and 
 fiiled himself a glass from a large decanter. 
 
 " 'Old 'ard there ! " cried Dick. " None o' yer cold 
 tea tricks." 
 
 " In our business arter all ? " said the landlord, 
 turning sharply. 
 
 " Never mind," returned Dick. " Tain't friendly to 
 swill cold tea when gen'lemen asks ye to 'ave good 
 ale with 'em." 
 
 Not wishing to understand too much, Vincent 
 looked round on the crowd. It was becoming every 
 minute more and more closely packed, the women 
 being almost as numerous and jovial as the men ; and 
 he was surprised to see many of them taking whiskey. 
 
 " Duncan should be here," whispered Tapley, who 
 had also noted the run on whiskey. " I tell you his 
 throat-scorcher is going." 
 
 Before Vincent could answer, the door opened and 
 a white face was thrust in. It was a woman's face, 
 wasted pitifully, but in that moment tense with the 
 fury of the tigress. The blazing eyes fastened on a 
 man convivially engaged in a corner. 
 
 " Jim, you come 'ome out of that," said their owner, 
 in a voice shrill with passion. 
 
 "You go to " retorted Jim, the scowl of the 
 
 insulted lord on his brow, adding he would indulge 
 himself in a general holocaust if her persecutions did 
 not cease. 
 
 The landlord was instantly on his majesty. He 
 knew husbands and wives must have differences — it 
 was so ordained by nature ; but he pointed out that 
 a public-house was hardly a suitable place of settle- 
 ment. 
 
 13
 
 194 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Can't 'ave no rowin' 'ere," he said, with the jerk 
 of the head which was law. 
 
 The woman turned on him vehemently. 
 
 " No," she cried, " ye can't 'ave no rowin', ye grinnin' 
 pot o' ale ; but ye can take my man's last copper, an' 
 leave me an' the kids to starve — ye can do that." 
 
 Next moment a man had taken the transgressor 
 firmly by the arm. 
 
 " Can't 'ave no 'owlin' dervishes 'ere, missis," he 
 remarked, leading her forth. " There ! " and the door 
 closed behind her. 
 
 Jim emptied his glass without budging. 
 
 " Women are like mills, always wanting something," 
 said a thin, shaky voice. " My friend, your marital 
 felicity's at a discount to-night. The lady will comb 
 your hair." 
 
 The speaker was a young man, and evidently as 
 much out of favour with fortune as Jim with his wife. 
 Though the place was suffocatingly warm, his frayed 
 coat was buttoned tight to the throat. His face was 
 mottled, and his eye beery and bloodshot. There 
 were men about him with tightly buttoned coats and 
 beery, bloodshot eyes, but they were as congruous 
 as a chromo on a cobbler's wall. A child could have 
 told that this man, with the tremulous voice and the 
 elegant accent, was a foreigner in Alsatia. A tumbler, 
 with a piece of lemon-peel in the bottom stood before 
 him. The liquid was already a reminiscence. 
 
 Having uttered his jest, he fumbled in his vest 
 pocket, and producing a few coppers, which he 
 counted with miserly care, asked a barmaid to be 
 good enough to repeat the dose. 
 
 As he raised his glass to drink, he caught Tapley's 
 eye and bowed ceremoniously. The next minute he 
 was crossing the room, a hundred amused eyes fol- 
 lowing him. 
 
 " I hope I do not intrude," he said, bowing again.
 
 TPdline on tbe Xees 195 
 
 " Not at all," replied Tapley. " We're in a public 
 place ; it's free to all." 
 
 " We're in a tavern, sir," rejoined the stranger 
 gravely, " and theoretically a tavern is free to all. But, 
 sir, you needn't be as old as Methuselah to discover that 
 practice and theory conflict — ay, conflict grievously. 
 Somebody proved this by a very pretty syllogism, 
 which, unfortunately, I've forgotten. My memory is 
 not what it was ; perhaps, sir, you'll sympathise and 
 excuse. As to the tavern you may, it is true, enter — 
 if you are sober enough (though you witnessed the 
 repulse of the lady just now), but you shall not 
 accomplish the main purpose minus the wherewithal — 
 which is to say, you shall not drink unless you pay. 
 Ergo, a tavern is not free. I trust, sir," addressing 
 Dick, whose expression was scornful — " I trust my 
 presence is not disagreeable to you." 
 
 " Welcome's a fightin' cock," answered Dick. 
 " Only kind o' rummy." 
 
 " Kind o' rummy," repeated the stranger, as if 
 weighing the words. " Perhaps so, yet — but never 
 mind that. For ought I know you may be a 
 philosopher, one of the catholic sect who make a 
 temple of the tavern, believing human nature can best 
 be studied in its cups. If so, will you favour me with 
 light on one or two simple questions — as, for example, 
 why men drink." 
 
 " Because they likes it, old fellow." 
 
 The stranger's gravity deepened. 
 
 " They like it," he said, as if pondering deepl)'. 
 " It has been proved, I believe, that one and one make 
 two. The crux, my dear sir, is, who implanted the 
 hking?" 
 
 " God A'mighty, I should think," replied Dick, with 
 a roar of laughter. 
 
 " Yes, must have been God Almighty," assented 
 the stranger, "unless the devil had a finger in that
 
 196 Mfne on tbe Xees 
 
 pie also. One never knows. However, let us assume 
 you are right ; then comes the why, the wherefore." 
 
 Dick looked puzzled. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the stranger, in sudden animation, 
 " I thought you couldn't take that wall. I've seen 
 a right reverend bishop come a cropper on it. The 
 why and the wherefore — the wherefore and the why. 
 Can you," raising his glass, " explain philosophically 
 why I find this delectable ? " 
 
 " Because it's good," said Dick, with emphasis. 
 
 " As near absolute truth as possible," rejoined the 
 stranger. " It is good. I have proved it, and it was 
 a special Scotch hot — that is to say, a hot MacTor, with 
 the eighth of an inch of lemon paring to flavour it. 
 Some people prefer MacTor neat. It matters not : 
 it is good ; and MacTor is a public benefactor. So 
 sir," bowing to the landlord, " is he who keeps a 
 tavern and dispenses universal consolation. 
 
 ' I wonder often what the vintners buy 
 
 One half so precious as the stuff they sell.' 
 
 That, sir, is Omar, a lover of the tavern. 
 
 " 'Omer? " said the landlord. 
 
 •' No, sir — not Homer, though he, too, sang of the 
 wine cup like a lover. As a Greek scholar your mind 
 naturally ran on Greece. My nightingale sang in 
 Persia, a most wise, sweet song, and desired for his 
 monument an empty glass." 
 
 He looked ruefully at his own. Then fumbling 
 once more in his vest pocket he produced fivepence 
 ha'penny. His face fell as over a cruel disappoint- 
 ment. Again he searched his pocket, as a starving 
 man might search a wallet, feeling in every corner 
 through the tattered lining for an extra copper. Dick 
 watched with deep sympathy and appreciation. How 
 often had he, too, hunted for that odd penny which 
 meant another drink. Yet again the stranger counted
 
 Wine on tbe Xees 197 
 
 his coppers ; but he could make the sum no more 
 than fivcpence ha'-penny. Convinced of that, he 
 returned fourpence to his pocket. 
 
 " Price of a bed in a doss-house," said Dick to 
 himself ; and he knew how the man was torn between 
 a passion for liquor and the desire to sleep on straw 
 instead of a doorstep or under an archway, 
 
 " If I were not for the moment at odds with Lady 
 Fortune," said the stranger suavely, holding three 
 ha'-pennies between finger and thumb, " I should 
 certainly do myself the honour of inviting you to 
 drink with me." 
 
 " Let the honour be with us," responded Tapley. 
 
 " Sir," said the stranger, bowing profoundly, " you 
 are exceedingly polite. It will gratify one to pledge 
 you." 
 
 It was in MacTor hot he did it ; and as in the 
 warmth of a new friendship he chanced to empty his 
 glass at a gulp, he accepted another, his eye visibly 
 moistening. Dick studied him with mingled pity 
 and amusement. 
 
 " Down on yer luck, eh, matey ? " asked the man 
 of the world. 
 
 " You have divined an unfortunate fact," returned 
 the stranger, blinking curiously. " The Lady Fortune 
 has used me abominably — abominably. 
 
 ' Oh ! many a cup of this forbidden wine 
 Must drown the memory of that insolence.' 
 
 Gentlemen, your health ! " 
 
 There was such ardent drinking of healths, that 
 presently the stranger began to exhibit signs of 
 overdone conviviality. He mixed up his phrases, his 
 politeness became mere travesty, and he dwelt with 
 maudlin pathos on the evils endured by the righteous 
 in an unfeeling world. All at once he called atten- 
 tion to the fact that the glasses were empty ; but
 
 198 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 at that the landlord bent over the counter, asking 
 quietly, — 
 
 " Ain't you 'bout 'ad enough, guv'nor ? " 
 
 " Shir," retorted the stranger, " a gen'man can besh 
 judge of sush things for 'mshelf." 
 
 " I'd go 'ome if I was you," said the landlord. 
 
 The stranger looked him over, swaying unsteadily. 
 
 "If you tell me the way I shall be s'bliged," was 
 the response. 
 
 But Vincent whispered in Tapley's ear; and Tapley, 
 turning with a smile, said, — 
 
 " Come, old fellow, time we were off." 
 
 " Yesh," answered the stranger meekly, and followed 
 them.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 OUTSIDE there was a sudden change of weather. 
 It had rained a little deluge, and the long per- 
 spectives of liquid mud had the dismal effect for which 
 miry London streets, glimmering in gaslight, are 
 unrivalled. It was cold, too. Even such as had dined 
 well and could button thick coats over warm blood 
 felt the wind nip ; unfortunates who never dined at 
 all, or whose blood and clothes were thin, felt it at 
 their marrow. The stranger looked along the muddy 
 desolation and shivered. 
 
 " Ugh ! " he said, " cold, wet, nashty. I'll go back." 
 And before the others could raise a protest he had 
 wheeled and re-passed the swing-door. 
 
 " Seems to me I know that man," said Vincent, 
 turning to Tapley. 
 
 " Know him," cried Tapley, in astonishment. 
 
 "Yes; and if I'm right, though he's fearfully 
 changed, his name is Herbert Ingledew. We were 
 college chums for a while." 
 
 " Great Scot ! and what made him a public-house 
 sponge ? " 
 
 " Precisely what I should like to find out. He was 
 always a man of pleasure — set the pace with wine- 
 parties and all that. Let's follow him." 
 
 As they entered the stranger was deep in argument 
 with the landlord. 
 
 " We can't 'ave no drunk men 'ere a-causin' a 
 distu'bince," the landlord was saying. 
 
 199
 
 200 Wine on tbe Xces 
 
 " Drunk ! " echoed the other, drawing himself up to 
 the best of his ability. " Shir, you're inshulting." 
 
 With a nod of intelligence to the landlord, Vincent 
 stepped forward and touched the hypothetical Ingle- 
 dew on the arm. 
 
 "Mr. Ingledew, I think," he said softly. 
 
 In spite of the stupor of drink Ingledew started. 
 
 " Shir," he responded, swaying like a scarecrow in a 
 tempest, " my name's Johnson ; and thish beast's 
 inshulted me," bobbing his head at the landlord. 
 
 " Come, old fellow," whispered Vincent, taking his 
 arm, " I want to speak to you." 
 
 " Want shomething to drink first," was the dogged 
 reply. " Thesh the coin ; MacTor hot, pleash." 
 
 " Not if you was to lay down gold for it," said the 
 landlord. 
 
 " Not s'much's a heel tap ? " 
 
 " Not so much's a heel tap." 
 
 In that instant a man laid a beer-glass on the 
 counter, with half a teaspoonful of dregs in the 
 bottom. Quick as thought the stranger clutched it 
 and drained it dry. 
 
 " Not heel tap," he muttered — " not heel tap. 
 He, he ! Beashtly shame," and he raked in his 
 coppers. 
 
 " Come, out'n this," thundered the landlord. 
 
 And Vincent, tightening his grip, repeated, 
 " Come ! " 
 
 " Whatsh you want me for, eh ? " asked the man, 
 leering helplessly. " Whatsh been up to now, eh ? 
 Plecsh-court ? " 
 
 " A month 'ard an' yer 'air cut," put in a bystander, 
 whereupon there was a roar. 
 
 " Ta-ta, mate. 'Ope as you'll 'ave a good time," 
 added another ; and to the sound of ironical laughter 
 the stranger marched out between Vincent and 
 Tapley, Dick following as rear guard.
 
 ixainc on tbe Xecs 201 
 
 " Where do you live ? " asked Vincent, when they 
 were beyond the range of satire. 
 
 " Eh ? " came deliberately and a trifle defiantly. 
 
 " Where do you live ? " 
 
 " Where do I live ? Anywhere ; not particular. 
 Doss-house — cellar — anywhere," and he blinked at 
 Vincent in a kind of inane triumph. 
 
 " And your name is Ingledew — Herbert Ingledew." 
 
 " 'Tec, eh ? " inquired the supposed Ingledew, 
 retiring a step. 
 
 " Buck up ! " put in Dick impatiently, " Can't ye 
 see, ye bloomin' goose, as the gentleman wants to be 
 friendly." 
 
 " Wantsh to be friendly," repeated the other, with 
 extreme gravity. " Thatsh odd." 
 
 " I assure you our motives are indeed of the 
 friendliest," said Vincent. " Now forgive my asking 
 a well meant question. You're Herbert Ingledew, 
 aren't you ? " 
 
 The man took an involuntary step backward, 
 swayed perilously, drew himself together, and advanced 
 to his old position, keeping a solemn eye on his 
 questioner. 
 
 " No," he answered with great deliberation — " no." 
 
 " Ten years ago were you not at ? " naming 
 
 a famous college at a famous university. 
 
 " Yesh." 
 
 " And you're not Herbert Ingledew ? " 
 
 « No." 
 
 He staggered, spun mysteriously on his heels, tilted 
 suddenly, recovered in defiance of gravitation, and 
 repeated, " No." 
 
 " Shatisfied ? " he demanded, after a pause. 
 
 "This is very odd," rejoined Vincent good- 
 
 humouredly. " Ten years ago you were at , 
 
 and yet you're not Herbert Ingledew." 
 
 " No."
 
 202 Mine on the Xees 
 
 It was then Dick had an inspiration born of a 
 profound knowledge of drunkenness. 
 
 " Wot was you ten years ago, mate ? " he asked 
 insinuatingly. 
 
 " Undergrad. at " 
 
 " Quite so ; but the name — no 'tec. business. Wot 
 did they call ye ? " 
 
 " Herbert Ingledew." 
 
 " An' wot are ye now ? " 
 
 " Dr. Samuel Johnson." 
 
 Tapley roared. 
 
 " Making dictionaries? " he cried. 
 
 " No," replied Dr. Johnson seriously. " Odd 
 scholarly jobs — reciting, inditing, write letters 
 shometimes ; make a little." 
 
 As he said this he lurched forward, and would 
 have fallen but for the timely aid of Dick. 
 
 " Bit rocky on yer pins," remarked Mr. Goodman 
 sympathetically. " Come, buck up ; don't want to 
 be leavin' our cards on ye at police court fust thing 
 Monday mornin'." 
 
 " Shcrtainly not," rejoined Ingledew, lurching again. 
 
 " Good God ! " ejaculated Vincent, musing aloud. His 
 thought was, " And this is Ingledew — Herbert Ingle- 
 dew, of the flash wine-parties and the fancy horses." 
 
 It would have been incredible, but for the palpable 
 evidence of the wreck, helplessly rocking there in 
 the wind and rain. 
 
 " Where d'ye 'old out ? " asked Dick, pursuing 
 his investigations — " where's yer snoozin' box ? " 
 
 " Friendliesht motives," murmured Mr. Ingledew — 
 " friendliesht motives." Then he gave the name 
 and number of a street in Spitalficlds. 
 
 Dick whistled. 
 
 " Bad ? " enquired Vincent. 
 
 " If Olc Nick has wus, I pity 'im, that's all," was 
 the answer.
 
 Mine on tbe Xecs 203 
 
 "Then he'd better not go there in his present 
 condition," suggested Vincent. 
 
 Ingledevv, whose chin was deep in his breast as if 
 he were lost in thought, instantly lifted his head. 
 
 " Oh yesh, he'll go," he put in — " musht go." 
 
 If he were thwarted there might be a scene, and 
 Saturday night scenes in the open street are things 
 to be avoided by all who have characters to lose. 
 Besiides, they knew no other lodging to which 
 Ingledew could be taken. So Dick hailed a battered 
 growler on the prowl for a drunken fare, and the 
 four were driven to the address named. 
 
 To visitors from the world of respectability one 
 doss-house differs from another just as widely as 
 differ two peas in a pod. You enter an ever open 
 door, make your way along a darksome passage, like 
 the corridor of a jail out of love with sanitation, until 
 you are brought up sharp by the deputy. Sometimes 
 this deputy is a man, sometimes a woman. If a 
 man, you instantly recognise a master of trip-hammer 
 fists ; even in the woman you are confronted by an 
 athlete, trained to deliver the shoulder-blow as part 
 of the nightly routine. Materialising suddenly out 
 of nothingness, he or she blocks the way, scrutinising 
 you as if to discover to what particular branch of 
 crime you devote yourself Occasionally this por- 
 tentous figure surveys you in grim silence, and, at 
 most, its speech is generally confined to a mono- 
 syllabic statement of prices. These vary according 
 to taste and means. If you are down on your luck 
 and therefore economic, fourpencc is the figure ; if 
 flush and " going the pace," sixpence ; in the Grand 
 Hotels and Carltons it may rise to a shilling. The 
 coin transferred, you are turned loose into the great 
 common room or kitchen, in which vice, crime, 
 disease, deformity, and misfortune herd. 
 
 Innocence getting a glimpse of these chosen resorts
 
 204 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 imagines that one refuge is precisely like another. 
 Therein innocence errs. For this subterranean world, 
 no less than the upper sphere of sun and air and 
 decency, has its bon ton, its class distinctions, which 
 are as nicely observed as in May fair itself The 
 common thief, having a professional status, scorns 
 the tramp or petty huckster ; in turn, the thriving 
 burglar disdains the common thief ; the gentleman 
 who has risked his neck and got off by " doing time " 
 flouts the man of jemmies who resigns " swag " 
 because it would cost blood ; and with one accord 
 they all contemn the nondescript who exists at 
 starvation point, no one knows how. The Ingle- 
 dews, being without art or craft, swarm to the 
 lowest doss-houses, and endure the grossest abuse of 
 Alsatia. 
 
 At this particular establishment it was clear Mr. 
 Ingledew was well known. The deputy, a solid block 
 of brawn, five feet eight and forty-three round the 
 chest, eyed him severely as he shuffled in. 
 
 " 'Ere again, and drunk as usual," said the official 
 testily. "Alius on the batter. You are a beauty, 
 you are." 
 
 Ingledew affected to smile. 
 
 " Yesh," he answered meekly, presenting the essential 
 coppers. " Ther'sh the cash." 
 
 He was passing on, but remembering his bene- 
 factors, wheeled, struck the wall, and rebounded 
 against the deputy. 
 
 "Now then, wot are you a-shovin' about?" de- 
 manded the man gruffly. " Want to light on ycr 
 bloomin' nut outside, p'r'aps." 
 
 " Fricndlicsht motives," mumbled Mr. Ingledew, 
 gaping at his friends. " Shaw mc home." 
 
 With that, he turned abruptly, entering the room 
 at a run. His plain intention was to make for a 
 bench on the far side ; but taking no note of obstacles,
 
 XKaine on tbc Xees 205 
 
 he crashed broadside into a woman retiring from the 
 fire with a black, smoking tin can. Being knocked 
 out of her hand, its contents poured on the head of a 
 child, who started up screeching. The next moment 
 Mr. Ingledew was stretched on the floor with the 
 amazon dancing about him. 
 
 " Spilt the coker and burned the kid," she cried, 
 letting him have her boot toe in the ribs. " Get up, 
 ye swine, till I dekirate yer face." 
 
 As she spoke a man leaped to her side with a 
 blistering curse. The next instant the deputy was 
 among them. 
 
 " Now then," he roared, " if it's smashin' ye want, 
 just say so. Come," he added, grabbing Ingledew by 
 the coat-collar and lifting him to his feet, " you 
 tumble off to bed, if ye ain't 'itchin' to be made into 
 putty. There, steady ! Wots them bloomin' legs of 
 yours made of, anyway ? " 
 
 " An' wot 'bout my coker, as I ain't got a cent to 
 buy more wif?" demanded the woman, dodging as 
 for a crack at Ingledew. 
 
 " Yes," put in the man, " wot 'bout 'er coker ? 
 an' wot 'bout the kid as'll 'ave to be took to 
 'orspital ? " 
 
 Ingledew was bundled out of sight ; and then, as 
 Vincent's agent, Dick poured oil on the troubled 
 waters. As a friend of the man who had so unluckily 
 caused the damage, he begged the woman to accept 
 sixpence for her lost cocoa, and would the " kid " 
 accept another sixpence, and perhaps it needn't go 
 to 'orspital after all. The woman accepted the 
 proffered coin in discharge of all claims for spilt 
 cocoa ; but the father of the child declared he couldn't 
 think of squaring for less than a bob. 
 
 " An' bloomin' cheap at that, too," he said, casting 
 an eye over his offspring. 
 
 Negotiations satisfactorily closed, Vincent took the
 
 2o6 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 deputy aside, and there was heard the pleasant chink 
 of silver. 
 
 " Yes, sir," came immediately afterwards from the 
 deputy. " You may depend, sir, I'll look arter 'im. 
 'E do booze beyond all reason, 'e do. Glad to see 
 you again. Good-night, sir ; good-night, gentlemen." 
 And he bowed them into the street.
 
 16ook IV 
 
 207
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 WHILE Vincent and his friends were deep in 
 their studies of East End sociality, England 
 had the misfortune to lose a prized political idol. 
 On the next Sunday, as a felicitous Providence 
 ordained, the Bishop of Blockley preached in West- 
 minster Abbey, and it was felt he could not possibly 
 get out of a panegyric on the man to whom he owed 
 his bishopric. When Dr. Tinkle consented to 
 expound the Gospel in town, the throng which in- 
 vaded the favoured church was as that which buzzes 
 in a West End theatre on a first night. In this 
 instance, the press was denser and the congregation 
 even more fashionable than usual. Lady Twickham 
 occupied a position near the pulpit, whence she 
 could observe the chief performer with ease ; and 
 she brought with her Lord Twickham, whose admira- 
 tion for the fashionable divine fell just a trifle short 
 of a burning desire to hear him sermonise. Lady 
 Gwendoline and Vincent were likewise present ; and 
 Miss Lush worshipped between the pale face of 
 Tapley and the red beard of MacTor. Indeed, half 
 Mayfair contrived to squeeze itself into the Abbey ; 
 for Mayfair has a taste for things funereal when the 
 accessories are dramatic and appropriate. It was 
 understood the Recording Angel had a busy half- 
 hour of it when the Bishop of Blockley preached. 
 On the virtues of the political idol lately taken 
 
 ao9 14
 
 2IO Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 away he surpassed himself. Let none imaghie that 
 politicians are always eminent according to their skill 
 in trimming or in swallowing principles. The great 
 man, whose translation to Paradise Dr. Tinkle so 
 touchingly deplored, strove for place out of pure 
 benevolence. A political saint (especially happy in 
 his ecclesiastical appointments), his one aim was to 
 aid in the upward progress of the race. And he had 
 the uncommon felicity of seeing his aspirations 
 fulfilled. The preacher drew an enchanting picture 
 of a world turning its back on all manner of wicked- 
 ness — ay, even of pleasure — from a desire to rise to 
 the height of noble ideals ; and he dwelt with melting 
 unction on the — 
 
 " One far-off divine event 
 To which the whole creation moves " ; 
 
 an event, the bishop ventured to think, which might 
 not ba so far off as the prophet-poet imagined. 
 
 Such of the congregation as had not their sensi- 
 bilities well in hand breathed excitedly. The 
 unregenerate Tapley yawned ; then all at once he 
 grinned, thinking of Saturday night's experiences, of 
 Dick, and Herbert Ingledew, alias Dr. Samuel 
 Johnson, of flaring dramshops, of dishevelled, fighting, 
 red-eyed men and women, of alcoholic laughter and 
 language which would give the Bishop a fit ; and 
 while he thought there fell on his ears the honeyed 
 accents in which Dr. Tinkle described mankind 
 striving in competitive enterprises of godliness. 
 
 " Poor old Tinkle ! " he said to himself " Is it 
 possible he believes all that stuff? " 
 
 With that he leaned towards Miss Lush, whispering 
 in her little pink ear, — 
 
 " Put in your next book that the devil's sick and 
 dying." 
 
 Miss Lush replied with an arch glance which said
 
 Mine on tbe Xces 211 
 
 he was exceedingly naughty to mention such a thing 
 in such a place, but, being a man, was forgiven. 
 
 The service over, she coyly rebuked him, declaring 
 Dr. Tinkle was " a dear, good soul," and appealing to 
 Lady Twickham for confirmation. 
 
 " Yes," said her ladyship, looking significantly at 
 Tapley ; " it would be well for the world if we had 
 more Tinkles." 
 
 Tapley gallantly agreed ; but within an hour he 
 was remarking to his brother-in-law, — • 
 
 " I say, Vin, are bishops paid for concealing the 
 truth ? Think of what we saw last night and heard 
 to-day." 
 
 " You musn't be unreasonable," returned Vincent, 
 a strange light in his eye. " Hasn't a wise man 
 declared that a discarded mistress isn't half so 
 dangerous as truth ? You wouldn't have the clergy 
 wantonly getting into trouble, would you ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," rejoined Tapley, scratching his 
 head. " But what boggles me is this, if bishops are 
 afraid of the truth, how's a poor, misdirected devil to 
 get to Heaven ? " 
 
 " There's the old-fashioned way," said Vincent. 
 " I'm not sure what the latest routes are. I say, are 
 we Christians ? " 
 
 '' Supposed to be. Why ? " 
 
 " Don't know exactly. The Sermon on the Mount 
 came into my head. You can't account for coinci- 
 dences of thought." 
 
 " The Sermon on the Mount ! Can't say I re- 
 member much of it. ' Blessed are the poor, for they 
 
 shall ' I forget precisely what was to happen. 
 
 Might be described as slightly Utopian, mightn't it ? " 
 " Daresay. The idea that occurred to me was, 
 what would be the effect if things were managed on 
 the principles of the Sermon on the Mount ? " 
 
 " Chaos, my boy — chaos," returned Tapley emphati-
 
 212 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 cally. " Couldn't be done. Why, bless my soul ! 
 imagine MacTor running his whiskey show on such 
 lines. Wouldn't hold out a week. But Duncan's 
 much too 'cute to try that method." 
 
 " You think it would mean ruin ? " 
 
 " Instant and complete, my boy — instant and com- 
 plete. And as for the St. Edmund Brewery, why " 
 
 He raised his hands and laughed. 
 
 " Well, what of the St Edmund Brewery ? " asked 
 Vincent, feeling as if an exposed nerve had been 
 touched. 
 
 " You might shut up shop, knock the bungs out 
 of the barrels, and let the stuff run. Vin, we're not 
 afraid of the truth, whatever right reverends may be ; 
 and, between ourselves, beer doesn't make for righteous- 
 ness. Try to imagine a man, bung full of Tvvickham, 
 thumbing the golden harp. Don't be disquieted ; but 
 the thing's impossible." 
 
 And though Vincent laughed, it was as a man 
 laughs under an icy douche unexpectedly turned on. 
 
 A little later Lady Gwendoline was rallying him 
 on his depressing seriousness. By chance, that after- 
 noon husband and wife had an hour to themselves 
 between engagements, and Lady Gwendoline hinted 
 there was business to transact affecting her happiness. 
 " And what is the business ? " enquired Vincent play- 
 fully. 
 
 She took a gorgeously embroidered hassock, and 
 sitting on it at his feet, looked up in her most 
 entrancing manner. 
 
 " Is it very wicked to talk business on Sunday ? " 
 she asked, the prettiest fear of doing wrong expressed 
 in her face. L'or answer, he bent down and kissed 
 her. 
 
 " You're so serious, Vin, I didn't know whether 
 I might speak," she went on sweetly. " Indeed — 
 indeed, Vin, you did look grave."
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 213 
 
 He expressed contrition, and promised to keep a 
 brighter countenance. 
 
 " I have noticed you several times looking serious 
 of late, dear. Vin, are you unhappy ? Is anything 
 troubling you ? " 
 
 " Unhappy ! " he cried, looking in her eyes with 
 the ecstasy of a lover — " unhappy, Gwen, beside you ! " 
 
 " And yet," she said, the suggestion of a pout in 
 the corners of her mouth, " you go away night after 
 night with Tom, and never tell me where you've 
 been." 
 
 " You are always so much engaged, I haven't the 
 chance. You shall know presently. Meantime, my 
 little Gwen has something to ask." 
 
 They had gone more directly to the point than 
 she intended, but the most dexterous manoeuvering 
 could scarcely have accomplished her purpose more 
 happily. For half a second she hung her head, toying 
 with a lace handkerchief; then she looked up, a 
 resistless smile lighting her face. She had a con- 
 fession to make ; she had been a naughty girl of late. 
 Vincent warmly denied it. He was good — very good ; 
 but let him wait and hear. No ; he wouldn't wait 
 and hear — that is to say, he wouldn't listen to any 
 self-blame. How good he was, the dear boy ! Well, 
 he knew what was expected of her as his wife. She 
 found to her dismay, and her dismay was ravishing 
 to look upon — she found she had inadvertently been 
 exceeding her allowance. She had been spending 
 too freely, because she was his wife. He laughed 
 and kissed her again. Money — why, wasn't money 
 made to be spent ? Yes, doubtless. All the same, 
 she had been spending too freely. 
 
 " You know, Vin, dear, you have been so good," 
 she said, holding up her face to his, " And I'm such 
 a duffer at accounts and reckoning that — that I've 
 got a little into debt."
 
 214 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 "Is that all ? " he asked, taking the upturned face 
 rapturously between his hands. 
 
 Yes, that was all. 
 
 " You foolish little woman ! " he cooed, bending over 
 her — "you foolish, foolish little woman ! " 
 
 " Kiss me, Vin," she said ; and he kissed her yet 
 again. 
 
 Then he said that on the morrow her bank account 
 should be put right. 
 
 " I'll be more careful for the future," she promised 
 demurely. 
 
 " If you are I shall not love you half so much," was 
 the response. 
 
 " Dear, good boy ! " she murmured, smuggling closer 
 to him. " Everybody envies me," she went on, after 
 a pause of perfect bliss. " It's nice to be rich, isn't 
 it, Vin?" 
 
 " Do they say we are rich ? " he asked, fondling her 
 hair. 
 
 " In every way, except directly by words. The 
 other day, for instance, Lady Tupton was admiring 
 my chestnuts and wishing she could afford prize 
 horses. Her manner said I could afford anything." 
 
 • Well, thank God, you can," said Vincent — 
 " mostly anything." 
 
 Never before had the Twickham millions been 
 so sweet as they were in that moment of enchant- 
 ment. 
 
 " We are very rich," murmured the enchantress 
 at his feet. 
 
 " We are," he answered. 
 
 A delicious thrill ran through Lady Gwendoline. 
 Her heaven was realised. She had more money than 
 any other young wife in England. " More money," 
 she thought, sighing out of pure happiness. But she 
 must take an interest in her husband's affairs, so she 
 asked when he meant to make his next speech in
 
 xminc on tl3e Xees 215 
 
 the House. " I am going to be very proud of you," 
 she added radiantly. 
 
 " You arc goin^i^ to be proud of me ? " 
 
 "Well, you know what I mean, you perverse 
 boy. I am proud of you, only, you see, it's private 
 pride. Sir Richard," meaning a famous political 
 leader, " said lots of nice things about you at Lady 
 Rumbury's reception the other evening. Ever so 
 many people are waiting for your next speech. When 
 is it to come ? " 
 
 " I don't know," he answered. " Perhaps never." 
 
 " Never," she echoed — " never. Why, the battle 
 isn't over, is it ? " 
 
 " No; I think it's just beginning, little woman." 
 
 He was stroking her cheek unconsciously. All at 
 once she drew herself up, turned and looked him 
 squarely in the eyes. 
 
 " Why, Vin, you have the tone of one talking in 
 riddles," she said. 
 
 " You have a quick imagination," was the answer. 
 
 Finding himself free he rose and strode round the 
 room. 
 
 " Vin," she cried, leaping up and going to him, 
 " something's the matter. Tell me what it is." 
 
 " The matter, sweetheart ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ! I'm sure there's something wrong." 
 
 He turned and paced the room again, his head bent, 
 his fingers working nervously. Suddenly he pulled 
 up, facing his wife. 
 
 " Gwen," he said, " I am going to tell you something 
 of which you mustn't speak." 
 
 "Yes, dear." 
 
 " You remember how they twitted me in the House 
 with ignorance of my own business. Well, they were 
 right." 
 
 " Right ? " 
 
 "Yes, I was grossly ignorant. You said just now
 
 2i6 Mine on tbc Xces 
 
 I went out without telling you where. I'll tell you 
 now. I went to gather facts, so that I might refute 
 the slanders of my opponents. Clerks and ledgers 
 will give quantities, but I wanted to see the people 
 drinking. So Tom and I went out Haroun Alraschid 
 style." 
 
 " And you have seen ? " 
 
 " The effects of drink." 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Gwendoline, startled by his tone, 
 " But that was a mere frolic." 
 
 " A very serious frolic, Gwen. I have seen what I 
 shall not forget." 
 
 " Vin, you did not allow yourself to be shocked. 
 The other side must not be allowed to triumph." 
 
 " Gwen — Gwen," cried Vincent, and it seemed the 
 words were torn from his heart, " I would give fifty 
 thousand pounds to have my old ignorance restored."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE call came in the House of Commons, and 
 Vincent sat still, sat chin in breast, knowing 
 what that dereliction of duty meant. Lord Twickham 
 chanced to be at Twickham Towers, but hurried up 
 to town, and in the evening dined quietly with his son. 
 They rose early from the wine, conversation having 
 failed, and turned into the library, Vincent's heart 
 beating an agonising quick step. Noticing his son's 
 agitation, Lord Twickham slowly lighted a cigar and 
 passed his case, which Vincent took as one about to 
 be executed might take a glass of brandy. For 
 perhaps two minutes there was silence ; then Fate 
 began to speak. 
 
 " I have taken the first opportunity, Vin," said 
 Lord Twickham, " to find out what your silence in 
 the House means. Brewers attacked in the Commons, 
 a Twickham present, and not a word in defence. I 
 am puzzled, and have come for an explanation." 
 
 A feeling of suffocation came upon Vincent. The 
 rigours of cramp were in his throat ; he could hardly 
 articulate. 
 
 " The fact is, sir," he gasped, " I don't think I'm 
 fit for the House of Commons." 
 
 " Not fit for the House of Commons," repeated 
 Lord Twickham, dwelling on the words in a tone 
 equally expressive of irritation and astonishment. 
 " What nonsense is this ? Have the goodness to tell 
 
 217
 
 2i8 limine on tbe Xees 
 
 me what's behind. I expect my son to be quite frank 
 with me." 
 
 Again there came upon Vincent that cruel con- 
 striction of the throat. Body and mind seemed 
 paralysed. 
 
 " I have been studying the question a little," he 
 managed to get out at last ; " and — and, if you'll 
 forgive me, sir, I'd rather not make any more speeches 
 upholding beer." 
 
 For half a minute Lord Twickham looked at his 
 son without so much as winking. 
 
 " A case of sick conscience ? " he asked then, in a 
 tone of ineffable contempt. 
 
 " I don't want to give my convictions any high- 
 sounding names," gasped the wretched Vincent. 
 
 " Ah ! it is sick conscience, then," said his father 
 yet more witheringly. " Might I ask what has 
 alarmed that sensitive monitor ? Has there been any 
 thing at the Brewery to shock it? " 
 
 " Nothing, sir — nothing whatever," answered Vin- 
 cent, squirming like the worm on the hook. 
 
 " Ah ! I am glad of that," rejoined Lord Twickham 
 deliberately ; " I was afraid that the greatest Brewery 
 in the world, the work to which your father has 
 devoted the energy of a lifetime, might be conducted 
 on wrong principles — what self-righteous people 
 would call immoral principles. It's not the brewery 
 that's gone against the gorge, then. Will you tell me 
 what has ? " 
 
 Vincent pulled desperately at a dead cigar, his face 
 as grey as the ash at its end. 
 
 " I don't think that hesitation will make things 
 easier, Vin," added his father. " I fancy it will be 
 best to take me into your confidence at once by 
 telling me what has gone wrong." 
 
 " I don't know that anything has gone wrong, sir," 
 said Vincent, proving by his manner that the whole
 
 Mine on tbe Xecs 219 
 
 world was wrong. " It's only this. In order to 
 refute those who accused me of ignorance, I have 
 been studying the drink traffic." 
 
 Lord Twickham's brows gathered darkly. 
 
 " Studying the drink traffic," he said ; " perhaps 
 you will tell me from what point of view you 
 approached the study." 
 
 " I wished to be perfectly impartial, to get in- 
 formation at first-hand." 
 
 " My own rule," said Lord Twickham. " Was it at 
 the Brewery you prosecuted your investigations ? In 
 first-hand study of beer I take it you'd begin with 
 brewing." 
 
 " When I said first-hand I meant in regard to 
 consumption," explained Vincent, with a parched 
 mouth. 
 
 " As to that, our ledgers would enlighten you. In 
 fifteen minutes a clerk would give you a tabulated 
 statement. I have one every week." 
 
 " I am not making myself clear," stammered 
 \'incent, whose head buzzed as if with whirling 
 machinery. " I wanted to see the people drinking ; 
 to learn something of the retail trade." 
 
 " That's interesting. Well ? " 
 
 " And Tom and I went round to find out for 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Upon my word ! " cried Lord Twickham. " The 
 Arabian Nights over again. Did you go as the 
 Hon. Vincent Twickham and Viscount Taplcy, or 
 did you affect a disguise?" 
 
 "We were disguised," replied Vincent, feeling 
 helpless in the grip of this inquisitor. 
 
 " Arabian Nights for a certainty ! Did Tom and 
 you venture by yourselves ? " 
 
 " No ; a man named Goodman accompanied us. 
 You may remember him." 
 
 " Oh yes ! I remember him very well. A choice
 
 220 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 guide and protector, I should think. He must 
 know the beauty spots of the metropolis. And under 
 his guidance you played the spy. I should have left 
 the office to my subordinates." 
 
 " No, sir — not spy. We only wished to learn." 
 
 " That's all spies usually do — wish. Doubtless you 
 have learned." 
 
 Vincent felt he must cry out or collapse. 
 
 " We have learned things unspeakable," he said 
 desperately. *' Oh ! father, if you only saw 
 the horror, the hideousness of drink among the 
 people." 
 
 " I have been forty years in business," returned 
 Lord Twickham freezingly. " During every day of 
 those two score years I have been studying the drink 
 question. Believe me, my interest in it is old, and 
 at least as close and personal as yours can possibly 
 be after a casual ramble round the public-houses. 
 And I am reminded that it is to drink you owe the 
 position to which you were born. It may be distaste- 
 ful, though I confess its unpleasantness had not 
 occurred to me. But, agreeable or the reverse, the 
 plain fact is that drink, or, to be precise, beer has 
 made you possibly, I will even say probably, the 
 richest man of your years in England. That, you 
 may tell me, is your misfortune. I can see you have 
 suffered a kind of nausea, such as, it is said, overcomes 
 young surgeons when they first take to practical 
 surgery. But the surgeon's knife is one of the most 
 beneficent instruments of science ; and you may take 
 it that dissecting and operating rooms will not be 
 abolished because young gentlemen of delicate 
 stomachs occasionally find them offensive. Nor 
 will breweries and public-houses be done away with, 
 though ten thousand times ten thousand fanatics 
 should cry ' horrible ! ' Speaking for myself, I ask 
 no man to drink more of my beer than is good for
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 221 
 
 him. At the same time I decline to be responsible 
 for the actions of fools. My business is conducted 
 with a constant regard to decency and order. I am 
 misinformed if our tied houses are not even better 
 than the law requires. Might I ask how my son 
 found them ? " 
 
 " A striking contrast to some others," answered 
 Vincent eagerly. " It was gratifying to see them 
 so well managed." 
 
 " That's as it should be. We have never lost a 
 licence ; never had a difficulty in obtaining or re- 
 newing one. If you understood the liquor traffic, 
 these facts would speak for themselves. 1 find, 
 moreover, that the consumption of our ale is increas- 
 ing year by year, and I tell you frankly that 
 continuous growth is one of the deepest gratifications 
 of my life." 
 
 He threw his half-smoked cigar into the fire. 
 
 " You have told me of your discoveries, Vin," he 
 went on. " Listen, and I will tell you something. My 
 father, your grandfather, was one of the ablest men 
 of business into whom God ever put the breath of 
 life. Considering his opportunities, he did wonders 
 for the Brewery. I don't boast if my opportunities 
 exceeded his. He made that possible, and his ideals 
 were my inspiration. When I came of age, I resolved 
 that the Twickham Brewery should be without a 
 rival. I kept the intention to myself, for the world 
 rightly discounts boasters. Ikit I worked, I planned, 
 I made this experiment and that, failing often where 
 I counted on success, but learning something from 
 every mistake. Our errors are our best teachers. 
 Well, I pushed at home and abroad. Time passed. 
 I went my way, sometimes over obstacles, sometimes 
 round them ; and at the end of twenty >'ears I heard 
 people say the Twickhams were forging to the front ; 
 at the end of thirty years they were without rival.
 
 222 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 My youthful dream was realised. Now, at the end 
 of forty years, when I am an old man, my son sits 
 in judgment and tells me I have been a fool." 
 
 Vincent's head swam. He was crushed, and to the 
 crushing were added the stings of conscious disloyalty. 
 The horrors which had tortured him like a nightmare 
 suddenly grew insignificant and vanished in presence 
 of the outraged father. 
 
 " You do me injustice," he cried, in piteous self- 
 defence. " I did not sit in judgment ; I had no 
 intention of imputing blame. You will believe I did 
 not presume to judge." 
 
 " I am anxious to believe as much of my only son," 
 answered Lord Twickham, relenting ; " and let the 
 credit of good intention be mutual. You, in turn, will 
 believe that I have looked at questions affecting the 
 consumption of beer at least as closely as the keenest 
 of my critics. You don't imagine that I have been 
 all these years at the head of a brewery producing 
 two million barrels a year without hearing a great deal 
 of the horror and hideousness of drink. That report 
 has been my daily portion. Had I been told of futile 
 wills and gluttonous, bestial appetites it would have 
 been more to the purpose. I make no parade of 
 morality ; and I believe the counting-house was never 
 meant to be a church. But if, in these days of sickly 
 consciences, it is necessary to be ethical in business, 
 then I say emphatically that ale is a blessing. If 
 the incontinent find it a curse, who is to blame ? To 
 indulge in sweeping condemnation of drink because 
 there are drunkards is just as logical and reasonable 
 as to condemn religion because it makes fanatics and 
 maniacs. I will mention a fact you may have for- 
 gotten — a hundred thousand shares of the St. Edmund 
 Brewery are held by clergymen, and five times as 
 many would be held by the Churches had the allot- 
 ments equalled the applications. We might have a
 
 Mine on tbc Xecs 223 
 
 board of bishops and deans. Is the Church, therefore, 
 engai^ed in sendinj^ people to perdition ? " 
 
 He rose, drew himself up to his full height, which 
 was six feet two, walked to the window, wheeled 
 quickly, and came back. As he advanced Vincent 
 also rose, and their eyes met in a close, confiding 
 gaze. Looking into the strong face above him, there 
 came upon the son a swift feeling of adoration for the 
 father who had triumphed so magnificently and so 
 magnificently justified his way. To oppose him was 
 like opposing a law of nature. 
 
 " Has your mother heard of this ? " asked Lord 
 Twickham, after a moment's silence. 
 
 " No, father." 
 
 " Then it is my wish that nothing be said to her 
 touching it ; and we'll keep this conversation to our- 
 selves. Take my advice, and blow the cobwebs to 
 destruction. I shall expect to hear no more of them. 
 Now, I fancy, they will be expecting us in the 
 drawing-room."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE tussle which Vincent dreaded was over. 
 Lord Twickham won handsomely ; and the 
 feeling of the vanquished was one of exceeding joy, 
 because defeat eased him of many torments. For 
 the moment his sole regret was that the past was gone 
 irrevocably — in other words, that the House could 
 not now listen to the undelivered speech. Partial 
 amends might, however, be made by a greater devo- 
 tion to the interests of the Brewery ; and forthwith 
 Vincent devoted himself to business with the zeal of 
 a convert imbibing a new religion. 
 
 It had always been part of his creed that in the 
 case of Twickham's beer it was eclipse first and 
 the rest nowhere. But only now did he begin to 
 understand what the tenet meant, to realise the 
 scope of that odorous hive on the banks of the Stare, 
 and appreciate the genius which made it the marvel 
 of the age. In the perfection of its working it seemed 
 the vast machine was automatic, until one pierced 
 to the centre and discovered the directing brain. Even 
 in an age when obedient Nature suffers herself to be 
 turned into a manifold driving-wheel, there must still 
 be a man behind the machine ; and behind this 
 stupendous engine, acting with the force of destiny 
 itself, the man was Lord Twickham. He had his 
 managers and deputies by the score, experts all, and 
 all unsuspecting puppets of one ruling, organising 
 intelligence. The St. Edmund Brewery was merely 
 an alias of Viscount Twickham. 
 
 224
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 225 
 
 With a quickened admiration Vincent went his way, 
 seeking opportunity to prove his loyalty and finding 
 it at every turn. He was thrown much into the society 
 of McTor, and McTor's methods and manners were 
 bracing to the blackslider. For although the Shorter 
 Catechism had once been thoroughly birched into 
 Duncan, never, since reaching years of discretion, had 
 he allowed it to hamper his conscience. Moreover, 
 his scorn for the water-drinkers was more potent than 
 compound logic. 
 
 " It's a funny thing," he said to Vincent once, after 
 covering them with ridicule, " that our hottest fanatics 
 should be reformed drunkards." 
 
 " Not the least," put in the Earl of Wegron, who 
 had listened, chuckling — " not the least funny. Take 
 the man who's been scared a time or two by the 
 d. t.'s. He's afraid to drink, because his constitution's 
 like a tinder-box soaked in paraffin — the least touch of 
 fire and off it goes. Now it happens that the natural 
 man is not an angel. What the ci-devant boozer can 
 no longer enjoy himself he can't bear to sec others 
 enjoying. That's the secret of half the reforming 
 zeal with which a much enduring world is vexed." 
 
 " Reforming zeal," said MacTor. " Yes ! There's 
 not an old wife of either sex but must babble about 
 reform, as if the devil were to be caught by putting 
 salt on his tail. Now, wipe the public-houses off the 
 face of the earth, and what do you think would 
 happen ? " 
 
 " 1 have never troubled myself to think what would 
 happen," returned the Earl. " What would be the 
 consequence if wc reformed you out of existence ? " 
 
 " Why, red hot anarchy. Have }'OU ever pictured 
 a sober, respectable, determined East End awakened 
 to a sense of its wrongs, rising cu masse, and march- 
 ing upon Park Lane and Berkeley Square, pillaging 
 as it went, and trampling coronets under foot ? " 
 
 IS
 
 226 Mine on tbe %cc5 
 
 " If they were perfectly sober they'd have the sense 
 to preserve the coronets," remarked the Earl. 
 
 " In any case they'd have them. Do you know, 
 I always think of that seething East End as a 
 menagerie of wild beasts, kept under, partly by art, 
 partly by fear. Some day, as sure's God's in Heaven, 
 they'll rise before their masters have time to catch 
 the first train for safety ; and then, my noble friend, 
 you'll have Carlyle's roaring hell-porch of a Hotel 
 de Ville over again, with grim Saxon determination 
 to keep the fun going. When British sansculottism 
 realises its right, it'll be high time for some of us to 
 pack. Moscow conflagrations are nothing to what 
 will happen." 
 
 " Pleasant prophet ! " said the Earl. " When do you 
 expect these things to come upon us ? " 
 
 " When drinking is abolished," was the answer. 
 " Let the under world get perfectly sober, recover 
 its wits, and take stock, and by Jove ! the Wegron 
 title-deeds will help the bonfire, I'm talking 
 seriously." 
 
 " Faith, and that's precisely what you're doing," 
 admitted the Earl. " But this new Bartholomew rout 
 is not to come off while distilleries remain ? " 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 ll breathe again," said the Earl, " though your 
 meaning is a little cryptic, — is that the word ? " 
 
 " My meaning is perfectly plain to all who know 
 the slums," replied MacTor. " Drink is the universal 
 drug which takes the edge off calamity, and makes 
 misery bearable. The enemies of your order growl 
 when you roll by in your carriage ; oh yes, they do. 
 They'd like to pluck you out and wrench your head 
 off. But at the corner stands a public-house ; in they 
 turn, and straightway forget their enmity. Close the 
 public-houses, deprive socialism, anarchism, or what- 
 ever else you like to call it, of its anodyne, and presto !
 
 TKIline on tbe Xees 227 
 
 you are perched on a powder-magazine with a lighted 
 fuse at the base." 
 
 " Keep 'em drunk, MacTor — keep 'em drunk," cried 
 the Earl ; whereupon there was a peal of laughter. 
 
 Somehow Vincent could not laugh. His face was 
 hot, his nerves were quivering. He made no comment ; 
 but he thought much, and as he thought his sky 
 darkened again. There was a conspiracy, then, to 
 keep the victims of fate in their misery. Had he or 
 his any part in that conspiracy ? If so, what was to 
 be done? Should he, Alexander like, cut the gordian 
 knot, or should he try to untie? 
 
 I
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 FOR the present the plan of letting it alone was 
 easiest. Considering the genius of things for 
 self-adjustment, there might be no need either to cut 
 or untie ; and, in any case, precipitancy was the special 
 folly to be avoided. Happily, there was plenty of 
 diversion. Ingledew, for instance, silently appealed 
 for charity, and, indeed, pledges had been given con- 
 cerning him. Wherefore Vincent and Tapley, 
 attended by Dick, returned to the lodging-house in 
 Spitalfields, according to appointment with the deputy. 
 
 When they arrived that gentleman chanced to be 
 expediting the departure of a guest whose time was 
 up. The ejected had picked himself out of the 
 gutter, re-entered the passage, and expressed an un- 
 biassed opinion of the ruling power. He was just 
 going out head foremost a second time as the visitors 
 came up. At sight of them the deputy apologised 
 profusely, smoothed his irate quills, pulled down the 
 shirt-sleeves tucked for action, and smiled as benignly 
 as was possible to a professional " chucker-out " taken 
 unawares. 
 
 Ingledew sat on a bench in the great common 
 room, nursing a gross wrong. Spying his friends, 
 he rose to meet them, smiling sadly from the depths 
 of a profound dejection. The fact is, he was perfectly 
 sober, and perfectly sober, Mr. Ingledew's mood was 
 one of silent despair. 
 
 228
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 229 
 
 " 'E ain't 'appy 'cept when 'e's drunk," explained 
 the deputy, in a bass whisper. 
 
 Mr, Inglcdew heard and nodded. It was the 
 simple truth. 
 
 " This minute my tongue's on fire," he said dole- 
 fully. 
 
 " Feels kind o' blistery, eh ! " put in Dick, who had 
 experienced similar sensations. 
 
 Mr. Ingledew shook his head. 
 
 " Blistery doesn't express it," he croaked. " Grilling 
 and roasting would be nearer the mark. Brazier 
 inside." 
 
 " Would be out to drink," said the deputy, " till 
 I told 'im 'e'd be eternally chucked if 'e did. Then 
 he sits down, mumblin' 'bout 'avin a fire inside an' 
 not allowed to put it out." 
 
 " Ah God ! what it is to be burning alive," broke in 
 Mr. Ingledew. " I have made a little study of theology, 
 sir," addressing Vincent, " and if this isn't Hell I 
 cannot imagine what is. I feel like a red hot 
 furnace." 
 
 "Reckon 'a mother-in-law ' would 'bout suit you," 
 suggested Dick, looking at him compassionately. 
 " Wot you wants is a drop of old an' bitter." 
 
 Ingledew smacked his torrid lips. 
 
 " Old and bitter," he repeated. " Dear friend, is it 
 possible ? I've got three ha'-pence — three half-pence. 
 There they are ; is ' a mother-in-law ' possible ? " 
 
 Considering the urgency of the case, it was agreed 
 he might have one drink — just one, to cool his fiery 
 tongue. So Dick was deputed to take him to a 
 public-house and bring him back in ten minutes. In 
 their absence the essential business with the deputy 
 was transacted — that is to say, a certain sum of money 
 changed hands for Ingledew's benefit, with the accom- 
 paniment of that palm oil which makes the life of 
 deputies sweet.
 
 230 Wiinc on tbe %ccs 
 
 Ten minutes passed and the drinkers had not 
 returned. They were still absent at the end of half 
 an hour. At the end of an hour Vincent was 
 accusing Dick of default ; but the deputy reminded 
 him it was easy enough to get a man of Mr. Ingledew's 
 kidney into a public-house, but " the devil's work " to 
 get him out again. 
 
 " Well," said Vincent impatiently, " we cannot 
 wait here all day." 
 
 " Suppose we go in search of them," suggested 
 Tapley. " No one will know us hereabouts." 
 
 So they left, the deputy directing them to the One- 
 eyed Stag, a favourite resort of Ingledew when he 
 possessed the price of a glass. Thither they went, 
 and found their birds, according to expectation, seated 
 jovially on high stools and deep in talk with the land- 
 lord. It was evident at a glance that the limit of a 
 single glass had been exceeded. Ingledew was chirpy, 
 and Dick fairly radiated happiness. The entry of his 
 friends, indeed, cut him short in a graphic account of 
 themselves, their wealth, position, social qualities, and 
 particularly his own "chummy" place in their regard. 
 The tale was not half told ; but enough had been said 
 to enlighten Ingledew. As they entered, he raised 
 his glass and bowed genially ; then dismounting from 
 his stool, advanced to meet them. 
 
 " I had not dared to dream of this," he said, with 
 a sweeping genuflexion. " I thought — but how 
 could I be sure? Yet another proof, sir," beaming 
 upon Vincent, " that truth is stranger than fiction." 
 
 Vincent looked puzzled. 
 
 " I don't quite understand you," he responded. 
 
 "Ah! but I understand you," cried Ingledew glee- 
 fully. " The same good heart, the same good fellow as 
 of yore." 
 
 Vincent cast a reproachful look at Dick ; he had 
 been blabbing then.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 231 
 
 " Just to think of it," continued Ingledew, stepping 
 back that he might the better admire. " I cannot 
 describe the emotions which stir in my breast. I 
 could — but there, all philosophers agree that regrets 
 are vain. You honoured me in the past ; you honour 
 me now. I wish I could show my appreciation as 
 I should like." 
 
 " In good MacTor ? " laughed Tapley. 
 
 " In good MacTor, my lord," rejoined Ingledew. 
 
 Vincent felt uncomfortably warm, and proposed 
 a return to fresh air. Ingledew protested. What ! 
 go away without drinking his friend's health ? Never. 
 
 Tapley and Vincent exchanged glances ; they 
 were in for it, and might as well look pleasant. 
 Ingledew was, therefore, asked to name his beverage. 
 
 " I'm loyal to old friends," he answered. " Make it 
 MacTor, and," to the landlord, " Mr. Crump, let it 
 be hot." 
 
 I lot it was, and " special " to boot, and Ingledew had 
 the deepest pleasure in drinking it " on so auspicious 
 an occasion." Dick took equal delight in a foaming 
 glass of Twickham, the landlord graciously accepting 
 another. Vincent and Tapley were content with 
 sherry. Seeing they dallied with it, Mr. Crump 
 desired to know if it wasn't good, and on being 
 assured of its excellence invited them to " toss off, 
 then." They modestly reminded him it was early 
 in the day for repetitions ; whereupon he re- 
 torted it was never too early or too late to be 
 sociable, and he should take it as a mortal offence if 
 they refused to drink with him. Ingledew applauded 
 the sentiment ; and Dick was of opinion it did one's 
 heart good to hear a man " as is a man, an' not a 
 bloomin' ole woman," discuss the liquor question. 
 
 The second round disposed of in a glow of good 
 fellowship, Mr. Goodman put in his claim as enter- 
 tainer. He, too, had his feelings ; wherefore he had
 
 232 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 his way. But at the proposal of a fourth round 
 Vincent grew obdurate. They therefore took leave of 
 Mr. Crump, Dick and Ingledew effusively expressing 
 their affection. 
 
 They were hardly fifty yards from the door when 
 there swung round the nearest corner an open 
 carriage, drawn by a pair of gleaming black horses. 
 
 " Heavens ! " ejaculated Vincent, gripping Tapley's 
 arm. "The mater's blacks." 
 
 Tapley whistled. 
 
 " No use running," he said ; " may escape notice. 
 Hullo ! Lush is there ; slumming, by Jove ! " 
 
 The carriage came up and was passing, when Miss 
 Lush's quick eye lighted on the group on the 
 pavement. The next instant the carriage had 
 stopped, and Lady Twickham, erect and amazed, was 
 examining them. Tapley ran to her side, hat in hand, 
 his face wreathed in propitiative smiles. Vincent 
 followed more leisurely, conning explanations. 
 
 " Well, upon my word ! " cried Miss Lush airily. 
 " You slumming. Wonders will never cease." 
 
 " Never, while men and women last to keep them 
 going," responded Tapley, with a glance at Lady 
 Twickham. But her eyes were fixed on a figure 
 standing rigidly at the salute some ten paces off. 
 
 " Our old friend of Paradise Court," whispered Miss 
 Lush. 
 
 " So I see ; " returned Lady Twickham, " and the 
 other ? " she queried, indicating Ingledew, who seemed 
 torn between a desire to hide behind Dick and a 
 wish to rush forward and embrace some one. 
 
 " A discovery," answered Tapley. " A natural 
 history curiosity who has lost his reckoning, and finds 
 himself in the east when he ought to be in the west." 
 
 " Another case of tumbling down the ladder ? " 
 enquired her ladyship. 
 
 Tapley nodded ; Lady Twickham sighed.
 
 Wiinc on tbe Xecs 233 
 
 " Now that you've caught him, what do you intend 
 to do with him ? " asked Miss Lush. 
 
 " Depends on his constitution," replied Tapley. 
 " Might be worth putting in a book. Miss Lush. 
 That sort of thing's all the go now, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Is it ? " she answered, smiling ravishingly ; but she 
 was not thinking of books. Once she dreamed a 
 dream of a Countess of Wegron, looked in the mirror, 
 and behold ! the rapt face of Miss Laura Lush. And 
 why not ? If the stage leads to a coronet, why not 
 the novel? 
 
 " Constitution," she added, keeping her eyes on 
 Tapley 's face. " Is it to be a case of Spartan treat- 
 ment, then ? " 
 
 " With your shield or on it, my son," laughed 
 Tapley. " Pardon me, Miss Lush, these relics of a 
 lost classical education will turn up. As to our friend, 
 he is really worth your attention. Gentleman — 
 admires Solomon, though denied the gift of wisdom — 
 bits of innocent jollity, you understand, here a little 
 and there a little, quite on Scriptural lines. You'd 
 have us all wild over the romance you could make 
 out of him." 
 
 " Thank you, I shall remember that," she said 
 radiantly, busy with a more personal romance. 
 
 " His companion appears to have constitution 
 enough for two," remarked Lady Twickham, bringing 
 the attention back to Dick. " Pity he couldn't 
 impart some of it to his wife and child." 
 
 " Understand he tries, like a good husband," said 
 Tapley. " Bestows periodical black eyes on his wife. 
 Treatment considered highly tonic in the East End." 
 
 " Deserves to be put in irons and flogged," rejoined 
 Lady Twickham severely. " But how comes it you 
 have him in tow? Protigc of yours, Vin ? Ah 
 well ! he does you credit," 
 
 She beckoned, and Dick advanced briskly, strug-
 
 234 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 gling with a grin. At two yards' distance he drew 
 up, saluting again. Lady Twickham adjusted her 
 lorgnette and scrutinised him. She noted his air of 
 prosperity had increased since their former meeting ; 
 but looked in vain for any corresponding mark of 
 respectability. Being still an amateur in East End 
 ways, she made the mistake of assuming that respect- 
 ability was among Dick's ideals. 
 
 " Well," she said, in her severest manner, " I 
 didn't expect to meet you." 
 
 Dick delicately hinted that the surprise was mutual, 
 and insinuated a hope that her pleasure was equal 
 to his. 
 
 " Ever since you was at Paradise Court been thinkin' 
 of you, m' lady," he said, intrepidly taking the fence. 
 *' An' as for Jenny, why, I ain't got no words fit to tell 
 'ow she do go on — no, m' lady." 
 
 He grinned ; Lady Twickham puckered her brows. 
 This man was spoiling for want of a chastening, 
 whatever the other might be. 
 
 " I regret to find my advice so little heeded," she 
 retorted. " Jenny has not her troubles to seek. 
 What are you doing now for a living ? " 
 
 Dick glanced slyly at Vincent for a cue. Would 
 it be right to " peach " ? No cue being vouchsafed, 
 he was obliged to cough in order to gain time. 
 Then he wiped his eyes, apologising for the state 
 of his bronchial tubes, and chancing to look round, 
 caught sight of Ingledew. Heaven had provided 
 a scapegoat. 
 
 " 'Elpin' to look arter 'im, m' lady," said Dick, 
 jerking his head at the figure behind. 
 
 " Is he a friend of yours ? " 
 
 " Sorter, m' lady. Fell acrost 'im in a pub — I mean 
 one o' them 'ere snoozin' boxes where they lays 'em 
 out at fourpencc a 'ead." 
 
 Again he glanced at Vincent, as much as to say,
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 235 
 
 "Why don't you 'elp a bloke? I'll peach, if you 
 don't look out." 
 
 " It's quite true, mother," interpolated Vincent, 
 coming to Dick's relief. " I have just discovered 
 that the gentleman behind is an old friend of mine." 
 
 Lady Twickham's eyes expressed deep horror. 
 
 " A friend of yours," she cried, keeping to well- 
 bred amazement. " Have you been slumming ? " 
 
 "A little, mother." 
 
 " And you have been aiding and abetting him, 
 Tom ? " 
 
 Tapley admitted the offence. 
 
 " Why, this grows romantic. But there, the police 
 think we're blocking the street. We arc just going 
 round by Paradise Court. This evening you will 
 tell me all about it." And she gave the order to 
 drive on.
 
 ^1 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 ^HE four stood watching till the coachman's 
 X spacious back and Miss Lush's feathered head 
 passed out of sight. Then, by a common impulse, 
 Vincent and Tapley looked at each other, Tapley 
 bursting into laughter. 
 
 " No use trying to do good by stealth, Vin," he 
 said. " Right hand wants to be charitable ; left 
 immediately on its track ; and the fat's in the fire 
 before you know where you are." 
 
 Vincent was grave. He was thinking of the 
 promise to his father, and the probable consequence 
 of his mother's discovery. 
 
 " I wish they had stayed at home," he said, in a 
 tone of irritation. 
 
 " Is the age of chivalry really gone then ? " 
 responded Tapley. " Think of the charms of Lush." 
 
 " She seemed very sweet," said Vincent. 
 
 " Sweet," echoed Tapley. " The dear creature 
 exudes sweetness like a sugar cask in the sun. 
 Can't help it. Clever, too, by Jove ! I hear every- 
 body reads her books. They say she makes anything 
 up to twenty thousand pounds a year. Wish to 
 Heaven I could scribble. If one could only wind her 
 up, say, for five years, and turn her into a joint- 
 stock company, what a hit she'd make on 'Change." 
 
 " You'd take shares ? " 
 
 " Rather — as a spec, you know, not an investment. 
 Hanged if I believe she'll hold out. Takes old chaps 
 
 236
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 237 
 
 like Shakespeare and Scott and Dickens to do that. 
 The new stuff's all froth. But she's coining now. 
 Clean upset all my notions about authors. I used 
 to think of them as a set of raw-boned, lean-faced 
 beggars, who had the secret of existing on nothing at 
 all, or dined casually like a Constantinople cur. I 
 only wish my bank account were half as healthy as 
 Miss Lush's." 
 
 " I understand she does a lot of good," said 
 Vincent. 
 
 " Providence chooses strange agents," returned 
 Taplcy. " Dabbles in religion and philanthropy and 
 all that sort of thing, doesn't she ? Tried a book 
 of hers once ; fell asleep and forgot what it was all 
 about. Seemed a kind of sermon. Hullo ! Mr. 
 Ingledew has a remark to make." 
 
 Ingledew, whose courage was now restored, stepped 
 forward, apologising for his inability to vanish into 
 thin air when the occasion called for sudden dis- 
 appearance. He could not forgive himself for 
 retaining a bodily shape that might compromise his 
 benefactors in the eyes of ladies. 
 
 " But you know it wasn't my fault," he pleaded. 
 " I'd gladly have stayed a while longer with Mr. 
 Crump." 
 
 " Assurances are needless," said Tapley. " You'd 
 stay with Mr. Crump till the Day of Judgment, 
 supposing the liquor held out so long." 
 
 Three pairs of eyes were upon Ingledew, and they 
 pierced, for he was unspeakably dilapidated and full 
 of holes. Looking at him, his friends understood 
 that if charity were to rescue she must begin at once, 
 and repudiate half measures. From the crown of 
 the head to the sole of the foot the man urgently 
 needed renovation ; and most he needed to be shorn 
 and washed — washed with all the power of soap and 
 water and disinfectants. So he was taken to a
 
 238 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 barber, who operated gingerly, not without signs of 
 revolt and a double fee ; thence he passed to an 
 outfitter, who was bribed to destroy the old clothes ; 
 then he was gently led to a public bath and made 
 clean — a fearful hygienic process. Shining like the 
 ransomed, he returned to the den in Spitalfields, and 
 every one, from the deputy down, disclosed the long 
 held secret — that they had always known he was a 
 toff in disguise. 
 
 Dick, \\ho had hitherto regarded Ingledew with 
 the tolerant contempt of a superior intellect, all at 
 once experienced acute twinges of jealousy ; but like 
 a good husband, he reserved the expression of his 
 feelings for the privacy of home. The Ingledew 
 parade, as he named it to himself, well over, he 
 hurried to Paradise Court, and found Jenny still 
 agitated over Lady Twickham's visit. Her agitation 
 was the more prolonged, because she had lately been 
 undergoing a special course of marital discipline, the 
 visible effects of which had excited the wrath of Lady 
 Twickham and the dire denunciation of Miss Lush. 
 Her ladyship, indeed, vowed she would call Good- 
 man to account ; but Jenny prayed her to forbear, 
 well knowing that lectures out of furs and laces 
 would be the sheerest waste of time and effort. 
 
 What particularly interested Dick, as he hastened 
 home, thinking of Lady Twickham, was not her 
 opinion on this or that subject, least of all on his 
 behaviour, but the amount of her latest benefaction. 
 
 " 'Ear as you've 'ad visitors," he cried, as he 
 bounced in upon his wife. " 'Ow much is it this 
 time ? " 
 
 A look of mingled fear and pain came into Jenny's 
 face. 
 
 " Lady Twickham says as it's all for Loo," she 
 answered hesitatingly. " Says as the child looks 
 starvin'."
 
 Mtnc on tbe Xees 239 
 
 " Oh ! docs she ? " said Dick. " Very good on 'cr, 
 an' very complimentary, I must say. But I didn't 
 'appen to ask wot she said, but wot she did. 'Ow 
 much is it ? " 
 
 " Not much, Dick." 
 
 " Not much, eh ! " he growled, his face darkening 
 ominously — " not much ; an' 'er so good at makin' 
 remarks, besides not knowin' 'ow to get through 'er 
 chink. Let me 'ave it." 
 
 " You won't take it from me, Dick," pleaded Jenny. 
 " There's Loo ; look at her. Let me keep it this 
 once, do, Dick dear. Lady Twickham made me 
 promise to get things for Loo. She'll never give me 
 more if I don't." 
 
 At this insolence Dick lost his patience. If Lady 
 Twickham bestowed her charity on such terms, she 
 might keep it ; and she'd better not be coming to his 
 house to dictate. By Heaven ! he'd be master, in 
 spite of all the lace petticoats in the land. 
 
 " An' the she-moke wot writes books," he cried, 
 " was she 'ere, too ? " 
 
 Yes, she had been with Lady Twickham. 
 
 " A-.spyin'," he went on furiously. " She'll put us 
 in 'er bloomin' books, that's wot she's arter, an' 'ave 
 people laughin' at us, an' maybe wipin' their eyes over 
 you, as ain't blessed with a 'usband you can dance 
 on. Gawd ! ain't it fine ? Damn all women wot don't 
 work for a livin'." 
 
 He spoke as one who was not to be appeased ; but 
 though his wrath was kindled against womankind, he 
 was sober enough to be politic. Therefore he would 
 not lay hands on Jenny lest " the ole cow," hearing 
 of it, might withhold her benefactions entirely. But 
 he warned his wife that if she persisted in thwarting 
 him she might send cards to Lady Twickham and 
 " the she-moke wot writes books " for the most 
 glorious row in the annals of married life.
 
 240 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " And you'll let me keep it, Dick, won't you ? " 
 said Jenny, whose mind ran on the money. 
 
 " I ain't got nuthin' to do with it," he answered, in 
 disgust. " You keeps on yer own 'ook. Lady 
 Twickham comes 'ere an' says wot's to be done an' 
 wot's not to be done, an' yer 'usband dussn't squeak. 
 Go an' buy Loo silks and satings and yerself the 
 same." 
 
 With which he banged the door, so that a shower 
 of dry-rot fell, stamped down stairs, and made for the 
 Bear and Cubs. 
 
 " It is quite true," he said to himself hotly as he 
 strode along — " quite true as it's the women wot 
 drives the men to drink."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 WHILE Wragg entertained Dick with his best 
 liquor, Lady Twickham was gently putting 
 Vincent to inquisitorial torture. Bountifully endowed 
 with the virtue of curiosity, her ladyship was not to 
 be denied a detailed and explicit account of her son's 
 explorations in Alsatia, nor of the accident or motive 
 which led him thither. Unluckily, she had time and 
 opportunity to examine and cross-examine, to suggest, 
 pause, turn back, requestion and probe, till the heart, 
 which she regarded as her own, lay bare before her. 
 Lady Gwendoline was absent on one of her many 
 missions of pleasure — a hastily arranged run to a 
 race-meeting with friends devoted, like herself, to 
 sport. Vincent, indifferent at the moment to the 
 triumph of jockeys, remained behind, as it chanced, 
 to become the prey of the inquisitor. 
 
 It was remarked, not without significant nods, 
 that, having captured the prize. Lady Gwendoline 
 " made the pace " as if marriage were an act of 
 emancipation and husbands were created to provide 
 establishments. 
 
 " You don't wish to be tied to my apron-strings," 
 she had said laughingly to Vincent before the honey- 
 moon was well over. " As little, I am sure, do you 
 wish me to be dragging at your belt. I think we 
 both believe in rational freedom. We can trust each 
 other." 
 
 "Of course — of course," answered Vincent, hurt 
 241 16
 
 242 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 because a woman cannot belong exclusively to the 
 man who loves her. 
 
 And from that moment Lady Gwendoline allowed 
 no marriage tie to impede her movements. This had 
 not escaped the notice of Lady Twickham, who was 
 old-fashioned in her notions of wifely duty, and had 
 a mother's eyes besides. Sometimes she pitied 
 Vincent a little — a very little ; for she would not 
 admit, even to herself, that her son was neglected by 
 the woman whom he honoured with his name. But 
 Gwen might think less of the pursuit of pleasure, be 
 less eager to lead the giddy throng. 
 
 Vincent had many touching proofs of his mother's 
 solicitude. Nevertheless, he devoutly wished she were 
 less curious about his doings. For if he refused 
 information, her affection would be wounded ; if he 
 gave it, he should be a traitor to his father. Un- 
 happily, he had not the diplomatic gift of saying 
 convincingly the opposite of what he meant. But 
 remembering the wisdom of reticence, he made a 
 handy compromise with his conscience — that is to say, 
 like many a good man in a fix, he told the truth, but 
 not the whole truth. He had gone to the slums, 
 he told his mother, for arguments to confound his 
 assailants in the House of Commons, and in the 
 course of investigation fell in with Ingledew. 
 
 Now nothing engaged Lady Twickham's sympathy 
 so readily as a real concrete case of misery and mis- 
 fortune. To square accounts with Heaven for the 
 blessings showered upon her she did her best for 
 the wretched ; and her charity was catholic. Vincent 
 adroitly made the most of Ingledew. The man 
 might be to blame, but he was exceedingly miser- 
 able, his misery being the keener because he had 
 known better times and associations. 
 
 " You must bring him to me," said Lady Twickham, 
 instantly busy with schemes of regeneration.
 
 TRaine on tbe Xees 243 
 
 " Certainly, mother," replied Vincent, glad to get 
 her off the main track. " But you'll give him time to 
 draw breath first. The poor fellow could hardly bear 
 an interview yet." 
 
 " Very well. Do you want money ? " 
 
 Vincent thought he had enough for the present. 
 
 " Well, well ! Should you want any, you know ! 
 And what about the man Goodman ? I gather he 
 accompanied you in your explorations ! " 
 
 Vincent answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " A pretty Christian ! " she remarked. 
 
 " A muscular Christian, mother." 
 
 " More muscular than Christian, I'm afraid. Did 
 you bring him sober through it all ? " 
 
 " Almost," laughed Vincent. 
 
 " Says a good deal for your management. Miss 
 Lush calls him the most consummate piece of 
 ruffianism she has ever known." 
 
 " A novelist ought to have more discernment," 
 rejoined Vincent, feeling an oblique personal asper- 
 sion in this compendious estimate of Dick. 
 
 " My dear, Miss Lush has wonderful discernment ; 
 I can vouch for that," said Lady Twickham. 
 
 " Then she ought to put it to better use. By the 
 way, is she in love with Tom ? " 
 
 " In love with Tom ! " cried Lady Twickham, in 
 a scandalised tone — " Miss Lush in love with Tom ! 
 Vin, what do you mean ? " 
 
 " What I say, mother. The radiance she shed on 
 him to-day was quite dazzling." 
 
 " You silly boy ! Miss Lush is wedded to her art ; 
 I have had it a thousand times from her own lips." 
 
 " My impression is she'd like to be wedded to 
 something else," said Vincent. 
 
 " How dare you, Vin ? " demanded Lady Twick- 
 ham. " Miss Lush's heart is in her writing. She 
 could never do what she's doing if she were married."
 
 244 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Does marrying spoil a novelist ? " asked Vincent 
 quizzically. " 1 thought writers of fiction might rather 
 like to experiment in the real thing. The fictitious 
 must grow tiresome. Tom's practical. For instance, 
 he thought that by converting her into a limited 
 liability company, a pretty penny might be realised." 
 
 *' I will not permit such talk," returned Lady 
 Twickham decisively. " It's very improper in Tom to 
 make such remarks, and in you to repeat them. Miss 
 Lush does a great deal of good ; and is my friend." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, mother," said Vincent peni- 
 tently. " I am sorry to do Miss Lush wrong ; but 
 she does Goodman wrong. With all his faults I 
 believe there's the making of a man in him." 
 
 " As there's the making of a statue in a quarry," 
 retorted Lady Twickham. " Needs a deal of shaping ; 
 and I must say Mr. Goodman shows rare resource in 
 concealing his high possibilities. I'm afraid he's not 
 a saint, Vin." 
 
 " The British Empire doesn't owe its existence to 
 saints, mother. Goodman has fought for his country. 
 His misfortune is to be a born fighter." 
 
 " Evidently ; and he keeps his hand in. The 
 manner in which he maltreats his poor wife is shame- 
 ful. I find it hard to believe in a man who beats 
 his wife." 
 
 Vincent was responding with something about use 
 and wont in the East End, when the door opened 
 and his father walked in. Taking advantage of the 
 interruption, he left to keep an engagement elsewhere, 
 happy in having kept his secret. 
 
 " Vin has just been telling mc of his adventures in 
 the slums," Lady Twickham remarked to her husband. 
 
 " Oh ! " he responded, in a tone which made her look 
 curiously at him. 
 
 " Didn't you know he had been in the East End ? " 
 she asked.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 245 
 
 " Oh yes ! I heard he'd been slumming," replied 
 Lord Twickham. " How did you come to hear of it? 
 Did he volunteer the information ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I had to pick it out of him. The 
 first inkling came quite by chance." 
 
 " Chance plays a big part in the world. Tell me 
 about it." 
 
 " Well, this afternoon I was on a charitable round 
 with Miss Lush, and in turning a corner whom should 
 we come upon but Vin, Tom, that man Goodman, 
 and another, whose name, I learn, is Ingledcw." 
 
 "That's interesting. Caught them red-handed, so 
 to speak. Who or what is Ingledcw? " 
 
 " As to the who, he's an old college friend of Vin's ; 
 as to the what, I judge him to be a particularly 
 miserable child of misfortune." 
 
 *' Ah ! " said Lord Twickham, " a philanthropic 
 discovery." 
 
 " Something of that sort," admitted his wife. 
 
 " We have philanthropy in the blood," remarked 
 Lord Twickham. " Vin, of course, couldn't help 
 taking this Ingledcw in tow. Did he till you what 
 else he found in the East End ? " 
 
 " No ; practically nothing beyond Ingledcw. He 
 talked some nonsense about Miss Lush being in 
 love with Tom, and Tom turning her into a 
 company." 
 
 " That's worthy of Tom," said Lord Twickham, 
 with a dry laugh. " Floating her on the Stock 
 Exchange : the idea's good. For the rest, why 
 shouldn't Miss Lush be in love with him ? Falling in 
 love is not reckoned a crime. Besides, Tom's got 
 qualities which tell with women, and though he's 
 poorer than a church mouse, he's got a title. Even 
 Lady Bareacrcs enjoys the privileges of position. 
 Vin didn't tell you of his discoveries in detail, or of 
 the impressions they left ? "
 
 246 Timine on tbe Xees 
 
 " No ; the talk was almost wholly about Ingledew 
 and Goodman." 
 
 " He said nothing about drink ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Didn't he mention what took him to the slums ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ; now I remember he told me he went for 
 arguments to overwhelm opponents in the House. 
 But why are you so mysterious about it, Vincent ? 
 Has anything happened ? " 
 
 Lord Twickham looked at his wife for some 
 seconds without speaking. 
 
 " Much — very much has happened," he answered 
 then. " Vin went out denying, and returned believing." 
 
 " Believing what ? " asked Lady Twickham, a note 
 of real alarm in her voice. 
 
 " I'm glad he didn't tell you," said her husband 
 slowly. " It's best I should do that ; and, since 
 the matter has come up, do it now, lest distorted 
 versions should reach you. Vin, my dear, has been 
 taking a leaf out of the book of Balaam, when that 
 good man disappointed his friend Balak ; or more 
 correctly, perhaps, has undergone the experience of 
 Saul of Tarsus on the expedition to Damascus." 
 
 " You startle me," cried Lady Twickham, her eyes 
 amply confirming her words. " Tell me all quickly. 
 Saul of Tarsus underwent sudden conversion. To 
 what is Vin converted ? " 
 
 " To an abhorrence of all his father's work," 
 answered Lord Twickham deliberately. " Not to 
 speak in riddles, he is overwhelmed by the horrors 
 of the drink traffic ; thinks it the greatest curse on 
 earth, and all that, and holds it responsible for most 
 of the vice and folly of mankind. I am not sure 
 whether we are to tear down the Brewery and 
 cultivate leeks and cabbages among the ruins, or 
 abandon it to the owls and foxes as a sign of the 
 curse that is upon it. You see, I have reared a judge
 
 Mine on tbc Xecs 247 
 
 to condemn my actions — a comforting thought at 
 sixty-five, when one is too old to begin over again. 
 It seems I am engaged in a huge conspiracy to ruin 
 my fellow-men — a soothing verdict from one's son 
 and heir." 
 
 Lady Twickham's face was pallid with horror. 
 
 " You make me ill," she said — " really, I shall 
 be ill." 
 
 " Oh no, don't be ill," returned her husband quietly. 
 " It is a mistake to take anything in this life too 
 seriously, and especially a fit of fanaticism. It 
 will probably pass, after the manner of fits. Mean- 
 time, I am not the least ashamed of myself I have 
 made what I could of the gifts God gave me. It's 
 a pity Vin should be offended ; but I declined to 
 go into the pathology of a sick conscience, and 
 asked him not to tell you. The fact that he kept 
 his promise is an encouraging augury. I think he 
 will soon be quite well again." 
 
 " But what can have led him to reflect on you ? " 
 said Lady Twickham, her face a study in perplexity. 
 
 " To do him justice, the reflection was only 
 indirect, and not intended to be personal," was the 
 answer. " As to the cause, he went among unpleasant 
 scenes, and being green, got a touch of nausea. He 
 found that men sin, and is surprised they should 
 suffer. In his amazement he rushes off, as so many 
 good people rush, to lay blame and responsibility 
 on the wrong shoulders. It seems the drunkard is to 
 be forgiven ; but the brewer and the publican are 
 to be condemned beyond hope of salvation. That's 
 vicarious responsibility with a vengeance. Presently 
 we shall have the wise man clapped in jail for the 
 delinquencies of the fool. We live in the most 
 logical of worlds. But don't you worry ; we've 
 probably heard the first and the last of Vin's dis- 
 approval."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IN times of trouble it was Lady Tvvickham's 
 custom to seek (and find) consolation in the 
 works of the Bishop of Blockley. Upset by the 
 revelations about Vincent, she had recourse to the 
 usual medicine ; but for once the soothing mixture 
 was without efficacy. Finding no comfort in Tinkle 
 she shut the book, and for half an hour lay back 
 in her chair, her hands folded in her lap, and her 
 eyes on the ceiling, thinking intensely. What would 
 be the consequence were Vincent to turn against 
 his father? On which side should she range herself? 
 The question made her thrill eerily, and in sheer 
 fear of the answer she rose hurriedly and went to 
 the library, where Miss Lush happened to be working. 
 The novelist looked up in surprise. 
 
 " Dear Lady Twickham, I thought you were 
 resting," she said. " You ought to be resting " ; and 
 her expression seemed to ask what was wrong. 
 
 " One cannot always rest when one would," replied 
 Lady Twickham. " What have you been reading, 
 my dear ? " 
 
 " Only a volume of statistics, and I feel as if I had 
 been regaling on chaff. Statistics arc like an 
 anatomical statement of the number of bones in 
 a skeleton : you have the information, but the living 
 organism remains vague. It is hard to conjure 
 living reality out of dry bones." 
 
 " I thought your imagination could conjure up 
 248
 
 "Mine on tbe Xees 249 
 
 anything — as, indeed, I know it can. What particular 
 statistics have you been studying?" 
 
 Now the question was a dehcate one, and the 
 discreet Lush hesitated just an instant in her reply. 
 Would it be prudent to tell the truth ? 
 
 " Very oddly, statistics of the drink traffic," she 
 said, taking risks. 
 
 Lady Twickham's eyelids quivered a little. 
 
 " And what do you find ? " she asked. 
 
 " The usual rows of figures, of course," answered 
 Miss Lush, smiling as if to say, " What could you 
 expect from a mere work of reference ? " 
 
 "No deduction, no moral?" inquired Lady 
 Twickham. 
 
 " Oh yes ; we live in an age of deductions and 
 morals. The compiler is quite in the fashion ; he's a 
 bit of a preacher." 
 
 " Let me see," said Lady Twickham, stretching out 
 her hand for the book. " You know my weakness 
 for sermons." 
 
 Miss Lush passed the book, indicating with a 
 forefinger where the sermon began. Her ladyship 
 read the passage, silently and with perfect com- 
 posure. 
 
 " A very trenchant sermon," she remarked 
 pleasantly, laying down the volume. " My only 
 criticism is that the preacher falls into violence, smites 
 hip and thigh, so to speak, when a flick in the face 
 might suffice." 
 
 " A Samson among the Philistines with the jaw- 
 bone of an ass," suggested Miss Lush archly. 
 
 " Always apt, my dear, always pat," responded 
 Lady Twickham, nodding assent. " Well, Samson 
 overdid things in the end, poor fellow ! But pray," 
 glancing at a bundle of papers on which Miss Lush 
 had been busy, " if it's not impertinent, what are 
 you doing ? Another new novel, my dear ? Ah !
 
 2 so Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 you novelists are so sly ; alway watching, detective 
 like, the foibles of your fellows." 
 
 Thus trapped Miss Lush had to own she was, indeed, 
 engaged on a new work of fiction, planned on a 
 colossal scale. 
 
 " And these are jottings," said Lady Twickham, 
 fingering the papers with the emotion natural in one 
 permitted to handle the tools of genius. 
 
 " Yes ; I am frightfully conscientious," admitted 
 Miss Lush, blushing prettily. " You can have no idea, 
 dear Lady Twickham, of the labour and pains of 
 n ovel writing. For my last work, ' The Purblind ; 
 or, the Fool and his Folly,' I had no less than a dozen 
 discarded bonnet-boxes full of notes." 
 
 " Good gracious ! " ejaculated Lady Twickham, 
 surprised out of her well-bred reserve. " A dozen 
 boxes full of notes ? " 
 
 " Crammed," said Miss Lush ; " in truth, over- 
 flowing, like the measure of Scripture. Oh ! I assure 
 you it's no fun amusing the public nowadays. Time 
 was when you could put anything into a story, so 
 long as it was amusing, or sensational, or — or savoured 
 of scandal. But that's all changed. You've got to 
 grind like a specialist now." 
 
 " And even then, I suppose, the critics disparage." 
 
 " Disparage ! " repeated Miss Lush, with a tinkling 
 laugh. " They'd disparage the angel Gabriel. They 
 disparaged my twelve boxes of notes ; talked of 
 having raw material thrown at their heads, as if wood 
 could be hurt." 
 
 " Well, you had a very gratifying revenge. The 
 whole world knows the sensation made by ' The 
 Purblind.' How many copies were sold, my dear ? " 
 
 " A hundred and fifty thousand in the first month," 
 answered Miss Lush modestly ; " two hundred and 
 fifty thousand within three months." 
 
 " A quarter of a million ! I wonder your head
 
 "Mine on tbe Xees 251 
 
 wasn't turned. I should think such figures stopped 
 the critics' mouths effectually." 
 
 "Only made them gibe the more," said Miss Lush 
 merrily. 
 
 " Well, it is the fate of all great and original souls 
 to be misunderstood," rejoined Lady Twickham 
 consolingly. " I have read that when one of your 
 works appears rivals arc crushed." 
 
 Miss Lush could only confess the fact, and vow 
 that the fault wasn't hers. She really couldn't help 
 it if the public bought two hundred and fifty thousand 
 copies of her book in three months, and left her rivals 
 to starve. She pitied those rivals, some of whom 
 were really worthy and industrious people, though 
 they hadn't her knack of success. 
 
 " And the new novel ? What is it about ? " asked 
 Lady Twickham. 
 
 " Speaking generally, the East End. The social 
 conditions are picturesque and dramatic." 
 
 The sermon in the book of reference bore on the 
 evils of drink, and the question whether Miss Lush 
 meant to deal with that problem trembled upon 
 Lady Twickham's lips, but she held it back. Her 
 poignant interest in the liquor question must be 
 locked in her heart. Distrusting her own power to 
 keep it secret, she turned abruptly and left the 
 room. Miss Lush gazed after her in astonishment. 
 
 " Something's troubling her," said the shrewd Lush 
 to herself — " I'm sure something's troubling her."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AFTER two hours with Mr. Wragg, Dick left the 
 Bear and Cubs in a state of glorious exhilaration. 
 He was flushed and high voiced, but tolerably sober, 
 until the fresh air began to stir the fumes in his brain. 
 Then he saw strange sights — to wit, streets heaving 
 like a sea, and houses and people deliriously perform- 
 ing leap-frog. Setting down his feet very firmly, he 
 did his best to face the madness with composure. 
 
 " The 'ole bloomin' place is tight," he muttered, 
 looking round. " That's wot comes of mixin' drinks." 
 
 He stood for a little as if considering, his eyes 
 fixed on his boot-toes. Eastward lay Paradise Court 
 and Jenny — his wife, Jenny, who no longer ago 
 than that very afternoon dared to have an opinion of 
 her own when his wishes were concerned. 
 
 " An' tain't the fust time, neither, by a long chalk," 
 he thought. " Serve her jolly well right if I was to 
 scoot." He threw up his head defiantly. " Wonder 
 'ow she'd feel if I was to scoot, leaving 'er without 
 no bloke of 'er own to wallop 'er ?" he asked himself 
 
 Again he glanced eastward ; then wheeled, facing 
 to the west. Towards the sunset was the open road 
 for husbands with grievances. Westward he would 
 go, taking the Ruggler Den on his way. It seemed 
 years since he had been in that hall of divinity, and 
 Tommy Binks and the rest of them would be spoiling 
 for want of a stirring up. 
 
 252
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 253 
 
 " I'll let 'em 'ave it 'ot," he said, wagging his head 
 and lurching off — " I'll let 'em 'ave it 'ot." 
 
 At a particularly congested spot he dived among 
 the traffic in the roadway, bringing down on himself 
 curdling speeches from a dozen drivers and the spume 
 of horses suddenly reined up. Growling defiance, he 
 proceeded miraculously among wheels and forelegs 
 to come plump upon a constable who had watched 
 the performance, wondering whether an ambulance 
 would be necessary for the mangled man, 
 
 " 'Bout as bad as gettin' 'mong the dervishes," 
 remarked Dick pleasantly, and turned to sing after 
 abusive drivers of drays and cabs. 
 
 "Been drinkin'?" said the constable, looking as if 
 he meditated an arrest. 
 
 " Qui' right," answered Dick, closing one eye. 
 " Only a man not fit to stand could ever crosh there." 
 And he went his way, reflecting audibly on the 
 intelligence of the metropolitan police. 
 
 At the Baited Bull he refreshed himself with a 
 " mother-in-law," and made enquiries as to the recent 
 course of events in the neighbourhood. That done, 
 he turned into the darksome court, the scene of many 
 a grisly tragedy, climbed the black, familiar stair, and 
 safely navigated the intricate passages in which a 
 soberer man would infallibly have lost himself. Before 
 the inner sanctuary he paused one moment to draw 
 breath. The next, pushing open the door, he entered 
 the dusky holy of holies, where sat the high-priests 
 shrouded in pungent tobacco smoke. Through the 
 murkiness he discerned half a dozen upturned faces, 
 and had no difficulty in recognising those of Tommy 
 Binks and Velvet Chick. 
 
 " Ho, ho ! " cried Dick, drawing himself up to the 
 best of his ability. " 'Ows the bloomin' lot o' ye? 
 Got a seat for a cove ? " 
 
 Some one kicked an empty whiskey case towards him.
 
 254 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Nice easy-chair," said Dick, setting it against the 
 wall. " Didn't expect to see me, eh ? " grinning on the 
 company when he was seated. " Reckon ye thought 
 I was a bloomin' 'tec. comin' to drink yer 'ealth. 
 Well, give the lotion a name," clinking half a crown 
 on the table. When it was named and procured he 
 was asked what he had been doing with himself lately. 
 
 " Doing ! " cried Dick, waving his glass in the air — 
 " doing ! " and he launched into a tale of public-house 
 joys and social honours nicely calculated to make the 
 mouths of listeners water. He was soaring beautifully 
 in the regions of imagination, when all at once Velvet 
 Chick let off a satirical shaft. Dick was just sober 
 enough to discern that the insult was deliberate, and 
 to express his resentment in suitable terms. Instead 
 of apologising, Velvet Chick was at pains to drive 
 the insult home ; and Dick's pulses began to beat up 
 for retaliation. Had he been in his right senses he 
 would have remembered that the man sitting opposite, 
 with the bulldog jowl and the rolling, red eye was 
 Chick of the iron fists— Chick, who took " sauce " from 
 no one under the dimensions of a champion heavy- 
 weight. Being three parts drunk and on his honour, 
 he leaned forward and addressed the offender in the 
 language in which Paradise Court frames declarations 
 of war. At that Velvet Chick rose and shook him- 
 self, an unholy joy beaming in his purple face. 
 Tommy Binks, who understood without explanation, 
 remarked it would be inconvenient to have " a mess 
 in the place " ; moreover, damage done to furniture 
 would have to be paid for in cash. Chick said the 
 point was important, and if Dick were agreeable they 
 would retire for a little by themselves. So they went 
 out together. 
 
 Ten minutes later Velvet Chick popped in his 
 head to say he must be off now ; and an hour after- 
 wards Dick was found, limp and gory, in a corner
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 255 
 
 of the black court. As he was unable to give any 
 account of himself, he was taken on a police am- 
 bulance to the nearest hospital, where the surgeon- 
 in-charge remarked succinctly he had got something 
 he shouldn't forget, supposing he recovered his wits, 
 which was doubtful. 
 
 Now that surgeon was a good surgeon, as was 
 proved by the fact that he was entitled to append 
 half the alphabet to his name ; but he made the 
 mistake of taking his patient's recuperative power at 
 the human average. So judged, Dick ought to have 
 died at least a dozen times in various quarters of the 
 globe ; and he had no present intention of putting 
 the hospital authorities to the expense of a funeral. 
 
 Next morning found him in full possession of 
 his faculties ; but when asked for the fragment of 
 biography which would explain his misfortune, he 
 absolutely declined to be pumped. There he was, 
 to be treated for wounds and bruises if they liked ; if 
 they didn't like, he presumed they were free to chuck 
 him — a form of hospitality with which he was not 
 unacquainted. After some dubitation, however, he 
 gave his address ; and Jenny, tearful and trembling, 
 hastened to discover the extent of her trouble. 
 
 " Thought you was a widow, maybe," said Dick, 
 blinking up at her from among his bandages. '"Ow'd 
 you like to be a widow ? Nice piece of luck that 
 'ud be, eh ! " 
 
 " Oh Dick ! don't talk like that," cried Jenny, 
 dropping on her knees beside his cot. " Who done 
 it, Dick ? tell me who done it." 
 
 Dick studied her wet face with evident satisfaction. 
 He was not above vanity, and those tears were a 
 tribute to his worth. 
 
 " Chum o' mine," he answered ; " done it well, too, 
 I must say. Only 'e don't want no talk 'bout it, 
 'cos 'e's so bloomin' modest."
 
 256 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 She had been warned not to excite the patient, 
 and had to leave without the knowledge she desired. 
 But she could not help asking if he were much hurt. 
 Dick replied he was merely having a rest, and ex- 
 pected to be home for dinner, 
 
 " Some of yer extry spiced sosiges," he said ; and 
 meanwhile she might let Vincent Twickham know 
 where he was detained. " P'r'aps want to see me 
 on business," he explained gravely. " Besides, Lord 
 Tapley an' 'ims good company ; an' they ain't none 
 too lively in 'ere, 'cept when they're takin' away 
 the corpses." 
 
 " Don't, Dick — don't," cried Jenny, hiding her face in 
 her apron. " It makes me feel creepy and sick." 
 
 " That's wot comes of 'ome training," rejoined 
 Dick. " If ye'd seen 'em 'eaped in Gov'mint trenches 
 same's me, a stray corpse more or less wouldn't take 
 away yer appetite." 
 
 Here the nurse in charge of the ward interfered. 
 The patient was feverish and must not be exhausted ; 
 and certainly all that was visible of Dick looked 
 extremely feverish indeed. So, having bestowed a 
 furtive kiss on the end of a bandage, Jenny left, 
 drying her eyes as she went. 
 
 Some hours later a cab drove up to the hospital 
 entrance, and out of it stepped Vincent and Tapley. 
 Hearing them as they entered his ward, Dick rose 
 to his elbow, and they could see he was trying 
 to smile. Much talk being forbidden, they briefly 
 expressed their sorrow at finding him on his back, 
 hoped he would soon be well again, and asked how 
 it had all happened. Dick glanced round cautiously 
 to sec there were no uninvited listeners. 
 
 " Fact is," he said, with a meaning twinkle in his 
 eye, " I looked in at the Ruggler Den last night. 
 Don't want to peach or nothin' like that, but me an' 
 Velvet Chick 'ad a difference, an' I got this 'cos
 
 Mine on tbc Xces 257 
 
 I was boozed. A man's a fool to fight when 'e's 
 boozed ; though it's then 'e wants to fight most, the 
 bloomin' silly ! " 
 
 " Are you very much hurt ? " asked Vincent, 
 bending over him. 
 
 " A bit bashed, that's all," replied Dick. " Ye see, 
 sir, I hadn't no chance, bein' boozed, an' 'im sober. 
 But a man deserves wot 'e gets for not bein' able to 
 take care of 'imself " 
 
 " Did Velvet Chick attack you ? " put in Tapley. 
 
 " T'other way about," answered Dick, not without 
 a note of pride. " Bein' boozed, I nat'rilly went for 
 'im.'" 
 
 " And how the devil did you manage to get 
 boozed ? " demanded Tapley. " Didn't you promise 
 on your honour to keep sober ? " 
 
 " It was all along o' Mr. Wragg," explained Dick 
 meekly. " Bein' a bit in the blues towards evenin', 
 owin' to the fog, I turns in there, an' 'e was mighty 
 sociable, was Mr. Wragg. 'E's an honour to a public- 
 'ouse, is that man. An' 'is missis, too, she wanted to 
 know 'ow you was, both of you, an' she asked so 
 pretty, I told 'em you was rippin'. An' Wragg up 
 an' says we must drink your 'ealth, both of you, 
 which we did ; an' then we drank 'is 'ealth, and then 
 'is missis', an' then mine ; an' the next thing was 
 the kick up with Velvet Chick. Chick can use 
 'is fists." 
 
 " Evidently," said Tapley, looking hard at the 
 wreck before him. 
 
 " I ain't never denied it, Tottie," rejoined Dick. 
 " But you leave 'im to me, an' see wot 'appens." 
 
 "If you meddle with him again we shall be attending 
 your funeral. But there, you're breaking the rules 
 by getting excited. Lie quiet, or you'll be seeing 
 black dogs." 
 
 " Yes," said Vincent pleasantly ; " and we'll be 
 
 17
 
 258 mine on tbe Xees 
 
 back to see you. Is there anything we could do 
 for you ? " 
 
 " Nothin', sir, as I can think on," responded Dick, 
 as if considering. " The ole woman's a bit broke up 
 'bout seein' 'er 'usband lyin' 'ere an' not understandin' 
 'ow. If you was to come acrost 'er by accident, you 
 won't say nothin' 'bout Velvet Chick. That sort 
 of information don't do a woman no good." 
 
 Interpreting this speech aright, Vincent and Tapley 
 took a hansom to Paradise Court, where Jenny was 
 pricking her fingers (her eyes being dim and sore) 
 on work for a Jewish tailor in the cellars below. 
 Loo, who chanced to be scouting on the stair, retreated 
 precipitately, sounding an alarm, a circumstance 
 which guided the visitors to the right door. Jenny 
 had just time to thrust her sewing under a corner of 
 the bed and hastily brush the thread ends from her 
 dress before the knock sounded. That knock made 
 her heart stop ; for she was certain they came to 
 tell her Dick was dead. Vincent's hearty greeting 
 and Tapley's cheery face reassured her, though she 
 fluttered like a captured bird as she curtseyed and 
 bowed them in. 
 
 Loo, meanwhile, had taken up a position behind 
 the bed, whence she could observe the enemy, who 
 were, of course, bent on mischief Well meaning 
 ladies she occasionally saw in that room ; but men 
 never came except to make " mammy " cry. So she 
 watched narrowly as her mother set the only chairs 
 for the visitors, wondering at the folly. But presently 
 she became aware of a singular thing in her experi- 
 ence — namely, that the enemy spoke in a friendly 
 and affable way about " daddy," saying he would 
 soon be with them again, and, contrary to all expecta- 
 tion, seemed to have come for the express purpose 
 of diffusing happiness. Taking heart of grace. Loo 
 ventured out of her entrenchment. Then her
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 259 
 
 astonishment received the finishinc^ touch when, on 
 rising to go, one of the gentlemen slipped a gold piece 
 into her hand with no more ado than if it were 
 a lollipop. Loo could only stare in bewilderment ; 
 such things were unaccountable. It was unaccount- 
 able, too, that her mother should be more put about 
 by the kindness of these visitors than she usually 
 was by the bullying of others.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 NO folly in the world is more easily accomplished 
 than that of assuming vicarious responsibility ; 
 none has less expected consequences. At breakfast 
 next morning Vincent became aware that the failings 
 of two highly fallible men were on his shoulders, 
 and that the burden might be troublesome. For 
 the present, one lay safely in hospital ; the other 
 was quarantined in a Spitalfields lodging-house ; but 
 he knew they depended on him with child-like con- 
 fidence for succour. There was no mistaking Dick's 
 tone and look at the last interview ; and from the first 
 Ingledew exhibited a faith worthy of higher things. 
 The situation was discussed with Tapley, who 
 promptly agreed that the pair could not be aban- 
 doned after being led to hope. 
 
 " We're bound in honour to see them through," he 
 said, " though the landing's dark." 
 
 Ingledew would have been removed forthwith to 
 better quarters but for the fact that the deputy, in 
 whose charge he lay, was in league to keep him sober, 
 and could freeze his soul with terror in case of 
 disobedience. But it was necessary to think out 
 some scheme of deliverance, for he could not for ever 
 be kept immured in a Spitalfields lodging-house, even 
 for his own good. So they paid him an early visit, 
 ostensibly to enquire after his health ; in reality 
 to find out whether he wouldn't like to imitate 
 the prodigal son, and return to his family. But 
 
 260
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 261 
 
 at the mere suggestion a shivering terror seized 
 him. For the love of God they would dismiss the 
 idea from their minds. Oh ! if they only knew how 
 shamefully he had been treated by his family ! No, 
 no — they would not send him home ; anything they 
 liked but that. 
 
 The shameful treatment, it should be said, consisted 
 of a patient, heart-breaking effort made by long- 
 suffering parents to keep Mr. Ingledew in the paths 
 of rectitude. In this pious enterprise a mint of 
 money was spent. He had been sent to Australia, 
 to America, to South Africa, with costly outfits and 
 prayerful exhortations, which he promised, with tears, 
 to follow. At the same time letters of credit were 
 entrusted to his father's bankers and their agents for 
 his use. Abroad, he was generally happy and pros- 
 perous, just as long as the letters of credit held out ; 
 then he mysteriously found his way back to England. 
 To hear him relate the adventures of a stowaway was 
 an enthralling experience. But it was with accounts 
 of orgies in other lands that he captivated Alsatia. 
 A tale of riotous festivity under a sensuous foreign 
 moon was a trump which Ingledew played with 
 unfailing success. How many glasses of MacTor it 
 procured him it would be hazardous to state ; for 
 Alsatia treats generously in return for being amused. 
 
 " It was out there I got the taste for the stuff," he 
 would say. " You find it everywhere — like bugs and 
 Bibles. But I must say that what MacTor sends 
 abroad is abominably crude." And with a " Here's 
 to you," he would toss off his glass to prove his 
 appreciation of the home stuff. 
 
 Once, and the last time, he returned home — it was 
 a dramatic, never-to-be-forgotten moment — to find 
 his mother's funeral train leaving the door. 
 
 " You did this," said his father hoarsely, staggering 
 at sight of him — "this is your devil's work. You
 
 262 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 may come to see the last of her you have killed, but 
 never let me see your face again." 
 
 Room was silently made for him in a mourning 
 carriage. He was dishevelled by travel and reeking 
 with brandy, drunk an hour before to fortify him 
 against the meeting ; but he went as he was, his 
 father sitting by his side, bowed in grief and shame. 
 When the final scene was over, he was taken firmly 
 by the arm, thrust into a carriage, and driven home 
 to the desolation he had made. In the evening his 
 father took him to the station, put him in the London 
 train, and bade him go — for ever. He went, and 
 London swallowed him, as it swallows so many of 
 his kind. Disappearing from the eyes of all who 
 knew him, he went down and ever down in the vortex 
 that sucks insatiably, till he reached the nethermost 
 circle of hell. 
 
 How he lived is a mystery known to God alone, 
 as it is a mystery beyond guessing to drawing-room 
 moralists how multitudes of the children of folly and 
 misfortune contrive to exist. It is to be presumed 
 that every man who attains eminence in wrongdoing 
 starts with a good spice of the old Adam ; and that 
 spice is the salt which preserves. But one day the 
 salt loses its savour. Time and the devil, working 
 insidiously, at last bring down their quarry, and one 
 more soul goes to the Ancient of Days for judgment, 
 leaving the preacher a moral. The toils were closing 
 about Inglcdew when Vincent came upon him. 
 
 " 'E won't last much longer, 'e won't, poor devil ! " 
 Alsatia said, giving him something to speed him on 
 his way. And once or twice it had occurred to 
 himself, on awakening, ill and exhausted, from a 
 debauched sleep, that the game he called life was 
 nearly over, that the time was at hand when he would 
 lie down in the dark like a stricken beast, and be 
 thrust into a pauper's coffin, and dumped in a parish
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 263 
 
 pit with a dozen wastrels packed on the top of him. 
 Then he would rave for drink, crying out that he was 
 burning alive. When drunk he had the happiness 
 of the sot ; when sober he was utterly and unspeak- 
 ably miserable ; for it was his misfortune to have the 
 remnants of a conscience, and a faculty of reflection 
 which was an instrument of torture. In that respect 
 he was at a bitter disadvantage compared with those 
 about him. 
 
 To prove that the new regimen disagreed with him, 
 he fell desperately ill. 
 
 " E'U die if 'e don't 'ave liquor," said the deputy, 
 a man deeply versed in the eccentricities of the toper — 
 " e'll die, that's wot 'e'll do, an' there'll be a hinquest 
 an' all the rest of the blessed mess." 
 
 So he was authorised to prevent the catastrophe ; 
 and Tapley was able to tell MacTor how his whiskey 
 saved the life of a fellow creature. 
 
 " There's worse medicine than whiskey," responded 
 MacTor, rubbing his hands. " I have more faith in 
 it than in drugs, and that's honest." 
 
 It took a protracted course of MacTor, as well as 
 some drugs, prescribed by Dr. Brinkley, a local 
 practitioner called in by Vincent, to get Ingledew 
 over the crisis. The same physician was put in charge 
 of Dick, who was removed to Paradise Court as soon 
 as the hospital people could be induced to part with 
 him. He had received more than he suspected 
 from Velvet Chick ; and the Twickham tonic was 
 pronounced rank poison. Dick protested vigorously. 
 He had been " bashed " before, and had never given 
 up his glass ; for the life of him he couldn't see 
 why he should give it up now, when he most needed 
 the cup that cheers. 
 
 " It's for your life you're doing it, my man," said the 
 doctor. "If you drink, you die ; take your choice. 
 There's a great deal too much alcohol in his system
 
 264 IKlltne on tbe Xees 
 
 already," added the man of science privately. " He's 
 just ripe for a finishing inflammation. A man lives 
 hard for twenty years, and in the twenty-first is 
 aggrieved because nature so much as hints at render- 
 ing her account. Now while she is marvellously 
 generous in giving credit, she positively declines to 
 tolerate a bankrupt. In the end she is pitiless in 
 exacting her own. Give our friend a quart of whiskey 
 now, and you may send for the undertaker." 
 
 " I think you've frightened him, doctor," laughed 
 Vincent. 
 
 " I have been thirty years in practice," returned 
 the doctor gravely, "and I've never yet seen the man 
 in his senses who, if it was put to him in the moment 
 of danger, wasn't afraid of death." 
 
 " Isn't religion supposed to get one over that fear? " 
 asked Tapley. 
 
 " I'm not a priest," answered Dr. Brinkley ; " I only 
 know that medicine doesn't." 
 
 " Not even in the case of doctors ? " 
 
 " The man," rejoined the doctor, " who has put his 
 hundreds under ground quakes none the less when his 
 own time comes. But if physicians were sentimental 
 they'd go mad." 
 
 " Well, well, doctor," put in Vincent, " you'll pull 
 Goodman through." 
 
 "If you keep him sober," replied the doctor. " I 
 don't undertake to heal wounds and fight the devil at 
 the same time." 
 
 " A pretty pickle we've got into, Vin," remarked 
 Tapley. 
 
 " Never mind," was the cheerful response ; " we've 
 got a new amusement." 
 
 For a while the new amusement took the form 
 of daily visits to Spitalfields and Paradise Court, with 
 a smuggling of such delicacies as the masculine mind 
 and a knowledge of the patients' tastes suggested.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 265 
 
 The incarnation of meekness, Inglcdew took what he 
 got with proper gratitude. Dick, on the other hand, 
 cursed his fate and called the doctor names. To 
 comfort him they brought newspapers, which Tapley, 
 sitting on the edge of the bed, read aloud in defiance 
 of orders. It chanced that the Black Watch was 
 doing gory work in India, and Dick followed the 
 course of events breathlessly. 
 
 " The Red 'ccklc to the front, as usual," he would 
 cry. " Tottie, let's 'ave the fightin'." 
 
 And when, in the account of the storming of a 
 position, Tapley read how a certain major led the left 
 wing through a devastating fire, Dick nearly leaped 
 from his bed. 
 
 " My ole cap'n," he shouted — " my ole cap'n ; the 
 man as is like you, sir ; the man as would lead 
 through 'Ell if the colonel said so. Lor', lor', them 
 there stickin' the blessed 'eathen, an' we 'ere ! " And 
 Dick fell back in disgust. 
 
 Going to and fro about Spitalfields and the purlieus 
 of Paradise Court, Vincent saw yet more of the 
 horrors which appalled and yet fascinated him. At 
 Tapley's suggestion, experimental rounds were made 
 with Dr. Brinkley. 
 
 "Where I go, you cannot always follow," he told 
 them. " I live and move and have my being in an 
 element of perpetual epidemics. But where there's 
 no infection, and you think your stomach's strong 
 enough, you're welcome." 
 
 So they went where the shilling doctor goes, into 
 the warrens of crime and vice and festering misery ; 
 among the fetid dens, where the outlaw hides, and 
 the outcast lies down to die ; through the black 
 alleys, where the thief rests for a little from his 
 labours, chuckling over his own exploits as described 
 by an enterprising Press, and men talk robbery and 
 murder as brokers talk per centages ; down to the
 
 266 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 cellars, where the famished can scarce guard against 
 the rats ; up to the garrets, where the wail of misused 
 infancy never ceases ; into pest-holes, where the living 
 and the dead lie side by side, and the dead are 
 stripped that the living may drink ; up and down 
 regions in which the people, from the child of three 
 to the old man of sixty, give their days and nights 
 to infamy, and take their wages in defiance of 
 law. 
 
 " My God ! if they were to rise ! " was Vincent's 
 thought. But what he did was to enquire of the 
 doctor if the rich, respectable sections of the com- 
 munity had any idea that all this existed by their 
 side. 
 
 " None whatever," answered the doctor. " The 
 police, the hospitals, the slum doctors, the publicans, 
 and a few philanthropists know. The rest don't know 
 and don't care. They think that the heathen lives 
 somewhere abroad, and has a black or a brown face, 
 and dines on his next-door neighbour. Now it 
 happens that I've been abroad in my day, among 
 blacks and browns in their chosen haunts, and I tell 
 you the real heathens are in the heart of the capital 
 of our country." 
 
 " Well, doctor, they don't kill and eat each other," 
 said Tapley. 
 
 " True," returned the- doctor ; " we just manage to 
 keep them from that. But I'm not sure they don't 
 do as bad, or worse. What you have seen may 
 suggest what you haven't seen, what you daren't 
 see, what you could not look on, though God in His 
 infinite forbearance tolerates it. Oh, the fools we 
 are ! " 
 
 " I'ools ? " repeated Vincent. 
 
 " Fools, sir, blazing idiots," rejoined the doctor. 
 " We go wiping out frontier tribes and leave the 
 slums to fester, frantically extending the empire,
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 267 
 
 while the heart of that empire rots — ay, sir, rots — 
 polhiting the whole body politic. All the foreign 
 enemies in the world are not half so dangerous as 
 the inhabitants of our own slums. We subscribe 
 millions a year for the good of the heathen abroad, 
 who doesn't want us, and ignore the heathen at 
 home, who appeals for help. One of these days 
 we shall have our reward — ay, and God in heaven 
 will declare a just reward." 
 
 " And what would you suggest, doctor ? " asked 
 Vincent, tingling strangely at hearing his own 
 thoughts from another. 
 
 " Suggest ! " echoed the doctor. " Why, nothing, of 
 course. I know the value of snubs and sneers." 
 
 " You are the very man who ought to make 
 suggestions," said Vincent warmly. 
 
 " I'm a plain man," replied the doctor, " and have 
 enough to do in getting bread for my wife and 
 children, without meddling in affairs of government. 
 Still, I'll admit that ugly thoughts have been forced 
 upon me." 
 
 " As, for instance ? " 
 
 " Since you ask, as, for instance, that if we don't 
 control the traffic in certain things, it will presently 
 control us." 
 
 " You refer to drink, I presume," said Vincent. 
 
 " I'm a candid man," returned the doctor ; " I 
 refer to drink." 
 
 " And what would happen, doctor, if the drink 
 traffic controlled us ? " asked Vincent. 
 
 " I am not here to draw harrowing pictures, but 
 to minister to the sick," was the answer. " But I 
 can imagine an outraged people rising in the might 
 of wrath." 
 
 " Well, thank Heaven ! we've a standing army," 
 put in Tapley. 
 
 " May God spare me the sight of rifle barrels
 
 268 Mine on the Xees 
 
 levelled at people contending for their rights ! " said 
 the doctor. 
 
 " Rights ! " repeated Tapley quickly. " Pray, what 
 rights have criminals and drunkards ? " 
 
 " The right to protest against the system which 
 makes them criminals and drunkards. But there, 
 we're getting into an argument, and an argument 
 never yet did any human being good. I shall be 
 at the dispensary this evening from eight to ten. 
 If you care to look in you shall see a little more of 
 your fellow citizens." 
 
 "Just one word more, doctor," said Vincent. " You 
 have referred to the drink traffic. Am I to infer you 
 attribute what we have seen to drink ? " 
 
 " Drink and misfortune, and what these entail." 
 
 " But why, in Heaven's name ! do the people make 
 such fools of themselves ? " cried Tapley. " Nobody 
 forces them to drink." 
 
 Dr. Brinkley shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " A complete answer to your question would 
 involve an enquiry into the causes of original sin," 
 he said. 
 
 " And have you no cure ? " asked Vincent, trying 
 hard to curb his eagerness. 
 
 " Each of us, I suppose, has his own ideals," replied 
 the doctor. " Mine is to alleviate suffering by the 
 aid of science. Then I've sometimes thought I 
 should like to be a millionaire." 
 
 " A very common wish," laughed Tapley. 
 
 The doctor bowed. 
 
 " A very common wish," he admitted. 
 
 "And if you were a millionaire, doctor?" said 
 Vincent. 
 
 " Then, sir, I suppose I should be as ignorant or 
 as indifferent as other millionaires. But if, by any 
 chance, 1 obtained the knowledge I possess now, 
 I should do something to feed the starving, to clothe
 
 Wiinc on tbe Xees 269 
 
 the naked, and, if possible, to hang the low publican 
 and the Hebrew landlord. Believe me, even criminals 
 and drunkards would be wonderfully improved if 
 they could count on something to eat when they're 
 hungry and an overcoat when they're cold. The 
 first law of nature is to live ; these people live as 
 they can. If they can't live one way, they'll live 
 another ; and I can't help thinking it's to our interest 
 they should live decently. And, let me add, it's no 
 use tinkering their souls when their bodies are, so 
 to speak, falling to pieces. A starving man doesn't 
 care a red cent about hopes of salvation. But I can't 
 expound. Am I to expect you at the dispensary ? " 
 
 The hour was awkward ; but Vincent was urged 
 by a desire for knowledge, and Tapley was not yet 
 tired of adventure. Therefore, while the West End 
 dined, they studied a procession of the diseased and 
 the deformed and the tortured. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of it? "' asked the doctor, 
 when the procession ended. 
 
 " Horrible ! " said Vincent — " horrible ! " 
 
 And he went his way pondering many things, but 
 chiefly what Dr. Brinkley would do were he a 
 millionaire.
 
 Book V 
 
 371
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AT the end of three weeks Ingledevv left Spital- 
 ficlds for airier quarters, chosen by Dr. Brinkley, 
 Vincent and Taplcy personally superintending the 
 removal. Having settled him in decency, and 
 warned him against intoxicants, they returned in a 
 righteous glow to Berkeley Square, to find Lady 
 Twickham, Lady Gwendoline, and Miss Lush together. 
 For interesting domestic reasons Lady Gwendoline 
 was at present avoiding society ; and Lady Twickham, 
 being tenderly solicitous, thought it her bounden duty 
 to devote her spare hours to her daughter-in-law. As 
 often as Miss Lush could be torn from her work, that 
 woman of genius made one of the company, and 
 vastly entertained the prisoner. So the three were 
 now in conclave, sipping tea and administering the 
 social universe. The intruders had, of course, to give 
 an account of themselves ; and Ingledew's name came 
 up by accident. 
 
 " Oh, by the way, Vin," remarked Lady Twickham, 
 " you promised to bring that unfortunate creature to 
 me. Why haven't you done it ? " 
 
 " He's been very ill." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 " In Spitalfields." 
 
 " In Spitalfields ! " cried Lady Gwendoline, pucker- 
 ing her brows. 
 
 "In Spitalfields!" echoed Miss Lush, promptly 
 taking the cue. 
 
 273 18
 
 274 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " You are surprised," said Tapley ; " but I assure 
 you it is no uncommon thing for a man to fall ill in 
 Spitalfields. It's the chief place in London for 
 funerals — on the wholesale parish principle." 
 
 " Tom ! " ejaculated Lady Gwendoline, in severe 
 reproof. " And you've been there ? " looking from 
 her brother to her husband. 
 
 "And why not?" demanded Tom. "It's a varia- 
 tion on the usual amusements, and a jolly picturesque 
 one, too." 
 
 Vincent looked anxiously at his wife, fearful of ugly 
 impressions ; but she was evidently receiving no 
 impression whatever. 
 
 " I don't understand the taste," she responded, 
 fluttering her laces, as if to shake off contamination. 
 
 " You wouldn't care to study the picturesque East 
 Ender?" enquired Miss Lush. 
 
 " I should as soon think of studying beetles and 
 toads," was the answer. " I've always been taught, 
 and I believe in the teaching with all my heart, that it's 
 best to let the poor and vicious alone. To go staring 
 at them as if they were reptiles in the Zoo would only 
 irritate them, I should think." 
 
 " Bless you, they don't mind," said Tapley. 
 
 " In any case, it would be unkind," rejoined Lady 
 Gwendoline ; " and as for doing them good, why, 
 that would be like expecting soap and water to make 
 a nigger white. The pater says they're incapable of 
 improvement, and that, besides, they're necessary. 
 I'm treading on delicate ground," smiling upon her 
 mother-in-law, " but my firm conviction is that 
 Providence has fixed a great gulf between the rich and 
 the poor, the nobles and the proletariat — isn't that 
 the word ? — and that each should keep their own side." 
 
 " By Jove ! Gwen," cried her brother, " if you 
 haven't gone and got hold of a whole system of 
 sociology."
 
 "Mine on tbe Xees 27^5 
 
 " Naughty boy," murmured Miss Lush, chiding 
 with her most bewitching smile — " naughty boy, to 
 make sport of great problems." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Miss Lush," he said ; " I 
 ought to be more careful in your presence, because 
 you write books, and that sort of thing would boggle 
 me completely. Shouldn't know how to begin, you 
 know. All the same, I can't help thinking that men 
 and women have a quite superfluous gift for devising 
 problems. Now the only problem which bothers me 
 is how to get the best out of life, and I can tell you," 
 he added, with a wag of the head, " I find it deuced 
 hard. It's not so easy as it seems, getting just what 
 you want in this world." 
 
 " Except in fiction," suggested Vincent. " There 
 all things are for the best in the best of all possible 
 worlds." 
 
 " I don't know," said Miss Lush modestly. " Fiction 
 tries to follow fact, though its shameful how fact 
 sometimes plagiarises from fiction. The poor novelist 
 invents a sensation, to find it forthwith repeated in 
 actual life." 
 
 " Isn't imitation the sincerest form of flattery ? " 
 asked Lady Gwendoline sweetly. 
 
 " I should think Nature must welcome a tip," 
 interpolated Tapley. " After all these measureless 
 a:ons we hear so much about, she must be getting 
 a trifle stale, poor thing ! It's no joke, carrying on 
 the world for a million years or so, all by oneself, 
 so to speak." 
 
 " It's kind of the novelist to come to the rescue," 
 cooed Lady Gwendoline. " Well, if I were a novelist, 
 all the good characters left at the end of a book 
 should be happy." 
 
 " Wedding bells," said Miss Lush, with the faintest 
 of blushes. 
 
 " Yes ; only I shouldn't have the course of love run
 
 276 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 too smoothly, you know. To prevent insipidity I'd 
 have plenty of obstacles, and despair, and tears, and 
 sighs, and passionate vows, by people who could keep 
 them." 
 
 " And at last general embracing," remarked her 
 brother. " Very interesting, isn't it. Miss Lush ? " 
 
 "Very interesting," admitted Miss Lush, smiling 
 divinely. 
 
 " Only, you know, it's never the least like that in 
 real life," pursued Tapley. " Nobody that I know 
 has gone through a course of agonised affection to 
 reach the altar. The romantic stuff wc get in books 
 is just so much tommy-rot ; don't you think so? " 
 
 " When I see young men becoming cynical," 
 interposed Lady Twickham, " then I know their 
 turn has come. Who is it, Tom, dear? " 
 
 Whereupon the company laughed. Miss Lush 
 feeling she would give half the revenue from her next 
 book to have the correct answer to the question. 
 
 " The talk of novels, my dear Miss Lush, reminds 
 me of your new book," her ladyship went on. " How 
 is it progressing ? Miss Lush," looking round im- 
 pressively, " is deep in a new novel, and you \\'on't 
 guess what it's about." 
 
 " Love, of course," ventured Tapley, who knew as 
 fnuch of the bent of Miss Lush's genius as of 
 Assyrian inscriptions. 
 
 " May I divulge, my dear ? " asked Lady Twickham. 
 " Thank you. Well,' it's about the East End." 
 
 As she expected, there were cries of wonder and 
 demands to be informed "how ever" Miss Lush came 
 to choose such a subject. 
 
 " Miss Lush may choose her subject anywhere," 
 Lady Twickham told them. " It's the art that 
 signifies." 
 
 Miss Lush, with the light of joy dancing in her 
 face, bowed to the dictum.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 277 
 
 "By Jove! I'll read that book," declared Tapley, 
 with emphasis. 
 
 " So shall we all," said Lady Twickham — " so 
 shall we all. I mustn't be telling tales out of school. 
 Wait, and you shall have a sensation." 
 
 Thereupon they blithely returned to Spitalfields 
 and Paradise Court, whither, for the present, we need 
 not follow them. 
 
 Another week's doctoring and general renovation 
 in the matter of dress made Ingledew, it was thought, 
 fit to be presented to Lady Twickham. At the 
 appointed hour she studied him as she might have 
 studied a natural history specimen exhibiting a rare 
 and interesting disease, Vincent watching intently. 
 
 " Pathetic ! " was the verdict when he was dismissed, 
 with an expression of sympathy and an exhortation 
 to shun strong drink — " pathetic ! What are you 
 going to do with him ? " 
 
 " A hard question, mother," laughed Vincent. 
 " The natural thing would be to send him home ; 
 but he says they won't have him." 
 
 " Renounced him in despair, I suppose," sighed 
 Lady Twickham. " The Ingledcws, I find, are well- 
 known county people. Would it be any use my 
 interceding? " 
 
 " I don't think I should make intercession just 
 yet," returned Vincent. " His father is, or was, very 
 angry with him, and might decline reconciliation 
 We must try to find out." 
 
 Lady Twickham looked pensively at her son. 
 They were alone ; and many thoughts surged in her 
 breast. 
 
 " It's a terrible thing when father and son arc 
 divided," she remarked pkdntively — " very terrible. 
 I fancy young Ingledew has exhausted his father's 
 patience. By the way, how does your other ^ rot t'gt' 
 progress ? "
 
 278 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " He's out of hospital. Goodman's exceptionally 
 tough. I think he must have as many lives as a 
 cat.'.' 
 
 " And he'll lose them all suddenly, if he doesn't 
 take care. His v/ife informed me she hadn't the least 
 idea how he got hurt. Do you know ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ; he told me quite frankly. It seems he 
 fell out with a sort of professor of pugilism, ironically 
 called Velvet Chick, and got the worst of it." 
 
 " Tipsy, I fancy," said Lady Twickham. " What 
 is to become of him ? " 
 
 " What is to become of them all, mother ? " asked 
 Vincent, smiling sadly. 
 
 She gave a little start, a question which she durst 
 not put trembling on her lips. She knew what was 
 in his mind ; he guessed what was in hers ; and each 
 strove after an elaborate indifference, their thoughts 
 surging and beating about the same hidden point. 
 Accidentally Vincent ^ mentioned Dr. Brinkley, re- 
 peating some of his statements. 
 
 " Does he know the East End well ? " asked Lady 
 Twickham, a strange sensation at her heart. 
 
 " He's been thirty years in the slums, mother." 
 
 " Then he knows. Does he ascribe any cause for 
 the degradation and general wretchedness ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Vincent quietly. " He ascribes 
 drink." 
 
 Lady Twickham's pulses beat painfully. She could 
 hardly trust herself to speak ; but she must say 
 something. 
 
 " And do you agree with him ? " she asked, and 
 waited for the answer as for a death sentence. 
 
 Vincent looked at her, love and pity blended in his 
 face. 
 
 " Any one who is honest must agree with him, 
 mother," he said slowly. 
 
 A reeling sensation came upon Lady Twickham.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 279 
 
 Though seated, she felt as if she were falling down 
 a bottomless pit, and her face grew deadly white. 
 
 Vincent leaped to her side. 
 
 " Mother," he cried, " what is the matter ? Are 
 you ill ? Have I agitated you ? " 
 
 She put out a trembling hand to him. 
 
 " No, dear," she gasped ; " it's nothing. I shall be 
 well instantly."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE secret was out. From Vincent's own lips 
 Lady Twickham heard how he regarded the 
 traffic which brought him his wealth ; and there fell 
 on her a dark and horrible sense of a world suddenly 
 gone wrong. With a beating and confused mind 
 she sat down to think, her son's fateful admission and 
 her husband's scornful comments ringing alternately 
 in her ears. Alone amid the grandeur of Mayfair 
 she bowed the head, pressing throbbing brows with 
 her fingers. Her mother's insight told her they had 
 not heard the last of Vincent's disapproval ; and 
 picturing the shock of conflict between father and 
 son, she quivered as one touched in the quick. 
 What would Lord Twickham say? What would 
 Vincent do ? What would the world think ? 
 
 Had Miss Lush been near she would have gone 
 to that fountain of consolation ; Miss Lush being 
 too far off, she went to Lady Gwendoline. Nothing 
 could be more natural than that in any matter 
 touching a man's honour or interest, his mother 
 should take counsel with his wife. But in her 
 commotion it had not occurred to the mother 
 that the wife might not be as well informed as 
 herself. So she plunged into the subject, like a 
 fugitive hard pressed, taking the flood at a bound ; 
 and instantly drew back in sharp self-reproach for 
 the rashness. Lady Gwendoline laughed at Lady 
 Twickham's delusion. Vincent would never be so 
 
 280
 
 Mine on the Xees 281 
 
 foolish as to fly in the face of his own interests. 
 They must really give him credit for some common 
 sense ; the thing was too absurd to be discussed — 
 quite too absurd. 
 
 A little later she rallied him on his " attack of 
 conscience," and was amazed to find him look grave. 
 
 " I didn't wish to have you bothered just now," 
 he said ; " but what mother has told you is true." 
 
 " True ! " cried Lady Gwendoline. " You don't 
 mean that, Vin — you can't mean it." 
 
 " I wish to God you were right, Gwen," was the 
 reply — " I wish you were right." 
 
 "Why, of course I'm right," she said, affecting a 
 gaiety she did not feel, for there was a disconcerting 
 look in her husband's face. " What can have put the 
 silly idea into your head ? " 
 
 " What speaks nothing but truth. But there, 
 you re looking serious, and that's absurd. We ought 
 to be thinking of other things, little duck." 
 
 She nestled close to him, and he caught her in his 
 arms. 
 
 " Oh ! you're too violent," she panted. " No — not 
 that, Vin," she corrected quickly ; " but you are so 
 dreadfully in earnest." 
 
 " Even in loving my wife," he said, smiling in her 
 face. " Well, she'll forgive me. Her gown is not 
 the least crushed. Upon my honour." 
 
 " You ridiculous boy," she said, daintily tapping 
 on the bridge of his nose — " you very ridiculous 
 boy." 
 
 What is whispered in the closet in the morning 
 may in the evening be shouted from the house-top. 
 Quite naturally, news of Vincent's vagaries reached 
 Tapley. Then it percolated through the Earl of 
 Wegron to MacTor ; and in due course Miss Lush 
 flew to Lady Twickham for contradiction of the evil 
 report. But none durst speak of it to Lord Twickham ;
 
 282 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 so the co-partner of destiny went on his way, master- 
 fully planning for the coming generations. 
 
 Apart from Lady Twickham, MacTor took Vincent's 
 apostasy most deeply to heart. For a whole day 
 he went about muttering to himself, " I won't believe 
 it ; I can't believe it ; it's absurd." 
 
 He consulted the books of the MacTor Distillery 
 Company, and found the delinquent the registered 
 proprietor of a quarter of a million of the capital. 
 MacTor trembled, thinking what might happen. 
 
 " Godsake, if he was to kick up ! " he said to himself. 
 " I wish fools weren't created to vex man in business. 
 But Vincent can never mean what is attributed to 
 him ; I won't believe it." 
 
 And, indeed, it was not until Tapley had been 
 closeted a full hour with his brother-in-law, and 
 reported Vincent's ugly frame of mind, that the 
 gravity of the situation was realised. 
 
 For the first time in his life Tapley gave way 
 to excitement. 
 
 " Hang it, you know, Vin," he protested, in the 
 private interview, " you really mustn't be going off 
 the rails like this ; it's preposterous." 
 
 " Going off the rails ! " repeated Vincent. " I'm 
 trying with all my might to keep on the rails, and 
 it's the hardest work I've ever had. You know what 
 we've seen." 
 
 " Great Heavens ! " cried Tapley, his amazement 
 not wholly smothering his disgust, " you don't mean 
 to say you're dwelling on that ! We have seen a lot 
 of fools whom all the powers in the world could not 
 wean from their folly." 
 
 " We've seen more, Tom." 
 
 " What, pray ? " 
 
 " Respectable people pressing the folly on the 
 fools ; that's the rub." 
 
 " Upon my honour, I don't understand you, Vin."
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 283 
 
 " If I must be explicit, we have seen great and 
 powerful organisations, in which some of us are 
 interested, engaged with all the resources of civilisa- 
 tion in sending people post-haste to Hell. There, the 
 truth's out ! " 
 
 "Oh! I say, that's getting sulphurous. I'm no 
 theologian ; but I understood Hell was abolished." 
 
 " We won't quibble. So far as I can see, ruin is 
 IIcll and Hell is ruin. Take your choice of words. 
 If you have come through our late experiences 
 without being forced to the conclusion I have named, 
 then I envy you." 
 
 " Vin," said Tapley solemnly, " if I had for a 
 moment guessed this possibility, I'd have seen you 
 hanged before going to the slums with you, ay, and 
 Goodman shot for his sins. He's at the bottom of 
 it all. Confound him ! if he had kept away from St. 
 Edmund, or been left to his deserts " 
 
 " I should still be in a state of happy ignorance," 
 broke in Vincent. 
 
 " Anyway, this wouldn't have happened," said 
 Tapley. 
 
 "If the end were seen from the beginning, I daresay 
 many of us would steer a different course," rejoined 
 Vincent quietly. " But you mustn't blame Goodman. 
 I am sure the promulgation of the truth would be 
 the very last thing he would think of. You may 
 take it he had no evangelical designs on me." 
 
 " Vin, I don't like to hear you talk like that — 
 upon my soul, I don't," said Tapley, with fervour. 
 
 " Then let's talk of something else," replied Vincent. 
 " Goodman and Ingledew are on our hands. You'll 
 help me to see them through." 
 
 Tapley departed in a perturbed and anxious state 
 of mind. Nor had the Earl of Wegron and MacTor 
 happier thoughts when Vincent's extraordinary 
 ideas were repeated to them.
 
 i 
 
 284 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " This will never do," said the Earl decisively. 
 
 " Never," repeated MacTor — " never. Can't you 
 bring him back to reason, my lord ? " 
 
 •' Gad ! I don't like the job," said the Earl. " It's 
 a delicate enterprise, you know, teaching your son- 
 in-law sense. You're the very man yourself, MacTor." 
 
 " H'm," said MacTor, " and how am I to set about 
 the thing ? " 
 
 " Must feel our way gingerly," rejoined the Earl. 
 " Suppose, now, you were to get him quite informally 
 to luncheon, in your private room, and my son and 
 I would drop in accidentally, you know. If the three 
 of us can't bring him round, he's lost." 
 
 " Capital ! " cried MacTor — " first-rate ! See what 
 the diplomatic mind does." 
 
 So Vincent casually visited the MacTor offices, and 
 w^as casually invited to luncheon ; and the Earl and 
 Viscount Tapley dropped in accidentally according 
 to arrangement, and were included in the luncheon 
 party. It was a merry luncheon ; the talk sparkling 
 as gaily as the wine they drank. The meal was 
 nearly over when the Earl put a simple question 
 about business. 
 
 " You'll excuse me," he said apologetically, " but 
 you know, MacTor, I'm on the Board, and the law's 
 getting deuced strict about the duties and responsi- 
 bilities of directors." 
 
 " Quite right, too," replied MacTor promptly. 
 " Directors are for directing, not merely for pocketing 
 fees as a reward for amusing themselves with other 
 people's money. What amazes one is the leniency of 
 the law. If all had their due, half the Boards in 
 England would be serving their country under the 
 sign of the Broad Arrow. But so far as we're con- 
 cerned, if our accounts were to be investigated to- 
 morrow I think you might sleep with an easy mind 
 to-night. I have just been looking into things a
 
 Mine on tbc Xecs 285 
 
 little, and since we're all in the same boat, I'll confess 
 sales were never so satisfactory as they are now. 
 That's what comes of dealing in an article that the 
 public want and the public must have." 
 
 " Good ! " said the Earl ecstatically. " You'd raise 
 the spirits of Job himself." 
 
 " If I had the proper spirit to ply him with," 
 answered MacTor playfully. " Don't you think, now, 
 that if Eliphaz the Temanite and his friends had 
 brought a drop of good whiskey to that famous 
 conference, it would be worth all their misapplied 
 wisdom ? " 
 
 "Probably," admitted the Earl. "Might have taken 
 the edge of Job's sarcasms — softened the old chap's 
 tongue, so to speak." 
 
 " It softens tongues to-day," said MacTor. 
 
 " And I drink yet higher success to it," added the 
 Earl, raising his glass. 
 
 While the Earl and MacTor ran on thus, they 
 watched the effect on Vincent ; but for all their 
 jocularity his face remained immitigably grave. 
 
 " I wish I had more of your shares," pursued the 
 Earl, with a meaning look at MacTor. " But 1 
 suppose they're not to be picked up ? " 
 
 " Not exactly picked up," answered MacTor. 
 " They're rising, you know — constantly rising ; and 
 shares that are going up are not to be had in the 
 bucket shops. With the next dividend I think you 
 may expect a brisk little spurt. Lord Twickham 
 thinks we can go at least two and a half per cent, 
 better than in our first year, and you know how 
 mouths watered over what we paid then. I know we 
 can, and add to the reserve, besides carrying forward 
 a pretty little tit-bit. Oh ! the shares are healthy — 
 perfectly healthy, thank you. I wish I were as lucky 
 in my holding as some of my friends." 
 
 At that moment Vincent looked up, and MacTor
 
 286 Mine on the %ccs 
 
 smiled congratulations upon him. Remarking that 
 the room was uncomfortably warm, Vincent rose, 
 and made a pretence of looking out of the window. 
 Then he examined pictures of the MacTor Distilleries 
 with which the walls were adorned, Tapley joining 
 him in the study ; and all the while the Earl and 
 MacTor exchanged nods and signs. 
 
 " Why the deuce doesn't he talk ? " the Earl seemed 
 to say ; and MacTor seemed to respond, " Why the 
 deuce doesn't he ? " 
 
 " By the way," remarked Duncan carelessly, look- 
 ing over his shoulder at Vincent, "when the next 
 Liquor Bill comes up in the Commons, I hope you'll 
 scorch the teetotalers. I daresay you forget there's 
 no trade on earth has to cope with so many prejudices 
 as ours." 
 
 Swinging half round, Vincent looked down into the 
 rubicund face turned towards him, a sudden glow 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " From what you have just been telling us of the 
 prosperity of the Distilleries, my championship is 
 not in the least likely to be necessary," he said. 
 
 Something in the tone made MacTor spring to 
 his feet. 
 
 " Godsake ! what's this?" he cried, plucking at his 
 red beard. 
 
 " A thing not worth discussing, Mr. MacTor," 
 answered Vincent. "Only I'm glad your shares are 
 going up, as I may possibly realise." 
 
 " Realise ! " gasped MacTor. 
 
 " Realise ! " repeated the Earl. " Why, Vin, what 
 on earth does this mean ? " 
 
 " A man may wish to realise on a rising market," 
 said Vincent, and deftly dismissed the matter.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ONE thing the interview put beyond doubt to 
 the Earl and MacTor, that however foolish or 
 fantastic Vincent's notions might be, his defection 
 was a fact which could not be laughed away. Both 
 felt he had devised a crisis, and was sweeping others 
 with him. 
 
 " It's an ugly business," remarked MacTor, when 
 Vincent and Tapley had gone off, leaving their elders 
 together. 
 
 " A very ugly business," admitted the Earl gloomily. 
 
 " What's to be done about those shares ? " said 
 MacTor. " If he throws them on the market, it'll 
 give us a nasty shake." 
 
 " What's to be done with the whole blessed busi- 
 ness?" demanded the Earl. "It's a strange thing, 
 MacTor, that those who have everything mortal can 
 wish won't be content, but must for ever be after 
 something else, worrying themselves and others." 
 
 " Yes," said MacTor. " But— 
 
 " ' Human bodies are sic fools, 
 For a' tlu'ir colleges and schools, 
 That when nae real ills perplex them, 
 They make enow themselves to vex them.' 
 
 It's Bible truth. Robbie never hit the bull's-eye 
 cleaner in the centre. Now, here's \'incent Twickham 
 has all that a man can covet : wealth, health, youth, 
 position, the loveliest wife in creation — oh, yes, she 
 
 287
 
 288 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 is ! although she's your daughter — in short, the most 
 glorious possessions and prospects, public and private ; 
 and he goes on like a disappointed old maid preparing 
 to make the best of the next world because she's lost 
 her chances in this. I'm dumbfounded — tut! I'm 
 disgusted, — that's what I am ! I thought better things 
 of Vincent. I wonder if his father knows ? Don't 
 you think we ought to find out? Lord Twickham's 
 the man to nip these eccentricities in the bud." 
 
 " Um ! " said the Earl, pursing his mouth. " We 
 must be cautious how we rouse Rhadamanthus. I 
 might mention the thing to him incidentally, as an 
 absurd and incredible rumour which had reached me." 
 
 " Do ; and, for God's sake, be quick," urged Mac- 
 Tor. " I'm not at ease about those shares. You 
 never know what a man that's daft on principle may 
 do. I wouldn't have the Distilleries upset just now 
 for all the principles in the world." 
 
 Scarcely had he done speaking when Tapley re- 
 turned to them, excited and gesticulative, saying that 
 Vincent had gone to his father, and there would be 
 the deuce of a tempest. 
 
 " I tried to prevent him," explained Tapley, — *' to 
 reason with him. But he was as stubborn as ten 
 mules ; couldn't have believed it of him. ' I owe it 
 to my father to tell him all, and at once,' was all I 
 could get out of him. They're together at the office 
 now." 
 
 The Earl whistled ; MacTor stared with a blank 
 face for a minute, then smiled inanely. 
 
 " Well, perhaps on the whole it's best," said the 
 Earl. 
 
 " Perhaps it is," added MacTor dubiously. " I 
 hope they'll take care of those shares between them. 
 It would be devilish to have them thrown on the 
 market just when we're getting ready a ripping 
 balance-sheet."
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 289 
 
 Thrice a week Lord Twickham gave some hours 
 to the city. Knowing it was " city day " with him, 
 Vincent went straight to the Twickham offices to 
 unburden ; but, finding his father engaged with 
 people of importance, he proceeded to his own room. 
 Opening his desk, he drew out some papers ; but the 
 idea of work was the bitterest self-satire. He rang 
 for The Times, but could not fix his mind even on 
 the report of a rival brewery ; so he lay back in his 
 chair staring blindly at the ceiling. What was this 
 that was wrenching his life so suddenly and so 
 cruelly ? It seemed that a thousand electric needles 
 were setting his brain on fire. He could not think, 
 and might have fled in terror of madness, had not 
 the head clerk appeared opportunely to say his lord- 
 ship was disengaged. The man would have shown 
 the coming chief in ; but Vincent preferred to go to 
 judgment alone. 
 
 "Thank you, Binns," he said. "You are busy. 
 Don't trouble." 
 
 On entering the presence, he noted instinctively 
 that his father's face wore an expression of lively 
 satisfaction. Lord Twickham, who was bending 
 closely over some papers, greeted his son cheerily, 
 without looking up. Vincent thanked Heaven for 
 the chance to collect himself. All at once Lord 
 Twickham pushed the papers from him, and swung 
 round. He was smiling, for he had just brought a 
 great scheme to a successful issue, and his heart was 
 beating pasans of joy ; but at sight of his son's face, 
 his smile gave place to a look of startled astonishment. 
 
 " Good gracious, Vin ! what's the matter ? " he cried. 
 "Are you ni?" 
 
 If a man about whom the universe is falling in 
 pieces be ill, then Vincent was very ill indeed, though 
 he strove to appear at ease. 
 
 " No, not at all," he faltered ; " but, if you are 
 
 19
 
 290 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 not busy, I have something important to say to 
 you." 
 
 " Important ! " repeated his lordship. " Portentous, 
 rather, to judge by that face, Vin. Have a glass 
 of wine." 
 
 Vincent gulped the wine, and felt better. 
 
 " Now," said his father, " we will talk. What have 
 you to tell me?" 
 
 " I hardly know how to begin, sir," returned Vincent, 
 in a voice he scarcely knew as his own. " It's about 
 the subject on which we had some conversation once 
 before." 
 
 Lord Twickham pressed an electric button at his 
 desk-side. 
 
 " We are to be engaged for some time," he told the 
 clerk who appeared. " See that no one is admitted." 
 
 Then, turning back to Vincent, " Now tell me all, 
 and don't be flurried." 
 
 "Yes," said Vincent, bracing himself desperately. 
 " I preferred you should hear it from myself, rather 
 than from any one else." 
 
 " Has any one else heard of it, then ? " 
 
 " Well, Gwen and Tom know a little, and I think 
 Wegron and MacTor. That's why I have come 
 direct to you." 
 
 "That's what I should expect of you, though I 
 should prefer no one else in the secret." 
 
 Secret ! the word made Vincent shiver. Great 
 Heavens ! did his father not understand that it was 
 no secret, but a fact, that was already setting tongues 
 wagging ? A secret ! rather a thing to be borne 
 abroad on tempests. 
 
 " You may remember the talk we once had," said 
 Vincent, feeling as if the floor were collapsing. 
 
 Lord Twickham brought the tips of his fingers 
 together, and raised his eyebrows a little as he 
 answered :
 
 Mine on tbe %ccb 291 
 
 " Yes, I remember that my son disapproved of my 
 life-work." 
 
 " Not that, father," cried Vincent, with a sudden 
 pang. " Not that." 
 
 " Not disapproval ? Well, then shall I say my son 
 didn't relish the position to which he had the mis- 
 fortune to be born, though millions envy him ? Let 
 me put it like that. Now I hope he comes to tell me 
 he has changed his mind." 
 
 Vincent's heart thumped so high in his throat that 
 he gasped for breath, and a giddy, sickening sensation 
 came upon him. 
 
 " On that occasion," he managed to get out, " I left 
 you, determined to see with your eyes, and — and I 
 cannot." 
 
 For a moment his lordship stared without winking. 
 
 "You cannot," he said then, "you cannot, and 
 you have come to tell me of your failure ? I will not 
 ask whether the effort was seriously made ; but it 
 is necessary I should know what the confession 
 portends." 
 
 " Father," cried Vincent piteously, " will you force 
 me to go through it all again ? Since that talk with 
 you, I have suffered indescribable agony. God is my 
 witness how I tried to follow your wishes — to blot 
 the thing that displeased you from my mind. But 
 it would not go — or, rather, it went for a little, to 
 return with fourfold force. What I have seen haunts 
 me like a horrible nightmare I" 
 
 " There are many disagreeable things in a world 
 not specially designed for fastidious people. What 
 have you seen ? " 
 
 " Havoc and misery unmentionable," replied 
 Vincent, becoming fluent from sheer desperation. 
 " Homes ruined, children forsaken, and filthy or 
 beaten because they would not take quickly enough 
 to crime ; men and women wallowing in foulness ;
 
 292 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 good living made impossible ; the sick and dying 
 laid where you would not put your dog, — the whole 
 an inferno past imagination, and, worst of all, father, 
 worst of all, was the conviction that three-fourths of 
 the appalling tragedies were due to strong drink ! " 
 
 " Did you go in search of all those things ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I tried to shut my eyes to them ; 
 but they were forced upon me." 
 
 "Ah !— by whom or what ? " 
 
 " By what I have told you and a great deal more 
 that I couldn't tell you, — by what goes on daily and 
 nightly in the hells of London. I had no idea such 
 things existed ; I could not conceive that our riches 
 were the harvest of ruin and shame and misery." 
 
 " Vin," answered his father slowly, " you have done 
 what none before you ever succeeded in doing : you 
 have made me sorry for myself. Think of that in 
 time to come. When you were announced, I had just 
 put the last touch to one of the biggest schemes ever 
 devised in connection with the Brewery. Not 
 dreaming of the results of my evil deeds, I saw my son 
 and my son's son in the far future carr}'ing out my 
 plans, and I fancied them praising my foresight. Now 
 mark the fitness and timeliness of the reproof. In 
 the moment of my triumph the son who was all my 
 hope steps in to rap me over the knuckles and shiver 
 my fool's paradise to atoms. If a man wants to lay 
 up disappointment for himself, he will give his days 
 and nights to schemes and plans for others. Ironic 
 fortune will see he is requited." 
 
 Vincent was dumb. There swept upon him a 
 tingling shame for himself — a thrilling pity for the 
 strong man suffering so acutely. He was sorry, not 
 so much because of what his father said, as what he 
 looked and what he was. In all such contests the 
 personality's the thing ; and Lord Twickham's 
 personality bore all before it. Had Vincent obeyed
 
 Mine on tbe Xces 293 
 
 his feelings he would have yielded unconditionally, 
 begged to be forgiven, and promised never to speak 
 of the subject again. But a fire had been kindled in 
 his heart which would not be quenched ; it burned 
 even in that moment of trial and rebuke. Lord 
 Twickham did not understand a quickened conscience, 
 and could not therefore appreciate the scruples of his 
 son. He would never have allowed his honour to be 
 impugned ; but he would have trampled mercilessly 
 on the quixotism which hesitated in matters upheld 
 by law and approved by all the codes of honourable 
 men. Vincent, on the other hand, told himself his 
 father did not know, could not know, the havoc, worse 
 than pestilence or death, wrought by drink. 
 
 " Oh, sir ! you don't know what it is as I do," he 
 cried, recovering his speech. 
 
 Lord Twickham laughed bitterly. 
 
 "No," he admitted, " probably not. I'm sixty-five 
 and you're not yet half that age. 1 devoted my life to 
 the rearing of a fabric which has moved some men to 
 envy and many to admiration. Coming to it with a 
 discernment and knowledge beyond experience, you 
 are able to condemn offhand. For forty years I have 
 been aware that multitudes drink more than is good 
 for them ; but it never occurred to me I was 
 responsible for their folly. You, studying the matter 
 for forty weeks, open my eyes and correct my error. 
 I congratulate you on your acutencss, even if it be 
 displayed at the cost of filial feeling." 
 
 Vincent shrank as if the lash were upon his 
 bare shoulders ; and, indeed, lash never cut so keenly 
 through quivering flesh as his father's words through 
 Vincent's soul. 
 
 " I beg of you not to take that view," he pleaded. 
 
 " I don't see how I am to avoid it," returned his 
 father. " You see, 1 make and sell more beer than 
 any other man living. You tell me beer is a great
 
 294 xmiine on tbe Xees 
 
 destroyer ; therefore I am the most reprehensible of 
 the many monsters engaged in the ruin and degrada- 
 tion of the people. But we shall gain nothing by 
 going over that ground. The question is, What are 
 you to do ? " 
 
 To that question Vincent had no coherent answer. 
 He had thought vaguely of legislation, that most 
 futile of expedients for benefiting a people, and, 
 suddenly pressed, blurted out his crude thoughts. 
 
 " Induce Parliament to abolish public-houses ! " said 
 Lord Twickham, his voice rising and his face 
 hardening. " Go to your party leaders and ask their 
 minds on it. Bah ! the Government would not last a 
 week that so much as proposed to tamper with the 
 public-houses ! I think you have overlooked one 
 element in the case, that the supply of beer merely 
 answers the demand. The people want beer, and get 
 it. If you don't supply it, somebody else will ; and 
 where's the benefit ? " 
 
 " A reasonable supply rationally used," Vincent 
 was saying, when his father broke in impatiently. 
 
 "You talk of reason where men's tastes and 
 appetites are concerned. That implies gross ignor- 
 ance of the world." 
 
 " What fills me with horror," rejoined Vincent, 
 " is the manner in which drink is pressed upon 
 people who would be better without it. You know 
 better than I the thousand and one devices employed 
 in tempting drinkers to their ruin. At every corner 
 stands the public-house flaring the latest lure. You 
 tell me the foolish have themselves to blame ; but, 
 father, are we right in taking advantage of their 
 folly to enrich ourselves by ruining them ? " 
 
 He spoke quickly and excitedly, drops of sweat 
 standing on his forehead. 
 
 " I was not bred a casuist," answered Lord 
 Twickham shortly. " 15 ut suppose you throw me
 
 Wiinc on tbe Xees 295 
 
 overboard and take the drink traffic in hand, have 
 you calculated the cost ? " 
 
 " I have been too perturbed to go into particulars," 
 replied Vincent. 
 
 " I would count the cost if I were you," said his 
 lordship. "It is always well to see whether the 
 game is worth the candle, to observe some proportion 
 between effort and aim." 
 
 He unlocked a private drawer in his desk, and 
 drew forth a note-book. 
 
 " Your share in the evil is more than nominal," 
 he remarked, consulting it. " And the cost might 
 surprise you. In addition to the shares in the 
 Brewery, I find you hold a quarter of a million in 
 the MacTor Distilleries Company." 
 
 " And those I intend to sell," said Vincent. 
 
 Lord Twickham put the book back in its place 
 and locked the drawer. Then he rose, the look of 
 the angry Titan in his face. 
 
 " It's out of my power to prevent you from being 
 foolish," he said, looking down on Vincerit. " But 
 I will not permit you to destroy or impair any con- 
 cern in which I am interested. If you were fifteen 
 years younger, I would cane this nonsense out of 
 you, if the hide came with it. As you're a man, 
 I cannot well do that. But there is something I 
 can do, and that is to keep you from tampering 
 with properties which you never helped to create, 
 and apparently are unable to appreciate. Mark 
 me ! you are to hold your hand at that. I began 
 my work when I was young ; and now that I am 
 old, so long as it pleases God to spare me, I will 
 go on. If you will not help me (and I think I can 
 do without you), all I ask is that you do not wantonly 
 raise your hand against me, not because I fear it, but 
 for the sake of decency. I am ignorant of your plans, 
 for you do not honour me with your confidence."
 
 296 Mine on tbc Xees 
 
 " Oh, father ! " cried Vincent, his face streaming, 
 " I have no plans beyond a wish to refrain from 
 violating my conscience." 
 
 "That means you cannot take any active part 
 in the work of the Brewery. Very well. I will see 
 that your name is erased from the list of directors. 
 And I may add that when you want to sell your 
 shares, a buyer will be ready for them."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SCARCELY was the interview ended, and Vincent 
 once more shut in his own room trying to recon- 
 struct his universe, when Lord Twickham telephoned 
 for his broker. Promptly as responds the world to 
 the call of the great, the man of speculation arrived. 
 
 A person of fashion and figure, the first impression 
 he produced was that of being an exceeding credit 
 to his tailor. But nothing could be more egregiously 
 wrong than to mistake him for a common dandy. 
 He dressed well, partly because he liked dress, but 
 chiefly because millionaires, who alone can afford to 
 neglect fashion, like to see a distinction made between 
 themselves and their agents. Even in his attire he 
 had an eye to business. His name on 'Change was 
 great, for it was said that what he did not know about 
 speculative finance was certainly not worth knowing ; 
 and he was the confidant, which is much more than 
 being the friend, of lords and plutocrats. Therefore 
 what was confided to his ear lodged there. He 
 was the very last man to whom, under vows of 
 secrecy, one would impart the secret that was to be 
 blazed abroad. He had Lord Twickham's entire 
 confidence, which was worth thousands a year. 
 
 " I wanted to see you at once on rather important 
 business," explained his lordship ; " that is why I 
 sent for you instead of writing. I must tell you that 
 my son has got some inexplicable idea into his head 
 about the evils of drink." 
 
 297
 
 298 TKHine on tbe Xees 
 
 " A temporary delusion, my lord," suggested the 
 broker softly. "The young and ardent are subject 
 to such things." 
 
 " Yes, exactly. They come like teething and the 
 measles ; but until Vincent gets over the trouble, 
 one can't be sure what may or may not happen. At 
 present he speaks of relinquishing his part in the 
 Brewery and the MacTor Distilleries Company." 
 
 The broker gently hinted that such folly was 
 indeed inexplicable. 
 
 " That, you know," continued Lord Twickham, 
 " may mean some shuffling of the cards. A man 
 suffering from a fit of conscience is like a man in the 
 delirium of fever — hardly responsible for his actions. 
 My son, as you may remember, holds a considerable 
 number of both Brewery and Distillery shares. Now, 
 what 1 wished to see you about was to instruct you 
 to buy instantly on my account any shares which 
 may be offered in either company, in blocks of two 
 hundred or over — less will not matter." 
 
 " Will your lordship give me written instructions ? " 
 asked the broker. 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 And thereupon the order was written. 
 
 The broker dismissed. Lord Twickham sent for 
 MacTor, disappointing several callers who were wait- 
 ing for a word in his ear. MacTor responded with 
 the alacrity to which financial considerations inspire 
 saint and sinner alike. The Earl of Wegron accom- 
 panied him, and for family reasons was admitted. On 
 entering, they instantly divined from Lord Twickham's 
 set face that a battle had been fought. How the 
 issue went they could only guess. 
 
 " Well," said Lord Twickham, when the hasty, 
 constrained greetings were over, "this is a pretty 
 business, isn't it ? " 
 
 " You refer to Vincent," said the Earl, feeling
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 299 
 
 almost for the first time in his Hfc what nerves and 
 emotion meant. 
 
 " Yes, 1 refer to Vincent. You know, of course, 
 what has happened ? " 
 
 " Dimly," rejoined the Earl — " very dimly and 
 imperfectly. He had luncheon with us to-day, 
 and the subject came up ; but he declined to dis- 
 cuss it." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Lord Twickham, secretly pleased that 
 Vincent had not babbled ; " I suppose he thought it 
 best to bowl me over first. There are many things 
 besides charity which begin at home. Well, it 
 devolves on me to announce my son's decision. I 
 regret to say he is dissatisfied with us." 
 
 MacTor turned as pale as was possible for one 
 with so much old port in the blood. 
 
 " God bless my soul ! what can possess him ? " he 
 cried. 
 
 " I think you can guess," answered Lord Twickham. 
 
 " That little devil of perversity men call conscience," 
 put in the Earl — "that's what possesses him. It's 
 a little devil that grows insolent with pampering — 
 insolent and censorious. When men's conscience 
 hangs about the neck of their heart, as the saying is, 
 they're in a bad way. By Heaven ! I think the play- 
 actor was right when he said it makes cowards of 
 us all." 
 
 " The play-actor's truths don't help us much at 
 present," remarked MacTor ruefully. " What I can't 
 make out is how Vincent has gone astray." 
 
 " It's my fault," said Lord Twickham. 
 
 " Your fault ! " cried the others together. 
 
 " Yes. You may remember that one day at 
 luncheon in the country the doings of that rake 
 Goodman formed the topic of conversation. His 
 wife was an old servant of ours, and Lady Twickham 
 pitied her. For her sake Tom and Vin were de-
 
 300 Mine on tbc Xecs 
 
 spatched to play the Good Samaritan, and all the 
 rest flowed from the incident. It looks," addressing 
 MacTor, " as if destiny were catching us in our own 
 gin." 
 
 " Destiny's the cruellest thing in existence, as I 
 know to my cost," said the Earl emphatically. " But 
 I fail to see why Vin should turn sentimental in 
 matters of business, — the world would soon go to 
 smash on that basis." 
 
 " I would not have you judge him too harshly," 
 returned Lord Twickham, smiling faintly. " I see 
 the reason, though I cannot admit its validity. With- 
 out consulting me, he went to the slums, poor boy, 
 for weapons to overthrow our assailants. Had I 
 suspected such a thing he should never have paid 
 them the compliment. But he went, and he saw 
 more than was good for him. We all know there are 
 elements in the drink traffic which must shock a 
 sensitive mind. MacTor and I must shut our eyes 
 and drive ahead, regardless of the unpleasant things 
 by the way. We cannot afford to stay because our 
 wheels happen to be deep in mud. But even we 
 feel sometimes that the mud is very deep and very 
 dirty and slimy. It was too deep and dirty for 
 Vincent, because he came to it in his green state. 
 He has not yet realised that such things must be ; 
 his instincts are fresh. Let's be just, and own his 
 motives are pure. His fault is to harbour a conven- 
 tional morality, a morality which would make earth 
 an Eden if all men were wise and strong and pure 
 and continent. They are not, and never will be ; 
 consequently mere conventional morality is like 
 water in a sieve. Other duties are put upon men, 
 and my own plan has been to pursue my own 
 ends in my own way on my own responsibility. 
 I take the risks. Vincent needs hardening, — that 
 is all."
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 301 
 
 " It's unfortunate his scruples should get the upper 
 hand just at this juncture," said MacTor, thinking 
 tremulously of the shares. " They may do sub- 
 stantial harm." 
 
 " Don't be disturbed on that account," returned 
 Lord Twickham ; " I have taken the necessary steps 
 to protect our interests. I may tell you that every 
 share which Vincent sells (supposing he sells any) 
 shall be bought at market price ; therefore you need 
 not fear a slump." 
 
 MacTor could have embraced his lordship. So 
 long as the Distilleries were safe fools might practise 
 folly to their hearts' content. 
 
 " Our material interests are secure, I think," pursued 
 Lord Twickham. " What will suffer are a father's 
 feelings, and they are not quoted on 'Change. Well, 
 let them take such doctoring as events prescribe. 
 Meantime, you will do me the favour to keep this 
 matter as quiet as may be." 
 
 " Certainly," said the Earl. 
 
 " Certainly," echoed MacTor. " Vincent's probably 
 not beyond reason yet, and the Brewery and Dis- 
 tilleries are safe." 
 
 Lord Twickham bowed. 
 
 " Absolutely," he said—" absolutely ! " 
 
 Almost as these words were spoken, Vincent passed 
 with an uncertain step through the main office to 
 the street door. 
 
 " His lordship has the Earl of Wegron and Mr. 
 MacTor with him, sir," explained the faithful Binns. 
 " Perhaps you would like to go in, sir ? " 
 
 Vincent paused a moment, a fierce desire to rush 
 in and overwhelm them in their sophistries rising 
 within him ; but he crushed it down. 
 
 "Not now, Binns, thank you," he answered, mov- 
 ing on. 
 
 At the door he hailed a hansom, and next
 
 302 Wiinc on tbe Xees 
 
 moment was swallowed in the stream of London's 
 traffic. 
 
 " I don't know what's up," said Binns confidentially 
 to his assistant ; " but something's the matter. You 
 should have seen his face as he went out. Take my 
 word for it, something's happened."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 HISTORY records but a single instance of con- 
 science undeviatingly followed, and the straight 
 line ends in a cross. Common men waver and 
 deflect, beat about and tack, often foundering in the 
 clashing currents of the world. Vincent was only 
 human, with all the human weakness of divided love 
 and defective vision and frailty of purpose. In 
 paining his father he lacerated himself, and his 
 anguish was a kind of frenzy. As he whirled along, 
 neither seeing nor hearing the surge and din of 
 London's traffic, a raging remorse burned in his 
 heart. What was he to set himself against his father, 
 the man whom the whole world honoured for probity, 
 admired for energy and fixity of purpose? Nothing, 
 less than nothing. Certainly vanity or self-sufficiency 
 had no part in Vincent's thoughts. If by some great 
 deed, some unheard-of sacrifice, it were possible to 
 prove his loyalty, he would have leaped at the 
 chance ; but mere renunciation, misunderstood and 
 contemned — what was it? In that moment of dis- 
 traction the most pitiful of all pitiful things. 
 
 And yet, so complex is man, he had before him, 
 in that very instant, harrowing pictures of pollution 
 and squalor and iniquity ; and there sounded in his 
 ears, in sullen undertones of thunder, the hoarse, 
 stifled cries of the wretches out of whose ruin, moral 
 and material, he made his wealth. Great God ! was 
 it so ? Could it be that he, or any one dear to him, 
 
 303
 
 304 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 could be the devil's instrument in this wholesale 
 destruction of humanity ? He shrank, gasping, as 
 if his gold poured upon him in a molten stream. 
 
 All at once the cab stopped, and he was startled 
 by a voice from above. Looking up, he saw a pair 
 of bloodshot eyes in a bloated countenance peering 
 intently at him. The purple face, set in the black 
 frame, appeared menacing and malignant, though its 
 owner was politely, if huskily, asking for further 
 directions. On engaging the cab, Vincent had said 
 " Charing Cross," with no reason for going there. 
 Recovering himself, he now said " Piccadilly." The 
 face disappeared, and the cab went on. At Piccadilly 
 Circus he dismissed it, and walked to his club — the 
 experiences of that midnight when Tapley and 
 Goodman and he were gaily in quest of knowledge 
 rising to his mind. How much had happened since 
 then ! They had got knowledge, at least he had, and 
 never had he found anything half so bitter. 
 
 In the club he ran through the comic papers, 
 flinging one after another aside in disgust. The 
 jokes were meaningless ; the pictures silly or blas- 
 phemous. Life was not an idle jest, in spite of the 
 buffoon and the caricaturist. The Master of Life 
 never jests, and though His tolerance is unexampled, 
 it is not quite inexhaustible ; and the poor little 
 Merry Andrew, the grinning ape of quips and cranks, 
 is quietly snuffed out at last. Though blessed with 
 a native relish of humour, Vincent turned from the 
 woeful pleasantries as from sickening sweetmeats. 
 
 With the serious papers he fared no better. Of 
 what interest or concern, to one tortured by eternal 
 realities, were those canting party " leaders," those 
 long, frothy columns about the nothings of to-day, 
 which would so speedily give place to the nothings 
 of to-morrow, and these in turn to the endless nothings 
 which would follow ?
 
 "Mine on tbe Xees 305 
 
 To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow ; brief 
 candle lighting the way to dusty death ; walking 
 shadow ; poor player strutting and fretting his hour — 
 and then heard no more. Strange thoughts for a 
 fashionable club-room ! 
 
 Rising like a man from distempered dreams, Vincent 
 strode out, exchanging absent-minded salutations 
 with friends, who looked a second time at his white 
 face. He would have a game of billiards. To 
 billiards he must give an undivided attention, and so 
 snatch a moment's ease from his torment. But he 
 handled the cue as he read the newspapers, with 
 dancing nerves and a mind distraught. 
 
 His opponent, being greatly his inferior in skill, 
 expected to lose, and, amazed at winning by long 
 odds, wanted to know " what was up." The greenest 
 tyro, indeed, might have beaten Vincent ; for his 
 hand trembled so that he missed unmissable strokes, 
 sometimes missed the balls entirely. That made him 
 reckless, and he signalised his inability by tearing 
 the cloth. 
 
 " No use," he said, trying to laugh. " The gods of 
 billiards have forsaken me " ; and paid the reckoning. 
 
 Finding no rest in the club, he turned once more 
 into the street, with no idea whither to go. Standing 
 irresolute at the door, he was assailed by cries of 
 " Keb, sir, keb ? " 
 
 " All right," he said to the nearest crier ; and gave 
 Ingledew's address, with instructions to drive fast. 
 If only he had wings, or were like the lightning, he 
 might get away from his troubles. Twice he re- 
 monstrated with the driver for crawling, though more 
 than one zealous constable thought of a summons 
 for furious driving. 
 
 " Gent looks as if 'e'd bin 'avin' a drop extry at 
 arternoon tea," chuckled the cabman, in expectation 
 of being able to extort a double fare. 
 
 20
 
 3o6 Mine on tbe Xeesi 
 
 Ingledew was found, poring in a chastened spirit 
 over a battered classic, retained none knew how. 
 
 " These old chaps are so serene and restful," he 
 explained apologetically ; " they present so complete 
 and refreshing a contrast to our flurried existence." 
 
 " Do they ? Oh yes, of course they do," returned 
 Vincent, who would at that moment have paid any 
 price for serenity and restfulness. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," pursued Ingledew, glad that the 
 subject interested his patron. " You see it's Plato," 
 holding up the book. " It may surprise you to hear 
 I once showed an aptitude for philosophy, and Plato's 
 the king — fallen at present on strange company, 
 you'll think. I have just been reading a passage 
 about the pleasures of memory, and a seraphic account 
 of the loveliness of wisdom. It almost makes one 
 long to be wise. It is very sweet." 
 
 '• I daresay," said Vincent, with a dry mouth. 
 
 " Yes, very sweet," added Ingledew. " Yet let 
 none imagine that Plato is all honey and sunshine. 
 May I read you this — as a sort of penance ? Thank 
 you. I assure you it cuts like a Damascus blade." 
 
 And he read : — 
 
 " ' This is the justice of Heaven, which neither you 
 nor any unfortunate will ever glory in escaping, and 
 which the ordaining powers have specially ordained. 
 Take heed tJierefore, for it will be sure to take heed 
 of you. If you say I am small and will creep into the 
 depths of the Earth, or I am high and will fly to 
 Heaven, you are not so small or so high but that you 
 shall pay the penalty.' 
 
 " That gave me a nasty sensation. Oh dear me, 
 Mr. Twickham, how pale you are ! " 
 
 " Am I ? " replied Vincent, feeling that his pallor 
 was deathly. " I have been warm, and have perhaps 
 cooled rather quickly. It's nothing." 
 
 " You are really very pale," persisted Ingledew.
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 307 
 
 " I have just a drop of what the doctor allows me. 
 Permit me to share it with you." 
 
 Running to a cupboard, he produced a small 
 bottle. 
 
 " You see it's but a drop," he said, holding it up 
 to the light. 
 
 " Like Mercutio's wound, 'tis enough," replied 
 Vincent, smiling. " If you please, I will help myself." 
 He poured out the third of a glass of MacTor's best, 
 and drank it. " There, that will bring the blood 
 back," he said, with a wry mouth. 
 
 " It's not worth putting back," said Ingledew 
 wistfully, again holding the bottle against the light. 
 " Mr. Twickham, I drink to your happiness." 
 
 " Well, I must be off," was the abrupt response. 
 " I'm glad to find we're getting along so nicely, as 
 the doctors say. Accept that for current expenses," 
 laying two sovereigns on the mantelpiece. 
 
 " As a loan," returned Ingledew, an expression of 
 pain in his face. " A loan, mind you, Mr. Twickham, 
 and nothing more. I have demeaned myself in 
 numberless ways ; but, please God, I will pull together 
 and repay. It's a loan." 
 
 " A loan, of course, old fellow," said Vincent. " God 
 knows when the best of us may be in a strait. You 
 would help me at a pinch, wouldn't you ? " 
 
 " With my life," answered Ingledew quickly, " with 
 my very life. Mr. Twickham, I think I could pray 
 you might one day need help." 
 
 " That were unkind of you," was the rejoinder, 
 
 " Don't misunderstand me," said Ingledew im- 
 pressively. " I am wretched, but I am not ungrateful. 
 No one ever thought of doing what you have done 
 except my poor mother, and, may the Great Judge 
 pardon me, I broke her heart — killed her ! Oh ! her 
 death is on my head as clearly as if I actually shed 
 her blood."
 
 3o8 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 "We won't talk of that," said Vincent. "It's 
 useless recalling unpleasant memories." 
 
 "Ah!" cried Ingledew tragically, "they recall 
 themselves. They are like vipers which secretly 
 coil about the heart, and sting and sting in the dead 
 of night till you think you must go mad. As we 
 make our bed, so we must lie on it, says the proverb. 
 Pah ! that is nothing. The Greeks were right about 
 Nemesis. That grisly huntress of souls dogs the 
 steps of every man, watching to see him trip or 
 commit himself. When he does she is upon him, 
 and down he goes to Hell. I have been there — and 
 Dante hasn't." 
 
 " You believe in Nemesis ? " said Vincent quietly. 
 
 " Shall a man doubt when his hand is burned or 
 his heart torn ? " was the response. " As we sow, so 
 shall we reap. My God ! it is terrible, terrible ! " 
 
 Vincent bowed his head. 
 
 " Terrible ! " he repeated, almost inaudibly. But 
 the next moment his head was erect and his face 
 alight. 
 
 " You forget the compensations," he cried, " you 
 forget the compensations. What would you have 
 but to reap as you sow? Would you sow wheat 
 and reap tares? God does not disappoint in that 
 way." 
 
 Ingledew was prepared for an argument, but 
 Vincent was not to be detained. With the great 
 text ringing in his head he went off: 
 
 " Whatsoever a )nan soweth, that also shall he reap." 
 
 " Thank God for that," he said in his heart. 
 " Thank God for that."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 FROM Ingledew's quarters he went direct to 
 Paradise Court, again instructing his cabman 
 to drive fast. But the pendukim had swung back, 
 and the tumult within was now a madness of 
 exaltation. 
 
 " Whatsoever a man soweth, that also shall he 
 reap," he repeated, his heart rising in a kind of 
 lyric ecstasy, so that streets and people became 
 phantasmally unreal, or rather, vanished from his 
 consciousness altogether. The stoppage of the cab 
 recalled him to earth. 
 
 " How much ? " he asked, on stepping out. 
 
 To the experienced eye regarding him from above, 
 he seemed a pliant, agreeable person, so the owner 
 added a hundred and fifty per cent, to the legal 
 fare, and grinned benignly on being paid without 
 a murmur. 
 
 " Wish I 'ad more of the same sort," thought 
 cabby, turning to go. 
 
 As he groped his way up the dark stair to Dick's 
 aerial chamber, Vincent's nostrils were tickled by a 
 savoury odour of cooking meat. On a landing half- 
 way up a boy stood sniffing enviously, and far in 
 the dusky remoteness there was a glint of white, as 
 Loo darted to alarm the garrison. Jenny, curtseying 
 profoundly, welcomed Vincent at the threshold. If 
 Jenny possessed cloth of gold, she would have spread 
 it every inch for him as a carpet. 
 
 309
 
 310 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Are you alone, sir?" she asked, looking into the 
 twilight dimness below for Tapley. 
 
 " Quite alone, Mrs. Goodman," he answered. " I 
 have come to see your husband by myself." 
 
 Entering, he found Dick vigorously engaged upon 
 an underdone beef-steak — the doctor having that 
 morning rescinded the injunction against high living 
 — and congratulated him on his prosperous condition. 
 
 " Thank 'e, sir," said Dick, wiping his mouth and 
 drawing his sleeve across the swollen veins of his 
 forehead. " Doctor's orders do make a cove peckish. 
 Don't mind, sir, my attendin' to business?" 
 
 " Business by all means," returned Vincent, smiling. 
 " Go ahead." 
 
 Jenny, who but half an hour before came in with 
 the steak, was still " tidied up," as if for an errand ; 
 and, indeed, she presently went out again, taking Loo 
 with her, to visit a sick woman somewhere in the 
 lower regions. It was, in fact, the crone who had 
 once cursed her with all the curses of Paradise Court, 
 and now lay dying in dire hardship. Jenny referred 
 feelingly to the old woman's plight, and would have 
 given an account of the case from the feminine point 
 of view, had not a glance from her husband warned 
 her of the bad taste of such a thing. So she curtseyed 
 and went. 
 
 " You mustn't mind 'cr, sir," said Dick, when the 
 sound of her descending footsteps died away. " I 
 never did see 'er ekil for takin' on 'bout things. 
 Seems to me she could do the worryin' for a whole 
 bloomin' street. There's alius sunthin' a-troublin' 'er. 
 Now she goes off to see if she can't keep an ole woman 
 from dyin' — yes, sir, an olc mug as once went for 'er 
 till she cried. I ain't like that. Them as kicks me 'ad 
 better look out for their shins. That's my plan." 
 
 Vincent reminded him of the Scriptural injunction 
 to return good for evil, and love our enemies.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 3" 
 
 " Love our enemies," said Dick, with a vicious cut 
 at the steak. " Mighty fine, when ye ain't got 
 nuthin' to forgive. Wonder 'ovv many does it when 
 their toes is tramped on ? 'Minds me of our ole 
 Scotch chaplain. One night 'e'd be tellin' us to love 
 our enemies same as you, an' next mornin' we'd be 
 off to fight 'em, with 'im prayin' Gawd to 'elp us 
 to smash 'em up. Queer kind o' religion, sir." 
 
 Vincent owned the fairness of the deduction ; but 
 persisted in thinking Jenny deserved praise, not blame, 
 for her efforts to ease the last moments of a departing 
 sinner. 
 
 " I believe it's one of the things she'll never regret," 
 he said. 
 
 " P'r'aps not," responded Dick dubiously. " But I 
 once let a man go without a wallopin' when 'e 
 deserved it, an' I ain't forgiven myself yet. There's 
 some things as it's a man's dooty to do, an' when 'e 
 don't do 'em 'e's sorry for ever arter. I'm sorry 'cos 
 that man's twelve foot under ground, an' I can never 
 'ave another chance. I'll tell you something, sir." 
 
 And with a comical look he imparted a secret 
 which made Vincent stare. The half-raw beef-steak, 
 it appeared, marked the initiation of a plan for the 
 total and ignominious discomfiture of Velvet Chick 
 and his satellites of the Ruggler Den. 
 
 "Just give me three weeks of this," said Dick, 
 nodding over his plate, " an' see wot 'appens." 
 
 " But you're not going to fight again," protested 
 Vincent. 
 
 " P'r'aps not," returned Dick. "Likely I'm goin' to 
 take Velvet Chick's sauce lyin' down. It's to be 
 ' Please walk over me, Mr. Chick, an' never mind my 
 feclin's ; I'm the meekest cuss you ever seed.' " 
 
 He laughed satirically. 
 
 " Listen, sir. With enough beef-steak an' a bit 
 practice o' nights, if I don't pepper that crew
 
 312 "Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 blind the doctor can draw my teeth an' feed me 
 on pap." 
 
 " You remember what Lord Tapley said." 
 
 " Wot did 'e say, sir ? " 
 
 " Why, that if you fought Velvet Chick again he'd 
 be attending your funeral." 
 
 " That was boozed," said Dick, giving his mouth 
 a wipe and pushing away the empty plate. " That 
 was if I was boozed. 1 reckon Tottie ain't just the 
 man to whoop if t'other thing 'appened. I ain't afraid 
 of Chick, though I once was. I've faced the guns 
 o' that 'ere enemy as we should love, walked right 
 up to 'em when they were blazin' away 'otter than 
 ever Velvet Chick's fists could go. Sometimes I 
 wonder 'ow I've lasted so long, an' death gettin' so 
 many chances at me. Gawd alive," he cried, his 
 mind aflame as it reverted to the past, " the 'caps 
 an' 'caps of men I've seen dyin', good men too, an' 
 me left to dance the bally out ! " 
 
 " It must be a terrible thing to see men dying," 
 said Vincent, shrinking gruesomely at the thought. 
 
 " Don't know as it is particular," answered Dick. 
 " It makes you feel a bit queer at first, p'r'aps, to see 
 yer chums spin on their 'eel an' throw up their 'ands 
 an' drop groanin' an' 'ollerin' ; but ye see you want 
 to get at them as does the shootin', an' that saves 
 the feelin's. As to the actool dyin', why, that's done 
 quiet enough." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Vincent, feeling his flesh 
 creep. " Goodman, have you ever thought what 
 comes after ? " 
 
 " Arter wot, sir ? " 
 
 " After death." 
 
 " The Scotch chaplain uster bum about it, not as 
 I could ever foUer 'im quite. It's wot comes before 
 death that gets me on toast. 'Ullo, Loo ! " 
 
 The child, lighter of foot than her mother, had
 
 Wine on tbe Xees 313 
 
 bounded in upon them ; Jenny followed presently, 
 her face very white. 
 
 " 'Ow's the ole woman ? " asked Dick. 
 
 " Dead," replied Jenny, turning away. "Dead." 
 
 " Drunk last night," said the philosophic Dick, 
 " dead this mornin', dumped in the black 'ole to- 
 morrow ; that's 'ow the world goes, sir. A suppose 
 our time's comin'." 
 
 Vincent rose suddenly to go. 
 
 " Pray we be ready," he said, and hurried away.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 AT dinner that evening Vincent talked with 
 resolute gaiety ; but when he left the table, 
 having eaten little and scarcely touched wine, he 
 was glad to escape alone to the library. Throwing 
 himself limply into a chair, he looked unseeingly 
 round the book-lined walls, the forced mirth passing 
 in a tragic sigh. 
 
 Save for the solemn ticking of a clock on the 
 mantelpiece the hush of death was on the room. 
 But the sweet influences of the sanctuary were 
 not upon Vincent. The subject which would not 
 give him peace burned, an incandescent point in his 
 mind. He thought of his father's sore disappoint- 
 ment, of his mother's startled eyes, of the amazement 
 of his friends, then of the tragedies he had seen ; 
 and he buried his face in his hands, groaning aloud. 
 While he was thus bent, the door opened noiselessly, 
 and his mother stole in on tip-toe. Hearing the 
 slight rustle of her dress, he looked up, and rose 
 to meet her, trying his best to smile. Without a 
 word of greeting she ran forward, and kissed him 
 passionately on the check. 
 
 " I have heard," she whispered. " I have heard," 
 
 The room and all that was in it seemed to reel 
 about him. 
 
 " You have heard ? " he responded hoarsely. 
 
 " Yes, dear, I have heard." 
 314
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 3^5 
 
 His dry mouth crackled, and it appeared to himself 
 he was suffocating. 
 
 " What does father say ? " he managed to get out. 
 
 " Sit down, dear, and I will tell you. You are 
 troubled. There ! " 
 
 He obeyed, and she sat on the arm of the low 
 easy-chair beside him, her hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " Tell me, is he very angry ? " he said, looking 
 up pitifully. 
 
 " Not angry, dear," she answered softly ; " only 
 sorry." 
 
 An exquisite anguish wrung Vincent's features. 
 
 " And you, mother, are you sorry too ? Don't hide 
 the truth, whatever you do." 
 
 For answer she took his head in both her hands, 
 pressing gently on the temples, which she could feel 
 throbbing. 
 
 " My poor boy, how hot your head is ! " she said. 
 " You are working yourself into a fever." 
 
 "It burns like a furnace," he replied. " But that's 
 nothing. Mother, are you sorry ? " 
 
 He gripped her hand as in a vice, crushing the 
 rings so that they cut ; but she shut her lips to stifle 
 the gasp of pain. She would hardly have protested 
 had her fingers been cut to the bone. 
 
 "Are you sorry, mother?" he repeated. "Tell 
 me that." 
 
 " I cannot but be sorry when anything divides my 
 son and his father," she answered in a low voice. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! But the cause," he cried, " the cause ! " 
 
 He was looking into her eyes as if his eternal 
 salvation depended on her reply. They were filling 
 with tears, and the sight maddened him. 
 
 " You understand," he went on, his voice rising 
 in supplication. " Oh, mother, tell me you at least 
 understand." 
 
 Will not the mother who bore him understand a
 
 3i6 Mine on the Xees 
 
 man ? Yes, she understood, and sympathised, and 
 pitied. 
 
 " I understand, darling," she murmured, clasping him 
 round the neck, " I understand." 
 
 "Thank God!" he gasped, "thank God!" and 
 fell back, as one relieved of great pain. 
 
 " I wish I could help distressing you in this way," 
 he went on presently, unconsciously patting her cheek. 
 " Mother dear, you know I would give my life for 
 you ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear, I know." 
 
 " And for father, though I vex him so much. I 
 know he is deeply pained." 
 
 " He has only one son left, dear," came from 
 trembling lips. " He has only you, Vin." 
 
 The tears which she tried to keep back, gushed in 
 spite of her ; but she held up bravely. " Think what 
 it is, dear, to have but one son, and he disappointing 
 the hopes built on him. Fate could scarcely wound 
 with a keener arrow than that." 
 
 " It's keenest for me," he cried, leaping to his feet. 
 " It's keenest for me. I would do anything to please 
 my father, or to save him an instant's pain. God 
 knows I would. I have tried with all my might to 
 drive what I saw and heard from my mind. But 
 I cannot, I cannot. Oh, mother, think what it is 
 to be growing rich upon the crime and misery of 
 blinded victims ! We call them foolish, and use their 
 folly in sending them to ruin and destruction — because 
 it pays. Such things must carry a curse. I wish 
 it were not so ; but I feel, and the feeling grows 
 stronger, the more I sec, that the drink traffic is a 
 traffic in souls. Mother, it is awful ! " 
 
 Going up to him, she gently took his arm. 
 
 "Don't agitate yourself so, dear," .she said; "we 
 will talk of it again. Perhaps we may find a way 
 out. There, some one is coming."
 
 "Mine on tbe Xees 3^7 
 
 As the words were spoken the door opened, and 
 Lady Gwendoline walked in. She understood the 
 situation at a glance. 
 
 " What ! " she cried, in a tone of bantering rebuke, 
 " worrying about that horrid old subject again ? 
 Really and truly, Vin, you mustn't be such a donkey." 
 
 Vincent affected to laugh playfully. 
 
 " Nothing like a downright compliment to shake 
 the foolishness out of a man," he responded. " But 
 we weren't worrying, Gwennie." 
 
 " Glad to hear it," she rejoined. " Mightn't we 
 have some music or cards or something ? This 
 place " — glancing round — " always oppresses me. The 
 spirits of the great dead are not gay company. 
 Come ! "
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 ALL the pressure of which a roused and scan- 
 dalised Society is capable — and it is immense — 
 was forthwith put upon Vincent. Of his friends, 
 a few, the Earl of Wegron, Tapley, and MacTor 
 among them, condescended to reason with him. Of 
 the rest, some cajoled, some censured, and others 
 ridiculed. At Lady Gwendoline's instigation, 
 duchesses, countesses, and other dazzling dames 
 fluttered about the backslider, delicately wheedling, 
 pooh-poohing, and burning the incense which stifles 
 apostasy. When that feminine mode of argument 
 comes into play, logic, we know, retires abashed. 
 Since Adam set the example of graceful surrender, 
 no man has ever quite successfully withstood the wiles 
 of coaxing Eves. 
 
 Vincent had the defect of being intensely human. 
 It was certainly very sweet to find so many fair and 
 noble creatures concerned about his social redemp- 
 tion. Had they taken him in time, had the iron not 
 been allowed to get so deep into his soul, he might 
 have been enticed back among the lotus-flowers. As 
 he showed a disposition to go his own way, after the 
 manner of the Twickhams, Fashion, altering its tone, 
 asked cynically if it were really a case of conscience, 
 or merely of lunacy, and decided by an overwhelming 
 majority for lunacy — at all events, for delusion of an 
 almost incredible kind. 
 
 The folly, however, they might have overlooked ; 
 318
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 319 
 
 the bad taste they could not forgive. There are 
 many methods of going astray, said the men of 
 knowledge, and Vincent's was surely the most idiotic 
 of them all. With his resources he ought to have 
 hit upon something picturesque, something which 
 would really titillate the Epicurean imagination. If 
 he aimed at sensation, then his invention was assuredly 
 a very lame dog. Faugh ! he had no ingenuity in his 
 obliquities. Gilded youths, with great talents and 
 slender purses, wished to Heaven they had his 
 chances. Eh, Lord ! millions to go to the devil 
 on, and to sneak thither by a back alley ! It was a 
 stain upon the whole order of the elect. 
 
 Guilty Vincent was, and obstinately guilty. When 
 one of the censors, growing bold, derided with more 
 insolence than was becoming, he remarked incisively 
 on the wisdom of attending to one's own business. 
 The retort was taken as proof that his malady was 
 incurable. So the apostles of pleasure turned away, 
 grimacing, to give place to other counsellors. 
 
 Of these, the chief, and by far the most impressive, 
 was the Right Rev. Josiah Tinkle, D.D., Lord Bishop 
 of Blockley. Vincent had escaped to Twickham 
 Towers in hope of peace, and thither, by grace of 
 Lady Twickham, Dr. Tinkle followed him. The 
 bishop was sorely distressed over Vincent's aberration 
 (revolt he had first called it, but the word was harsh), 
 and, as spiritual adviser to the family, felt it his duty 
 to speak a word in season. He was able to do it 
 soothingly and convincingly, because his creed had 
 long harmonised the principles of profit and loss and 
 of the Sermon on the Mount. Though zealous for 
 religion, he never forgot the beneficent influence of 
 Consols. You cannot have a strong Church without 
 a full treasury ; nor a full treasury without a pros- 
 perous commerce. In England's commerce beer 
 represents many millions sterling. Ergo beer is one
 
 320 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 of the most potent of spiritual agents. You perceive 
 how perfectly he was armed for the encounter ; and, 
 indeed, the great Blougram himself was not better 
 equipped for " argumentory purposes," when, radiant 
 with wine, he and Mr. Gigadibs pushed back chairs, 
 and watched to " see truth dawn together " — an 
 experience for philosophers. 
 
 What's your reward, self-abnegating friend ? That 
 was Blougram's pill ; it was Tinkle's also, only he 
 hid it deftly in ecclesiastical jam. He honoured the 
 man of tender scruples — none more ; but, with all 
 the authority of a prelate, justified the ways of honour- 
 able merchants and traders in suiting the world which 
 " gives us the good things." Blougram again, you 
 see. Vincent had had an unpleasant experience, had 
 witnessed scenes too harrowing, perhaps, for untried 
 nerves. Well, the bishop was able to assure him 
 that, in the mysterious dispensation of Providence, 
 such things must be. Who's to blame ? The question 
 was asked, so that the answer was already given in 
 the tone. 
 
 The enthusiasms of youth are beautiful, beautiful, 
 repeated the bishop, dwelling unctuously on the word. 
 Youth is the period of fervour, of heaven-high 
 aspirations, and noble if impossible ideals. It is in 
 youth we rapturously build castles in the air, and 
 resolve to create new Edens out of trampled, weed- 
 choked gardens of the world. Dr. Tinkle rolled his 
 eyes ; all that was very beautiful. But alas ! change 
 comes with the years. Time damps and saps fervid 
 hearts, and with accumulating knowledge, men, very 
 reasonably, come to accept what is, and cease to 
 yearn idly for what might be. Thus they are fitted 
 for the practical affairs of life. 
 
 But did the early flame burn for nothing ? By no 
 means, exclaimed the bishop, by no means. God 
 has so arranged the world that there is good in every-
 
 xmtne on tbc Xces 321 
 
 thing — in the fire of youth, no less than in the hard 
 common sense of middle age. Unless wilfully 
 quenched, a subdued light continues to illumine — the 
 inside of a bushel, thought Vincent. 
 
 The problem is not perfection. An inscrutable 
 Wisdom has ordained men shall not see perfection on 
 earth, so that they may long for Heaven. Therefore, 
 to avoid shipwreck here below men tack and turn — 
 in other words, proceed by fair and reasonable com- 
 promise. There's a great instinct which guides 
 mankind. Even the Church, admitted the bishop, 
 cannot afford to be wholly spiritual. To maintain 
 her place and influence she has to cultivate a certain 
 worldliness. As for the drink traffic, said Dr. Tinkle, 
 touching the tender spot with his most sympathetic 
 finger, doubtless it is open to gross abuse — like 
 religion, and liberty, and wealth, and power, and other 
 priceless things. Nevertheless, we ought to be grateful 
 for all God's gifts ; and for himself, he was much too 
 thankful for the general good to condemn the whole 
 for a part. 
 
 Vincent felt the blood beginning to tingle in his 
 veins ; for he had the Twickham aversion to 
 sophistry. 
 
 " I think, my lord, you are a shareholder in the 
 Brewery," he said, his eyelids contracting as he watched 
 the effect. 
 
 The bishop bowed, smiling. Yes, Lord Twickham 
 had been good enough to allot him some shares, and 
 he had never had cause to regret the investment. 
 Vincent shut his lips hard, because it is unseemly to 
 put a bishop to confusion with ill-bred truths about 
 love of dividends. But his private thought was, " If 
 the Church talks like this, who is to blame the 
 tavern ? " 
 
 Contriving to turn Dr. Tinkle over to his mother, 
 Vincent slipped out unperceived for a whiff of fresh 
 
 21
 
 322 Mine on tbc Xces 
 
 air to purify the vitiated atmosphere. It was a 
 golden autumn evening. The fragrance of ripe fruit 
 and cut corn mellowed the air, and the far-off music 
 of reaping charmed the ear. Quitting the shrubbery, 
 in which he wandered at random, Vincent entered 
 a park, whence he had wide views of wood and field, 
 and men and women idyllically engaged in harvestry. 
 Almost as far as he could see, on every side spread 
 the Twickham lands, and below the gigantic Brewery 
 sent up its pillar of smoke, black against banks of 
 rose-red cloud. 
 
 For a while Vincent stood gazing wistfully upon 
 the fair rich country over which people said he 
 should one day be lord, and at the clustered town, 
 lying, as it were, in the hollow of his hand. But 
 he had no thought of lordship. As he gazed, a 
 strange, new sensation came upon him. It was as 
 if his heart became suddenly aware of unsuspected 
 sentiment in the familiar scene, as if impassive 
 nature, melting sympathetically, were surprising him 
 with her confidences. 
 
 What did it mean ? Walking a little farther, he 
 spied a moss-grown stone at a tree-foot and sat 
 on it. The sound of the reaping machines ceased, 
 and he saw the workers slowly disappear hither and 
 thither. How many harvests had been gathered 
 upon those plains ! A thousand years the bountiful 
 fields had smiled to the autumn sun ; and should 
 smile at the end of a thousand more. His heart 
 leaped. How would the world look after another 
 ten hundred years ? If he could but see what the 
 centuries had in store ! Perhaps he should see. Giving 
 his imagination flight, he lost himself in reverie. The 
 west flamed blood-red ; but he did not see the miracle 
 of colour. Dusk fell, and he was still dreaming ; but 
 presently in the dim light he was startled by the 
 noise of footsteps. Springing up, he met his father.
 
 "Wlline on the Xees 323 
 
 " Oh ! " he said, his heart very near his mouth. 
 
 " Oh, Vin, is that you ? " asked his father, with well- 
 feigned lightness. " Don't you think it's getting 
 rather chilly to be admiring the scenery ? Besides, 
 the night's upon us. A particularly fine sunset, 
 wasn't it?" 
 
 He did not tell that, having missed him, he came 
 out in search of Vincent. 
 
 They returned to the house, talking indifferently. 
 At the great door Vincent lingered a moment, looking 
 into the soft glow which suffused the western sky. 
 
 " How peaceful it is ! " he said, turning with a sigh. 
 
 His father's quick ear heard. 
 
 " What makes you sigh, Vin ? " he asked. 
 
 "Oh! did I sigh? I'm sure I can't tell why; but 
 it's nothing." 
 
 Yet in the silence of midnight Lord Twickham 
 was thinking of that sigh. Taken in conjunction 
 with the look on Vincent's face, there was something 
 in it which haunted him like a premonition.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 NEXT day the family returned to London. Lord 
 and Lady Twickham would have prolonged 
 their stay in the country, but Vincent suddenly 
 announced his intention of getting back to town, 
 and they could not resist the desire to be with 
 him. He was very restless, though striving to be 
 composed, and moody, though trying to be cheerful. 
 Often they would look at him furtively, acute distress 
 in their hearts ; but neither referred to the cloud 
 which darkened about them, seeming to blot out 
 the face of Heaven. They would at least refrain 
 from harassing him in the crisis of his disease. 
 
 Others were less considerate. Again and again 
 MacTor and Tapley and the Earl of Wegron re- 
 newed the attack, sometimes descending upon Vincent 
 singly, sometimes all together. He bore with them 
 good-humouredly, because, unlike Dr. Tinkle, they 
 abstained from saccharine morality. MacTor, indeed, 
 boldly upheld his own practices, and those of the 
 trade generally. 
 
 " It's do as we're doing or take a back seat," he 
 said ; " and a back seat's much too cold for me, thank 
 you. People go to the devil on drink, you say. 
 Well and good. People go to the devil anyway ; if 
 not on drink, then on love or religion, or something 
 else equally excellent. You see, that's the natural 
 destination of the majority ; and I tell you quite 
 frankly, Mr. Twickham, the scheme of universal 
 
 324
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 325 
 
 salvation by denying the thirsty is just pure lunacy. 
 You can't so much as make a beginning with it. 
 Besides, man, consider the scandal of the thing. 
 Here's your father, the greatest man of the age in 
 his own line, and you go throwing stones at him. 
 Is that becoming ? Tut, tut ! have a glass of cham- 
 pagne, and let nonsense cease ! " 
 
 The Earl of Wegron was cynical according to his 
 habit ; but Tapley was guilty of real earnestness ; 
 and Lady Gwendoline, offended by her husband's 
 persistent fatuity, was also zealous in opposition, 
 and that hurt Vincent only a little less than the 
 suffering face of his mother. The eloquent and 
 ingenious Lush, too, put forth her rarest art in 
 coaxing him out of his heresies. And he would 
 have given them all the joy of escorting him back 
 to the fold, but for the fact that he had been swept 
 past the turning-point. 
 
 The trade heard, and wondered with a feverish, 
 profane wonder. In every bar-room in the kingdom 
 " Young Twickham's revolt " was an absorbing topic 
 of conversation. What was to be the end of it? 
 How did old Twickham, the unlucky beggar, feel ? 
 And how was he likely to chastise the offender ? 
 These were the questions which roused ten thousand 
 speculative intellects to wild activity. The young 
 scoffed ; but seasoned topers, taking a more serious 
 view, rose unitedly against the presumption of the 
 new generation. What right had Vincent Twickham 
 to give himself virtuous airs ? Was he better than 
 the father who had always given them beer ? If his 
 conscience was out of order, let him dose it with the 
 family ale ; and let him also beware how he tried to 
 deprive honest folk of their legitimate drink. 
 
 These were Mr. Wragg's sentiments ; and, in his 
 utter disgust and dejection, Dick could not help 
 echoing them. For a whole evening the pair debated
 
 326 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 the matter ; and so deeply was Dick affected, that, 
 in the small hours he staggered into Paradise Court, 
 hiccoughing tragically over the insanity of those who 
 don't know when they're in clover. 
 
 " Gawd ! " he exclaimed to a figure reeling past in 
 the darkness ; " Gawd ! 'e is a bloomin' fool ! " 
 
 The figure stopped, swung round, advanced a step, 
 retired erratically, and finally brought up, swaying 
 against the blackness of the wall. By its dress a 
 sober person could have told it was a woman. 
 
 " 'Oo's a bloomin' fool ? " it demanded huskily. 
 
 " 'Im ! " answered Dick, waving his arms. " 'Im ! " 
 
 " Better mind 'oo yer a-insultin' of," said the figure, 
 and reeled on. 
 
 " Well, 'e is a fool ! " reiterated Dick. " Goin' back 
 on beer (hie) ; 'e is a blasted fool ! " and he too dis- 
 appeared, 
 
 When the Ruggler Den heard. Tommy Binks, 
 though the reverse of demonstrative, danced a gleeful 
 jig, calling for drinks all round. Oh, ho ! what 
 had he so often told them ? Fate would yet knock 
 the stuffing out of Goodman, for all his insolent 
 snobbery and yarns of aristocratic pals, and they, 
 bless them ! they should be present to see the sport ! 
 
 Meanwhile, Vincent spent days and nights of 
 raging fever in battle with himself. A hundred times 
 he was tempted to give it up, and return penitently 
 to beaten ways. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps all 
 his friends were right. It might be his brain was 
 breaking down, and that what he called principle was, 
 as MacTor expressed it, mere lunacy. In any case 
 why should he be a martyr ? What would it benefit 
 him if every slum in London were sober and decent? 
 And at that craven question would come the swift 
 stinging revulsion. The wronged and the wretched 
 were calling to him for aid. Their wail was ever 
 in his ears, the vision of their misery ever before
 
 limine on tbe Xees 327 
 
 his eyes. Could he like a selfish coward turn away 
 from them ? No : win or lose he would go on ; and 
 those who now sneered and condemned would one 
 day understand and appreciate. Rising one morning, 
 ghastly after a sleepless night, he finally acknow- 
 ledged to himself the impossibility of going back. 
 
 Meeting Dr. Brinkley in the course of the day, 
 he stated his decision, and was wrung by the hand 
 
 " You understand what it means ? " said the doctor. 
 
 " I ought if thinking about it helps," answered 
 Vincent. 
 
 " Then," cried the doctor, " in God's name go 
 ahead ! Go straight ahead. Only avoid rashness. 
 You will need money, much money." 
 
 Vincent thought that difficulty could be got over. 
 
 "That- is good," said the doctor. "I am not of 
 those who run down money. It's a great blessing : 
 in your scheme, a necessity as well as a blessing. 
 For what have you to do ? Not to make war on 
 public-houses. That would be like dribbling rose- 
 water down a sewer-grating." 
 
 " My head rings, doctor," said Vincent. " Put the 
 project into words." 
 
 " Yes, I daresay the head rings," replied the doctor 
 feelingly. " Heads must do that if the world is to 
 be kept from going to smash. As to the project, 
 you are to engage in a great process of weaning, and 
 you will often fail and be faint-hearted, for the sot 
 is not easily turned from his sottishness, and the 
 powers arrayed against you are strong." 
 
 " And the start, doctor? " 
 
 " Well, you must above all things be practical. 
 Food and clothes are always conducive to happiness. 
 Therefore feed and clothe — substantially. Don't 
 imagine that tea and a currant bun, some shop-soiled 
 calico, and a sermon on the beauty of holiness, will 
 make people content and prosperous. Half of them
 
 328 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 would throw your tea in your face, and roar down 
 your sermon — provided they condescended to notice 
 it. Attend to the body first, and the soul will be the 
 easier of access. Having fed and clothed, you might 
 give a thought to the lodging. Creatures made in 
 God's image should not be expected to thrive in 
 sties where beasts would sicken and die. If you could 
 signalise the start by hanging a thousand cent, per 
 cent, landlords of the seed of Abraham, you would be 
 doing the community a service. The Jew's a fungus 
 that saps slum life. He's there, however, faster than 
 a barnacle to a ship's bottom, and he's not to be 
 dislodged for the present. All you can do is to see 
 he doesn't draw too much blood with his pound of 
 flesh. Then having seen to the lodging, you will 
 come to your central idea — that of providing whole- 
 some rational pleasure. Give the victims of our 
 social and economic systems a chance of indulging 
 in innocent diversions : give them music, give them 
 literature, give them song and dance ; but for Heaven's 
 sake don't give them sermons ! And for the rest 
 God bless you ! He will understand." 
 
 Vincent's heart swelled ; tears of joy came into 
 his eyes. 
 
 " So be it," he said, grasping the doctor's hand. 
 " So be it. Let doubt end ; let action begin." 
 
 It began with the stroke which Lord Twickham 
 anticipated. One morning 'Change rang with the 
 news that fifty thousand MacTor shares were offered — 
 and instantly bought, as it was discovered, by Lord 
 Twickham. The intelligence sent a thrill to the 
 uttermost ends of the kingdom.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE evil that was feared had come, and must 
 be faced with what nerve God vouchsafed. 
 Imperiously ignoring the disgrace, Lord Twickham 
 went about with shut lips, disdaining so much as a 
 reference to his son's rebellion. Lady Twickham 
 brooded and wept when she had a chance ; and 
 loyally divided her ministrations between the husband 
 she worshipped and the son who was part of herself 
 And Lady Gwendoline, being straitly forbidden to 
 think of outside concerns, willingly turned inward 
 to matters of more intimate interest. 
 
 As for the rebel, he gave to his wife a tenderer 
 attention ; to his father and mother a deepened affec- 
 tion. Their way could no longer be his way ; ahead 
 he could see wide and ever wider divergences ; but 
 that only made the communion of hearts closer. 
 People wondered how the masterful Lord Twickham 
 tolerated a weak-kneed son, forgetting that if the 
 son were weak-kneed there should be no talk of 
 toleration. They expected to see Vincent punished 
 as an example to all rebellious sons and faddists ; 
 and lo ! in secret he seemed to be cherished with a 
 particular fondness, as if wrong-doing were the golden 
 key to the affections. 
 
 The rebel, on his part, was equally puzzling. 
 Though the sensation of his revolt eclipsed all other 
 sensations, he could not be induced to discuss it ; 
 nor had he a word of vilification for the camp he 
 
 329
 
 330 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 forsook. To the water-drinkers his reticence and 
 aloofness were a sore disappointment. When they 
 came, serenading, to claim him as an ally, he told 
 them he had plans of his own which he desired to 
 work out in his own way, according to his own lights. 
 Whereupon they began to surmise he was missing 
 the road to Heaven after all. Their worst suspicions 
 were strengthened when they found him holding 
 stubbornly by old friends. He clung to Dick Good- 
 man as notorious a scamp, they all knew, as any 
 within the four-mile radius, though Dick threatened 
 to kick a missionary sent to demonstrate the evils 
 of beer-drinking ; and he coddled Ingledew, a weed 
 that could never be cultivated into a flower. No, 
 he certainly was not to be counted as an ally ; rather 
 a paradox come to perplex. 
 
 It was soon proved that their ideals were not 
 his. Under counsel of Dr. Brinkley, who knew the 
 slums by heart, he laid his schemes ; and wholesome 
 amusement, not deliberate reform, was the guiding 
 principle. 
 
 " The glaring defect of nearly all existing systems 
 of temporal salvation," said the doctor, " is that they 
 are tediously and offensively didactic. Too much 
 preaching, sir — too much preaching and too little 
 practice, that's what's the matter with us. If you 
 are to save, avoid the preachy as you would avoid 
 the plague." 
 
 Therefore, instead of a new preacher, there arose 
 a new professor of pastime. From a Hebrew land- 
 owner he purchased, at not more than twice its value, 
 a site on which to realise his dream — the Metropolitan 
 Hall of Recreation. And intense was his joy in 
 studying plans, in conferring with architects and 
 builders, in ranging the world for suggestions, and 
 in watching the burrowing for foundations for his 
 palace of delight. Here was something tangible with
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 331 
 
 which the practical Twickham spirit could content 
 itself; and the fact braced like mountain air. 
 
 It was also the cause of infinite gossip and curiosity. 
 The thirsty and unwashed flocked to see the riven 
 earth, speculating what would come of it all, and 
 wondering whether there was to be free beer. When 
 it became known that beer was excluded, a shock of 
 disgust went through the community. 
 
 " Bloomin' reformatory ! " said one husky critic. 
 
 " If them's 'is lines," said another, his mind running 
 on the exclusion of liquid comforts, " the pubs is safe." 
 
 " Ain't there nobody about to teach the bleed in' 
 idjit sense ? " enquired a third, sticking out a scornful 
 underlip. 
 
 Politer cynics remarked with a snicker, " The 
 millennium's at hand, since a Twickham turns his 
 back on beer." 
 
 All the while Vincent went about his business, 
 genially disregarding criticism. If he were on the 
 right lines results would speak for themselves, sug- 
 gested the Twickham spirit ; if he were on the wrong 
 lines, the less said the better. With Dr. Brinkley 
 he went to and fro among the dark places of 
 England's heart, bestowing much in charity, and 
 hiding his benefactions as if they were criminal 
 offences. Dick was commonly of the party, because 
 he was rich in resource, and his right arm was 
 strong where the arm of the law was decidedly weak. 
 Besides, in spite of differences about drink, Vincent 
 had won the fighter's heart. 
 
 " 'E may have water on the brain a bit," said Mr. 
 Goodman, in explanation of his hero-worship, "but 
 'e ain't got none on the 'art, an' Lor' pity the mug as 
 says 'e 'as. Nor he don't go talkin' at a cove as takes 
 a drop. I've my beer as usual." 
 
 This catholicity of sentiment likewise made a bond- 
 slave of Ingledew, who followed among the black,
 
 332 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 swirling, underground currents, trembling at his own 
 temerity. 
 
 Being well provided with funds, Dick and Ingledew 
 occasionally indulged in surreptitious festivities of 
 their own. It chanced one evening, while near 
 Drury Lane, that, partly from curiosity, partly from 
 sociality, they turned into the Spotted Goat, and 
 behold ! Velvet Chick in the seat of honour, with 
 Tommy Binks by his side. Dick greeted them with 
 extravagant cordiality, introduced Ingledew, and 
 asked them to "give it a name." They in turn 
 made the same request of him, and the rounds were 
 many. As the talk grew in ardency past events 
 cropped up ; and Dick, suddenly waxing hot, made 
 certain assertions calculated to excite the listeners. 
 Ingledew implored his friend for God's sake to be 
 careful ; then, finding his appeal of no avail, fled in 
 terror. But Velvet Chick smoked his cigar placidly, 
 regarding Dick with contracted eyes, while Tommy 
 Binks merely spat and grinned. Presently Dick 
 departed, leaving the air palpitating with challenges. 
 
 That night his conduct was the subject of an 
 animated discussion at the Ruggler Den, and the 
 Rugglers chuckled joyously. Velvet Chick poured 
 out volumes of smoke as he meditated, and Binks 
 was chiefly engaged in watching the heavy-weight's 
 face. Vincent's assumption of righteousness was 
 also discussed ; and the toast, " May all prigs perish ! " 
 was received with gleaming eyes and ecstatic grunts. 
 When the meeting broke up. Velvet Chick and 
 Tommy Binks conferred half an hour by themselves. 
 
 Three weeks later the inseparable four, Vincent, 
 Taplcy, Dick, and Ingledew were returning in the 
 dusk after a visit to some of Ingledcw's old quarters 
 in Spitalfields. With Vincent it had been a busy and 
 happy day. In the morning he had had a long, con- 
 fidential talk with his father and mother, and Lord
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 333 
 
 Twickham had expressed gratification in the fact 
 that his son's divagations were not leading to open 
 opposition. In a merry, bantering way he even wished 
 success to the Metropolitan Hall of Recreation. 
 
 Thus encouraged, Lady Twickham had in the after- 
 noon permitted Vincent to take her to see the foun- 
 dations, the architect being present with a picture 
 of the completed building. As they were driven, 
 chatting together, it seemed mother and son had 
 never before come so close to each other. Vincent 
 was in high spirits ; he had a thousand things to tell, 
 and he told them with the gusto of a boy describing 
 a new game. Looking at his eager face, his mother's 
 eyes glistened wistfully as she thought all might yet 
 be well. 
 
 Elated by his mother's open interest and his 
 father's implied forgiveness, Vincent went off blithely 
 with Tapley to meet Dick and Ingledew, according 
 to an appointment made the day before. Together 
 the four explored some of the darker caverns of 
 Spitalfields, like Daniel passing scatheless through 
 dens of wild beasts, because silver was strewn 
 plenteously by the way. At the lighting of the 
 lamps they looked in on their old friend, the deputy, 
 and, having cheered him in his pit, turned westward, 
 talking lightly, for Vincent was still exhilarated. 
 It was the hour when factory and workshop pour 
 forth their grimy, medley brigades to aggravate the 
 common tumult ; and the pavements were confused 
 torrents. Wherever the press gave elbow-room, the 
 younger spirits, as yet unbroken by hardship and 
 hard living, lightened the march with rude horse-play. 
 Youths, in token of affection, thumped the damsels 
 of their choice ; and the damsels retaliated with 
 squeals of delight ; or boys and girls chased and 
 ducked in boisterous disregard of the threats of the 
 elders with whom they collided. There were many
 
 334 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 cross-currents, and jostling, accidental and inten- 
 tional, went on merrily to the sound of laughter and 
 of cursing. Several times Dick felt the wanton 
 impact, and responded deftly with the stiff elbow or 
 bent shoulder as in days of old. Once the fist came 
 into play, and the crowd, quick to feel the electric 
 thrill, paused, craning its neck and shouting for the 
 fun. But Vincent jerked Dick aside ; the instant 
 commotion died as swiftly as it rose, and the torrent 
 rolled on, clamorous as the tide racing over shingle. 
 
 " Let us get away," said Vincent, feeling as if the 
 breath were being pressed out of him. 
 
 " All right, sir," answered Dick cheerfully ; " it do 
 be a bit tight in 'ere. Kind of 'minds me of the shock 
 of the'Ighlanders takin' niggers on the bayonet." 
 
 They were turning into a side street, which promised 
 relief in its emptiness, when all at once Vincent, who 
 had got some yards ahead, was jostled almost off his 
 feet. Seeing him reel, Dick leaped to his aid, hitting 
 out right and left. As he struck he caught a glimpse 
 of the livid face of Tommy Binks, and he rather felt 
 than saw that other livid, familiar faces were behind. 
 At the same time he was conscious of a noise like 
 the soughing of a mighty wind among trees, and he 
 knew the crowd was closing in, panting to see a fight. 
 
 Now in a London street tumult anything may 
 happen ; and something happened now on which 
 the most sanguine lover of sensation durst not have 
 counted. For perhaps the space of one minute the 
 crowd swayed, uncertain and unseeing. What was 
 going on in that hidden inner ring ? What was the 
 scuffling centre knot about ? The answer came sharp 
 and startling in the crack of a pistol, followed, quick 
 as trigger could be pulled, by another and another. 
 With the last came the frantic blowing of a police- 
 whistle. Half a moment the multitude stood motion- 
 less, holding its breath in awe ; then, as rises a
 
 "Mine on tbe Xees 335 
 
 tempestuous billow, it heaved and pitched forward, 
 roaring deliriously. 
 
 In the first rush Tapley and Ingledew were cut 
 off from their companions ; but at that hoarse shout 
 Tapley crushed distractedly in, to find Vincent and 
 Dick stretched side by side on the pavement. 
 
 " What's this ? " he cried, living terror in his voice. 
 " Vin," bending over his brother-in-law, " you're not 
 hurt. Tell me you're not hit." 
 
 Vincent turned on his side, his hand pressed to his 
 chest, and Tapley was horrified to see a dark red 
 stain on the white shirt. 
 
 " Oh, my God ! " he gasped, dropping on his knees. 
 
 At that Dick lifted his head, made as if to rise, 
 wriggled feebly, and fell back, limp. 
 
 " Domino, Tottie," he said quietly, looking up. an 
 expression half smile, half pain, in his eyes. " Mind 
 'wl" And lay still. 
 
 Tapley bent more closely over Vincent. 
 
 " I'm choking," came in a panting, gurgling whisper 
 —"oh! I'm choking." 
 
 Tapley ran out the waistcoat buttons, and a 
 constable tore off the collar and ripped open the 
 shirt. Then Tapley, hardly knowing what he did, 
 shouted Dr. Brinkley's address. 
 
 " Run," he called frantically—" run ! " 
 
 Fortunately the messenger had not far to go, and 
 within two minutes the doctor was on the scene. 
 
 " Shot through the lungs ; Goodman twice," he 
 said, after a swift examination ; and he ordered the 
 wounded men to be carried instantly to the hospital. 
 " This," he remarked to Tapley as they followed — 
 " this is the gratitude of the slums." 
 
 " Is it serious, doctor ? " asked Tapley, his heart 
 stopping for the reply. 
 
 " I'm afraid it is," said the doctor—" I'm afraid it is." 
 And proceeded with bent head.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE hospital surgeons did their work with the 
 calm celerity of experts in tragedy. When 
 first treatment had been given, and the patients, 
 scarcely conscious, were tucked away in care of 
 nurses, Dr. Brinkley took the house-surgeon aside. 
 
 " Well ! " he said, scanning the face of the other 
 anxiously. 
 
 " It's very serious," was the response. 
 
 " Not death ? " said the doctor, his voice quivering. 
 
 " It may be death," answered the surgeon quietly. 
 
 A film came before the doctor's eyes. 
 
 " Oh no ! " he protested, with a short, hard breath. 
 "It must not be death ; we cannot let it be death." 
 
 " Not if we can help it, Dr. Brinkley. But I 
 needn't tell you of the dangers of internal hemorrhage 
 in such cases. We can't even search for the bullets. 
 For the present we can only try to keep in life. 1 
 hope we shall succeed." 
 
 The doctor passed a shaking hand across a damp 
 forehead. 
 
 " What will Lord and Lady Twickham do ? " he 
 said helplessly. 
 
 The surgeon did not answer ; his business was 
 with the ills of those lying within the hospital walls, 
 not with the probable feelings or doings of those 
 outside. 
 
 To Tapley and Dr. Brinkley it was a racking 
 problem how Vincent's father and mother were to 
 
 336
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 337 
 
 be told of their misfortune. Lady Gwendoline, being 
 in a very delicate condition of health, must for the 
 present be kept in ignorance. 
 
 " You'll do it, of course," said Tapley. " You're 
 experienced in imparting bad news." 
 
 " On the contrary, you'll do it," returned the 
 doctor. 
 
 " I couldn't," protested Tapley—" I really couldn't. 
 I should make a mess of it ; I am sure I should. 
 Feel how I am perspiring." 
 
 " Perspiring ! " repeated Dr. Brinkley. " I'm deadly 
 cold. I've rough-handled death in the slums for 
 thirty years, and never felt chilled like this." 
 
 In the end they did it together, scarcely knowing 
 how ; and within five minutes the gleaming blacks 
 were racing for the hospital as in all their sleek lives 
 they had never raced before. But their speed was in 
 vain. Lord and Lady Twickham were conducted 
 to the house-surgeon's room, where the impossibility 
 of disturbing their son was gently explained to them. 
 Lady Twickham, whose beseeching, terrified eyes 
 implied that the surgeon held power of life and death, 
 pleaded piteously to be allowed to stay and watch. 
 She would not disturb Vincent by word or act. She 
 would be quiet — absolutely quiet ; but she must .see 
 and take care of her boy. When that, too, was gently 
 denied her, the strained heart rebelled, and she would 
 have called out upbraidingly but for the dry sobs 
 which choked her. Lord Twickham, himself on the 
 verge of a sob, comforted her brokenly ; and the 
 surgeon, versed in the eccentricities of anguish, 
 waited gravely. 
 
 "Your ladyship may rest assured that everything 
 possible shall be done," he said softly, when she could 
 listen. " It is because we wish to restore him to you 
 quickly that we guard him so jealously now." He 
 presented a list of the surgical staff to Lord Twickham.
 
 338 "mine on tbe Xees 
 
 " Your lordship will see," he said, " he shall have 
 the very best skill in London." 
 
 Lord Tvvickham nodded, distrusting his power to 
 speak. There came a call for the surgeon ; and they 
 were bowed out. 
 
 As they passed along a corridor a door opened, 
 and Jenny came out weeping convulsively. Mr. 
 Ingledew, it seemed, had burst in upon her, crying 
 out his news. She flew to the hospital, and for ten 
 minutes had been begging ineffectually for a glimpse 
 of Dick. Seeing Lady Twickham, also weeping, she 
 ran forward, her hands out imploringly. 
 
 " Oh ! my lady," she cried, taking hold of Lady 
 Twickham's dress, " what's happened ? Tell me what's 
 wrong. They won't let me see my husband." 
 
 " They won't let me see my son," returned Lady 
 Twickham, the tears streaming down her face. 
 
 Jenny staggered back, her wet eyes fixed in a 
 wild stare. 
 
 " Your son ! " she panted. " My lady, they're not 
 killed together. Say," clutching at the dress again — 
 " say they're not killed together." 
 
 " Not killed," put in Lord Twickham, in an un- 
 steady voice, " only hurt, and they must not be 
 disturbed." 
 
 Jenny curtseyed instinctively. 
 
 *' Thank you, m' lord," she said. " Then we shall 
 see them by-and-by." 
 
 " By-and-by," repeated Lord Twickham, turning 
 away. 
 
 " Jenny," said Lady Twickham, " give me your 
 arm ; my poor head swims." 
 
 And Jenny gave her arm. For a moment social 
 inequalities were obliterated. They were merely 
 women — women, and in trouble for their beloved. In 
 an instant of sunshine the bolt had fallen. The idols 
 of their hearts were swept out of sight, and were
 
 XRaine on tbe Xees 339 
 
 lying in the dread silence behind, bleeding, perhaps 
 dying, and they were denied admission. They went 
 out together, wrung as by spasms. Lord Twickham, 
 waiting outside, assisted his wife into the carriage, 
 then turned to her who had no carriage. 
 
 " Your husband helped my son," he said hoarsely, 
 putting something into Jenny's hand. 
 
 " Thank God for that ! " sobbed Jenny — " thank 
 God for that ! " and went her way, blind with tears. 
 
 For a week the three haunted the temple of woe, 
 with flickering hopes that turned to despairing sick- 
 ness as the days passed and they were still put off. 
 Then one morning Jenny was taken through corridors 
 so silent that the beating of her own heart made an 
 awesome noise. After many turnings she entered 
 a large, bare, white-washed room, and there, on a 
 bed behind a little screen, with the light falling softly 
 on his face, lay Dick, white and clean and peaceful. 
 But he did not look up at the sound of her approach ; 
 nor did he speak when she bent over him. For an 
 instant her head swirled giddily, and a noise as of 
 tempests was in her ears. Then the gracious tears 
 came, soothing away the tumult. 
 
 At dead of night Jenny had often imagined the 
 frenzy of grief and horror which must seize her at 
 the awful moment. She thought she would go mad 
 and rave ; and she had visions of herself led forth 
 shrieking ; and lo ! what she actuall}' experienced 
 was the hush which follows the devastating storm. 
 The nurse was ready with aid, but it was not needed. 
 Kneeling, Jenny kissed the white face again and 
 again, her tears falling on it like a benediction. She 
 could caress now without fear of protest : Dick 
 was her own — her very own. 
 
 With a lump in her throat, the nurse walked 
 away ; and Jenny, alone with her dead, bowed in 
 profound thankfulness. For Dick was safe at last.
 
 340 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 Never again would he wander amid perils it made 
 her heart ache to think of ; never again should she 
 have to sit by a cold hearth waiting for him in fear 
 and trembling. No — never again. 
 
 After a while she rose, looking round. Noticing 
 her, the nurse stepped forward ; and then Jenny 
 learned that in the end Dick fell asleep as softly as 
 a babe in its mother's arms. 
 
 " Did he leave any message ? " she asked, her 
 heart hungering for a last word of remembrance. 
 
 " All the time he lay he was hardly able to speak," 
 said the nurse. " But I was to tell you he was hit 
 trying to help Mr. Twickham ; and you weren't to 
 be sorry, because " 
 
 " Because why ? " cried Jenny. 
 
 " I think," answered the nurse hesitatingly, " because 
 he hadn't been very good to you." 
 
 " Oh ! but he was good to me," protested Jenny, 
 her tears gushing afresh — " he was very, very good 
 to me ! " 
 
 " Well," said the nurse tenderly, putting an arm 
 about her, " he gave his life for another." 
 
 " That was Dick," cried Jenny, " saying he was 
 bad and dying for another. That's not bad, is it ? " 
 
 " No, dear," replied the nurse softly, " that's not 
 bad." 
 
 Jenny moved on, drying her eyes. 
 
 " May I bring Loo, that's our little girl, to see 
 him ? " she asked. 
 
 " Bring her, and I will look out for you," was the 
 response. 
 
 She brought Loo ; and, kneeling together, the 
 woman and the child paid their tribute to the man 
 who had so often wronged them both, yet, as Jenny 
 believed, loved them all the while, and, if put to 
 the test, would have died for them. Perhaps she 
 was ri<Tht.
 
 Mine on tbc Xees 341 
 
 At the door, as they were leaving, they met Lord 
 and Lady Twickham. 
 
 " Brought your little girl to sec her father ? " said 
 his lordship kindly. " How is he ? " 
 
 " Gone, m' lord ! " answered Jenny simply — " Dick's 
 gone." 
 
 " Gone ! " echoed Lord Twickham ; and then pass- 
 ing on, " God help you ! " 
 
 Lady Twickham stayed just a moment to solace 
 the widow and orphan, herself in direr need of 
 comfort. 
 
 That day his father and mother came with the 
 promise to see Vincent ; but again they were dis- 
 appointed, and the disappointment seemed even sorer 
 than usual. Lady Twickham pleaded to be allowed 
 to go in to the patient just for a moment — ^just for 
 one moment, because she had news which would 
 cheer him. 
 
 " The fact is," explained Lord Twickham, " an 
 event which he had anticipated with a young hus- 
 band's eagerness took place this morning. A son 
 was born to him, and he'd like to know." 
 
 The physician ventured to congratulate them all. 
 But such good news was exciting. Would they 
 have patience just a little longer ? As they would 
 understand, it was necessary to be careful — very 
 careful. In a few days more the patient could 
 probably bear an interview. 
 
 So they returned home, sick and heavy at heart, 
 to find an officer awaiting them with the intelligence 
 that two men, arrested on suspicion of having fired 
 the shots, were discharged for want of evidence. 
 
 " And this morning one of the victims died," said 
 Lord Twickham, galled by the failure of the law. 
 " In a crowded London street murder is committed, 
 and the murderers go free." 
 
 " It's because the street was crowded, my lord,"
 
 342 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 rejoined the officer. " In a big crush the chances are 
 no one sees the shots fired, not even those who are 
 hit. So it's been in this case, my lord." 
 
 " They ought to be caught ! " retorted his lordship 
 impatiently, hot with a sense of grievance against 
 things in general — " they ought to be caught ! 
 We're beaten about ! " he remarked to his wife a 
 minute later. " Everything's going wrong ! We're 
 terribly beaten about ! " and sank into a chair. 
 
 Nevertheless, hope leaped up again when, on strict 
 promise of keeping quiet and obeying instructions, 
 they were at length permitted to see Vincent. The 
 ghost of his former self, he lay very weak and still ; 
 but he smiled up at them, and kissed his mother's 
 hand in token of love and gladness. And as he held 
 it she bent low, whispering the joy which had come 
 to him. A radiance of delight danced in his eyes. 
 
 " And Gwen ? " he asked, feeling that heaven and 
 earth were whirling about him. 
 
 Gwen was doing well. 
 
 " Thank God for that ! " he sighed. 
 
 Had she heard of his accident ? Yes, she knew 
 he was slightly hurt. 
 
 " Don't make much of it," he said faintly. 
 
 No, they would not ; and he must compose himself 
 and not worry, because they were all impatient to 
 have him with them again. As they rose to go, he 
 beckoned his father to bend close, and asked how 
 Goodman was. Lord Twickham shuddered, but 
 managed to control himself 
 
 " Goodman is better, dear," was the answer. 
 
 "I'm glad of that," came with a faint smile. "I 
 asked, but they won't give me any information in 
 here." 
 
 Then his mother kissed him, and they went. 
 
 The next time they saw him, he intimated he had 
 a particular favour to ask. He was longing, yearning.
 
 Mine on tbe Xees 343 
 
 to set eyes on his boy. Would they gratify him ? 
 The physician shook his head ; but Vincent's look of 
 pain and Lady Twickham's pleading prevailed. 
 
 So they came again in the afternoon, and his son 
 was put in Vincent's arms — arms so feeble that, light 
 as the fluffy bundle was, it sank upon the poor 
 wounded breast. Looking into the tiny, sleeping face, 
 Vincent's eyes filled with tears, but he hid them by 
 bending and pressing his lips against the soft, warm 
 cheek. At that the big blue eyes opened and stared 
 at him in wonder, and he drew the babe closer to his 
 bosom. What his thoughts were in that moment of 
 agonised joy none shall ever know. 
 
 As he clasped his son there came a quick, convulsive 
 movement of the shoulders. Noticing it, the physician 
 motioned urgently to have the child taken away, and 
 Lady Twickham was adroitly induced to go home 
 with the nurse. But Lord Twickham was shown 
 into a waiting-room. When the baby was lifted out 
 of his arms Vincent fell back, his eyes strained in 
 frantic appeal, and a gurgling noise in his throat. 
 The next moment the physician was bending over 
 him. A glance showed what had happened. The 
 excitement had reopened the healing wound, and a 
 deadly hemorrhage ensued. Science did what it 
 could to check the flux ; but to the experienced eye 
 it was soon plain what was taking place. 
 
 " He's going," said the physician, lifting a pallid 
 face ; " call Lord Twickham." 
 
 Lord Twickham came swiftly, a ghastly presentiment 
 at his heart. The physician silently indicated a seat 
 by the bed-side, and he sat down, holding his son's 
 hand. Once he kissed it, but not a word passed his 
 lips. He could not tell how long he had sat when 
 he saw the physician feeling for the pulse. 
 
 " Well ? " he said hoarsely. 
 
 " He's gone," returned the physician softly.
 
 344 Mine on tbe Xees 
 
 Lord Twickham bowed his head. 
 
 " Merciful Heaven ! " he groaned, sinking on his 
 knees ; and then, " Cover his face — cover his face," 
 and he hid his own. 
 
 An age he seemed to crouch in that agony of soul. 
 At length he rose, his face quivering, his eyes blood- 
 shot, and having given some broken instructions, 
 walked out. In the vestibule he met the Bishop 
 of Blockley, come to make enquiries. The bishop 
 looked apprehensively in the ashen face. 
 
 " How is he ? " he asked, bating his breath. 
 
 " At peace," answered Lord Twickham — " at 
 peace." And then, before the other could speak, 
 " I shall go to him ; but he shall not return to me."
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 ON the outskirts of the town of St. Edmund-upon- 
 Stare, of which people had said Vincent Twick- 
 ham should one day be lord, stands a snug cottage 
 inhabited by a young widow and her little daughter. 
 In all that flows from the virtues of order and cleanli- 
 ness, it is at once the pattern and the envy of the 
 neighbourhood. Nor does it lack the charm of the 
 softer graces. In summer the roses cluster under its 
 eaves, perfuming the breeze which cools the chamber 
 within ; the garden gleams with flowers, and honey- 
 suckle smothers the fences. Even through the bleak- 
 ness of winter it is distinguished by an air of cosy 
 richness and content. 
 
 It is the cottage in which Jeimy as a girl dreamed 
 sweet dreams, and whither, her tragic romance over, 
 she returned to glorify the memory of the man who 
 had won and abused her heart. Women are born 
 worshippers. But could Dick have heard the stories 
 which Jenny was so fond of telling Loo, as the pair 
 sat together in the evening twilight, he must have 
 wondered by what stretch of fond or deluded fancy 
 he came to be numbered among the saints. 
 
 " You know, dear, it is to daddy we owe all we 
 have," Jenny said once, looking round on a material 
 comfort which sometimes made her sad, because he 
 was not there to share it. " If he hadn't been brave 
 and good we shouldn't be so happy now. For, you 
 see, he died for young I\Ir. Twickham ; and then Lord 
 
 345
 
 346 Bpllogue 
 
 Twickham gave us this house, where mammy lived 
 when she v/as a little girl like you." 
 
 " For ever and ever, all to ourselves ? " asked the 
 child. 
 
 " Yes, dear, for ever and ever, all to ourselves." 
 
 " And we sha'n't have to go back to London any 
 more ? " 
 
 " Not to live ; but you would like to go and see 
 daddy's grave, wouldn't you, dear ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Loo doubtfully ; and then eagerly, 
 " Oh ! mammy, isn't it fine ? We sha'n't be hungry 
 no more ; nor go up and down horrid black stairs, 
 with people callin' nasty things to us ; an' you won't 
 cry no more, mammy ? " 
 
 " Hush, dear, you mustn't say that." 
 
 " But I hate London," persisted Loo, " I do — I 
 do hate it." 
 
 They were interrupted by the sound of approach- 
 ing wheels, and Jenny, hurriedly feeling her hair 
 with one hand and brushing her dress with the 
 other, ran to the little gate to welcome Lord and 
 Lady Twickham. Often in their drives they went 
 by the cottage, taking their grandson with them, 
 so that Jenny might comfort herself by kissing his 
 hands and blessing him. And, as time passed, he 
 would sometimes be lifted out of the carriage and 
 taken into the garden, where Loo was privileged to 
 entertain him, the elders looking on. Lord Twickham 
 generally watched in silence, but once he was heard 
 murmuring unconsciously, " We must take better care 
 of him — we must take better care of him." 
 
 His son's death, it was remarked, transformed the 
 stern Lord Twickham. He still kept his place at 
 the head of the Brewery, which prospered more and 
 more. The accomplished man of affairs still met 
 the Earl of Wegron, MacTor, and the rest with the 
 old unfailing keenness ; but in private his face had
 
 Epilogue 347 
 
 often a pensive, wistful look, as if his thoughts were 
 busy with days and scenes now mystically remote. 
 In particular, it was found he had grown tolerant 
 of ways and opinions at which he once scoffed ; and 
 to the amazement of many, who ought to have under- 
 stood him better, he made Vincent's schemes his 
 own. Once when Jenny thanked him for his good- 
 ness, he answered, his eyes moistening, "It is for 
 his sake." 
 
 And the motive which made Jenny a pensioner 
 restored Ingledew, tearfully penitent, to his family ; 
 and finished the Metropolitan Hall of Recreation. 
 When certified complete it was presented a free gift 
 to the people. " In memory of my son," said the 
 donor simply. 
 
 At the same time certain lawyers were instructed 
 to add a codicil (duly authenticated) to a certain 
 will in their possession, whereby it was provided that 
 so long as name or wealth should remain to the 
 House of Twickham, the Hall was not to be suffered 
 to fall into decay, nor to be perverted from the 
 intentions of its founder. So that the world had 
 good reason for remarking the old lord came to 
 be more solicitous about the fulfilment of his lost 
 son's wishes than about the welfare of the great 
 Brewery. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Printed by Haaell, Watson, cS* Vinty, Ld., London and Aylesbury.
 
 1 
 
 J 
 
 J5.
 
 Date Due 
 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 $) 
 
 

 
 PR6037 T473W56 1899 
 Steuart, John Alexander, 
 
 1861- 
 Wine on the lees 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 llllll ililillli 
 
 AA 001 124 576 8 
 
 ^ITY OF CA RIVERSIDE LIBRAfl-t 
 
 3 1210 00660 2336