CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO
 
 A GOOD FIGHT, 
 
 AND OTHER TALES. 
 
 BY CHARLES READE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 'LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG," "PEG WOPFINGTON, 
 " CHRISTIE JOHNSTONE," &c., &c. 
 
 Ittitl) Illttstrationo. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 1859.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NOT a day passes over the earth but men and women 
 of no note do great deeds, speak great words, and suffer 
 noble sorrows. Of these obscure heroes, philosophers, 
 and martyrs, the greater part will never be known till 
 that day, when many that are great shall be small, and 
 the small great : but of others the world's knowledge 
 may be said to sleep. Their lives and characters lie hid- 
 den from nations in the very annals that record them. 
 The general reader can not feel them, they are presented 
 so curtly and coldly : they are not like breathing stories 
 appealing to his heart, but little historic hailstones strik- 
 ing him only to glance off his bosom : nor can he under- 
 stand them ; for epitomes are not narratives, as skeletons 
 are not human figures. 
 
 Thus records of prime truths sometimes remain a dead 
 letter to plain folk ; the writers have left so much to the 
 imagination, and imagination is so rare a gift. Here, 
 then, the writer of fiction may be of use to the public 
 as an interpreter. 
 
 There is a musty chronicle, written in tolerable Latin, 
 and in it a chapter where every sentence holds a fact. 
 Here is told, with harsh brevity, the strange history of 
 a pair, who lived untrumpeted, and died unsung, four 
 hundred years ago; and lie now, as unpitied, in that 
 stern page, as fossils in a rock. Thus, living or dead, 
 fate is still unjust to them. Yet if I can but show you 
 what is involved in that dry chronicler's words, methinks
 
 4 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 you will correct the indifference of centuries, and give 
 those sore-tried souls a place in your heart for a few 
 weeks. 
 
 
 
 It was past the middle of the fifteenth century, Louis 
 XI. was sovereign of France ; Edward IV. was wrongful 
 King of England ; and Philip " the Good," having by 
 force and cunning dispossessed his cousin Jacqueline, and 
 broken her heart, reigned undisturbed this many years 
 in Holland, where our tale begins. 
 
 Gerard, and Catherine his wife, lived in the little town 
 of Tergou. He traded, wholesale and retail, in cloth, 
 silk, brown holland, and, above all, in curried leather, a 
 material highly valued by the middling people, because 
 it would stand twenty years' wear, and turn a knife if 
 not fresh sharpened ; no small virtue in a jerkin of 
 that century, in which folk were so liberal of their steel : 
 even at dinner a man would leave his meat awhile, and 
 carve you his neighbor, on a very moderate difference of 
 opinion. 
 
 The couple were well to do, and would have been free 
 from all earthly care, but for nine children. When these 
 were coming into the world, one per annum, each was 
 hailed with rejoicings, and the Saints were thanked, not 
 expostulated with ; and when parents and children were 
 all young together, the latter were looked upon as lovely 
 little playthings invented by Heaven for the amusement, 
 joy, and evening solace, of people in business. 
 
 But as the olive branches shot up, and the parents 
 grew older, and saw with their own eyes the fate of 
 large families, misgivings and care mingled with their 
 love. They belonged to a singularly wise and provident 
 people : in Holland reckless parents were as rare as dis- 
 obedient children. So now when the huge loaf came in 
 on a gigantic trencher, looking like a fortress in its moat, 
 and, the tour of the table once made, seemed to have 
 melted away, Gerard and Catherine would look at one
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 5 
 
 another and say, "Who is to find bread for them all 
 when we are gone?" 
 
 At this observation the younger ones needed all their 
 filial respect, to keep their little Dutch countenances; 
 for in their humble opinion dinner and supper came by 
 nature like sunrise and sunset, and, so long as that lu- 
 minary should travel round the earth, so long must the 
 brown loaf go round their family circle, and set in their 
 stomachs only to rise again in the family oven. But the 
 remark awakened the national thoughtfulness of the elder 
 boys, and being often repeated set several of the family 
 thinking, some of them good thoughts, some ill thoughts, 
 according to the nature of the thinkers. 
 
 " Kate, the children grow so, this table will soon be 
 too small." 
 
 "We can not afford it, Gerard," replied Catherine, 
 answering not his words, but his thought, after the man- 
 ner of women. 
 
 Their anxiety for the future took at times a less dismal 
 but more mortifying turn. The free burghers had their 
 pride as well as the nobles ; and these two could not bear 
 that any of their blood should go down in the burgh after 
 their decease. 
 
 So by prudence and self-denial they managed to clothe 
 all the little bodies, and feed all the great mouths, and yet 
 put by a small hoard to meet the future ; and, as it grew, 
 and grew, they felt a pleasure the miser hoarding for him- 
 self knows not. 
 
 One day the eldest boy but one, aged nineteen, came 
 to his mother, and, with that outward composure which 
 has so misled some persons as to the real nature of this 
 people, begged her to intercede with his father to send 
 him to Amsterdam, and place him with a merchant. 
 "It is the way of life that likes me: merchants are 
 wealthy ; I am good at numbers ; prithee, good mother, 
 take my part in this, and I shall ever be, as I am now, 
 your debtor."
 
 6 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Catherine threw up her hands with dismay and in- 
 credulity. " What, leave Tergou !" 
 
 "What is one street to me more than another? If 
 I can leave the folk of Tergou, I can surely leave the 
 stones." 
 
 " What ! abandon your poor father now he is no longer 
 young ?" 
 
 " Mother, if I can leave you, I can leave him." 
 
 " What, leave your poor brothers and sisters, that love 
 you so dear ?" 
 
 " There are enough in the house without me." 
 
 " What mean you, Kichart ? Who is more thought of 
 than you ? Stay, have I spoken sharp to you ? Have I 
 been unkind to you ?" 
 
 " Never that I know of; and if you had, you should 
 never hear of it from me. Mother," said Richart grave- 
 ly, but the tear was in his eye, " it all lies in a word. 
 And nothing can change my mind. There will be one 
 mouth less for you to feed." 
 
 "There now, see what my tongue has done," said 
 Catherine, and the next moment she began to cry. For 
 she saw her first young bird on the edge of the nest try- 
 ing his wings, to fly into the world. Richart had a calm, 
 strong will, and she knew he never wasted a word. 
 
 It ended as nature has willed all such discourse shall 
 end : young Richart went to Amsterdam with a face so 
 long and sad as it had never been seen before, and a heart 
 like granite. 
 
 That afternoon at supper there was one mouth less. 
 Catherine looked at Richart's chair and wept bitterly. 
 On this Gerard shouted roughly and angrily to the 
 children, " sit wider ! can't ye : sit wider !" and turned 
 his head away over the back of his seat awhile, and was 
 silent. 
 
 Richart was launched ; and never cost them another 
 penny : but to fit him out and place him in the house of 
 Vander Stegen the merchant took all the little hoard but
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 7 
 
 one gold crown. They began again. Two years passed. 
 Richart found a niche in commerce for his brother Jacob, 
 and Jacob left Tergou directly after dinner, which was 
 at eleven in the forenoon. At supper that day Gerard 
 remembered what had happened the last time ; so he 
 said in a low whisper, " sit wider, dears !" Now until 
 that moment, Catherine would not see the gap at table, 
 for her daughter Catherine had besought her not to 
 grieve to-night and she had said, "No, sweetheart, I 
 promise I will not, since it vexes my children." But 
 when Gerard whispered "sit wider!" says she "Ay! 
 the table will soon be too big for the children : and you 
 thought it would be too small:" and having delivered 
 this with forced calmness, she put up her apron the next 
 moment, and wept sore. 
 
 " 'Tis the best that leave us," sobbed she, " that is the 
 cruel part." 
 
 "Nay! nay!" said Gerard, "our children are good 
 children, and all are dear to us alike. Heed her not ! 
 What God takes from us still seems better than what he 
 spares to us : that is to say, men are by nature unthank- 
 ful and women silly." 
 
 " And I say Richart and Jacob were the flower of the 
 flock," sobbed Catherine. 
 
 The little coffer was empty again, and to fill it they 
 gathered like ants. In those days speculation was pretty 
 much confined to the card-and-dice business. Gerard 
 knew no way to wealth but the slow and sure one. "A 
 penny saved is a penny gained," was his humble creed. 
 All that was not required for the business, and the neces- 
 saries of life, went into the little coffer with steel bands 
 and florid key. They denied themselves in turn the 
 humblest luxuries, and then, catching one another's looks, 
 smiled ; perhaps with a greater joy than self-indulgence 
 has to bestow. And so in three years more they had 
 gleaned enough to set up their fourth son as a master 
 tailor, and their eldest daughter as a robe-maker, in
 
 8 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Tergou. Here were two more provided for : their own 
 trade would enable them to throw work into the hands 
 of this pair. But the coffer was drained to the dregs, 
 and this tune the shop too bled a little in goods if not in 
 com. 
 
 Alas! there remained on hand two that were unable 
 to get their bread, and two that were unwilling. The 
 unable ones were, 1, Giles, a dwarf, of the wrong sort, 
 half stupidity half malice, all head and claws and voice, 
 run from by dogs and unprejudiced females, and sided 
 with through thick and thin by his mother; 2, Little 
 Catherine, a poor girl that could only move on crutches. 
 She lived hi pain, but smiled through it, with her marble 
 face and violet eyes and long silky lashes : and fretful or 
 repining word never came from her lips. The unwilling 
 ones were Sybrandt, the youngest, a ne'er-do-weel, too 
 much in love with play to work, and Cornells, the eldest, 
 who had made calculations of his own, and stuck to the 
 hearth, waiting for dead men's shoes. Almost worn out 
 by their repeated efforts, and above all dispirited by the 
 moral and physical infirmities of those that now remain- 
 ed on hand, the anxious couple would often say, " What 
 will become of all these when we shall be no longer here 
 to take care of them ?" But when they had said this a 
 good many times, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, 
 and then they used still to say it, because a habit is a 
 habit, but they uttered it hah mechanically now instead 
 of despondently, and added brightly and cheerfully, 
 "but thanks to St. Bavon and all the saints, there's 
 Gerard!!" 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 YOUNG Gerard was for many years of his life a son 
 apart and distinct ; object of no fears and no great hopes. 
 No fears ; for he was going into the Church ; and the
 
 A2
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 11 
 
 Church could always maintain her children by hook or 
 by crook in those days : no great hopes, because his fam- 
 ily had no interest with the great to get him a benefice, 
 and the young man's own habits were frivolous, and, in- 
 deed, such as our cloth merchant would not have put up 
 with in any one but a clerk that was to be. His two main 
 trivialities were reading and penmanship, and he was so 
 wrapped up in them that often he could hardly be got 
 away to his meals. The day was never long enough for 
 him: and he carried ever a tinder-box and brimstone 
 matches, and begged ends of candles of the neighbors, 
 which he lighted at unreasonable hours ay, even at 
 eight of the clock at night in winter, when the very Burg- 
 omaster was abed. Endured at home, his practices 
 were encouraged by the monks of a neighboring convent. 
 They had taught him penmanship, and continued to teach 
 him, until one day they discovered, in the middle of a 
 lesson, that he was teaching them. They pointed this 
 out to him in a merry way : he hung his head and blush- 
 ed : he had suspected as much himself, but mistrusted 
 his judgment in that matter. " But, my son," said an 
 elderly monk, " how is it that you, to whom God has 
 given an eye so true, a hand so supple yet firm, and a 
 love of these beautiful crafts, how is it you do not color 
 as well as write ? a scroll looks but barren unless a bor- 
 der of fruit, and leaves, and rich arabesques surround the 
 good words, and charm the sense as those do the soul 
 and understanding ; to say nothing of the pictures of holy 
 men and women departed, with which the several chap- 
 ters should be adorned, and not alone the eye soothed 
 with the brave and sweetly blended colors, but the heart 
 lifted by effigies of the Saints in glory. Answer me, my 
 son." 
 
 At this Gerard was confused, and muttered that he had 
 made several trials at illuminating, but had not succeeded 
 well ; and thus the matter rested. 
 
 Soon after this a fellow-enthusiast came on the scene
 
 12 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 in the unwonted form of an old lady. Margaret, sister 
 and survivor of the brothers Van Eyck, left Flanders, 
 and came to end her days in her native country. She 
 bought a small house near Tergou. In course of time 
 she heard of Gerard, and saw some of his handiwork ; 
 it pleased her so well that she sent her female servant, 
 Richt Heynes, to ask him to come to her. This led to 
 an acquaintance : it could hardly be otherwise, for little 
 Tergou had never held so many as two zealots of this 
 sort before. At first the old lady damped Gerard's cour- 
 age terribly. At each visit she pulled out of holes and 
 corners drawings and paintings, some of them by her 
 own hand, that seemed to him unapproachable ; but if 
 the artist overpowered him, the woman kept his heart up. 
 She and Richt soon turned him inside out like a glove. 
 Among other things, they drew from him what the good 
 monks had failed to hit upon, the reason why he did not 
 illuminate, viz., that he could not afford the gold, the blue, 
 and the red, but only the cheap earths ; and that he was 
 afraid to ask his mother to buy the choice colors, and was 
 sure he should ask her in vain. Then Margaret Van Eyck 
 gave him a little brush-gold, and some vermilion, and ul- 
 tramarine, and a piece of good vellum to lay them on. 
 He almost adored her. As he left the house Richt ran 
 after him with a candle and two quarters : he quite kiss- 
 ed her. But better even than the gold and lapis lazuli 
 to the illuminator was the sympathy to the isolated en- 
 thusiast. That sympathy was always ready, and, as he 
 returned it, an affection sprung up between the old paint- 
 er and the young caligrapher that was doubly character- 
 istic of the time. For this was a century in which the 
 fine arts and the higher mechanical arts were not sepa- 
 rated by any distinct boundary, nor were those who prac- 
 ticed them : and it was an age in which artists sought 
 out and loved one another. Should this last statement 
 stagger a painter or writer of our day, let me remind him 
 that Christians loved one another at first starting.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 13 
 
 Backed by an acquaintance so venerable, and strength- 
 ened by female sympathy, Gerard advanced in learning 
 and skill. His spirits, too, rose visibly : he still looked 
 behind him when dragged to dinner in the middle of an 
 initial G ; but once seated showed great social qualities : 
 likewise a gay humor, that had hitherto but peeped in 
 him, shone out, and often he set the table in a roar, and 
 kept it there, sometimes with his own wit, sometimes with 
 jests which were glossy new to his family, being drawn 
 from antiquity. 
 
 As a return for all he owed his friends the monks, he 
 made them exquisite copies from two of their choicest 
 MSS., viz., the life of their founder, and their Comedies 
 of Terence, the monastery finding the velluni. 
 
 The high and puissant Prince, Philip " the Good," Duke 
 of Burgundy, Luxemburg, and Brabant, Earl of Holland 
 and Zealand, Lord of Friesland, Count of Flanders, Ar- 
 tois, and Hainault, Lord of Salins and Macklyn was 
 versatile. 
 
 He could fight as well as any king going ; and he could 
 lie as well as any except the King of France. He was a 
 mighty hunter, and could read and write. His tastes 
 were wide and ardent. He loved jewels like a woman, 
 and gorgeous apparel. He dearly loved maids of honor, 
 and paintings generally ; in proof of which he ennobled 
 Jan Van Eyck. He had also a particular fancy for giants, 
 dwarfs, and Turks ; these last he had ever about him, 
 turbaned, and blazing with jewels. His agents inveigled 
 them from Istamboul with fair promises : but the moment 
 he had got them he baptized them by brute force in a 
 large tub ; and, this done, let them squat with their faces 
 toward Mecca, and invoke Mahound as much as they 
 pleased, laughing in his sleeve at their simplicity in fan- 
 cying they were still infidels. He had lions hi cages, and 
 fleet leopards trained by orientals to run down hares and 
 deer. In short, he relished all rarities, except humdrum
 
 14 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 virtues. For any thing singularly pretty, or diabolically 
 ugly, this was your customer. The best of him was, he 
 was open-handed to the poor ; and the next best was, he 
 fostered the arts in earnest : whereof he now gave a sig- 
 nal proof. He offered prizes for the best specimens of 
 " orfevrerie" in two kinds, religious and secular ; item for 
 the best paintings in white of egg, oils, and tempera; 
 these to be on panel, silk, or metal as the artists chose : 
 item for the best transparent painting on glass : item for 
 the best illuminating and border-painting on vellum : item 
 for the fairest writing on vellum. The Burgomasters of 
 the several towns were commanded to aid all the poorer 
 competitors by receiving their specimens and sending 
 them with due care to Rotterdam at the expense of their 
 several burghs. When this was cried by the bellman 
 through the streets of Tergou, a thousand mouths opened, 
 and one heart beat Gerard's. He told his family he 
 should try for two of those prizes. They stared in silence, 
 for their breath was gone at his conceit and audacity : 
 but one horrid laugh exploded on the floor like a petard. 
 Gerard looked down, and there was the dwarf, whose very 
 whisper was a bassoon, slit and fanged from ear to ear at 
 his expense, and laughing like a lion. Nature relenting 
 at having made Giles so small, had given him as a set-off 
 the biggest voice on record. He was like those stunted 
 wide-mouthed pieces of ordnance we see on fortifications ; 
 they are more like a flower-pot than a cannon ; but ods 
 tympana how they bellow ! 
 
 Gerard turned red with anger, the more so as the oth- 
 ers began to titter. White Catherine saw, and a pink 
 tinge just perceptible came to her cheek. She said softly, 
 " Why do you laugh ? Is it because he is our brother 
 you think he can not be capable. Yes, Gerard, try with 
 the rest. Many say you are skillful ; and mother and I 
 will pray the Virgin to guide your hand." 
 
 " Thank you, little Kate. You shall pray to our Lady, 
 and our mother shall buy vellum and the colors to illu- 
 minate with."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 15 
 
 " What will they cost ?" 
 
 "Two gold crowns" (about three shillings and four- 
 pence English money). 
 
 " What ?" screamed the housewife ; " when the bushel 
 of rye costs but a groat ! What ! me spend a month's 
 meal and meat and fire "on such vanity as that : the light- 
 ning from Heaven would fall on me, and my children 
 would all be beggars." 
 
 " Mother !" sighed little Catherine, imploringly. 
 
 " Oh ! it is in vain, Kate," said Gerard, with a sigh. 
 " I shall have to give it up, or ask the dame Van Eyck. 
 She would give it me, but I think shame to be forever 
 taking from her." 
 
 " It is not her affair," said Catherine, very sharply ; 
 " what has she to do coming between me and my son ?" 
 And she left the room with a red face. Little Catherine 
 smiled. Presently the housewife returned with a gra- 
 cious, affectionate air, and the two little gold pieces in 
 her hand. 
 
 " There, sweetheart," said she, " you won't have to 
 trouble dame or demoiselle for two paltry crowns." 
 
 But on this Gerard fell a thinking how he could spare 
 her purse. 
 
 " One will do, mother. I will ask the good monks to 
 let me send my copy of their ' Terence :' it is on snowy 
 vellum, and I can write no better: so then I shall only 
 need six sheets of vellum for my borders and miniatures, 
 and gold for my ground, and prime colors one crown 
 will do." 
 
 " Never spoil the ship for want of a bit of tar, Gerard," 
 said this changeable mother. But she added, "Well, 
 there, I will put the crown in my pocket. That won't 
 be like putting it back in the box. Going to the box to 
 take out instead of putting in it is like going to my 
 heart with a knife for so many drops of blood. You will 
 be sure to want it, Gerard. The house is never built for 
 less than the builder counted on."
 
 16 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Sure enough, when the time came, Gerard longed to 
 go to Rotterdam and see the Duke, and above all to see 
 the work of his competitors, and so get a lesson from de- 
 feat. And the crown came out of the housewife's pocket 
 with a very good grace. Gerard would soon be a priest. 
 It seemed hard if he might not enjoy the world a little 
 before separating himself from it for life. 
 
 The day before he went, Margaret Van Eyck asked 
 him to take a letter for her, and when he came to look 
 at it, somewhat to his surprise he found it was addressed 
 to the Princess Marie, at the Stadthouse, in Rotterdam. 
 
 The day before the prizes were to be distributed, Ge- 
 rard started for Rotterdam thus equipped ; he had a doub- 
 let of silver-gray cloth with sleeves, and a jerkin of the 
 same over it, but without sleeves. From his waist to his 
 heels he was clad in a pair of tight-fitting buckskin hose 
 fastened by laces (called points) to his doublet. His 
 shoes were pointed, in moderation, and secured by a strap 
 that passed under the hollow of the foot. On his head 
 and the back of his neck he wore his flowing hair, and 
 pinned to his back between his shoulders was his hat : it 
 was farther secured by a purple silk ribbon little Kate 
 had passed round him from the sides of the hat, and knot- 
 ted neatly on his breast ; below his hat, attached to the 
 upper rim of his broad waist belt, was his leathern wal- 
 let. When he got within a league of Rotterdam he was 
 pretty tired, but he soon fell in with a pair that were 
 more so. He found an old man sitting by the road-side 
 quite worn out, and a comely young woman holding his 
 hand, with a face full of concern. The country people 
 trudged by and noticed nothing amiss : but Gerard, as 
 he passed, drew conclusions. Even dress tells a tale to 
 those who study it so closely as our illuminator was wont 
 to. The old man wore a gown, and a fur tippet, and a 
 velvet cap, sure signs of dignity : but the triangular purse 
 at his girdle was lean, the gown rusty, the fur worn, sure 
 signs of poverty. The young woman was dressed in plain
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 17 
 
 russet cloth : yet snow- white lawn covered that part of 
 her neck the gown left visible, and ended half way up her 
 white throat in a little band of gold embroidery : and 
 her headdress was new to Gerard ; instead of hiding her 
 hair in a pile of linen or lawn, she wore an open net- work 
 of silver cord with silver spangles at the interstices : in 
 this her glossy auburn hair was rolled hi front into a solid 
 wave, and supported behind in a luxurious and shapely 
 mass. His quick eye took in all this, and the old man's 
 deadly pallor, and the tears in the young woman's eyes. 
 So when he had passed them a few yards, he reflected, 
 and turned back, and came toward them bashfully. 
 
 " Father, I fear you are tired." 
 
 " Indeed, my son, I am," replied the old man ; " and 
 faint for lack of food." 
 
 Gerard's address did not appear so agreeable to the 
 girl as to the old man. She seemed ashamed, and with 
 much reserve in her manner said, that it was her fault ; 
 she had underrated the distance, and imprudently allowed 
 her father to start too late in the day. 
 
 " No ! no !" said the old man ; " it is not the distance, 
 it is the want of nourishment." 
 
 The girl put her arms round his neck, with tender 
 concern, but took that opportunity of whispering, " Fa- 
 ther, a stranger a young man !" 
 
 But it was too late. Gerard, with great simplicity, 
 and quite as a matter of course, fell to gathering sticks 
 with great expedition. This done, he took down his 
 wallet, out with the manchet of bread and the iron flask 
 his careful mother had put up, and his everlasting tinder- 
 box ; lighted a match, then a candle-end, then the sticks ; 
 and put his iron flask on it. Then down he went on his 
 stomach and took a good blow : then looking up, he saw 
 the girl's face had thawed, and she was looking down at 
 him and his energy with a demure smile. He laughed 
 back to her : " Mind the pot," said he, " and don't let it 
 spill, for Heaven's sake: there's a cleft stick to hold it
 
 18 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 safe with ;" and with this he set off running toward a 
 corn-field at some distance. While he was gone, there 
 came by, on a mule with rich purple housings, an old 
 man redolent with wealth. The purse at his girdle was 
 plethoric, the fur on his tippet was ermine, broad and 
 new. 
 
 It was Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, the Burgomaster of 
 Tergou. He was old, and his face furrowed. He was a 
 notorious miser, and looked one generally. But the idea 
 of supping with the Duke raised him just now into man- 
 ifest complacency. Yet at the sight of the faded old 
 man and his bright daughter sitting by a fire of sticks, 
 the smile died out of his face, and he wore a strange 
 look of anguish and wrath. He reined in his mule. 
 " Why, Peter Margaret " said he almost fiercely, 
 " what mummery is this !" Peter was going to answer, 
 but Margaret interposed hastily, and said : " My father 
 was exhausted, so I am warming something to give him 
 strength before we go on." " What, reduced to feed by 
 the road-side like the Bohemians," said Ghysbrecht, and 
 his hand went into his purse : but it did not seem at 
 home there, it fumbled uncertainly, afraid too large a 
 coin might stick to a finger and come out. 
 
 At this moment, who should come bounding up but 
 Gerard. He had two straws in his hand, and he threw 
 himself down by the fire, and relieved Margaret of the 
 cooking part : then suddenly recognizing the Burgomas- 
 ter, he colored all over. Ghysbrecht Van Swieten started 
 and glared at him, and took his hand out of his purse. 
 " Oh," said he bitterly, " I am not wanted :" and went 
 slowly on, casting a long look of suspicion on Margaret, 
 and hostility on Gerard, that was not very intelligible. 
 However, there was something about it that Margaret 
 could read enough to blush at, and almost toss her head. 
 Gerard only stared with surprise. " By St. Bavon, I think 
 the old miser grudges us three our quart of soup," said 
 he. When the young man put that interpretation on
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 19 
 
 Ghysbrecht's strange and meaning look, Margaret was 
 greatly relieved, and smiled gayly on the speaker. 
 
 Meantime Ghysbrecht plodded on more wretched hi 
 his wealth than these in their poverty. And the curious 
 thing is that the mule, the purple housings, and one half 
 the coin in that plethoric purse, belonged not to Ghys- 
 brecht Van Swieten, but to that faded old man and that 
 comely girl, who sat by a road-side fire to be fed by a 
 stranger." They did not know this, but Ghysbrecht knew 
 it, and carried in his heart a scorpion of his own beget- 
 ting. That scorpion is remorse ; the remorse, that, not 
 being penitence, is incurable, and ready for fresh mis- 
 deeds upon a fresh temptation. 
 
 Twenty years ago, when Ghysbrecht Van Swieten was 
 a hard but honest man, the touch-stone opportunity came 
 to him, and he did an act of heartless roguery. It seemed 
 a safe one. It had hitherto proved a safe one, though he 
 had never felt safe. To-day he has seen youth, enter- 
 prise, and, above all, knowledge, seated by fair Margaret 
 and her father on terms that look familiar and loving. 
 
 And the fiends are at his ear again. 
 
 CHAPTER IE. 
 
 " THE soup is hot," said Gerard. 
 
 " But how are we to swallow it ?" inquired the senior, 
 despondingly. 
 
 " Father, the young man has brought us straws." And 
 Margaret smiled slily. 
 
 " Ay, ay !" said the old man : " but my poor bones are 
 stiff, and indeed the fire is too hot for a body to kneel 
 over with these short straws. St. John the Baptist ! but 
 the young man is adroit." 
 
 For, while he stated his difficulty, Gerard removed it. 
 He untied in a moment the knot on his breast, took his 
 hat off his back, put three stones into the corner, then,
 
 20 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 wrapping his hand in the tail of his jerkin, whipped the 
 flask off the fire, wedged it in between the stones, and 
 put the hat under the old man's nose with a merry smile. 
 The other tremulously inserted the pipe of rye-straw and 
 sucked. Lo and behold his wan, drawn face was seen to 
 light up more and more, till it quite glowed ; and, as soon 
 as he had drawn a long breath : 
 
 " Hippocrates and Galen !" he cried, " 'tis a ' soupe au 
 vin' the restorative of restoratives. Blessed be the na- 
 tion that invented it, and the woman that made it, and 
 the young man who brings it to fainting folk. Have a 
 suck, my girl, while I relate to our host the history and 
 virtues of this his sovereign compound. This corrobo- 
 rative, young sir, was not known to the ancients : we find 
 it neither in their treatises of medicine, nor in those pop- 
 ular narratives, which reveal many of their remedies, 
 both in chirurgery and medicine proper. Hector, in the 
 Hias, if my memory does not play me false " 
 
 Margaret. " Alas ! he's off." 
 
 " was invited by one of the ladies in the poem to 
 drink a draught of wine ; but he declined, on the plea 
 that he was just going into battle, and must not take 
 aught to weaken his powers. Now, if the ' soupe au vin' 
 had been known in Troy, it is clear that in declining ' vi- 
 num merum' on that score, he would have added in the 
 next hexameter, ' But a " soupe au vin," madam, I will 
 degust, and gratefully.' Not only would this have been 
 but common civility a virtue no perfect commander is 
 wanting in but not to have done it would have proved 
 him a shallow and improvident person, quite unfit to be 
 trusted with the conduct of a war ; for men going into 
 battle need sustenance and ah 1 possible support, as is 
 proved by this that foolish generals, bringing hungry 
 soldiers to battle with full ones, have been defeated, in 
 all ages, by inferior numbers. The Romans lost a great 
 battle in the north of Italy to Hannibal the Carthaginian, 
 by this neglect alone. Now, this divine elixir gives in
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 21 
 
 one moment force to the limbs and ardor to the spirits ; 
 and taken into Hector's body at the nick of time, would, 
 by the aid of Phoebus, Venus, and the blessed saints, have 
 most likely procured the Greeks a defeat. For, note 
 how faint and weary and heart-sick I was a minute ago ; 
 well, I suck this celestial cordial, and now behold me 
 brave as Achilles and strong as an eagle." 
 
 " Oh father ! now, an eagle !" 
 
 " Girl, I defy thee and all the world. Ready, I say, 
 like a foaming charger, to devour the space between this 
 and Rotterdam, and strong to combat the ills of life, 
 even poverty and old age, which last philosophers have 
 called the 'summum malum.' Negatur; unless the 
 man's life has been ill-spent which, by-the-by, it gen- 
 erally has. Now for the moderns." 
 
 "Father! dear father!" 
 
 " Fear me not, girl, I will be brief, beyond measure 
 brief. The ' soupe au vin' occurs not in modern science ; 
 but this is only one proof more, if proof were needed, 
 that for the last few hundred years physicians have all 
 been idiots, with their chicken broth and their dococ- 
 tion of gold, whereby they attribute the highest qualities 
 to that meat which has the least juice of any meat, and 
 to that metal which has less chemical qualities than all 
 the metals. Mountebanks ! dunces ! homicides ! Since, 
 then, from these no light is to be gathered, we must go 
 to the chroniclers ; and first we find that Duguesclin, a 
 French knight, being about to join battle with the En- 
 glish masters, at that time, of half France, and sturdy 
 strikers by sea and land drank, not one, but three 
 ' soupes au vin,' in honor of the Blessed Trinity. This 
 done, he charged the islanders ; and as might have been 
 expected, killed a multitude of them, and drove the rest 
 into the sea. But he was only the first of a long list of 
 holy and hard-hitting ones who have, by this divine re- 
 storative, been sustentated, fortified, corroborated, and 
 consoled."
 
 22 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " Dear father, prithee add thyself to that list before 
 the soup cools." And Margaret held the hat imploring- 
 ly in both hands till he inserted the straw once more. 
 
 This spared them the "modern instances," and gave 
 Gerard an opportunity of telling Margaret how proud 
 his mother would be her soup had profited a man of 
 learning. 
 
 " Ay ! but," said Margaret, " it would like her ill to see 
 her son give all and take none himself. Why brought 
 you but two straws ?" 
 
 " Fair mistress, I hoped you would let me put my lips 
 to your straw, there being but two." 
 
 Margaret smiled, and blushed. " Never beg that you 
 may command," said she. " The straw is not mine 'tis 
 yours : you cut it in yonder field." 
 
 " I cut it, and that made it mine ; but, after that, your 
 lip touched it, and that made it yours." 
 
 " Did it ? Then I will lend it to you. There now it 
 is yours again : your lip has touched it." 
 
 " No, it belongs to us both now. Let us divide it." 
 
 " By all means ; you have a knife." 
 
 " No, I will not cut it that would be unlucky. I'll 
 bite it. There. I shall keep my half: you will burn 
 yours the moment you get home, I doubt." 
 
 "You know me not. I waste nothing. It is odds 
 but I make a hair-pin of it, or something." 
 
 This answer dashed the novice Gerard instead of pro- 
 voking him to fresh efforts, and he was silent. And now, 
 the bread and soup being disposed of, the old scholar 
 prepared to continue his journey. Then came a little 
 difficulty: Gerard the adroit could not tie his ribbon 
 again as Catherine had tied it. Margaret, after slily ey- 
 ing his efforts for some time, offered to help him ; for at 
 her age girls love to be coy and tender, saucy and gen- 
 tle, by turns, and she saw she had put him out of coun- 
 tenance but now. Then a fair head, with its stately 
 crown of auburn hair, glossy and glowing through sil-
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 23 
 
 ver, bowed sweetly toward him ; and, while it ravished 
 his eye, two white supple hands played delicately upon 
 the stubborn ribbon, and moulded it with soft and airy 
 touches. Then a heavenly thrill ran through the inno- 
 cent young man, and vague glimpses of a new world of 
 feeling and sentiment opened on him. And these new 
 and exquisite sensations Margaret unwittingly prolonged : 
 it is not natural to her sex to hurry aught that pertains 
 to the sacred toilet. Nay, when the taper fingers had at 
 last subjugated the ends of the knot, her mind was not 
 quite easy till, by a manoeuvre peculiar to the female 
 hand, she had made her palm convex, and so applied it 
 with a gentle pressure to the centre of the knot a sweet 
 little coaxing hand-kiss, as much as to say, " Now be a 
 good knot, and stay as you are." The palm-kiss was be- 
 stowed on the ribbon, but the wearer's heart leaped to 
 meet it. 
 
 " There, that is how it was," said Margaret, and drew 
 back to take one last keen survey of her work ; then, 
 looking up for simple approval of her skill, received full 
 in her eyes a longing gaze of such ardent adoration, as 
 made her lower them quickly and color all over. An 
 indescribable tremor seized her, and she retreated with 
 downcast lashes and tell-tale cheeks, and took her fa- 
 ther's arm on the opposite side. Gerard, blushing at 
 having scared her with his eyes, took the other arm ; 
 and so the two young things went downcast and "con- 
 scious, and propped the eagle along in silence. 
 
 They entered Rotterdam by the Schiedamze Poort ; 
 and, as Gerard was unacquainted with the town, Peter 
 directed him the way to the Hooch Straet, in which the 
 Stadthouse was. He himself was going with Margaret 
 to his cousin, in the Ooster "Waagen Straet ; so almost 
 on entering the gate, their roads lay apart. They bade 
 each other a friendly adieu, and Gerard dived into the 
 great town. A profound, an aching sense of solitude, 
 fell upon him, yet the streets were crowded. Then he
 
 24 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 lamented too late that, out of delicacy, he had not asked 
 his late companions who they were and where they 
 lived. 
 
 " Beshrew my shamefacedness !" said he. " But their 
 words and their breeding were above their means, and 
 something whispered me they would not be known. I 
 shall never see her more. Oh ! weary world, I hate you 
 and your ways. To think I must meet beauty and good- 
 ness and learning three pearls of price and never see 
 them more !" 
 
 Falling into this sad reverie, and letting his body go 
 where it would, he lost his way ; but presently meeting 
 a crowd of persons ah 1 moving in one direction, he min- 
 gled with them, for he argued they must be making for 
 the Stadthouse. Soon the noisy troop that contained 
 the moody Gerard emerged, not upon the Stadthouse, 
 but upon a large meadow by the side of the Maas ; and 
 then the attraction was at once revealed. Games of all 
 sorts were going on : wrestling, the game of palm, the 
 quintain, legerdemain, archery, tumbling, in which art, 
 I blush to say, women as well as men performed, to the 
 great delectation of the company. There was also a 
 trained bear, which stood on his head, and stood upright 
 and bowed with prodigious gravity to his master ; and a 
 hare that beat a drum, and a cock that strutted on little 
 stilts disdainfully. These things made Gerard laugh now 
 and then ; but the gay scene could not really enliven it, 
 for his heart was not in tune with it. So, hearing a 
 young man say to his fellow that the Duke had been in 
 the meadow, but was gone to the Stadthouse to enter- 
 tain the burgomasters and aldermen and the competitors 
 for the prizes, and their friends, he suddenly remembered 
 he was hungry, and should like to sup with a prince. 
 He left the river-side, and this time he found the Hooch 
 Straet, and it speedily led him to the Stadthouse. But 
 when he got there he was refused, first at one door, then 
 at another, till he came to the great gate of the court-
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 25 
 
 yard. It was kept by soldiers, and superintended by a 
 pompous major-domo, glittering in an embroidered collar 
 and a gold chain of office, and holding a white staff with 
 a gold knob. There was a crowd of persons at the gate 
 endeavoring to soften this official rock. They came up 
 in turn like ripples, and retired to make way for others 
 equally unsuccessful. It cost Gerard a struggle to get 
 near him, and when he got within four heads of the gate, 
 he saw something that made his heart beat : there was 
 Peter, with Margaret on his arm, soliciting humbly for 
 entrance. 
 
 " My cousin the alderman is not at home. They say 
 he is here." 
 
 " What is that to me, old man ?" 
 
 "If you will not let us pass in to him, at least take 
 this leaf from my tablet to my cousin. See, I have writ- 
 ten his name : he will come out to us." 
 
 " For what do you take me ? I carry no messages. I 
 keep the gate." 
 
 He then bawled, in a stentorian voice, inexorably : 
 
 "No strangers enter here but the competitors and 
 their companies." 
 
 " Come, old man," cried a voice in the crowd, " you 
 have gotten your answer ; make way." 
 
 Margaret turned half round imploringly : 
 
 " Good people ! we are come from far, and my father 
 is old ; and my cousin has a new servant that knows us 
 not, and would not let us sit in our cousin's house." 
 
 At this the crowd laughed hoarsely. Margaret shrank 
 as if they had struck her. At that moment a hand 
 grasped hers such a grasp: it felt like heart meeting 
 heart, or magnet steel. She turned quickly round at it, 
 and it was Gerard. Such a little cry of joy and appeal 
 came from her bosom, and she began to whimper pret- 
 tily: 
 
 They had hustled her and frightened her for one thing ; 
 and her cousin's thoughtlessness in not even telling his 
 
 B
 
 26 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 servant they were coming was cruel ; and the servant's 
 caution, however wise and faithful to his master, was 
 bitterly mortifying to her father and her. And to her 
 so mortified, and anxious and jostled came suddenly 
 this kind hand and face. " Hinc illse lacrimse." 
 
 " All is well now," remarked a coarse humorist ; " she 
 has gotten her sweetheart." 
 
 " Haw ! haw ! haw !" went the crowd. 
 
 She dropped Gerard's hand directly, and turned round, 
 with eyes flashing through her tears : 
 
 "I have no sweetheart, you rude men. But I am 
 friendless in your boorish town, and this is a friend ; and 
 one who knows, what you know not, how to treat the 
 aged and the weak." 
 
 The crowd was dead silent. They had only been 
 thoughtless, and now felt the rebuke, though severe, was 
 just. The silence enabled Gerard to treat with the por- 
 ter. 
 
 " I am a competitor, sir." 
 
 " "What is your name ?" and the man eyed him sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 " Gerard, the son of Gerard." 
 
 The janitor inspected a slip of parchment he held in 
 his hand : 
 
 " Gerard Gerardssoen can enter." 
 
 " With my company these two ?" 
 
 " Nay ; those are not your company : they came before 
 you." 
 
 " What matter ? they are my friends, and without 
 them I go not in." 
 
 " Stay without, then." 
 
 " That will I not." 
 
 " That we will see." 
 
 " We will, and speedily." 
 
 Gerard then raised a voice of astounding volume and 
 power, and shouted, so that the whole street rang : 
 
 " Ho ! PHILIP EAEL OP HOLLAND !"
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 29 
 
 " Are you mad ?" 
 
 " HERE is ONE OF YOUR TABLETS DEFIES YOU." 
 
 "Hush, hush!" 
 
 " AND WILL NOT LET YOUR GUESTS PASS IN." 
 
 "Hush! murder! The Duke's there! I'm dead!" 
 cried the janitor, quaking. 
 
 Then suddenly trying to overpower Gerard's thunder, 
 he shouted, with all his lungs : 
 
 "OPEN THE GATE, YE KNAVES ! WAY THERE FOR 
 
 GERARD GERARDSSOEN AND HIS COMPANY ! (the fiends go 
 with him !)" 
 
 The gate swung open as by magic. Eight soldiers 
 lowered their pikes half way, and made an arch, under 
 which the victorious three marched in triumphant. The 
 moment they had passed, the pikes clashed together 
 horizontally to bar the gateway, and all but pinned an 
 abdominal citizen that sought to be of Gerard's company 
 unbidden. 
 
 Once passed the guarded portal, a few steps brought 
 the trio upon a scene of Oriental luxury. The court- 
 yard was laid out in tables loaded with rich meats, and 
 literally piled with gorgeous plate. Guests in rich and 
 vaiious costumes sat beneath a leafy canopy of fresh-cut 
 branches fastened tastefully to golden, silver, and blue 
 silken cords that traversed the area ; and fruits of many 
 hues, including some artificial ones of gold, silver, and 
 wax, hung pendent, or peeped, like fair eyes, among the 
 green leaves of plane-trees and lime-trees. The Duke's 
 minstrels swept their lutes 'at intervals, and a fountain 
 played red Burgundy in six jets that met and battled in 
 the air. The evening sun darted its fires through those 
 bright and purple wine spouts, making them jets and 
 cascades of molten rubies, then passing on, tinged with 
 the blood of the grape, shed crimson glories here and 
 there on fair faces, snowy beards, velvet, satin, jeweled 
 hilts, glowing gold, gleaming silver, and sparkling glass. 
 Gerard and his friends stood dazzled, spell-bound. Pres-
 
 30 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 ently a whisper buzzed round them, " Salute the Duke ! 
 Salute the Duke !" They looked up, and there on high, 
 under the dais, was their sovereign, bidding them wel- 
 come with a kindly wave of the hand. The men bowed 
 low, and Margaret courtesied with a deep and graceful 
 obeisance. The Duke's hand being up he gave it another 
 turn, and pointed the new-comers out to a knot of valets. 
 Instantly seven of his people, with an obedient start, 
 went headlong at our friends, seated them at a table, 
 and put fifteen many-colored soups before them, in little 
 silver bowls, and as many wines in crystal vases. 
 
 " Nay, father, do not let us eat until we have thanked 
 our good friend," said Margaret, now first recovering 
 from all this bustle. 
 
 " Girl, he is our guardian angel." 
 
 Gerard put his face into his hands. 
 
 " Tell me when you have done," said he, " and I will 
 reappear and have my supper, for I am hungry. I know 
 which of us three is the happiest at meeting again." 
 
 " Me ?" inquired Margaret. 
 
 "No: guess again." 
 
 "Father?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then I have no idea which it can be ;" and she gave 
 a little crow of happiness and gayety. The soup was 
 tasted, and vanished in a twirl of fourteen hands, and 
 fish came on the table in a dozen forms, with patties of 
 lobster and almonds mixed, and of almonds and cream, 
 and an immense variety of " brouets," known to us as 
 " rissoles." The next trifle was a wild boar, which smelt 
 divine. Why, then, did Margaret start away from it 
 with two shrieks of dismay, and pinch so good a friend 
 as Gerard? Because the Duke's "cuisinier" had been 
 too clever ; had made this excellent dish too captivating 
 to the sight as well as taste. He had restored to the 
 animal, by elaborate mimicry with burned sugar and 
 other edible colors, the hair and bristles he had robbed
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 31 
 
 him of by fire and water. To make him still more en- 
 ticing, the huge tusks were carefully preserved in the 
 brute's jaw, and gave his mouth that winning smile you 
 may have noticed as a result of tusk in man or beast, 
 and two eyes of colored sugar glowed in his head. St. 
 Argus ! what eyes ! so bright, so bloodshot, so threaten- 
 ing they followed a man and his every movement. 
 But, indeed, I need the pencil of my artist associate to 
 make you see the two gilt valets on the opposite side of the 
 table putting the monster down before our friends, with 
 a smiling, self-satisfied, benevolent obsequiousness for 
 this ghastly monster was the flower of all comestibles ; 
 old Peter clasping both hands in pious admiration of it ; 
 Margaret wheeling round with horror-stricken eyes and 
 her hand on Gerard's shoulder, squeaking and pinching ; 
 his face of foolish delight at being pinched, the grizzly 
 brute glaring sulkily on all, and the guests grinning from 
 ear to ear. 
 
 " What's to do ?" shouted the Duke, hearing the sig- 
 nals of distress. Seven of his people with a zealous start 
 went headlong and told him. He laughed, and said, 
 " Give her of the beef-stuffing, then, and bring me Sir 
 Boar." Benevolent monarch ! The beef-stuffing was 
 his own private dish. 
 
 On these grand occasions an ox was roasted whole, 
 and reserved for the poor. But this wise as well as 
 charitable prince had discovered, that whatever venison, 
 hares, lamb, poultry, etc., you skewered into that beef 
 cavern, got cooked to perfection, retaining their own 
 juices and receiving those of the reeking ox. These he 
 called his beef-stuffing, and took delight therein, as did 
 now our trio ; for at his word, seven of his people went 
 headlong, and drove silver tridents into the steaming 
 cave at random, and speared a kid, a cygnet, and a flock 
 of wild fowl. These presently smoked before Gerard 
 and company ; and Peter's face, profoundly sad and 
 slightly morose at the loss of the savage hog, expanded
 
 32 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 and shone. After this, twenty different tarts of fruits 
 and herbs, and last of all, confectionery on a Titanic 
 scale cathedrals of sugar, all gilt and painted in the 
 interstices of the bas-reliefs; castles with their moats, 
 and ditches, imitated to the life ; elephants, camels, toads ; 
 knights on horseback justing ; kings and princesses look- 
 ing on; trumpeters blowing; and ah 1 these characters 
 delicious eating, and their veins filled with sweet-scented 
 juices works of art made to be destroyed. The guests 
 breached a bastion, crunched a crusader and his horse 
 and lance, or cracked a Bishop, cope, chasuble, crosier 
 and all, as remorselessly as we do a caraway comfit; 
 sipping, meanwhile, hippocras and other spiced drinks, 
 and Greek and Corsican wines, while every now and then 
 little Turkish boys, turbaned, spangled, jeweled, and gilt, 
 came offering on bended knee golden troughs of rose- 
 water and orange-water to keep the guests' hands cool 
 and perfumed. 
 
 But long before our party arrived at this final stage, 
 appetite had succumbed, and one or two circumstances 
 had occurred apparently trifling. Gerard had suddenly 
 remembered he was the bearer of a letter to the Princess 
 Marie, and, in an under tone, had asked one of the serv- 
 ants if he would undertake to deliver it. The man took 
 it with a deep obeisance : " He could not deliver it him- 
 self, but would instantly give it to one of the princess's 
 suite, several of whom were about." 
 
 It may be remembered that Peter and Margaret came 
 here not to dine, but to find their cousin. Well, the old 
 gentleman ate heartily, and being much fatigued dropped 
 asleep, and forgot all about his cousin. Margaret did 
 not remind him, we shall hear why. 
 
 Meantime, their cousin, William Johnson, alderman of 
 Rotterdam, was seated within a few feet of them, at their 
 backs, and discovered them when Margaret turned round 
 and screamed at the boar. But he did not speak to them, 
 for the following reason. Margaret was very plainly dress-
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 33 
 
 ed, and Peter inclined to threadbare. So the alderman 
 said: 
 
 " 'Twill be time to make up to them when the sun sets 
 and the company disperses: then I will take my poor 
 relations to my house, and none will be the wiser." 
 
 Half the courses were lost on Gerard and Margaret. 
 They were no great eaters, and just now were feeding on 
 sweet thoughts that have ever been unfavorable to ap- 
 petite. And it was a relief to them when the dessert 
 came and the valets retired a few steps, and they could 
 talk without being overheard. But there is a delicate 
 kind of sensuality, to whose influence these two were 
 perhaps more sensitive than any other pair in that as- 
 sembly ; the delights of color, music, and perfume, all of 
 which blended so fascinatingly here. 
 
 Margaret leaned back and half closed her eyes, and 
 murmured to Gerard : " What a lovely scene ! the warm 
 sun, the green shade, the rich dresses, the bright music 
 of the lutes and the cool music of the fountain, and all 
 faces so happy and gay ! and it is to you we owe it." 
 
 Gerard was silent. 
 
 " Now, don't speak to me," said Margaret languidly, 
 " let me listen to the fountain : what are you a compet- 
 itor for?" 
 
 He told her. 
 
 " Very well ! You will gain one prize, at least." 
 
 " "Which ? which ? have you seen any of my work ?" 
 
 " I ? no. But you will gain a prize." 
 
 " I hope so : but what makes you think so ?" 
 
 " Because you were so good to my father." 
 
 Gerard smiled at the feminine logic, and hung his head 
 at the sweet praise, and was silent. 
 
 " Don't speak," murmured Margaret. " They say this 
 is a world of sin and misery. Can that be ? What is 
 your opinion ?" 
 
 " No ! that is all a silly old song," explained Gerard. 
 B2
 
 34 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " 'Tis a by-word our elders keep repeating out of custom 
 it is not true." 
 
 " How can you know ? you are but a child," said Mar- 
 garet, with pensive dignity. 
 
 " Why only look round ! And then I thought I had 
 lost you forever ; and you are by my side : and now 
 the minstrels are going to play again. Sin and misery ? 
 Stuff and nonsense !" 
 
 "What do you admire most of all these beautiful 
 things, Gerard?" 
 
 " You know my name ? How is that ?" 
 
 " White magic. I am a witch." 
 
 "Angels are never witches. But I can't think how 
 you" 
 
 " Foolish boy ! was it not cried at the gate loud enough 
 to deafen one ?" 
 
 " So it was. Where is my head ? What do I admire 
 most ? If you will sit a little more that way, I'll tell 
 you." 
 
 "This way?" 
 
 " Yes ! so that the light may fall on you. There. I see 
 many beautiful things here, more beautiful than I could 
 have conceived ; but the finest of all to my eye, is your 
 lovely hair in its silver frame, and the setting sun kissing 
 it. It minds me of what the Vulgate praised for beauty, 
 ' an apple of gold in a net-work of silver J and, Oh what a 
 pity I did not know you before I sent in my poor efforts 
 at illuminating ! I could illuminate so much better now. 
 I could do every thing better. There, now the sun is 
 full on it, it is like an aureole. So our Lady looked, and 
 none since her until to-day." 
 
 "Oh fie! it is wicked to talk so. Compare a poor, 
 coarse-favored girl like me with the Queen of Heaven ! 
 Oh Gerard ! I thought you were a good young man." 
 
 " So I am. But I can't help having eyes and a heart 
 Margaret."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 35 
 
 " Gerard ?" 
 
 " Don't be angry !" 
 
 "Now, is it likely?" 
 
 " I love you." 
 
 " Oh for shame ! you must not say that to me." 
 
 " I can't help it. I love you. I love you." 
 
 " Hush, hush ! for pity's sake ! I must not 'listen to 
 such words from a stranger. I am ungrateful to call 
 you a stranger. Oh how one may be mistaken ! if I had 
 known you were so bold " And Margaret's bosom be- 
 gan to heave, and her cheeks were covered with blushes, 
 and she looked toward her sleeping father, very much 
 like a timid thing that meditates actual flight. 
 
 Then Gerard was frightened at the alarm he caused. 
 " Forgive me," said he imploringly. " How could any 
 one help loving you !" 
 
 " Well, sir, I will try and forgive you you are so good 
 in other respects ; but then you must promise never to 
 say you to say that again." 
 
 " Give me your hand then, or you don't forgive me." 
 
 She hesitated ; but eventually put out her hand a very 
 little way, very slowly. He took it, and held it prisoner. 
 When she thought it had been there long enough, she 
 tried gently to draw it away. He held it tight : it sub- 
 mitted quite patiently to force. What is the use of re- 
 sisting force ? She turned her head away, and her long 
 eyelashes drooped sweetly. Gerard lost nothing by his 
 promise. Words were not needed here : and silence was 
 more eloquent. Nature was in that day what she is in 
 ours ; but manners were somewhat freer. Then, as now, 
 virgins drew back alarmed at the first words of love ; but 
 of prudery and artificial coquetry there was little, and the 
 young soon read one another's hearts. Every thing was 
 in Gerard's favor : his good looks, her belief in his good- 
 ness, her gratitude ; and, at the Duke's banquet this mel- 
 low summer eve, all things disposed the female nature to 
 tenderness ; the avenues to the heart lay open ; the senses
 
 36 A GOOD KIGHT. 
 
 were so soothed and subdued with lovely colors, gentle 
 sounds, and delicate odors ; the sun gently sinking, the 
 warm air, the green canopy, the cool music of the now 
 violet fountain. 
 
 Gerard and Margaret sat hand in hand in silence : and 
 Gerard's eyes sought hers lovingly ; and hers now and 
 then turned on him timidly and imploringly: and two 
 sweet unreasonable tears rolled down her cheeks, and 
 she smiled deliciously ere they were dry. 
 
 And the sun declined; and the air cooled; and the 
 fountain plashed more gently ; and the pair throbbed in 
 unison, and silence, and this weary world was heaven to 
 them. 
 
 3&T-, f ^ 
 
 
 j is rT 
 
 
 1 i h II 
 
 Of " 1 E '- 
 
 Oh the merry 
 
 d; 
 
 ^ J jJ -^ ~*i f=j ~ b 
 
 tys, the merry days when we were young; 
 
 W 1 ,., U QI..L-" a-JaM-* -* J"l 1 j H- 
 
 Oh the merry days, the merry days when we were young. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A GEAVE white-haired seneschal came to their table, 
 and inquired courteously whether Gerard Gerardssoen 
 was of their company. Upon Gerard's answer, he said, 
 
 "The Princess Marie would confer with you, young 
 sir ; I am to conduct you to her presence," 
 
 Instantly all faces within hearing turned sharp round, 
 and were bent with curiosity and envy on the man that 
 was to go to a princess. 
 
 Gerard rose to obey. 
 
 " I wager we shall not see you again," said Margaret, 
 calmly, but coloring a little. 
 
 " That will you," was the reply : then he whispered in 
 her ear. " This is my good princess ; but you are my
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 37 
 
 queen." He added aloud : " Wait for me, I pray you ; 
 I will presently return." 
 
 " Ay, ay !" said Peter, who had just awoke. 
 
 Gerard gone, the pair whose dress was so homely, yet 
 they were with the man whom the princess sent for, be- 
 came " the cynosure of neighboring eyes ;" observing 
 which, William Johnson came forward, acted surprise, 
 and claimed his relations : 
 
 " And to think that there was I at your backs, and you 
 saw me not." 
 
 " Pardon me, cousin Johnson, I saw you long since," 
 said Margaret, coldly. 
 
 " You saw me, and spoke not to me ?" 
 
 " Nay, cousin, it was for you to welcome us to Rotter- 
 dam, as it is for us to welcome you at Sevenbergen. 
 Your servant denied us a seat in your house." 
 
 "The idiot!" 
 
 " And I had a mind to see whether it was ' like maid 
 like master :' for there is sooth in by-words." 
 
 William Johnson blushed purple. He saw Margaret 
 was keen, and suspected him. He did the wisest thing 
 under the circumstances trusted to deeds not words. 
 He insisted on their coming home with him at once, and 
 he would show them whether they were welcome to Rot- 
 terdam or not. 
 
 " Who doubts it, cousin ? Who doubts it ?" said the 
 scholar. 
 
 Margaret thanked him graciously, but demurred to go 
 just now: said she wanted to hear the minstrels again. 
 In about a quarter of an hour Johnson renewed his pro- 
 posal, and bade her observe that many of the guests had 
 left. Then her real reason came out. 
 
 " It were ill manners to our friend : and he will lose 
 us. He knows not where we lodge in Rotterdam, and 
 the city is large, and we have parted company once al- 
 ready. 
 
 " Oh 1" said Johnson, " we will provide for that. My
 
 38 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 young man, ahem ! I mean my secretary, shall sit here 
 and wait, and bring him on to my house : he shall lodge 
 with me and with no other." 
 
 " Cousin, we shall be too burdensome." 
 
 " Nay, nay, you shah 1 see whether you are welcome or 
 not you and your friends, and your friends' friends, if 
 need be ; and I shall hear what the princess would with 
 him." 
 
 - Margaret felt a thrill of joy that Gerard should be 
 lodged under the same roof with her ; then she had a 
 slight misgiving. " But if your young man should be 
 thoughtless, and go play, and Gerard miss him " 
 
 "He go play? He leave the spot where I put him, 
 and bid him stay ? Ho ! Stand forth, Hans Cloterman." 
 
 A figure clad in black serge and dark violet hose got 
 up, and took two steps and stood before them without 
 moving a muscle : a solemn, precise young man, the very 
 statue of gravity and starched propriety. At his aspect 
 Margaret, being very happy, could hardly keep her coun- 
 tenance. But she whispered Johnson, " I would put my 
 hand in the fire for him! We are at your command, 
 cousin, as soon as you have given him his orders." 
 
 Hans was then instructed to sit at the table and wait 
 for Gerard, and conduct him to Ooster-Waagen Street. 
 He replied, not in words, but by calmly taking the seat 
 indicated, and Margaret, Peter, and William Johnson 
 went with the latter. 
 
 " And, indeed, it is time you were abed, father, after 
 ah 1 your travel," said Margaret. This had been hi her 
 mind all along. 
 
 Hans Cloterman sat waiting for Gerard, solemn and 
 business-like. The minutes flew by, but excited no im- 
 patience in that perfect young man. Johnson did him 
 no more than justice when he laughed to scorn the idea 
 of his secretary leaving his post, or neglecting his duty, in 
 pursuit of sport, or out of youthful hilarity and frivolity.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 39 
 
 As Gerard was long in coming, the patient Hans his 
 employer's eye being no longer on him "tandem cus- 
 tode remoto," improved the time by quaffing solemnly, 
 silently, and at short but accurately measured intervals, 
 goblets of Corsican wine. The wine was strong, so was 
 Cloterman's head : and it was not until Gerard had been 
 gone a good hour the model secretary had imbibed the 
 notion that creation expected of Cloterman to drink the 
 health of all good fellows, and "nommement" of the Duke 
 of Burgundy there present. With this view, he filled 
 bumper nine, and rose gingerly, but solemnly and slow- 
 ly. Having reached his full height, he instantly rolled 
 upon the grass goblet in hand, spilling the cold liquor on 
 many an ankle, but not disturbing a muscle in his own 
 long face, which, in .the total eclipse of reason, retained 
 its gravity, primness, and infallibility. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 THE seneschal led Gerard through several passages to 
 the door of a pavilion, where some young noblemen, em- 
 broidered and feathered, sat sentinel, guarding the heir- 
 apparent, and playing cards by the red light of torches 
 their servants held. A whisper from the seneschal, and 
 one of them rose reluctantly, stared at Gerard with 
 haughty surprise, and entered the pavilion. He present- 
 ly returned, and, beckoning the pair, led them through a 
 passage or two and landed them in an ante-chamber, 
 where sat three more young gentlemen, feathered, fur- 
 red, and embroidered like pieces of fancy-work, and 
 deep in that instructive and edifying branch of learning, 
 dice. 
 
 " You can't see the Princess it is too late," said one. 
 
 Another followed suit : 
 
 " She passed this way but now with her nurse. She is 
 gone to bed, doll and all duece-ace again !"
 
 40 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Gerard prepared to retire. The seneschal, with an in- 
 credulous smile, replied : 
 
 " The young man is here by the countess's orders ; be 
 so good as conduct him to her ladies." 
 
 On this a superb Adonis rose, with an injured look, 
 and led Gerard into a room where sat or lolloped eleven 
 ladies, chattering like magpies. Two, more industrious 
 than the rest, were playing cat's-cradle, with fingers as 
 nimble as their tongues. At the sight of a stranger all 
 the tongues stopped like one piece of complicated ma- 
 chinery, and all the eyes turned on Gerard, as if the same 
 string that checked the tongues had turned the eyes on. 
 Gerard was ill at ease before, but this battery of eyes 
 discountenanced him, and down went his eyes on the 
 ground. Then the cowards finding, like the hare who 
 ran by the pond and the frogs scuttled into the water, 
 that there was a creature they could frighten, giggled 
 and enjoyed their prowess. Then a duenna said, severe- 
 ly, " Mesdames !" and they were abashed as one woman. 
 This same duenna took Gerard, and marched before him 
 in solemn silence. The young man's heart sank, and he 
 had half a mind to turn and run out of the place. " What 
 must princes be," he thought, " when their courtiers are 
 so freezing. Of course they take their breeding from 
 him they serve." These reflections were interrupted by 
 the duenna suddenly introducing him into a room where 
 three ladies sat working, and a pretty little girl tuning a 
 lute. The ladies were richly but not showily dressed, 
 and the duenna went up to the one who was hemming a 
 kerchief, and said a few words in a low tone. This lady 
 then turned toward Gerard, with a smile, and beckoned 
 him to come near her. She did not rise, but she laid 
 aside her work, and her manner of turning toward him, 
 slight as the movement was, was full of grace and ease 
 and courtesy. She began a conversation at once. 
 
 "Margaret Van Eyck is an old friend of mine, sir, and 
 I am right glad to have a letter from her hand, and thank-
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 43 
 
 ful to you, sir, for bringing it to me safely. Marie, my 
 love, this is the young gentleman who brought you that 
 pretty miniature." 
 
 " Sir, I thank you a thousand tunes," said the young 
 lady. 
 
 " I am glad you feel obliged to him, sweetheart, for 
 our friend wishes us to do him a little service in return." 
 
 " I will do any thing on earth for him," replied the 
 young lady, with ardor. 
 
 "Any thing on earth is nothing in the world," said the 
 Countess of Charolois, quietly. 
 
 " Well, then, I will What would you have me to 
 
 do, sir?" 
 
 Gerard had just found out what high society he was 
 in. "My sovereign demoiselle," said he, gently and a 
 little tremulously, " where there have been no pains there 
 needs no reward." 
 
 " But we must obey mamma. All the world must obey 
 mamma." 
 
 " That is true. Then, our demoiselle, reward me, if 
 you will, by letting me hear the stave you were going to 
 sing and I interrupted it." 
 
 " What, you love music, sir ?" 
 
 " I adore it." 
 
 The little princess looked inquiringly at her mother, 
 and received a smile of assent. She then took her lute 
 and sang a romaunt of the day. Although but twelve 
 years old, she was a well-taught and pains-taking musi- 
 cian. Her little claw swept the chords with courage and 
 precision, and struck out the notes of the arpeggio clear 
 and distinct, and bright like twinkling stars ; but the 
 maui charm was her voice. It was not mighty, but it 
 was round, clear, full, and ringing like a bell. She sang 
 with a certain modest eloquence, though she knew none 
 of the tricks of feeling. She was too young to be theat- 
 rical, or even sentimental, so nothing was forced all 
 gushed. Her little mouth seemed the mouth of Nature.
 
 44 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 The ditty, too, was as pure as its utterance. As there 
 were none of those false divisions those whining slurs, 
 which are now sold so dear by Italian songsters, though 
 every jackal in India delivers them gratis to his custom- 
 ers all night, and sometimes gets shot for them, and al- 
 ways deserves it so there were no cadences and fiori- 
 turi ; the trite, turgid, and feeble expletives of song, the 
 skim-milk, with which mindless musicians and mindless 
 writers quench fire, wash out color, and drown melody 
 and meaning dead. 
 
 While the pure and tender strain was flowing from 
 the pure young throat, Gerard's eyes filled with tears. 
 The countess watched him with interest, for it was usual 
 to applaud the princess loudly, but not with cheek and 
 eye. So when the voice ceased, and the glasses left off 
 ringing, she asked demurely, " Was he satisfied ?" 
 
 Gerard gave a little start ; the spoken voice broke a 
 charm, and brought him back to earth. 
 
 " Oh, madam !" he cried, " surely it is thus that cherubs 
 and seraphs sing and charm the saints in heaven." 
 
 " I am somewhat of your opinion, my young friend," 
 said the countess, with emotion ; and she bent a look of 
 love and gentle pride upon her girl : a heavenly look, 
 such as, they say, is given to the eye of the short-lived 
 resting on the short-lived. 
 
 The countess resumed : 
 
 " My old friend requests me to be serviceable to you. 
 It is the first favor she has done us the honor of asking 
 us, and the request is sacred. You are in holy orders, 
 sir?" 
 
 Gerard bowed. 
 
 *' I fear you are jiot a priest, you look too young." 
 
 " Oh no, madam ! I am not even a sub-deacon. I am 
 only a lector ; but next month I shall be an exorcist ; 
 and before long an acolyth." 
 
 " Well, Monsieur Gerard, with your accomplishments
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 45 
 
 you can soon pass through the inferior orders. And let 
 me beg you to do so. For the day after you have said 
 your first mass, I shall have the pleasure of appointing 
 you to a benefice." 
 
 " Oh, madam !" 
 
 "And Marie, remember I make this promise in your 
 name as well as my own." 
 
 " Fear not, mamma : I will not forget. But if he will 
 take my advice, what he will be is Bishop of Liege. The 
 Bishop of Liege is a beautiful bishop. What ! don't you 
 remember him, mamma, that day we were at Liege ? he 
 was braver than grandpapa himself. He had on a crown 
 a high one, and it was cut in the middle, and it was 
 full of oh ! such beautiful jewels : and his gown stiff with 
 gold ; and his mantle, too ; and it had a broad border all 
 pictures : but, above all, his gloves ; you have no such 
 gloves, mamma. They were embroidered and covered 
 with jewels, and scented with such lovely scent ; I smelt 
 them all the time he was giving me his blessing on my 
 head with them. Dear old man ! I dare say he will die 
 soon most old people do and then, sir, you can be 
 bishop, you know, and wear " 
 
 " Gently, Marie, gently : bishoprics are for old gentle- 
 men ; and this is a young gentleman." 
 
 " Mamma ! he is not so very young." 
 
 " Not compared with you, Marie, eh ?" 
 
 " He is a good bigness, dear mamma ; and I am sure 
 he is good enough for a bishop." 
 
 " Alas, mademoiselle ! you are mistaken." 
 
 " I don't know that, Monsieur Gerard ; but I am a lit- 
 tle puzzled to know on what grounds mademoiselle there 
 pronounced your character so boldly." 
 
 " Alas, mamma !" said the princess, " you have not 
 looked at his face then ;" and she raised her eyebrows at 
 her mother's simplicity. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said the countess, "I have. 
 Well, sir, if I can not go quite so fast as my daughter,
 
 46 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 attribute it to my age, not to a want of interest in your 
 welfare. A benefice will do to begin your career with ; 
 and I must take care it is not too far from what call 
 you the place ?" 
 
 " Tergou, madam." 
 
 " A priest gives up "much," continued the coxintess ; 
 " often, I fear, he learns too late how much :" and her 
 woman's eye rested a moment on Gerard with mild pity 
 and half surprise at his resigning her sex, and all the 
 heaven they can bestow, and the great parental joys : 
 " at least you shall be near your friends. Have you a 
 mother ?" 
 
 " Yes, madam ; thanks be to God !" 
 
 " Good ! You shall have a church near Tergou. She 
 will thank me. And now, sir, we must not detain you 
 too long from those who have a better claim on your so- 
 ciety than we have. Duchess, oblige me by bidding 
 one of the pages conduct him to the hall of banquet ; the 
 way is hard to find." 
 
 Gerard bowed low to the countess and the princess, 
 and backed toward the door. 
 
 " I hope it will be a nice benefice," said the princess to 
 him, with a pretty smile, as he was going out; then, 
 shaking her head with an air of solemn misgiving, " but 
 you had better have been Bishop of Liege." 
 
 Gerard followed his new conductor, his heart warm 
 with gratitude : but ere he reached the banquet-hall a 
 chill came over him. The mind of one who has led a 
 quiet, uneventful life, is not apt to take in contradictory 
 feelings at the same moment and balance them, but rath- 
 er to be overpowered by each in turn. While Gerard 
 was with the countess, the excitement of so new a situa- 
 tion, the unlooked-for promise, the joy and pride it would 
 cause at home, possessed him wholly : but now it was 
 passion's turn to be heard again. What, give up Marga- 
 ret, whose soft hand he still felt in his, and her deep eyes 
 in his heart ? resign her and all the world of love and
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 47 
 
 joy she had opened on him to-day ? The revulsion, when 
 it did come, was so strong, that he hastily resolved to 
 say nothing at home about the offered benefice. " The 
 countess is so good," thought he, " she has a hundred 
 ways of aiding a young man's fortune : she will not com- 
 pel me to be a priest when she shall learn I love one of 
 her sex : one would almost think she does know it, for 
 she cast a strange look on me, and said, ' A priest gives 
 up much, too much.' I dare say she will give me a place 
 about the palace." And with this "hopeful reflection his 
 mind was eased, and, being now at the entrance of the 
 banqueting-hall, he thanked his conductor, and ran hasti- 
 ly with joyful eyes to Margaret. He came in sight of 
 the table she was gone. Peter was gone too. No- 
 body was at the table at all ; only a citizen in sober gar- 
 ments had just tumbled under it dead drunk, and several 
 persons were raising him to carry him away. Gerard 
 never guessed how important this solemn drunkard was 
 to him: he was looking for "Beauty," and let "the 
 beast" lie. He ran wildly round the hall, which was 
 now comparatively empty. She was not there. He left 
 the palace : outside he found a crowd gaping at two 
 great fan-lights just lighted over the gate. He asked 
 them earnestly if they had seen an old man in a gown, 
 and a lovely girl pass out. They laughed at the ques- 
 tion. " They were staring at these new lights that turn 
 night into day. They didn't trouble their heads about 
 old men and young wenches, every-day sights." From 
 another group he learned there was a mystery being 
 played under canvas hard by, and all the world gone to 
 see it. This revived his hopes, and he went and saw the 
 mystery. In this representation divine personages, too 
 sacred for me to name here, came clumsily down from 
 heaven to talk sophistry with the cardinal virtues, the 
 nine muses, and the seven deadly sins, all present in hu- 
 man shape, and not unlike one another. To enliven 
 which weary stuff in rattled the prince of the power of
 
 48 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 the air, and an imp that kept molesting him and buffet- 
 ing hun with a bladder, at each thwack of which the 
 crowd were in ecstasies. "When the vices had uttered 
 good store of obscenity and the virtues twaddle, the ce- 
 lestials, including the nine muses, went gingerly back to 
 heaven one by one ; for there was but one cloud ; and 
 two artisans worked it up with its supernatural freight, 
 and worked it down with a winch, in full sight of the au- 
 dience. These disposed of, the bottomless pit opened 
 and flamed in the centre of the stage : the carpenters and 
 virtues shoved the vices in, and the virtues and Beelzebub 
 and his tormentor danced merrily round the place of 
 eternal torture to the fife and tabor. 
 
 This entertainment was written by the Bishop of Ghent 
 for the diffusion of religious sentiment by the aid of the 
 senses, and was an average specimen of theatrical exhi- 
 bitions so long as they were in the hands of the clergy. 
 But, alas ! in course of time the laity conducted the plays, 
 and so the theatre, my reverend friends inform me, has 
 become profane. 
 
 Margaret was nowhere in the crowd, and Gerard 
 could not enjoy the performance : he actually went away 
 in Act 2, in the midst of a much-admired piece of dia- 
 logue, in which Justice outquibbled Satan. He walked 
 through many streets, but could not find her he sought. 
 At last, fairly worn out, he went to a hostelry and slept 
 till daybreak. All that day, heavy and heartsick, he 
 sought her, but could never fall in with her or her father, 
 nor ever obtain the slightest clew. Then he felt she was 
 false, or had changed her mind. He was irritated now, 
 as well as sad. More good fortune fell on him : he al- 
 most hated it. At last, on the third day, after he had 
 once more been through every street, he said, " She is not 
 in the town, and I shall never see her again. I will go 
 home." He started for Tergou with royal favor prom- 
 ised, with fifteen golden angels in his purse, a golden 
 medal on his bosom, and a heart like a lump of lead.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 49 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IT was near four o'clock in the afternoon. Gerard was 
 in the shop. His eldest and youngest sons were abroad. 
 Catherine and her little crippled daughter had long been 
 anxious about Gerard, and now they were gone a little 
 way down the road, to see if by good luck he might be 
 visible in the distance ; and Giles was alone in the sitting- 
 room, which I will sketch, furniture and dwarf included. 
 
 The Hollanders were always an original and leading peo- 
 ple. At different epochs they invented printing (wooden 
 type), oil-painting, liberty, banking, gardening, etc. ; above 
 all, years before my tale, they invented cleanliness. So, 
 while the English gentry, in velvet jerkins and chicken- 
 toed shoes, trod floors of stale rushes, foul receptacle of 
 bones, decomposing morsels, spittle, dogs' eggs, and all 
 abominations, this hosier's sitting-room at Tergou was 
 floored with Dutch tiles, so highly glazed and constantly 
 washed, that you could eat off them. There was one 
 large window ; the cross stone- work in the centre of it 
 was very massive, and stood in relief, looking like an 
 actual cross to the inmates, and was eyed as such in their 
 devotions. The panes were very small and lozenge- 
 shaped, and soldered to one another with strips of lead : 
 the like you may see to this day in some of our rural 
 cottages. The chairs were rude and primitive, all but 
 the arm-chair, whose back, at right angles with its seat, 
 was so high that the sitter's head stopped two feet short 
 of the top. This chair was of oak, and carved at the 
 summit. There was a copper pail, that went in at the 
 waist, holding holy water ; and a little hand-besom to 
 sprinkle it far and wide ; and a long, narrow, but mas- 
 sive oak table, with a dwarf sticking to the rim by his 
 teeth, his eyes glaring, and his claws in the air like a 
 
 C
 
 50 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 pouncing vampire. Nature, it would seem, did not make 
 Giles a dwarf out of malice prepense : she constructed a 
 head and torso with her usual care, but just then her 
 attention was distracted, and she left the rest to chance ; 
 the result was a human wedge, an inverted cone. He 
 might with justice have taken her to task in the terms 
 of Horace : 
 
 amphora coepit 
 Institui ; currente rota cur urceus exit ? 
 
 His centre was any thing but his centre of gravity. Bi- 
 sected, upper Giles would have outweighed three lower 
 Gileses. But this very disproportion enabled him to do 
 feats that would have baffled Milo. His brawny arms 
 had no weight to draw after them ; so he could go up a 
 vertical pole like a squirrel, and hang for hours from a 
 bough by one hand like a cherry by its stalk. If he 
 could have made a vacuum with his hands, as the lizard is 
 said to do with its feet, he would have gone along a 
 ceiling. Now, this pocket athlete was insanely fond of 
 griping the dinner-table with both hands, and so swing- 
 ing an hour at a time ; and then climax of delight ! he 
 would seize it with his teeth, and, taking off his hands, 
 hold on like grim death by his huge ivories. 
 
 But all our joys, however elevating, suffer interrup- 
 tion. Little Kate caught Sampsonet in this posture, and 
 stood aghast. She was her mother's daughter, and her 
 heart beat with the furniture, not with the 12mo. gym- 
 nast. 
 
 " Oh, Giles ! how can you ? Mother would be vexed. 
 It dents the table." 
 
 " Go and tell her, little tale-bearer," snarled Giles. 
 " You are the one for making mischief." 
 
 " Am I ?" inquired Kate, calmly ; " that is news to 
 me." 
 
 " The biggest in Tergou," growled Giles, fastening on 
 again. 
 
 At this Kate sat quietly down and cried. Her mother
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 51 
 
 came in almost at that moment, and Giles hurled him- 
 self under the table, and there glared. 
 
 " What is to do now ?" said the dame, sharply. Then 
 turning her experienced eyes on Giles, and observing the 
 position he had taken up, and a sheepish expression, she 
 hinted at cuffing of ears. 
 
 " Nay, mother," said the girl ; " it was but a foolish 
 word Giles spoke. I had not noticed it at another tune ; 
 but I was tired and in care for Gerard, you know." 
 
 " Let no one be in care for me," said a faint voice at 
 the door, and hi tottered Gerard, pale, dusty, and worn 
 out ; and, amid uplifted hands and cries of delight, curi- 
 osity and anxiety mingled, dropped almost fainting into 
 the nearest chair. 
 
 Beating Rotterdam, like a covert, for Margaret, and 
 the long journey afterward, had fairly knocked Gerard 
 up. But elastic youth soon revived, and behold him the 
 centre of an eager circle. First of all they must hear 
 about the prizes. Then Gerard told them he had been 
 admitted to see the competitors' works all laid out in an 
 enormous hall before the judges pronounced: "Oh, 
 mother ! oh, Kate ! when I saw the goldsmiths' work, I 
 had like to have fallen on the floor. I thought not all 
 the goldsmiths on earth had so much gold, silver, jewels, 
 and craft of design and facture. But, in sooth, all the 
 arts are divine." 
 
 Then, to please the females, he described to them the 
 reliquaries, feretories, calices, crosiers, crosses, pyxes, 
 monstrances, and other wonders ecclesiastical, and the 
 goblets, hanaps, watches, clocks, chains, brooches, etc., 
 so that their mouths watered. 
 
 "But, Kate, when I came to the illuminated work 
 from Ghent and Bruges, my heart sank. Mine was dirt 
 by the side of it. For the first minute I could almost 
 have cried ; but I prayed for a better spirit, and pres- 
 ently I was able to enjoy them, and thank God for those 
 lovely works, and for those skillful, patient craftsmen,
 
 52 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 that I own my masters. Well, the colored work was so 
 beautiful I forgot all about the black and white. But, 
 next day, when all the other prizes had been giren, they 
 came to the writing, and whose name think you was 
 called first?" 
 
 " Yours," said Kate. 
 
 The others laughed her to scorn. 
 
 " You may laugh," said Gerard, " but for all that Ge- 
 rard Gerardssoen of Tergou was the name the herald 
 shouted. I stood stupid ; they thrust me forward. Ev- 
 ery thing swam before my eyes. I don't know how I 
 found myself kneeling on a cushion at the feet of the 
 duke. He said something to me, but I was so fluttered 
 I could not answer him. So then he put his hand to his 
 side and did not draw a glaive and cut off my dull head, 
 but gave me a gold medal, and there it is." There was 
 a yell and almost a scramble. " And then he gave me 
 fifteen great bright golden angels. I had seen one be- 
 fore, but I never handled one. Here they are." 
 
 " Oh, Gerard ! oh, Gerard !" 
 
 ft There is one for you, our eldest ; and one for you, 
 Sybrandt, and for you, Little Mischief; and two for you, 
 Little Lily, because God has afflicted you ; and one for 
 myself to buy colors and vellum ; and nine for her that 
 xiursed us all, and risked the two crowns upon poor Ge- 
 rard's hand." 
 
 The gold drew out their several characters. Cornelis 
 and Sybrandt clutched each his coin with one glare of 
 greediness and another glare of envy at Kate, who had 
 got two pieces. Giles seized his and rolled it along the 
 floor and gamboled after it. But Kate put down her 
 crutches and sat down, and held out her little arms to 
 Gerard with a heavenly gesture of love and tenderness, 
 and the mother, fairly benumbed at first by the shower 
 of gold that fell on her apron, now cried out, " Leave 
 kissing him, Kate, he is my son, not yours. Ah, Gerard, 
 my child ! I have not loved you as you deserved."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 53 
 
 Then Gerard threw himself on his knees beside her, 
 and she flung her arms round him and wept for joy and 
 pride, upon his neck. 
 
 " Good lad ! good lad, !" cried the hosier, with some 
 emotion. " I must go and tell the neighbors. Lend me 
 the medal, Gerard, I'll show it my good friend, Peter 
 Buyskens ; he is always regaling me with how his son 
 Jorian won the tin mug a-shooting at the Butts." 
 
 " Ay, do my man ; and show Peter Buyskens one of 
 the angels. Tell him there are fourteen more, where 
 that came from. Mind you bring it me back !" 
 
 " Stay a minute, father, there is better news behind," 
 said Gerard, flushing with joy at the joy he caused. 
 
 " Better ! Better than this ?" 
 
 Then Gerard told his interview with the countess, and 
 the house rang with joy. 
 
 s " Now, God bless the good lady, and bless the Dame 
 Van Eyck ! a benefice, our son ! My cares are at an 
 end. Gerard, my good friend and master, now we two 
 can die happy whenever our time comes. This dear boy 
 will take our place, and none of these loved ones will 
 want a home or a friend." 
 
 From that hour Gerard was looked upon as the stay 
 of the family. He was a son apart, but in another sense. 
 He was always in the right, and nothing too good for 
 him. Cornells and Sybrandt became more and more 
 jealous of him, and longed for the day he should go to 
 his benefice : they would get rid of the favorite, and his 
 reverence's purse would be open to them. With these 
 views he co-operated. The wound love had given him 
 throbbed duller and duller. His success and the affec- 
 tion and admiration of his parents, made him think more 
 highly of himself, and resent with more spirit Margaret's 
 ingratitude and discourtesy. For all that, she had power 
 to cool him toward the rest of her sex, and now for every 
 reason he wished to be ordained priest as soon as he 
 could pass the intermediate orders. He knew the Vul-
 
 54 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 gate already better than most of the clergy, and he 
 studied the rubric and the dogmas of the church with 
 his friends the monks ; and, the first time the bishop 
 came that way, he applied to be admitted " exorcist," 
 the third step in holy orders. The bishop questioned 
 him, and ordained him at once. He had to kneel, and, 
 after a short prayer, the bishop delivered to him a little 
 MS. full of exorcisms, and said : " Take this, Gerard, and 
 have power to lay hands on the possessed, whether bap- 
 tized or catechumens!" and he took it reverently, and 
 went home invested by the church with power to cast 
 out demons. 
 
 Returning home from the church, he was met by little 
 Kate on her crutches. 
 
 " Oh, Gerard ! who, think you, has been at our house 
 seeking you ? the Burgomaster himself." 
 
 Gerard started, and changed color. 
 
 "Ghysbreeht Van Swieten? What would he with 
 me?" 
 
 "Nay, Gerard, I know not. But he was urgent to 
 see you. You are to go to his house on the instant." 
 
 " Well, he is the Burgomaster : I must go : but it 
 likes me not. Kate, I have seen him cast such a look on 
 me as no friend casts. No matter ; such looks forewarn 
 the wise. Besides, he knows " 
 
 " Knows what, Gerard ?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 " Nothing ?" 
 
 " Kate, I'll go." 
 
 And he went to Ghysbrecht Van Swieten's house. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 GHYSBKECHT VAN SWIETEN was an artful man. He 
 opened on the novice with something quite wide of the 
 mark he was really aiming at. " The town records,"
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 55 
 
 said he, " are crabbedly written, and the ink rusty with 
 age." He offered Gerard the honor of transcribing them 
 fair. 
 
 Gerard inquired what he was to be paid. 
 
 Ghysbrecht offered a sum that would have just pur- 
 chased the pens, ink, and parchment. 
 
 " But, Burgomaster, my labor ? Here is a year's 
 work." 
 
 "Your labor! Call you marking parchment labor? 
 Little sweat goes to that, I trow." 
 
 "'Tis labor, and skilled labor to boot: and that is 
 better paid in all crafts than rude labor, sweat or no 
 sweat. Besides, there's my time." 
 
 " Your time ? Why what is time to you, at two-and- 
 twenty?" Then fixing his eyes keenly on Gerard, to 
 mark the effect of his words, he said : " Say, rather, you 
 are idle grown. You are in love. Your body is with 
 those chanting monks, but your heart is with Peter 
 Brandt and his red-haired girl." 
 
 " I know no Peter Brandt." 
 
 This denial confirmed Ghysbrecht's suspicion that the 
 caster out of demons was playing a deep game. 
 
 " Ye lie !" he shouted. " Did I not find you at her 
 elbow, on the road to Rotterdam ?" 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " Ah. And you were seen at Sevenbergen but t'other 
 day." 
 
 "Was I?" 
 
 " Ay ; and at Peter's house." 
 
 "At Sevenbergen?" 
 
 " Ay, at Sevenbergen." 
 
 Now, this was what in modern days is called a draw. 
 It was a guess, put boldly forth as fact, to elicit by the 
 young man's answer whether he had been there lately or 
 not. 
 
 The result of the artifice surprised the crafty one. 
 Gerard started up in a strange state of nervous excite- 
 ment.
 
 56 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " Burgomaster," said he, with trembUng voice, " I have 
 not been at Sevenbergen this three years, and I know 
 not the name of those you saw me with, nor where they 
 dwelt ; but, as my time is precious, though you value it 
 not, give you good-day." And he darted out, with his 
 eyes sparkling. 
 
 Ghysbrecht started up in huge ire ; but he sank into 
 his chair again. 
 
 " He fears me not. He knows something, if not all." 
 
 Then he called hastily to his trusty servant, and almost 
 dragged him to a window. 
 
 " See you yon man ?" he cried. " Haste ! Follow 
 him ! But let him not see you. He is young, but old 
 hi craft. Keep him in sight all day. Let me know 
 whither he goes, and what he does." 
 
 It was night when the servant returned. 
 " "Well ! well !" cried Van Swieten, eagerly. 
 ** Master, the young man went from you to Sevenber- 
 gen." 
 
 Ghysbrecht groaned. 
 
 " To the house of Peter the Magician." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " LOOK into your own heart and write !" said Herr 
 Cant; and earth's cuckoos echoed the cry. Look into 
 the Rhine where it is deepest, and the Thames where it 
 is thickest, and paint the bottom. Lower a bucket into 
 a well of self-deception, and what comes up must be im- 
 mortal truth, musn't it ? Now, in the first place no son 
 of Adam ever reads his own heart at all, except by the 
 habit acquired and the light gamed from some years' 
 perusal of other hearts ; and even then, with his acquired 
 sagacity and reflected light, he can but spell and decipher 
 his own heart, not read it fluently. Gerard was so young
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 59 
 
 and green that he needed no philosopherling to lead him 
 into shallow water. Half way to Sevenbergen he looked 
 into his own heart, and asked it why he was going to 
 Sevenbergen. His heart replied without a moment's 
 hesitation. We are going out of mere curiosity, to know 
 why she jilted us, and to show her it has not broken our 
 hearts, and that we are quite content with our honors 
 and our benefice in prospectu, and don't want her or any 
 of her fickle sex. 
 
 He soon found out Peter Brandt's cottage ; and there 
 sat a girl in the doorway, plying her needle, and a stal- 
 wart figure leaned on a long bow and talked to her. 
 Gerard felt an unaccountable pang at the sight of him. 
 However, the man turned out to be past fifty years of 
 age, an old soldier, whom Gerard remembered to have 
 seen shoot at the butts with admirable force and skill. 
 Another minute and the youth stood before them. Mar- 
 garet looked up and dropped her work, and uttered a 
 faint cry, and was white and red by turns. But these 
 signs of emotion were swiftly dismissed, and she turned 
 far more chill and indifferent than she would if she had 
 not betrayed this agitation. 
 
 " What ! is it you, Master Gerard ? What on earth 
 brings you here, I wonder." 
 
 " I was passing by and saw you ; so I thought I would 
 give you good-day, and ask after your father." 
 
 " My father is well. He will be here anon." 
 
 " Then I may as well stay till he comes." 
 
 " As you will. Good Martin, step into the village and 
 tell my father here is a friend of his." 
 
 " And not of yours ?" 
 
 " My father's friends are mine." 
 
 " That is doubtful. It was not like a friend to promise 
 to wait for me, and then make off the moment my back 
 was turned. Cruel Margaret! you little know how I 
 searched the town for you how for want of you nothing 
 was pleasant to me."
 
 GO A UOOL> FIOrHT. 
 
 " These are idle words ; if you bad desired my father's 
 company, or mine, you would have come back. There I 
 had a bed laid for you, sir, at my cousin's, and he would 
 have made much of you, and, who knows, I might have 
 made much of you too. I was in the humor that day. 
 You will not catch me in the same mind again, neither 
 you nor any young man, I warrant me." 
 
 " Margaret, I came back the moment the countess let 
 me go ; but you were not there." 
 
 " Nay, you did not, or you had seen Hans Cloterman 
 at our table ; we left him to bring you on." 
 
 " I saw no one there, but only a drunken man that had 
 just tumbled down." 
 
 "At our table? How was he clad?" 
 
 " Nay, I took little heed : in sad-colored garb." 
 
 At this Margaret's face gradually lighted with a mix- 
 ture of archness and happiness ; then assuming incre- 
 dulity and severity, she put many shrewd questions, all 
 of which Gerard answered most loyally. Finally the 
 clouds cleared, and they guessed how the misunderstand- 
 ing had come about. Then came a revulsion of tender- 
 ness, all the more powerful that they had done each other 
 wrong ; and then, more dangerous still, came mutual 
 confessions. Neither had been happy since ; neither ever 
 would have been happy but for this fortunate meeting. 
 
 And Gerard found a MS. Vulgate lying open on the 
 table, and pounced upon it like a hawk. MSS. were his 
 delight ; but before he could get to it two white hands 
 quickly came flat upon the page, and a red face confront- 
 ed him. 
 
 " Nay, take away your hands, Margaret, that I may 
 see where you are reading, and I will read there too at 
 home ; so shall my soul meet yours in the sacred page. 
 You will not? Nay, then, I must kiss them away." 
 And he kissed them so often, that for very shame they 
 were fain to withdraw, and, lo ! the sacred book proved 
 to be open at
 
 A UOOD FIGHT. 61 
 
 An apple of gold in a net-work of silver. 
 " There, now," said she, " I had been hunting for it 
 ever so long, and found it but even now and to be 
 caught !" and with a touch of inconsistency she pointed 
 it out to Gerard with her white finger. 
 
 "Ay," said he, "but to-day it is all hidden in that 
 great cap." 
 
 " It is a comely cap, I'm told by some." 
 " May be : but what it hides is beautiful." 
 " It is not : it is hideous." 
 " Well, it was beautiful at Rotterdam." 
 "Ay, every thing was beautiful that day." 
 And now Peter came in and welcomed Gerard cordi- 
 ally, and would have him to stay supper. And Margaret 
 disappeared; and Gerard had a nice learned chat with 
 Peter; and Margaret reappeared with her hair in her 
 silver net, and shot a glance half arch half coy, and she 
 glided about them, and spread supper, and beamed bright 
 with gayety and happiness. And in the cool evening 
 Gerard coaxed her out, and coaxed her on to the road to 
 Tergou, and there they strolled up and down, hand in 
 hand ; and when he must go they pledged each other 
 never to quarrel or misunderstand one another again ; 
 and they sealed the promise with a long loving kiss, and 
 Gerard went home on wings. 
 
 From that day Gerard spent most of his evenings with 
 Margaret, and the attachment deepened and deepened on 
 both sides till the hours they spent together were the 
 hours they lived ; the rest they counted and underwent. 
 And at the outset of this deep attachment all went 
 smoothly ; obstacles there were, but they seemed distant 
 and small to the eyes of hope, youth, and love. The feel- 
 ings and passions of so many persons, that this attach- 
 ment would thwart, gave no warning smoke to show their 
 volcanic nature and power. The course of true love ran 
 smoothly, placidly, until it had drawn these two young 
 hearts into its current forever, and then
 
 62 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 bright morning unwonted velvet shone, unwont- 
 ed feathers waved, and horses' hoofs glinted and rang 
 through the streets of Tergou, and the windows and 
 balconies were studded with wondering faces. The 
 French embassador was riding through to sport in the 
 neighboring forest. 
 
 Besides his own suite he was attended by several serv- 
 ants of the Duke of Burgundy, lent to do him honor and 
 minister to his pleasure. The duke's tumbler rode before 
 him with a grave, sedate majesty that made his more no- 
 ble companions seem light, frivolous persons. But ever 
 and anon, when respect and awe neared the oppressive, 
 he rolled off his horse so ignobly and funnily that even 
 the embassador was fain to burst out laughing. He also 
 climbed up again by the tail in a way provocative of 
 mirth,_and so he played his part. Toward the tail of the 
 pageant rode one that excited more attention still the 
 duke's leopard. A huntsman mounted on a Flemish horse 
 of prodigious size and power carried a long box fastened 
 to the rider's loins by straps curiously contrived, and on 
 this box sat a huge leopard crouching. She was chained 
 to the huntsman. The people admired her glossy hide 
 and spots, and pressed near, and one or two were for 
 feeling her and pulling her tail ; then the huntsman shout- 
 ed hi a terrible voice, " Beware ! At Antwerp one did 
 but throw a handful of dust at her, and the duke made 
 dust of him." 
 
 " Gramercy !" 
 
 " I speak sooth. The good duke shut him up in prison, 
 in a cell under ground, and the rats cleaned the flesh off 
 his bones in a night. Served him right for molesting 
 the poor thing." There was a murmur of fear, and tho
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 03 
 
 Tergovians shrank from tickling the leopard of their 
 sovereign. 
 
 But an incident followed that raised their spirits again. 
 The duke's giant, a Hungarian seven feet four inches 
 high, brought up the rear. This enormous creature had, 
 like some other giants, a treble fluty voice of little power. 
 He was a vain fellow, and not conscious of this or any 
 defect. Now it happened he caught sight of Giles sitting 
 on the top of the balcony ; so he stopped and began to 
 make fun of him. 
 
 " Halloo ! brother !" squeaked he, " I had nearly pass- 
 ed without seeing thee." 
 
 " You are plain enough to see," bellowed Giles, in his 
 bass tones. 
 
 " Come on my shoulder, brother," squeaked Titan, and 
 held out a shoulder-of-mutton fist to help him down. 
 
 " If I do I'll cuff your ears," roared the dwarf. 
 
 The giant saw the homuncule was irascible, and play- 
 ed upon him, being encouraged thereto by the shouts of 
 laughter. He did not see that the people were laughing 
 not at his wit, but at the ridiculous incongruity of the 
 two voices the gigantic feeble fife, and the petty, deep, 
 loud drum, the mountain delivered of a squeak and the 
 mole-hill belching thunder. 
 
 The singular duet came to as singular an end. Giles 
 lost all patience and self-command, and being a creature 
 devoid of fear, and La a rage to boot, he actually dropped 
 upon the giant's neck, seized his hair with one hand, and 
 punched his head with the other. The giant's first im- 
 pulse was to laugh, but the weight and rapidity of the 
 blows speedily corrected that inclination. 
 
 "He! he! Ah! ha! halloo! oh! ho! Holy saints! 
 here ! help ! or I must throttle the imp ! I can't ! O Lord ! 
 I'll split your skull against the " and he made a wild 
 run backward at the balcony. Giles saw his danger, 
 seized the balcony in time with both hands, and whipped 
 over it just as the giant's head came against it with a
 
 64 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 stunning crack. The people roared with laughter and 
 exultation at the address of their little champion. The 
 indignant giant seized two of the laughers, knocked them 
 together like dumb-bells, shook them, and strewed them 
 flat (Catherine shrieked, and threw her apron over Giles), 
 then strode wrathfully away after the party. This inci- 
 dent had consequences no one then present foresaw: it 
 made Mr. Giles a companion of princes. Its immediate 
 results were agreeable. The Tergovians turned proud 
 of him, and after this listened with more affability to his 
 prayers for parchment. For Giles drove a regular trade 
 with his brother Gerard hi this article. That is to say, 
 he went about and begged it gratis, and Gerard gave 
 him coppers for it. 
 
 On the afternoon of the same day Catherine and her 
 daughter were chatting together about their favorite 
 theme Gerard, his goodness, his benefice, and the 
 brightened prospects of the whole family. 
 
 Their good luck had come to them in the very shape 
 they would have chosen ; besides the advantages of a 
 benefice such as the Countess Charolois would not dis- 
 dain to give, there was the feminine delight at having a 
 priest, a holy man, in their own family. He will marry 
 Cornells, and Sybrandt : for they can marry (good house- 
 wives), now, if they will : " Gerard will take care of you 
 and Giles when we are gone. Yes, mother, and we can 
 confess to him instead of to a stranger," said Kate. 
 
 " Ay, girl ! and he can give the sacred oil to your father 
 and me, and close our eyes, when our time comes." 
 
 " Oh, mother ! not for many, many years, I do pray 
 Heaven. Pray don't speak of that ; it always makes me 
 sad. I hope I shall go before you, mother dear. No ! 
 let us be gay to-day. I am out of pain, mother quite 
 out of all pain ; it does seem so strange ; and I feel so 
 bright and happy, that Mother, can you keep a se- 
 cret?"
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 65 
 
 " Nobody better, child. Why, you know I can." 
 
 " Then I will show you something so beautiful. You 
 never saw the like I trow. Only Gerard must never 
 know ; for I am sure he means to surprise us with it, he 
 covers it up so, and sometimes he carries it away alto- 
 gether." 
 
 Kate took her crutches and moved slowly away, leav- 
 ing her mother in an exalted state of curiosity. She soon 
 returned with something in a cloth, uncovered it, and 
 there was a lovely picture of the Virgin, with all her in- 
 signia, and wearing her tiara over a wealth of beautiful 
 hair, which flowed loose over her shoulders. Catherine, 
 at first, was struck with awe. 
 
 "It is herself!" she cried ; " it is the Queen of Heaven! 
 I never saw one like her to my mind before." 
 
 " And her eyes, mother ! lifted to heaven, as if they 
 belonged there, and not to a mortal creature. And her 
 beautiful hair of burning gold !" 
 
 "And to think I have a son that can make the saints 
 live again upon a piece of wood !" 
 
 "The reason is, he is a young saint himself, mother. 
 He is too good for this world ; he is here to portray the 
 blessed, and then to go away and be with them forever." 
 
 Ere they had half done admiring it a strange voice was 
 heard at the door. By one of the furtive instincts of 
 their sex they hastily hid the picture in the cloth, though 
 there was no need. And the next moment in came, cast- 
 ing his eyes furtively around, a man that had not entered 
 the house this ten years Ghysbrecht Van Swieten. 
 
 The two women were so taken by surprise that they 
 merely stared at him and at one another, and said, "The 
 Burgomaster !" in a tone so expressive that Ghysbrecht 
 felt compelled to answer it. 
 
 " Yes ! I own the last tune I came here was not on a 
 friendly errand. Men love their own interest Gerard's 
 and mine were contrary. Well ! let this visit atone the 
 last. To-day I come on your business, and none of mine."
 
 66 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Catherine and her daughter exchanged a swift glance of 
 contemptuous incredulity. They knew the man better 
 than he thought. " It is about your son Gerard." 
 
 "Ay! ay! you want him to work for the town for 
 nothing. He told us." 
 
 " I come on no such errand. It is to let you know he 
 has fallen into bad hands." 
 
 " Now Heaven and the saints forbid ! Man, torture 
 not a mother ! Speak out, and quickly : speak ere you 
 have time to coin falsehood : we know you." 
 
 Ghysbrecht turned pale at this affront, and spite min- 
 gled with the other motives that brought him here. 
 
 "Thus it is, then," said he, grinding his teeth, and 
 speaking very fast. " Your son Gerard is more like to 
 be a father of a family than a priest : he is forever with 
 Margaret, Peter Brandt's red-haired girl, and loves her 
 like a cow her calf." 
 
 Mother and daughter both burst out laughing. Ghys- 
 brecht stared at them. 
 
 "What, you knew it?" 
 
 " Carry this tale to those who know not my son Gerard. 
 Women are naught to him." 
 
 " Other women, mayhap. But this one is the apple 
 of his eye to him, or will be, if you part them not, and 
 soon. Come, dame, don't make me waste time and 
 friendly counsel : my servant has seen them together a 
 score times, handed, and reading babies in one another's 
 eyes like you know, dame you have been young too." 
 
 " Kate, I am ill at ease. Yes, I have been young, and 
 know how blind and foolish the young are. My heart ! 
 He has turned me sick in a moment. Oh, Kate, if it 
 should be true !" 
 
 " No, no !" cried Kate, eagerly. " Gerard might love 
 a young woman : all young men do : I can't think what 
 they see in them to love so : but if he did he would let 
 us know : he would not deceive us. You wicked man, 
 you will kill my mother. No, dear mother, don't look
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 67 
 
 so ! Gerard is too good to love a creature of earth. His 
 Jove is for Our Lady and the saints. Ah ! I will show 
 you the pict There : if his heart was earthly could he 
 paint the Queen of Heaven like that ? look ! look !" and 
 she held the picture out triumphantly, and more radiant 
 and beautiful in this moment of enthusiasm than ever 
 dead picture was or will be, overpowered the Burgo- 
 master with her eloquence and her feminine proof of 
 Gerard's purity. His eyes and mouth opened, and re- 
 mained open : in which state they kept turning, face and 
 all, as if on a pivot, from the picture to the women, and 
 from the women to the picture. 
 
 " Why, it is herself!" he gasped. 
 
 " Isn't it ?" cried Kate, and her hostility was softened. 
 " You admire it ? I forgive you for frightening us." 
 
 " Am I in a mad-house ?" said Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, 
 thoroughly puzzled. " You show me a picture of the 
 girl, and you say he painted it ; and that is a proof he 
 can not love her! Why, they all paint their sweet- 
 hearts, painters do." 
 
 "A picture of the girl?" exclaimed Kate, shocked. 
 " Fie ! this is not a girl ; this is the Virgin Mary." 
 
 " No ; no, it is Margaret Brandt." 
 
 " Oh, blind ! It is the Queen of Heaven." 
 
 " No ; only of Sevenbergen village." 
 
 " Profane man ! behold her crown !" 
 
 " Silly child ! look at her red hair ! Would the Virgin 
 be seen in red hair ? She who had the pick of all the 
 colors ten thousand years before the world began ?" 
 
 At this moment an anxious face was insinuated round 
 the edge of the open door : it was their neighbor Peter 
 Buysken. 
 
 "What is to do?" said he, in a cautious whisper. 
 " We can hear you all across the street. What on earth 
 is to do?" 
 
 " Oh, neighbor ! What is to do ? Why, here is the 
 Burgomaster blackening my Gerard."
 
 68 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " Stop !" cried Van Swieten. " Peter Buysken is come 
 in the nick of time. He knows father and daughter both ; 
 they cured him of the colic. Here, Peter, who is that ? 
 Now be silent, women, for one moment, if you can. Who 
 is that?" 
 
 Peter gave a start. " Well, to be sure !" was all his 
 
 reply. 
 
 " Who is it ?" repeated Ghysbrecht, impetuously. 
 
 Peter Buysken smiled. " Why, you know as well as I 
 do. But what have they put a crown on her for? I 
 never saw her in a crown, for my part." 
 
 " Man alive ! Can't you open your great jaws and just 
 speak a wench's name, to oblige three people ?" 
 
 " I'd do a great deal more to oblige one of you than 
 that, Burgomaster. If it isn't as natural as life !" 
 
 " Curge the man ! he won't, he won't curse him !" 
 
 " Why, what have I done now ?" 
 
 " Oh, sir !" said little Kate, " for pity's sake tell us ; are 
 these the features of one Margaret Brandt ?" 
 
 " A mirror is not truer, my little maid." 
 
 " But is it she, sir, for very certain ?" 
 
 " Why, don't I tell you it is ?" 
 
 " Now, why couldn't you say so at once ?" snarled 
 Ghysbrecht. 
 
 " I did say so as plain as I could speak," snapped Peter ; 
 and they growled over this small bone of contention so 
 zealously that they did not see Catherine and her daughter 
 had thrown their aprons over their heads, and were rock- 
 ing to and fro in deep distress. The next moment Gerard 
 senior came in, and stood aghast. Catherine, though her 
 face was covered, knew his footstep directly. 
 
 " That is my poor man," she sobbed. " Tell him, good 
 Peter Buysken, for I have not the courage to." 
 
 Gerard turned pale. The presence of the Burgo- 
 master in his house, after so many years of coolness, 
 coupled with his wife's and daughter's distress, made 
 him fear some heavy misfortune.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 69 
 
 " Richart ! Jacob !" he gasped. 
 
 " No ! no !" said the Burgomaster ; " it is nearer home, 
 and nobody is dead or dying, old friejid." 
 
 "God bless you, Burgomaster! Ah! something is 
 gone off my breast that was like to choke me. Now, 
 what is the matter ?" 
 
 Ghysbrecht then told him ah 1 that he told the women, 
 and showed the picture in evidence. 
 
 "Is that all!" said Gerard. "What are ye roaring 
 and bellowing for ? It is vexing, it is angering, but it is 
 not like death nor even sickness. Boys will be boys. He 
 will outgrow that disease : 'tis but skin deep." 
 
 But when Ghysbrecht told him that Margaret was a 
 girl of good character ; that it was not to be supposed she 
 would be so intimate if marriage had not been- spoken of 
 between them, Gerard's brow darkened. 
 
 "Marriage? that shall never be," said he, sternly. 
 " I'll stay that, ay, by force, if need be, as I would his 
 hand lifted to cut his throat. I'd do what old John 
 Koestein did t'other day." 
 
 "And what is that, in Heaven's name?" asked the 
 mother, suddenly removing her apron. 
 
 It was the Burgomaster who replied : 
 
 " He made me shut young Albert Koestein up in the 
 prison of the Stadthouse till he knocked under : it was 
 not long. Forty-eight hours, all alone, on bread and 
 water, cooled his hot stomach. 'Tell my father I am 
 his humble servant,' says he, ' and let me into the sun 
 once more the sun is worth ah 1 the wenches in the 
 world.'" 
 
 " Oh the cruelty of men !" sighed Catherine. 
 
 " As to that, the Burgomaster has no choice : it is the 
 law. And if a father says, ' Burgomaster, lock up my 
 son,' he must do it. A fine thing it would be if a father 
 might not lock up his own son." 
 
 " Well, well ! it won't come to that with me and my 
 son. He never disobeyed me in his life: he never shall.
 
 70 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Where is he? It is past supper-time. Where is he, 
 Kate ?" 
 
 " Alas, I know not, father." 
 
 "I know," said Ghysbrecht; "he is at Sevenbergen. 
 My servant met him on the road." 
 
 Supper passed in gloomy silence. Evening descended 
 no Gerard : eight o'clock came no Gerard. Then the 
 father sent all to bed except Catherine. 
 
 " You and I will walk abroad, wife, and talk over this 
 new care." 
 
 " Abroad, Gerard, at this time ! Whither ?" 
 
 " Why on the road to Sevenbergen." 
 
 "Oh no, no hasty words, father! Poor Gerard! he 
 never vexed you before." 
 
 " Fear me not. But it must end ; and I am not one 
 that trusts to-morrow with to-day's work." 
 
 The old couple walked hand in hand ; for, strange as it 
 may appear to some of my readers, the use of the elbow 
 to couples walking was never discovered in Europe till 
 centuries after this. They walked a long time in silence. 
 The night was clear and balmy. Such nights, calm and 
 silent, recall the past from the dead. 
 
 " It is a many years since we walked so late, my man," 
 said Catherine, softly. 
 
 " Ay, sweetheart, more than we shall see again. (Is he 
 never coming, I wonder ?)" 
 
 " Not since our courting days, Gerard." 
 
 " No. Ay, you were a buxom lass then." 
 
 "And you were a comely lad, as ever a girl's eye stole 
 a look at. I do suppose Gerard is with her now, as you 
 used to be with me. Nature is strong, and the same in 
 all our generations." 
 
 " Nay, I hope he has left her by now, confound her, or 
 we shall be here all night." 
 
 " Gerard !" 
 
 "Well?"
 
 A GOOD EIGHT. 71 
 
 " I have been happy with you, sweetheart, for all our 
 
 b s much happier, I trow, than if I had been a a 
 nun. You won't speak harshly to the poor child? One 
 can be firm without being harsh." 
 
 " Surely." 
 
 " Have you been happy with me, my poor Gerard ?" 
 
 " Why, you know I have. Friends I have known, but 
 none like you. Buss me, wife !" 
 
 " A heart to share joy and grief with is a great com- 
 fort to man or woman. Isn't it ?" 
 
 " It is so, my lass. 
 
 'It doth joy double, 
 And halveth trouble,' 
 
 runs the by-word. Ah ! here comes the young fool." 
 
 Catherine trembled and held her husband's hand tight. 
 The moon was bright, but they were in the shadow of 
 some trees, and their son did not see them. He came 
 singing hi the moonlight, and his face shining. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHILE the burgomaster was exposing Gerard at Ter- 
 gou, Margaret had a trouble of her own at Sevenbergen. 
 It was a housewife's distress, but deeper than we can well 
 conceive. She came to Martin Wittenhaagen, the old 
 soldier, with tears in her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Martin, there's nothing in the house, and Gerard 
 is coming, and he is so thoughtless. He forgets to sup 
 at home. When he puts down work then he runs to me 
 straight, poor soul : and often he comes here quite faint. 
 And to think I should have nothing to set before my 
 servant that loves me so dear." 
 
 Martin scratched his head. 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 " It is Thursday ; it is your day to shoot sooth to say, 
 I counted on you to-day."
 
 72 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " Nay," said the soldier, " I may not shoot when the 
 duke or his friends are at the chase : read else. I am no 
 scholar." And he took out of his pouch a parchment 
 with a grand seal. It purported to be a stipend and a 
 license given by Philip Duke of Burgundy to M. W. one 
 of his archers, in return for services in the wars, and for 
 a wound received at the duke's side. The stipend was 
 four merks yearly to be paid by the duke's almoner, and 
 the license was to shoot three arrows once a week, viz., 
 on Thursday, and no other day, in any of the duke's for- 
 ests in Holland, at any game but a seven-year-old buck 
 or a doe carrying fawn, proviso that the duke should not 
 be hunting on that day, or any of his friends. In this 
 case Martin was not to go and disturb the woods on 
 peril of his salary and head, etc. 
 
 Margaret sighed and was silent. 
 
 " Come, cheer up, mistress," said he, " for your sake 
 I'll peril my carcass ; I have done that for many a one 
 that was not worth your fore-finger. It is no such 
 mighty risk either. I'll but step into the skirts of the 
 forest, here. It is odds but they drive a hare or a fawn 
 within reach of my arrow." 
 
 " Martin, if I let you go you must promise me not to 
 go far, and not to be seen ; far better Gerard went sup- 
 perless than ill should come to you, faithful Martin." 
 
 The required promise given, Martin took his bow and 
 three arrows, and stole cautiously into the wood : it was 
 scarce a furlong distant. The horns were heard faintly 
 in the distance, and all the game was afoot. Come, 
 thought Martin, I shall soon fill the pot, and no one be 
 the wiser. He took his stand behind a thick oak that 
 commanded a view of an open glade, and strung his bow 
 a truly formidable weapon. It was of English yew, 
 six feet two inches high, and thick in proportion : and 
 Martin, broad chested, with arms all iron and cord, and 
 used to the bow from infancy, could draw a three-foot 
 arrow to the head, and when it flew, the eye could scarce
 
 A GOO1> FIGHT. 73 
 
 follow it, and the bow-string twanged as musical as a 
 harp. This bow had laid many a stout soldier low hi the 
 wars of the Hoecks and Cabbel-jaws. In those days a 
 battle-field was not a cloud of smoke ; the combatants 
 were few but the deaths many ; for they saw what they 
 were about, and fewer bloodless arrows flew than blood- 
 less bullets now. This tremendous weapon Martin now 
 leveled at a hare. She came cantering, then sat spright- 
 ly, and her ears made a capital V. The arrow flew, the 
 string twanged : but Martin had been in a hurry to pot 
 her, and lost her by an inch : the arrow seemed to strike 
 her, but it struck the ground close to her, and passed un- 
 der her belly like a flash, and hissed along the short grass 
 and disappeared. She jumped three feet perpendicular, 
 and away at the top of her speed. "Bungler!" said 
 Martin. A sure proof he was not an habitual bungler, 
 or he would have blamed the hare. He had scarcely 
 fitted another arrow to his string when a wood-pigeon 
 settled on the very tree he stood under. Aha ! thought 
 he, you are small, but dainty. This time he took more 
 pains ; drew his arrow carefully, loosed it smoothly, and 
 saw it, to all appearance, go clean through the bird, carry- 
 ing feathers skyward like dust. Instead of falling at his 
 feet, the bird, whose breast was torn, not fairly pierced, 
 fluttered feebly away, and, by a great effort, rose above 
 the trees, flew some fifty yards, and fell dead at last ; but 
 where he could not see for the thick foliage. 
 
 " Luck is against me," said he, despondently. But he 
 fitted another arrow, and eyed the glade keenly. Pres- 
 ently he heard a bustle behind him, and turned round 
 just in tune to see a noble buck cross the open, but too 
 late to shoot at him. He dashed his bow down with an 
 imprecation. At that moment a long, spotted animal 
 glided swiftly across after the deer ; its belly seemed to 
 touch the ground as it went. Martin took up his bow 
 hastily, he recognized the duke's leopard. " The hunters 
 will not be far from her," said he, " and I must not be seen." 
 
 D
 
 74 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 He plunged into the wood, following the buck and 
 leopard, for that was his way home. He had not gone 
 far when he heard an unusual sound ahead of him 
 leaves rustling violently, and the ground trampled. An 
 experienced huntsman, he suspected the cause, and hur- 
 ried in the direction. He found the leopard on the 
 buck's back, tearing him with teeth and claw, and the 
 buck running in a circle and bounding convulsively, with 
 the blood pouring down his hide. Then Martin formed 
 a desperate resolution to have the venison for Margaret. 
 He drew his arrow to the head, and buried it in the deer, 
 who, spite of the creature on his back, bounded high into 
 the air, and fell dead. The leopard went on tearing him 
 as if nothing had happened. 
 
 Martin hoped that the creature would gorge itself with 
 blood, and then let him take the venison. He waited 
 some minutes, then walked resolutely up, and laid his 
 hand on the buck's leg. The leopard gave a frightful 
 growl, and left off sucking blood. She saw Martin's 
 game, and was sulky and on her guard. What was to 
 be done ? Martin had heard that wild creatures can not 
 stand the human eye. Accordingly he stood erect and 
 fixed his on the leopard ; the leopard returned a savage 
 glance, and never took her eye off Martin. Then Martin, 
 continuing to look the beast down, soon obtained an ac- 
 tual instead of a conventional result. The leopard flew 
 at his head with a frightful yell, flaming eyes, and jaws 
 and claws distended. He had but just time to catch her 
 by the throat before her teeth could crush his face ; one 
 of her claws seized his shoulder and rent it, the other, 
 aimed at his cheek, would have been more deadly still, 
 but Martin was old-fashioned, and wore no hat but a 
 scapulary of the same stuff as his jerkin, and this scapu- 
 lary he had brought over his head like a hood ; the brute's 
 claw caught in the loose leather. Martin kept her teeth 
 off his face with some difficulty, and griped her throat 
 fiercely, and she kept rending his shoulder. It was like
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 75 
 
 blunt reaping-hooks grinding and tearing. The pain was 
 fearful : but, instead of cowing the old soldier, it put 
 his blood up, and he gnashed his teeth with rage almost 
 as fierce as hers, and squeezed her neck with ifon force. 
 The two pair of eyes blazed at one another and now 
 the man's were almost as furious as the brute's. She 
 found he was throttling her, and made a wild attempt to 
 free herself, in which she dragged his cowl all over his 
 face and blinded him, and tore her claw out of his shoul- 
 der, flesh and ah 1 : but still he throttled her with hand 
 and arm of iron. Presently her long tail, that was high 
 in the air, went down, and her body lost its elasticity, 
 and he held a choked and powerless thing : he griped it 
 still till all motion ceased, then dashed it to the earth ; 
 then, panting, removed his cowl : the leopard, lay still at 
 his feet with tongue protruding and bloody paw; and 
 for the first time terror fell on Martin. " I am a dead 
 man : I have slain the duke's leopard." He hastily seized 
 a few handfuls of leaves and threw them over her ; then 
 shouldered the buck and staggered away, leaving a trail 
 of blood all the way his own and the buck's. He burst 
 into Peter's house a horrible figure, bleeding and blood- 
 stained, and flung the deer's carcass down. 
 
 " There, no questions," said he, " but broil me a steak 
 of it ; for I am faint." 
 
 Margaret did not see he was wounded : she thought 
 the blood was all from the deer. 
 
 She busied herself at the fire, and the stout soldier 
 stanched and bound his own wound apart, and soon he 
 and Gerard and Margaret were supping royally on broil- 
 ed venison. 
 
 They were very merry; and Gerard, with wonderful 
 thoughtfulness, had brought a flask of Scheidam, and un- 
 der its influence Martin revived, and told them how the 
 venison was got, and thence to the feats of his youth. 
 
 Their mirth was suddenly interrupted. Margaret's 
 eye became fixed and fascinated, and her cheek pale with
 
 76 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 fear. She gasped, and could not speak, but pointed to 
 the window with trembling finger. Their eyes followed 
 hers, and there in the twilight crouched a dark form with 
 eyes like glow-worms. 
 
 It was the leopard ! 
 
 While they stood petrified, fascinated by the eyes of 
 green fire, there sounded in the wood a single deep bay. 
 It was the bay of a blood-hound. Martin trembled at it. 
 
 "They have lost her, and laid muzzled blood-hounds 
 on her scent. They will find her here, and the venison. 
 Good-by, friends, Martin Wittenhaagen ends here." 
 
 Gerard seized his bow, and put it into the soldier's 
 hands. 
 
 " Be a man," he cried, " shoot her, and fling her into 
 the wood ere they come up. Who will know ?" 
 
 More voices of hounds broke out, and nearer. 
 
 " Curse her !" cried Martin. " I spared her once ; now 
 she must die, or I, or both more likely ;" and he reared 
 his bow and drew his arrow to the head. 
 
 " No ! no !" cried Margaret, and seized the arrow ; it 
 broke in half; the pieces fell on each side the bow. The 
 air at the same time filled with the tongues of the 
 hounds ; they were hot upon the scent. 
 
 " What have you done, wench ? Yoxi have put the 
 halter round my throat." 
 
 "No!" cried Margaret. "I have saved you. Stand 
 back from the window both. Your knife, quick !" 
 
 She seized his long pointed knife, almost tore it out of 
 his girdle, and darted from the room. The house was 
 now surrounded with baying dogs and shouting men. 
 
 The glow-worm eyes moved not.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 79 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MAKGARET cut off a huge piece of venison, and ran to 
 the window, and threw it to the green eyes of fire. They 
 darted on it with a savage snarl : and there was a sound 
 of rending and crunching: at this moment the hound 
 uttered a bay so near and loud it rang through the 
 house, and the three at the window shrank together. 
 Then the leopard feared for her supper, and glided swift- 
 ly and stealthily away with it toward the woods, and the 
 very next moment horses and men and dogs came helter- 
 skelter past the window, and followed her full cry. 
 Martin and his companions breathed again ; the leopard 
 was swift, and would not be caught within a league of 
 their house. 
 
 To table once more, and Gerard drank to woman's 
 wit : " "Tis stronger than man's force," said he. 
 
 "Ay," said Margaret, "when those she loves are in 
 danger ; not else." 
 
 To-night Gerard staid with her longer than usual, and 
 went home prouder than ever of her, and happy as a 
 prince. Some little distance from home, under the shad- 
 ow of some trees, he encountered two figures ; they al- 
 most barred his way. 
 
 It was his father and mother. 
 
 A cold chill fell on him. 
 
 He stopped and looked at them ; they stood grim and 
 silent. He stammered out some words of inquiry : 
 
 " What brought them out so late ?" 
 
 "Why ask?" said his father; "you can guess why 
 we are here." 
 
 " Oh, Gerard !" said his mother, with a voice full of 
 reproach and yet of affection. 
 
 Gerard's heart quaked : he was silent.
 
 80 A GOOD FIGHT, ( 
 
 Then his father pitied his confusion, and said to him : 
 
 " Nay, you need not to hang your head. You are not 
 the first young fool that has been caught by a red cheek 
 and a pair of blue eyes." 
 
 " No, no !" put in Catherine ; " it was witchcraft. 
 Peter the Magician is well known for that." 
 
 " Come, Sir Priest," resumed his father, " you know 
 you must not meddle .with women folk. But give us 
 your promise to go no more to Sevenbergen, and here 
 all ends ; we won't be hard on you for one fault." 
 
 " I can't promise that, father." 
 
 " Not promise it, you young hypocrite ?" 
 
 " Nay, father, call me not so. I lacked courage to tell 
 you what I knew would vex you ; and right grateful am 
 I to that good friend, whoever he be, that has let you 
 know. 'Tis a load off my mind. Yes, father, I love 
 Margaret ; and call me not a priest, for a priest I will 
 never be. I will die sooner." 
 
 " That we shall see, young man. Come, gainsay me 
 no more ; you will learn what 'tis to offend a father." 
 
 Gerard held his peace, and the three walked home in 
 gloomy silence, broken only by a deep sigh or two from 
 Catherine. 
 
 From that hour the little house at Tergou was no 
 longer the abode of peace. Gerard was taken to task 
 next day before the whole family, and every voice was 
 loud against him, except little Kate's and the dwarf's, 
 who was apt to take his cue from her without knowing 
 why. As for Cornelis and Sybrandt, they were bitterer 
 than their father. Gerard was dismayed at finding so 
 many enemies, and looked wistfully into his little sister's 
 face ; her eyes were brimming at the harsh words show- 
 ered on one who but yesterday was the universal pet. 
 But she gave him no encouragement; she turned her 
 head away from him, and said : 
 
 " Dear, dear Gerard, pray to Heaven to cure you of 
 this folly."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 81 
 
 " What, are you against me too ?" said Gerard, sadly, 
 and he rose with a deep sigh, and left the house and 
 went to Sevenbergen. 
 
 The beginning of a quarrel, where the parties are 
 bound by affection though opposed in interest and senti- 
 ment, is comparatively innocent ; both are in the right at 
 first starting, and then it is that a calm, judicious friend, 
 capable of seeing both sides, is a gift from Heaven. For 
 the longer the dissension endures, the wider and deeper 
 it grows, by the fallibility and irascibility of human na- 
 ture ; these are not confined to either side, and finally 
 the invariable end is reached both in the wrong. 
 
 The combatants were unequally matched. Gerard 
 Senior was angry, Cornelis and Syferandt spiteful; but 
 Gerard, having a larger and more cultivated mind, saw 
 both sides where they saw but one, and had fits of irreso- 
 lution, and was not wroth, but unhappy. He was lonely, 
 too, in this struggle. He could open his heart to no one. 
 Margaret was a high-spirited girl ; he dared not tell her 
 what he had to endure at home ; she was capable of sid- 
 ing with his relations by resigning him, though at the 
 cost of her own happiness. Margaret Van Eyck had 
 been a great comfort to him on another occasion, but 
 now he dared not make her his confidante. Her own 
 history was well known. In early life she had many of- 
 fers of marriage, but refused them all for the sake of that 
 art to which a wife's and mother's duties are so fatal ; 
 thus she remained single, and painted with her brothers. 
 How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she 
 had got him, and declined it for the sake of that which 
 at his age she had despised and sacrificed so lightly. 
 
 Gerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the 
 other side had a horrible ally in Catherine Senior. This 
 good-hearted but uneducated woman could not, like her 
 daughter, act quietly and firmly ; still less could she act 
 upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at times, and so help- 
 ed him, for anger is a great sustainer of the courage ; at 
 D2
 
 82 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 others she turned round in a moment and made on- 
 slaughts on her own forces. To take a single instance 
 out of many. One day that they were all at home, 
 Catherine and all, Cornells said : " Our Gerard wed Mar- 
 garet Brandt ! Why, it is hunger marrying thirst." 
 
 " And what will it be when you marry ?" cried Cath- 
 erine. " Gerard can paint, Gerard can write, but what 
 can you do to keep a woman, ye lazy loon ? Naught but 
 wait for your father's shoes. Oh, we can see why you 
 and Sybrandt would not have the poor boy to marry. 
 You are afraid he will come to us for a share of our sub- 
 stance. And suppose he does, and suppose we give it 
 him ; it isn't yours to say nay, and mayhap never will be." 
 
 On these occasions Gerard smiled slily, and picked up 
 heart; and temporary confusion fell on Catherine's un- 
 fortunate allies. But at last, after more than six months 
 of irritation, came the climax. The father told the son, 
 before the whole family, he had ordered the Burgomaster 
 to imprison him in the Stadthouse rather than let him 
 marry Margaret. Gerard turned pale with anger at this, 
 but by a great effort held his peace. His father went on 
 to say, " And a priest you shall be before the year is out, 
 nilly willy." 
 
 " Is it so ?" cried Gerard. " Then hear me all. By 
 God and St. Bavon I swear I will never be a priest while 
 Margaret lives. Since force is to decide it, and not love 
 and duty, try force, father ; but force shall not serve you, 
 for the day I see the Burgomaster come for me, I leave 
 Tergou forever, and Holland too, and my father's house, 
 where it seems I have been valued all these years, not for 
 myself, but for what is to be got out of me." 
 
 And he flung out of the room white with anger and 
 desperation. 
 
 "There!" cried Catherine, "that comes of driving 
 young folk too hard. But men are crueler than tigers, 
 even to their own flesh and blood. Now, Heaven for- 
 bid he should ever leave us, married or single."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 83 
 
 As Gerard came out of the house, his cheeks pale and 
 his heart panting, he met Richt Heynes ; she had a mes- 
 sage for him ; Margaret Van Eyck desired to see him. 
 He found the old lady seated grim as a judge. She 
 wasted no time in preliminaries, but inquired coldly why 
 he had not visited her of late ; before he could answer, 
 she said in a sarcastic tone, "I thought we had been 
 friends, young sir." 
 
 At this Gerard Idoked the picture of doubt and con- 
 sternation. 
 
 " It is because you never told her you were in love," 
 said Richt Heynes, pitying his confusion. 
 
 " Silence, wench ! Why should he tell us his affairs ? 
 We are not his friends ; we hav not deserved his confi- 
 dence." 
 
 "Alas! my second mother," said Gerard, "I did not 
 dare to tell you my folly." 
 
 " What folly ? Is it folly to love ?" 
 
 " I am told so every day of my life." 
 
 " You need not have been afraid to tell my mistress ; 
 she is always kind to true lovers." 
 
 " Madam Richt I was afraid because I was told " 
 
 " Well ? you were told" 
 
 " That in your youth you scorned love, preferring art." 
 
 " I did, boy ; and what is the end of it ? Behold me 
 here a barren stock, while the women of my youth have 
 a troop of children at their side, and grandchildren at 
 their knee. I gave up the sweet joys of wifehood and 
 womanhood for what ? for my dear brothers ; they have 
 gone and left me long ago for my art ; it has left me 
 too. I have the knowledge still, but what avails that 
 when the hand trembles. No, Gerard ; I look on you as 
 my son. You are good, you are handsome, you are a 
 painter, though not like some I have known. I will nev- 
 er let you throw your youth away as I did mine : you 
 shall marry this Margaret. I have inquired, and she is a 
 good daughter. Richt here is a gossip. She has told
 
 84 'A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 me all about it. But that need not hinder you to tell 
 me." 
 
 Poor Gerard was overjoyed to be permitted to tell his 
 love and his happiness, and, above all, to praise Margaret 
 aloud, and to one who could understand what he loved 
 in her. 
 
 Soon there were two pair of wet eyes over his story ; 
 and when the poor boy saw that, there were three. 
 
 Women are justly famous for courage. Theirs is not 
 exactly the same quality as manly courage ; that would 
 never do, hang it all ; we should have to give up tram- 
 pling on them. No ; it is a vicarious courage. They nev- 
 er take part in a bull-fight by any chance ; but it is re- 
 marked that they sit at one unshaken by those tremors 
 and apprehensions for the combatants to which the male 
 spectator feeble-minded wretch ! is subject. Nothing 
 can exceed the resolution with which they have been 
 known to send forth men to battle : as some witty dog 
 says, " Les femmes sont tres braves avec le peau d'au- 
 trui." 
 
 By this trait Gerard now profited. Margaret and 
 Richt were agreed that a man should always take the 
 bull by the horns. Gerard's only course was to many 
 Margaret Brandt off-hand; the old people would come 
 to after a while, the deed once done. Whereas, the lon- 
 ger this misunderstanding continued on its present foot- 
 ing, the worse for all parties, especially for Gerard. 
 
 " See how pale and thin they have made him among 
 them." 
 
 "Indeed you are, Master Gerard," said Richt. "It 
 makes a body sad to see a young man so wasted and 
 worn. Mistress, when I met him in the street to-day, I 
 had like to have burst out crying he was so changed." 
 
 "And I'll be bound the others keep their color: eh, 
 Richt ? such as it is." 
 
 " Oh, I see no odds in them." 
 
 " Of course not. We painters are no match for boors.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 85 
 
 We are glass, they are stone. We can't stand the worry, 
 worry, worry of little minds ; and it is not for the good 
 of mankind we should be exposed to it. It is hard enough, 
 God knows, to design and paint a master-piece, without 
 having gnats and flies stinging us to death into the bar- 
 gain." 
 
 Exasperated as Gerard was by his father's threat of 
 violence, he listened to these friendly voices telling him 
 his most prudent course was rebellion. But though he 
 listened he was not convinced. 
 
 " I do not fear my father's violence," he said, " but I 
 do fear his anger. When it came to the point he would 
 not imprison me. I would marry Margaret to-morrow 
 if that was my only fear. No ; he would disown me. I 
 should take Margaret from her father, and give her a poor 
 husband, who would never thrive, weighed down by* his 
 parent's curse. Oh, madam ! I sometimes think if I could 
 but marry her secretly, and then take her away to some 
 country where my craft is better paid than in this ; and 
 after a year or two, when the storm had blown over, you 
 know, could come back with money in my purse, and say, 
 * My dear parents, we do not seek your substance, we but 
 ask you to love us once more as you used, and as we have 
 never ceased to love you' but, alas ! I shall be told these 
 are the dreams of an inexperienced young man." 
 
 The old lady's eyes sparkled. 
 
 " It is no dream, but a piece of wonderful common 
 sense in a boy ; it remains to be seen whether you have 
 spirit to carry out your own thought. There is a coun- 
 try, Gerard, where certain fortune awaits you at this mo- 
 ment. Here the arts freeze, but there they flourish, as 
 they never yet flourished in any age or land." 
 
 " It is Italy 1" cried Gerard. " It is Italy !" 
 
 " Yes, Italy ! where painters are honored like princes, 
 and scribes are paid three hundred crowns for copying a 
 single manuscript. Know you not that his Holiness the 
 Pope has written to every land for skillful scribes to copy
 
 86 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 the hundreds of precious manuscripts that are pouring 
 into that favored land from Constantinople, whence learn- 
 ing and learned men are driven by the barbarian Turks." 
 
 " Nay, I know not that ; but it has been the dream 
 and hope of my life to visit Italy, the queen of all the 
 arts. Oh, madam ! but the journey, and we are all so 
 poor." 
 
 " Find you the heart to go, I'll find the means. I know 
 where to lay my hand on ten golden angels to take you 
 to Rome ; and the girl will go with you if she loves you 
 as she ought." 
 
 They sat till midnight over this theme. And, after 
 that day, Gerard recovered his spirits, and seemed to 
 carry some secret talisman against all the gibes and the 
 harsh words that flew about his ears at home. 
 
 Besides the money she procured him for the journey, 
 Margaret Van Eyck gave him money's worth. Said she, 
 " I will tell you secrets that I learned from masters that 
 are gone from me, and have left no fellow behind. Even 
 the Italians know not every thing ; and what I tell you 
 now in Tergou you may sell dear in Florence. Note 
 my brother John's pictures : time, which fades all other 
 paintings, leaves his colors bright as the day they left 
 the easel. The reason is, he did nothing blindly, noth- 
 ing in a hurry. He trusted to no hireling to grind his 
 colors ; he did it himself, or saw it done. His panel was 
 prepared, and prepared again I will show you how a 
 year before he laid his color on. Most of them are quite 
 content to have their work sucked up and lost sooner 
 than not be in a hurry bad painters are always in a 
 hurry. Above all, Gerard, I warn you never boil your 
 oil; boiling it melts that vegetable dross into its very 
 heart, which it is our business to clear away ; for impure 
 oil is death to color. No ; take your oil and pour it into 
 a bottle with water. In a day or two the water will turn 
 muddy : that is muck from the oil. Pour the dirty wa- 
 ter carefully away, and add fresh. When that is poured
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 89 
 
 away, you will fancy the oil is clear. You are mistaken. 
 Richt, fetch me that 1" Richt brought a glass trough 
 with a glass lid fitting tight. " When your oil has been 
 washed in bottle, put it into this trough with water, and 
 put the trough in the sun all day. You will soon see the 
 water turbid again. But mark, you must not carry this 
 game too far, or the sun will turn your oil to varnish. 
 When it is as clear as crystal, and not too drying, drain 
 carefully, and cork it up tight. Grind your own prime 
 colors, and lay them on with this oil, and they shall live. 
 Hubert would put sand or salt in the water to clear the 
 oil quicker. But John used to say, 'Water will do it 
 best, if you but give water time.' Jan Van Eyck was 
 never in a hurry, and that is why the world will not for- 
 get him in a hurry." 
 
 This and several other receipts quae nunc perscribere 
 longum est Margaret gave him with sparkling eyes, and 
 Gerard received them like a legacy from Heaven, so in- 
 teresting are some things that read uninteresting. Thus 
 provided with money and knowledge, Gerard decided to 
 marry and fly with his wife to Italy. Nothing remained 
 now but to inform Margaret Brandt of his resolution, 
 and to publish the bans as quietly as possible. He went 
 to Sevenbergen earlier than usual on both these errands. 
 He began with Margaret ; told her of the Dame Van 
 Eyck's goodness, and the resolution he had come to at 
 last, and invited her co-operation. 
 
 She refused it plump. 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 " No, Gerard ; you and I have never spoken of your 
 family, but when you come to marriage " She stopped, 
 then began again. " I do think your father has no ob- 
 jection to me more than to another. He told Peter 
 Buysken as much, and Peter told me. But so long as
 
 90 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 he is so bent on your being a priest (you ought to have 
 told me this instead of I you), I could not marry you, 
 Gerard, dearly as I love you." 
 
 Gerard strove in vain to shake this resolution. He 
 found it very easy to make her cry, but impossible to 
 make her yield. Then Gerard was impatient and unjust. 
 
 " Very well !" he cried ; " then you are on their side, 
 and you wih 1 drive me to be a priest, for this must end 
 one way or another. My parents hate me in earnest, but 
 my lover only loves me in jest !" 
 
 And with this wild, bitter speech, he flung away home 
 again, and left Margaret weeping. 
 
 CHAPTER XIH. 
 
 WHEN a man misbehaves, the effect is curious on a 
 girl who loves him sincerely. It makes her pity him. 
 This, to some of us males, seems any thing but logical. 
 The fault is in our own eye, the logic is too swift for us. 
 The girl argues thus : " How unhappy, how vexed, poor 
 * * * must be ; him to misbehave !" 
 
 Margaret was full of this sweet womanly pity, when, 
 to her great surprise, scarce an hour and a half after he 
 left her, Gerard came running back to her with the frag- 
 ments of a picture in his hand, and panting with anger 
 and grief. 
 
 " There, Margaret ! see ! see ! the wretches ! Look at 
 their spite ! They have cut your portrait to pieces." 
 
 Margaret looked. And, sure enough, some malicious 
 hand had cut her portrait into five pieces. She was a 
 good girl, but she was not ice; she turned red to her 
 very forehead. 
 
 "Who did it?" 
 
 " Nay, I know not. I dared not ask ; for I should hate 
 the hand that did it, ay, till my dying day. My poor 
 Margaret! The beasts! the ruffians! Six months' work
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 91 
 
 eut out of my life, and nothing to show for it now. See, 
 they have hacked through your very face the sweet 
 face that every one loves who knows it. Oh, heartless, 
 merciless vipers !" 
 
 "Never mind, Gerard," said Margaret, panting. 
 " Since this is how they treat you for my sake you rob 
 him of my portrait, do you ? Well, then I give him the 
 original." 
 
 " Oh, Margaret !" 
 
 " Yes, Gerard ; since they are so cruel, I will be the 
 kinder: forgive me for refusing you. I will be your 
 wife to-morrow, if it is your pleasure." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE bans of marriage had to be read three times, as 
 with us ; but they were read on week-days, and the young 
 couple easily persuaded the cure to do the three readings 
 in twenty-four hours : he was new to the place, and their 
 looks spoke volumes in their favor. They were cried on 
 Monday at matins and at vespers ; and, to their great 
 delight, nobody from Tergou was in the church. The 
 next morning they were both there palpitating with anx- 
 iety, when, to their horror, a stranger stood up and for- 
 bade the bans, on the score that the parties were not of 
 age, and their parents not consenting. 
 
 Outside the church door, Margaret and Gerard held a 
 trembling and almost despairing consultation ; but, be- 
 fore they could settle any thing, the man who had done 
 them so ill a turn approached, and gave them to under- 
 stand that he was very sorry to interfere ; that his inclin- 
 ation was to further the happiness of the young: but 
 that in point of fact his only means of getting a living 
 was by forbidding bans : what then ? The young peo- 
 ple give me a crown, and I undo my work handsomely ; 
 tell the cure I was misinformed ; and all goes smoothly.
 
 92 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 "A crown? I will give you a golden angel to do 
 this," said Gerard, eagerly. The man consented as eager- 
 ly, and went with Gerard to the cure, and told him he 
 had made a ridiculous mistake, which a sight of the par- 
 ties had rectified. On this the cure agreed to marry the 
 young couple next day at 10: and the professional ob- 
 structer of bliss went home with Gerard's angel. Like 
 most of these very clev.er knaves, he was a fool, and pro- 
 ceeded to drink his angel at a certain hostelry hi Tergou, 
 where was a green devoted to archery and the common 
 sports of the day. There, being drunk, he bragged of 
 his day's exploit; and who should be there, imbibing 
 every word, but a great frequenter of the sport, the ne'er- 
 do-weel Sybrandt. Sybrandt ran home to tell his father ; 
 his father was not at home ; he was gone to Rotterdam 
 to buy cloth of the merchants. Catching his elder broth- 
 er's eye, he made him a signal to come out, and told him 
 what he had heard. 
 
 There are black sheep hi nearly every large family : 
 and these two were Gerard's black brothers. Idleness 
 is vitiating : waiting for the death of those we ought to 
 love is vitiating: and these two one-idea'd curs were 
 ready to tear any one to death that should interfere with 
 that miserable inheritance, which was their thought by 
 day and their dream by night. Their parents' parsimony 
 was a virtue; it was accompanied by industry, and its 
 motive was love of their offspring : but in these perverse 
 and selfish hearts that homely virtue was perverted into 
 avarice, than which no more fruitful source of crimes is 
 to be found hi nature. 
 
 They put their heads together, and agreed not to tell 
 their mother, whose sentiments were so uncertain, but to 
 go first to the Burgomaster. They were cunning enough 
 to see that he was averse to the match, though they 
 could not divine why. 
 
 Ghysbrecht Van Swieten saw through them at once ; 
 but he took care not to let them see through him. He
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 93 
 
 heard their story; and putting on magisterial dignity 
 and coldness, he said : 
 
 " Since the father of the family is not here, his duty 
 devolves on me, who am the father of the town. I know 
 your father's mind ; leave all to me : and, above all, tell 
 no woman a word of all this, least of all the women that 
 are in your own house : for chattering tongues mar the 
 wisest counsels." 
 
 So he dismissed them a little superciliously : he was 
 ashamed of his confederates. 
 
 On their return home they found their brother Gerard 
 seated on a low stool at their mother's knee: she was 
 caressing his hair with her hand, speaking very kindly 
 to hun, and promising to take his part with his father 
 and thwart his love no more. The mam cause of this 
 change of mind was one that the reader will comprehend, 
 if he has ever known a woman of this kind. It was this. 
 She it was who in a moment of female irritation had cut 
 Margaret's picture to pieces. She had watched the effect 
 with some misgivings, and had seen Gerard turn pale as 
 death, and sit motionless like a bereaved creature, with 
 the pieces in his hands, and his eyes fixed on them till 
 tears came and blinded them. Then she was terrified at 
 what she had done ; and next her heart smote her bitter- 
 ly ; and she wept sore apart : but, being what she was, 
 dared not own it, but said to herself, "I'll not say a 
 word, but I'll make it up to him." And her bowels 
 yearned over her son, and her feeble violence died a nat- 
 ural death, and she was transferring her fatal alliance to 
 Gerard when the two black sheep came in. Gerard knew 
 nothing of the immediate cause ; on the contrary, her 
 kindness made this novice ashamed of a suspicion he had 
 for a moment entertained that she was the depredator ; 
 and he kissed her again and again, and went to bed hap- 
 py as a prince to think his mother was his mother once 
 more at the very crisis of his fate.
 
 94 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 The next morning, at 10 o'clock, Gerard and Margaret 
 were in the church at Sevenbergen he radiant with joy, 
 she with blushes. Peter was also there, and Martin 
 Wittenhaagen, but no other friend. Secrecy was every 
 thing. Margaret had declined Italy. She could not 
 leave her father; he was too learned and too helpless. 
 But it was settled they should retire into Flanders for a 
 few weeks until the storm should be blown over at Ter- 
 gou. The cure did not keep them waiting long, though 
 it seemed an age. Presently he stood at the altar, and 
 called them to him. They went hand in hand, the hap- 
 piest in Holland. The cure opened his book. 
 
 But ere he had uttered a single word of the sacred rite, 
 a harsh voice cried " Forbear !" And the constables of 
 Tefgou came up the aisle and seized Gerard in the name 
 of the law. Martin's long knife flashed out directly. 
 
 "Forbear, man!" cried the Priest. "What! draw 
 your weapon in a church ! And you who interrupt this 
 holy sacrament what means this impiety ?" 
 
 " There is no impiety, father," said the Burgomaster's 
 servant respectfully. "This young man would marry 
 against his father's will, and his father has prayed our 
 Burgomaster to deal with him according to the law. 
 Let him deny it if he can." 
 
 " Is this so, young man ?" 
 
 Gerard hung his head. 
 
 " We take him to Rotterdam to abide the sentence of 
 the duke." 
 
 At this Margaret uttered a cry of despair, and the 
 young creatures, who were so happy a moment ago, fell 
 to sobbing in one another's arms so piteously that the 
 instruments of oppression drew back a step, and were 
 ashamed ; but one of them that was good-natured step- 
 ped up under pretense of separating them, and whispered : 
 
 "Rotterdam? it's a lie! We but take him to our 
 Stadthouse." 
 
 They took him away on horseback, on the road to
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 97 
 
 Rotterdam ; and, after a dozen halts, and by sly detours, 
 to Tergou. Just outside the town they were met by a 
 rude vehicle covered with canvas. Gerard was put into 
 this, and about five in the evening was secretly conveyed 
 into the prison of the Stadthouse. He was taken up 
 several nights of stairs, and thrust into a 'small room 
 lighted only by a narrow window, with a vertical iron 
 bar. The whole furniture was a huge oak chest. 
 
 Imprisonment in those days was one of the high roads 
 to death. It is horrible in its mildest form ; but in these 
 days it implied cold, unbroken solitude, torture, starva- 
 tion, and often poison. Gerard felt he was in the hands 
 of an enemy. 
 
 " Oh, the look that man gave me on the road to Rot- 
 terdam. There is more here than my father's wrath. I 
 doubt I shall see no more the light of day." And he 
 kneeled down and commended his soul to God. 
 
 Then he rose and sprang at the iron bar of the window 
 and clutched it. This enabled him, by pressing his knees 
 against the wall, to look out. It was but for a minute ; 
 but in that minute he saw a sight that none but a captive 
 can appreciate. 
 
 He saw Martin Winterhaagen's back. 
 
 Martin was sitting quietly fishing in the brook near 
 the Stadthouse. 
 
 Gerard sprang again at the window, and whistled. 
 Martin instantly showed that he was watching much 
 harder than he was fishing. He turned hastily round 
 and saw Gerard ; made him a signal, and taking up his 
 line and bow went quickly off. 
 
 Gerard saw by this that his friends were not idle, yet 
 he had rather Martin had staid ; the very sight of him 
 was a comfort. He held on, looking at the soldier's re- 
 tiring form as long as he could ; then falling back some- 
 what heavily, wrenched the rusty iron bar held only by 
 rusty iron nails away from the stone-work just as Ghys- 
 brecht Van Swieten opened the door stealthily behind 
 
 E
 
 98 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 him. The Burgomaster's eye fell instantly on the iron, 
 and then glanced at the window ; but he said nothing. 
 The window was eighty feet high ; and if Gerard had a 
 fancy for jumping out, why should he balk it ? He 
 brought a brown loaf and a pitcher of water, and set 
 them on the chest in solemn silence. Gerard's first im- 
 pulse was to brain him with the iron bar, and fly down 
 the stairs ; but the Burgomaster seeing something wick- 
 ed in his eye, gave a little cough, and three stout fellows, 
 armed, showed themselves directly at the door. 
 
 " My orders are to keep you thus until you shall bind 
 yourself by an oath to leave Margaret Brandt and return 
 to the church to which you have belonged from infancy." 
 
 " Death sooner !" 
 
 " As you please." And the Burgomaster retired. 
 
 Martin went with all speed to Sevenbergen ; there he 
 found Margaret pale and agitated, but full of resolution 
 and energy. She was just finishing a letter to the Count- 
 ess Charolois, appealing to her against the violence and 
 treachery of Ghysbrecht. 
 
 " Courage !" cried Martin, on entering. " I have found 
 him. He is in the haunted tower ; right at the top of it. 
 Ay ! I know the place : many a poor fellow has gone up 
 there straight, and come down feet foremost." 
 
 He then told them how he had looked up and seen 
 Gerard's face at a window that was like a slit in the wall. 
 
 " Oh, Martin ! how did he look ?" 
 
 " What mean you ? He looked like Gerard Gerards- 
 soen." 
 
 " But was he pale ?" 
 
 "A little." 
 
 " Looked he anxious ? Looked he like one doomed ?" 
 
 " Nay, nay ; as bright as a pewter pot." 
 
 " You mock me. Ah ! then that was at sight of you. 
 He counts on us. Oh! what shah" we do? Martin, 
 good friend, take this at once to Rotterdam."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 99 
 
 Martin held' out his hand for the letter, but was inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 Peter had sat silent all this time, but pondering, and, 
 contrary to his usual custom, keenly attentive to what 
 was going on around him. 
 
 " Put not your trust in princes," said he. 
 
 " Alas ! what else have we to trust in ?" 
 
 " Knowledge." 
 
 " Alas, father ! your learning will not serve us here." 
 
 " How know you that ? Wit has been too strong for 
 iron bars ere to-day." 
 
 " Ay, father ; but nature is stronger than wit, and she 
 is against us. Think of the height 1 No ladder in Hol- 
 land might reach." 
 
 " I need no ladder : what I need is a gold crown." 
 
 " Nay, I have money, for that matter. I have nine 
 angels. Gerard gave them me to keep; but what do 
 they avail ? The Burgomaster will not be bribed to let 
 Gerard free." 
 
 " What do they avail ? Give me but one crown, and 
 the young man shall sup with us this night." 
 
 Peter spoke so eagerly and confidently, that for a 
 moment Margaret felt hopeful ; but she caught Martin's 
 eye dwelling upon him with an expression of benevolent 
 contempt. 
 
 " It passes the powera of man's invention," said she, 
 with a deep sigh. 
 
 " Invention ?" cried the old man. " A fig for inven- 
 tion ! What need we invention at this time of day ? 
 Every thing has been said that is to be said, and done 
 that can be done. I shall tell you how a Florentine 
 knight was shut up in a tower higher than Gerard's : yet 
 did his faithful squire stand at the tower foot and get 
 him out, with no other engine than that in your hand, 
 Martin, and certain kickshaws I shall buy for a crown." 
 
 Martin looked at his bow, and turned it round in his 
 hand ; and seemed to interrogate it. But the examina- 
 tion left him as incredulous as before.
 
 100 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Then Peter told them his story, how the faithful squire 
 got the knight out of a high tower at Brescia. The 
 manoeuvre, like most things that are really scientific, was 
 so simple, that now their wonder was they had taken for 
 impossible a thing which was not even difficult. 
 
 The letter never went to Rotterdam. They trusted 
 to Peter's learning and their own dexterity. 
 
 It was nine o'clock on a clear moonlight night ; Gerard, 
 senior, was still away ; the rest of his little family had 
 been some time abed. 
 
 A figure stood by the dwarf's bed. It was white, and 
 the moonlight shone on it. 
 
 With an unearthly noise, between a yell and a snarl, 
 the gymnast rolled off his bed and under it by a single 
 unbroken movement. A soft voice followed him in his 
 retreat. 
 
 " Why, Giles, are you afearcl of me ?" 
 
 At this, Giles's head peeped cautiously out, and he saw 
 it was only his sister Kate. 
 
 She put her finger to her lips. " Hush ! lest the wick- 
 ed Cornelis or the wicked Sybrandt hear us." 
 
 She then revealed to Giles that she had heard Cornelis 
 and Sybrandt mention Gerard's name ; and being herself 
 in great anxiety at his not coming home all day, had 
 listened at their door, and had made a fearful discovery. 
 Gerard was in prison, in the haunted tower of the Stadt- 
 house. He was there it seemed by their father's author- 
 ity. But here must be some treachery; for how could 
 their father have ordered this cruel act ? he was at Rot- 
 terdam. She ended by entreating Giles to bear her 
 company to the foot of the haunted tower, to say a word 
 of comfort to poor Gerard, and let him know their father 
 was absent, and would be sure to release him on his re- 
 turn. 
 
 " Dear Giles, I would go alone, but I am afeard of the 
 spirits that men say do haunt the tower : but with you I 
 shall not be afeard."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 101 
 
 " Nor I with you," said Giles. " I don't believe there 
 are any spirits in Tergou. I never saw one. This last 
 was the likest one ever I saw ; and it was only you, 
 Kate, after all." 
 
 In less than half an hour Giles and Kate opened the 
 house door cautiously and issued forth. She made him 
 carry a lantern, though the night was bright. "The 
 lantern gives me more courage against the evil spirits," 
 said she. 
 
 The first day of imprisonment is very trying, especial- 
 ly if to the horror of captivity is added the horror of 
 utter solitude. I observe that in our own day a great 
 many persons commit suicide during the first twenty-four 
 hours of the solitary cell. This is doubtless why our 
 Jairi abstain so carefully from the impertinence of watch- 
 ing their little experiment upon the human soul at that, 
 stage of it. 
 
 As the sun declined, Gerard's heart too sank and sank : 
 with the waning light, even the embers of hope went 
 out. He was faint, too, with hunger ; for he was afraid 
 to eat the food Ghysbrecht had brought him : and hun- 
 ger alone cows men. He sat upon the chest, his arms and 
 his head drooping before him, a picture of despondency. 
 Suddenly something struck the wall beyond him very 
 sharply, and then rattled on the floor at his feet. It was 
 an arrow ; he saw the white feather. A chill ran through 
 him they meant then to assassinate him from the out- 
 side. He crouched. No more missiles came. He crawl- 
 ed on all fours, and took up the arrow : there was no 
 head to it. He uttered a cry of hope : had a friendly 
 hand shot it ? He took it up, and felt it all over : he 
 found a soft substance attached to it. Then one of his 
 eccentricities was of grand use to him. His tinder-box 
 enabled him to strike a light : it showed him two things 
 that made his heart bound with delight, none the less 
 thrilling for being somewhat vague. Attached to the
 
 102 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 arrow was a skein of silk, and on the arrow itself were 
 words written. 
 
 How his eye devoured them, his heart panting the 
 while! 
 
 tDeil beiot)eb, make fast the silk to thjj knife anb 
 lower to us; but holb thg enb fast; then count an 
 hrmbreb anb bratn up. 
 
 Gerard seized the oak chest, and with almost super- 
 human energy dragged it to the window : a moment ago 
 he could not have moved it. Standing on the chest and 
 looking down he saw figures at the tower foot. They 
 were so indistinct they looked h'ke one huge form. He 
 waved his bonnet to them with trembling hand : then he 
 undid the silk rapidly but carefully, and made one end 
 fast to his knife, and lowered it tUl it ceased to draw. 
 Then he counted a hundred. Then pulled the silk care- 
 fully up : it came up a little heavier. At last he came to 
 a large knot, and by that knot a stout whipcord was 
 attached to the silk. What might this mean ? While 
 he was puzzling himself Margaret's voice came up to him, 
 low but clear. " Draw up, Gerard, till you see liberty in 
 your hand." At the word Gerard drew the whipcord 
 line up, and drew and drew till he came to another knot, 
 and found a cord of some thickness take the place of the 
 whipcord. He had no sooner begun to draw this up 
 than he found that he had now a heavy weight to deal 
 with. Then the truth suddenly flashed on him, and he 
 went to work, and pulled and pulled till the perspiration 
 rolled down him; the weight got heavier and heavier, 
 and at last he was well-nigh exhausted; looking down 
 he saw in the moonlight a sight that revived him : it was 
 as it were a great snake coming up to him out of the 
 deep shadow cast by the tower. He gave a shout of 
 joy, and a score more wild pulls, and lo! a stout new 
 rope touched his hand : he hauled and hauled, and drag- 
 ged the end into his power, and instantly passed it
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 103 
 
 through both handles of the chest in succession, and 
 knotted it firmly ; then sat for a moment to recover his 
 breath and collect his courage. The first thing was to 
 make sure that the chest was sound, and capable of re- 
 sisting his weight poised in mid-air. He jumped with 
 all his force upon it. At the third jump the whole side 
 burst open, and out scuttled the contents, a host of parch- 
 ments. 
 
 After the first start and misgiving this gave him, Gerard 
 comprehended that the chest had not burst but opened : 
 he had doubtless jumped upon the secret spring. Still 
 it shook in some degree his confidence in the chest's 
 powers of resistance ; so he gave it an ally : he took the 
 iron bar and fastened it with the small rope across the 
 large rope, and across the window. He now mounted 
 the chest, and from the chest put his foot through the 
 window, and sat half in and half out, with one hand on 
 that part of the rope which was inside. It was a nervous 
 moment ; but the free air breathed on his face and gave 
 him the courage to risk what we must all lose one day 
 for liberty. Many dangers awaited him, but the greatest 
 was the first getting on to the rope outside. Gerard re- 
 flected. Finally he put himself in the attitude of a swim- 
 mer, his body to the waist being in the prison, his legs 
 outside. Then holding the inside rope with both hands, 
 he felt with his feet for the outside rope, and when he 
 had got it he worked it hi between the palms of his feet, 
 and kept it there tight : then he put his left hand on the 
 sill and gradually wriggled out. Then he seized the iron 
 bar and for one fearful moment hung outside from it by 
 his right hand, while his left hand seized the rope down 
 at his knees. It was too tight against the wall for his 
 fingers to get round it higher up. The next moment he 
 left the bar and swiftly seized the rope with the right 
 hand too ; but in this manoeuvre his body necessarily de- 
 scended about a yard, and a stifled cry came up from be- 
 low. Gerard hung in mid-air. He clenched his teeth,
 
 104 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 and nipped the rope tight with his feet and gripped it 
 with his hands, and went down slowly hand below hand. 
 He passed by one huge rough stone after another. He 
 saw there was green moss on one or two. He looked 
 up and he looked down. The moon shone upon his 
 prison window: it seemed very near. The fluttering 
 figures below seemed an awful distance. It made him 
 dizzy to look down : so he fixed his eyes steadily on the 
 waU close to him, and went slowly down, down, down. 
 
 He passed a rusty slimy streak on the wall, it was some 
 ten feet long. The rope made his hands very hot. He 
 stole another look up. 
 
 The prison window was a good way off, now. 
 
 Down down down down. 
 
 The rope made his hands sore. 
 
 He looked up. The window was so distant, he ven- 
 tured now to turn his eyes downward again : and then, 
 not more than thirty feet below him were Margaret and 
 Martin, their faithful hands upstretched to catch him 
 should he fall. He could see their eyes and their teeth 
 shine. 
 
 " Take care, Gerard ! Oh, take care ! Look not 
 down." 
 
 " Fear me not," cried Gerard, joyfully, and eyed the 
 wall, but came down faster. 
 
 In another minute his feet were at their hands. They 
 seized him ere he touched the ground, and ah 1 three clung 
 together in one rapturous, panting embrace. 
 
 " Hush ! away in silence, dear one." 
 
 They stole along the shadow of the wall. 
 
 But ere they had gone many yards suddenly a stream 
 of light shot from an angle of the building, and lay across 
 their path like a barrier of fire, and they heard whispers 
 and footsteps close at hand. 
 
 " Back !" hissed Martin. " Keep in the shade." 
 
 They hurried back, passed the dangling rope, and made 
 for a little square projecting tower. They had barely
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 105 
 
 rounded it when the light shot trembling past them, and 
 flickered uncertainly into the distance. 
 
 " A lantern !" groaned Martin, in a whisper. " They 
 are after us." 
 
 " Give me my knife," whispered Gerard. " I'll never 
 be taken alive." 
 
 "No, no!" murmured Margaret: "is there no way 
 out where we are ?" 
 
 " None, none ! but I carry six lives at my shoulder :" 
 and with the word, Martin strung his bow, and fitted an 
 arrow to the string: "in war never wait to be struck: 
 I will kill one or two ere they shall know where their 
 death comes from :" then, motioning his companions to 
 be quiet, he began to draw his bow, and ere the arrow 
 was quite drawn to the- head, he glided round the corner 
 ready to loose the string the moment the enemy should 
 ofier a mark. 
 
 Gerard and Margaret palpitated. They had never 
 seen life taken. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " I HOPE 'tis the Burgomaster that carries the light," 
 paid the escaped prisoner, panting with a strange mix- 
 ture of horror and exultation. The soldier, he knew, 
 would send an arrow through a burgher or a burgomas- 
 ter, as he would through a boar in a wood. 
 
 But who may foretell the future, however near ? The 
 bow, instead of remaining firm and loosing the deadly 
 shaft, was seen to waver first, then shake violently, and 
 the stout soldier staggered back to them, his knees 
 knocking and his cheeks blanched with fear. He let his 
 arrow fall, and clutched Gerard's shoulder. 
 
 " Let me feel flesh and blood," he gasped : " the haunt- 
 ed tower ! the haunted tower !" 
 
 His terror communicated itself to Margaret and Ge- 
 E2
 
 106 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 rard. They could hardly find breath to ask him what he 
 had seen. 
 
 " Hush !" he cried, " it will hear you. Up the wall ! 
 it is going ^lp the wall! Its head is on fire. Up the 
 wall, as mortal creatures walk upon green sward. If 
 you know a prayer, say it ! For hell is loose to-night." 
 
 " I have power to exorcise spirits," said Gerard, trem- 
 bling. " I will venture forth." 
 
 " Go alone, then !" said Martin, " I have looked on't 
 once and live." 
 
 Gerard stepped forth, and Margaret seized his hand 
 and held it convulsively, and they crept out. 
 
 Sure enough, a sight struck their eyes that benumbed 
 them as they stood. Half way up the tower, a creature 
 with fiery head, like an enormous glow-worm, was going 
 steadily up the wall : the body was dark, but its outline 
 visible, and the whole creature not much less than four 
 feet long. 
 
 At the foot of the tower stood a thing in white, that 
 looked exactly like the figure of a female. Gerard and 
 Margaret palpitated with awe. 
 
 " The rope the rope ! It is going up the rope not 
 the wall," gasped Gerard. 
 
 As they gazed, the glow-worm disappeared in Gerard's 
 late prison, but its light illuminated the cell inside and 
 reddened the window. The white figure stood motion- 
 less below. 
 
 Such as can retain their senses after the first prostra- 
 ting effect of the supernatural are apt to experience terror 
 in one of its strangest forms, a wild desire to fling them- 
 selves upon the terrible object. It fascinates them as 
 the snake the bird. The great tragedian Macready used 
 to render this finely in Macbeth at Banquo's second ap- 
 pearance. He flung himself with averted head at the 
 horrible shadow. This strange impulse now seized Mar- 
 garet. She put down Gerard's hand quietly, and stood 
 fascinated ; then, all in a moment, with a wild cry, dart-
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 109 
 
 ed toward the spectre. Gerard, not aware of the natu- 
 ral impulse I have spoken of, never doubted the evil one 
 was drawing her to her perdition. He fell on his knees. 
 " Exorcize vos. In nomine beata? MariaB, exorcize vos." 
 While he was shrieking his incantations in extremity 
 of terror, to his infinite relief he heard the spectre utter 
 a feeble cry of fear. To find that hell had also its little 
 weaknesses was encouraging. He redoubled his exor- 
 cisms, and presently he saw the shape kneeling at Mar- 
 garet's knees, and heard it praying piteously for mercy. 
 Poor little spectre ! It took Margaret for the ill spirit 
 of the haunted tower, come flying out on it to damn it. 
 
 Kate and Giles soon reached the haunted tower. 
 Judge their surprise when they found a new rope dang- 
 ling from the prisoner's window to the ground. 
 
 " I see how it is," said the inferior intelligence taking 
 facts as they came. " Our Gerard has come down this 
 rope. He has got clear. Up I go, and see." 
 
 " No, Giles, no !" said the superior intelligence blind- 
 ed by prejudice. " See you not this is glamour. This 
 rope is a line the evil one casts out to wile you to de- 
 struction. He knows the weaknesses of all our hearts ; 
 he has seen how fond you are of going up things. Where 
 should our Gerard procure a rope ? how fasten it in the 
 very sky like that? It is not in nature. Holy saints 
 protect us this night, for hell is abroad." 
 
 "Stuff!" said the dwarf: "the way to hell is down, 
 and this rope leads up. I never had the luck to go up 
 such a long rope. It may be years ere I fall in with such 
 a long rope all ready fastened for me. As well be knock- 
 ed on the head at once as never know enjoyment." 
 
 And he sprung on to the rope with a cry of delight, 
 as a cat jumps with a mew on a table where fish is. All 
 the gymnast was on fire ; and the only concession Kate 
 could gain from him was permission to fasten the lantern 
 on his neck first.
 
 110 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " A light scares the ill spirits," said she. 
 
 And so, with his huge arms, and legs like feathers, 
 Giles went up the rope faster than his brother came down 
 it. The light at the nape of his neck made a glow-worm 
 of him. His sister watched his progress with trembling 
 anxiety. Suddenly a female figure started out of the 
 solid masonry, and came flying at her with more than 
 mortal velocity. 
 
 Kate uttered a feeble cry. It was all she could, for 
 her tongue clove to her palate with terror. Then she 
 dropped her crutches, and sank upon her knees, hiding her 
 face and moaning : 
 
 " Take my body, but spare my soul !" etc. 
 
 Margaret (panting). " Why it is a woman !" 
 
 Kate (quivering). " Why it is a woman !" 
 
 Margaret. " How you frightened me." 
 
 Kate. "I am frightened enough myself. Oh! oh! 
 oh!" 
 
 " This is strange. But the fiery-headed thing ! Yet 
 it was with you, and you are harmless. But why are 
 you here at this time of night ?" 
 
 " Nay, why are YOU ?" 
 
 " Perhaps we are on the same errand ? Ah ! you are 
 his good sister, Kate." 
 
 " And you are Margaret Brandt." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " All the better. You love him : you are here. Then 
 Giles was right. He has escaped." 
 
 Gerard came forward, and put the question at rest. 
 But all farther explanation was cut short by a horrible 
 unearthly cry, like a sepulchre exulting aloud : 
 
 " PABCHMENT ! PARCHMENT! PARCHMENT!" 
 
 At each repetition it rose in intensity. They looked 
 up, and there was the dwarf with his hands full of parch- 
 ments, and his face lighted with fiendish joy, and lurid 
 with diabolical fire. The h'ght being at his neck, a more 
 infernal " transparency" never startled mortal eye. With
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. Ill 
 
 the word the awful imp hurled the parchment down at 
 the astonished heads below. Down came the records, 
 like wounded wild ducks, some collapsed, others flutter- 
 ing, and others spread out and wheeling slowly down in 
 airy circles. They had hardly settled, when again the 
 sepulchral roar was heard : " Parchment ! Parchment !" 
 and down pattered and sailed another flock of documents 
 another followed: they whitened the grass. Finally, 
 the fire-headed imp, with his light body and horny hands, 
 slid down the rope like a falling star, and (business be- 
 fore sentiment) proposed to Gerard an immediate settle- 
 ment for the merchandise he had just delivered. 
 
 " Hush !" said Gerard ; " you speak too loud. Gather 
 them up and follow us to a safer place than this." 
 " Will you not come home with me, Gerard ?" 
 " I have no home." 
 
 " You shall not say so, Gerard. Who is more welcome 
 than you will be, after this cruel wrong, to your father's 
 house ?" 
 
 "Father? I have no father," said Gerard, sternly. 
 "He that was my father is turned my jailer. I have 
 escaped from his hands ; I will never come within their 
 reach again." 
 
 " An enemy did this, and not our father," said Kate. 
 And she told him what she had overheard Cornells 
 and Sybrandt say. But the injury was too recent to be 
 soothed. Gerard showed a bitterness of indignation he 
 had hitherto seemed incapable of. 
 
 "Cornells and Sybrandt are two ill curs that have 
 shown me their teeth and their heart a long while ; but 
 they could do no more. My father it is that gave the 
 Burgomaster authority, or he durst not have laid a finger 
 on me, that am a free burgher of this town. So be it, 
 then. I was his son I am his prisoner. He has played 
 his part I shall play mine. Farewell the town where I 
 was born and lived honestly, and was put in prison. 
 While there is another town left in creation, I'll never 
 trouble you again, Tergou."
 
 112 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " Oh, Gerard I Gerard !" 
 
 Margaret whispered her : u Do not gainsay him now. 
 Give his choler tune to cool !" 
 
 Kate turned quickly toward her. "Let me look at 
 your face !" The inspection was favorable, it seemed, for 
 she whispered: "It is a comely face, and no mischief- 
 maker's." 
 
 " Fear me not," said Margaret, in the same tone. " I 
 could not be happy without your love as well as Ge- 
 rard's." 
 
 " These are comfortable words," sobbed Kate. Then, 
 looking up, she said, " I little thought to like you so well. 
 My heart is willing, but my infirmity will not let me em- 
 brace you." 
 
 At this point Margaret turned gently round to Ge- 
 rard's sister, and kissed her lovingly. 
 
 " Often he has spoken of you to me, Kate, and often I 
 longed for this." 
 
 " You, too, Gerard," said Kate, " kiss me ere you go, 
 for my heart lies heavy at parting with you this night." 
 
 Gerard kissed her, and she went on her crutches home. 
 The last thing they heard of her was a little patient sigh. 
 Then the tears came and stood thick in Margaret's eyes ; 
 but Gerard was a man, and noticed it not. 
 
 As they turned to go to Sevenbergen the dwarf nudged 
 Gerard with his bundle of parchments, and sought re- 
 muneration. 
 
 Margaret dissuaded Gerard. " Why take what is not 
 ours ?" 
 
 " Oh ! spoil an enemy how you can." 
 
 " But may they not make this a handle for fresh vio- 
 lence?" 
 
 " How can they ? Think you I shall stay in Tergou 
 after this ? The Burgomaster robbed me of my liberty ; 
 I would take his life for it if I could." 
 
 " Oh fie, Gerard !" 
 
 "What? Is life worth more than liberty? Well, I
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 113 
 
 cun't take his life, so I take the first thing that comes to 
 hand." 
 
 He gave Giles a few small coins, with which the urchin 
 was gladdened, and shuffled after his sister. Margaret 
 and Gerard were speedily joined by Martin, and away to 
 Sevenbergen. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 GHTSBRECHT VAX SWIETEN kept the key of Gerard's 
 prison in his pouch. He waited till ten of the clock ere 
 he visited him ; for he said to himself, " A little hunger 
 sometimes does well ; it breaks them." At ten he crept 
 up the stairs with a loaf and pitcher, followed by his 
 trusty servant well armed. Ghysbrecht listened at the 
 door. There was no sound inside. A grim smile stole 
 over his features. "By this time he will be as down- 
 hearted as Albert Koestein was," thought he. He open- 
 ed the door. 
 
 No Gerard. 
 
 Ghysbrecht stood stupefied. 
 
 Although his face was not visible, his body seemed to 
 lose all motion in so peculiar a way, and then after a lit- 
 tle he fell a trembling so, that the servant behind him 
 saw there was something amiss, and crept close to him 
 and peeped over his shoulder. At sight of the empty 
 cell and the rope, and iron bar, he uttered a loud excla- 
 mation of wonder : but his surprise doubled when his mas- 
 ter, disregarding all else, suddenly flung himself on his 
 knees before the empty chest, and felt wildly all over it 
 with quivering hands, as if unwilling to trust his eyes in 
 a matter so important. 
 
 The servant gazed at him in utter bewilderment. 
 " Why, master, what is the matter ?' y 
 
 Ghysbrecht's pale lips worked as if he was going to 
 answer ; but they uttered no sound : his hands fell by 
 his side, and he stared into the chest.
 
 114 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " Why, master, what avails glaring into that empty 
 box ? He is not there. See here ! Note the cunning 
 of the young rogue ; he hath taken out the bar, and " 
 
 "GONE! GONE! GONE!" 
 
 " Gone ? What is gone ? Holy saints ! he is planet 
 struck." 
 
 " STOP THIEF !" shrieked Ghysbrecht, and sudden- 
 ly turned on his servant and collared him, and shook him 
 with rage. " D'ye stand there, knave, and see your mas- 
 ter robbed ? Run ! fly ! A hundred crowns to him that 
 finds it me again. No, no ! 'tis in vain. Oh, fool ! fool ! 
 to leave that in the same room with him. But none ever 
 found the secret spring before. None ever would but 
 he. It was to be. It is to be. Lost ! lost !" And his 
 years and infirmity now gained the better of his short- 
 lived phrensy, and he sank on- the chest muttering " lost ! 
 lost !" 
 
 " What is lost, master ?" said the servant kindly. 
 
 " House and lands and good name :" groaned Ghys- 
 brecht, and wrung his hands feebly. 
 
 " What ?" cried the servant. 
 
 This emphatic word and the tone of eager curiosity 
 struck on Ghysbrecht's ear, and revived his natural cun- 
 ning. 
 
 " I have lost the town records," stammered he, and he 
 looked askant at the man like a fox caught near a hen- 
 roost. 
 
 "Oh, is that all?" 
 
 "Is't not enough? What will the burghers say to 
 me? What will the burgh do?" Then he suddenly 
 burst out again, " A hundred crowns to him who shall 
 recover them ; all, mind, all that were in this box. If 
 one be missing, I give nothing." 
 
 " "Pis a bargain, master : the hundred crowns are in 
 my pouch. See you not that where Gerard Gerards- 
 soen is, there are the pieces of sheepskin you rate so 
 high ?"
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 115 
 
 " That is true ; that is true ; good Dierich : good faith- 
 ful Dierich ! All, mind, all, that were in the chest." 
 
 " Master, I will take the constables to Gerard's house 
 and seize him for the theft." 
 
 " The theft ? ay ! good ! very good ! .It is theft. I 
 forgot that. So as he is a thief now, we will put him in 
 the dungeons below : where the toads are and the rats. 
 Dierich, that man must never see daylight again. "Tis 
 his own fault. He must be prying. Quick, quick ! ere 
 he has time to talk, you know, time to talk." 
 
 In less than half an hour Dierich Brower and four con- 
 stables entered the hosier's house and demanded young 
 Gerard of the panic-stricken Catherine. 
 
 " Alas ! what has he done now ?" cried she : " that 
 boy will break my heart." 
 
 " Nay, dame, but a trick of youth," said Dierich. " He 
 hath but made off with certain skins of parchment, in a 
 frolic doubtless; but the Burgomaster is answerable to 
 the burgh for their safe keeping, so he is in care about 
 them: as for the youth, he will doubtless be quit for a 
 reprimand." 
 
 This smooth speech completely imposed on Catherine ; 
 but her daughter was more suspicious, and that suspicion 
 was strengthened by the disproportionate anger and dis- 
 appointment Dierich showed the moment he learned 
 Gerard was not at home had not been at home that 
 night. 
 
 " Come away then," said he roughly. " We are wast- 
 ing time." He added, vehemently, " I'll find him if he is 
 above ground." 
 
 Affection sharpens the wits, and often it has made an 
 innocent person more than a match for the wily. As 
 Dierich was going out, Kate made him a signal she 
 would speak with him privately. He bade his men go 
 on, and waited outside the door. She joined him. 
 
 " Hush !" said she, " my mother knows not. Gerard 
 has left Tergou."
 
 116 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " How !" 
 
 " I saw him last night." 
 
 " Ay ? Where ?" cried Dierich, eagerly. 
 
 " At the foot of the haunted tower." 
 
 " How did he get the rope ?" 
 
 " I know not ; but this I know ; my brother Gerard 
 bade me there farewell, and he is many leagues from 
 Tergou ere this. The town, you know, was always un- 
 worthy of him, and when it imprisoned him he vowed 
 never to set foot in it again. Let the Burgomaster be 
 content, then. He has imprisoned him, and he has driven 
 him from his birth-place and from his native land. What 
 need now to rob him and us of our good name ?" 
 
 This might at another moment have struck Dierich as 
 good sense ; but he was too mortified at this escape of 
 Gerard and the loss of a hundred crowns. 
 
 " What need had he to steal ?" retorted he, bitterly. 
 
 " Gerard stole not the trash : he but took it to spite 
 the Burgomaster, who stole his liberty ; but he shaU an- 
 swer to the Duke for it, he shah 1 . Look in the nearest 
 brook or sty, and maybe you shah 1 find these skins of 
 parchment you keep such a coil about." 
 
 " Think ye so, mistress ? think ye so ?" And Dierich's 
 eyes flashed. " Mayhap you know 'tis so." 
 
 " This I know, that Gerard is too good to steal, and too 
 wise to load himself with rubbish, going a journey." 
 
 "Give you good-day, then," said Dierich, sharply. 
 " The sheepskin you scorn, I value it more than the skin 
 of any he in Tergou." 
 
 And he went off hastily on a false scent. 
 
 Kate returned into the house and drew Giles aside. 
 
 " Giles, my heart misgives me ; breathe not to a soul 
 what I say to you. I have told Dirk Brower that Gerard 
 is out of Holland, but much I doubt he is not a league 
 from Tergou." 
 
 " Why, where is he, then ?" 
 
 " Where should he be, but with her he loves ? But
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 117 
 
 if so he must not loiter. These be deep and dark and 
 wicked men that seek him. Giles, I see that in Dirk 
 Brewer's eye makes me tremble. Oh ! why can not I 
 fly to Sevenbergen, and_bid him away? Why am I not 
 lusty and active like other girls? God forgive me for 
 fretting at His will ; but I never felt till now what it is 
 to be lame and, weak and useless. But you are strong, 
 dear Giles," added she coaxingly " you are very strong." 
 
 "Yes, I am strong!" thundered Perpusillus; then, 
 catching sight of her meaning, " but I hate to go on foot," 
 he added, sulkily. 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! who will help me if you will not ? Dear 
 Giles, do you not love Gerard ?" 
 
 " Yes, I like him best of the lot. I'll go to Seven- 
 bergen on Peter Buysken his mule. Ask you him, for 
 he won't lend her me." 
 
 Kate remonstrated. The whole town would follow 
 him. It would be known whither he was gone, and 
 Gerard be in worse danger than before. 
 
 Giles parried this by promising to ride out of the town 
 the opposite way, and not turn the mule's head toward 
 Sevenbergen till he had got rid of the curious. 
 
 Kate then assented, and borrowed the mule. She 
 charged Giles with a short but meaning message, and 
 made him repeat it after her, over and over, till he could 
 say it word for word. 
 
 Giles started on the mule, and little Kate retired, and 
 did the last thing now in her power for her beloved 
 brother : prayed on her knees long and earnestly for his 
 safety. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 GEKARD and Margaret went gayly to Sevenbergen in 
 the first flush of recovered liberty, and successful adven- 
 ture. But these soon yielded to sadder thoughts. Nei-
 
 118 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 ther of them attached any importance to the abstraction 
 of the sheepskins : but Gerard was an escaped prisoner, 
 and liable to be retaken and perhaps punished ; and there- 
 fore he and Margaret would have to part for a time. 
 Moreover he had conceived a hatred to his native place. 
 Margaret wished him to leave the country for a while, 
 but at the thought of his going to Italy her heart faint- 
 ed. Gerard, on the contrary, was reconciled to leaving 
 Margaret only by his desire to visit Italy, and his strong 
 conviction that there he should earn money and reputa- 
 tion, and remove every obstacle to their marriage. He 
 had already told her all that the demoiselle Van Eyck 
 had said to him. He repeated it, and reminded Margaret 
 that the gold pieces were only given him to go to Italy 
 with. The journey to Italy was clearly for Gerard's 
 interest. He was a craftsman and an artist, lost in this 
 boorish place. In Italy they would know how to value 
 him. On this ground, above all, the unselfish girl gave 
 her consent ; but many tender tears came with it, and at 
 that Gerard, young and loving as herself, cried bitterly 
 with her, and often they asked one another what they had 
 done, that so many different persons should be their ene- 
 mies, and combine, as it seemed, to part them. 
 
 They sat hand in hand till midnight, now deploring 
 their hard fate, now drawing bright and hopeful pictures 
 of the future, in the midst of which Margaret's tears 
 would suddenly flow, and then poor Gerard's eloquence 
 would die away in a sigh. 
 
 The morning found them resigned to part, but neither 
 had the courage to say when ; and much I doubt wheth- 
 er the hour of parting ever would have struck. 
 
 But about three in the afternoon, Giles, who had made 
 a circuit of many miles to avoid suspicion, rode up to the 
 door. They both ran out to him, eager with curiosity. 
 He soon turned that light feeling to dismay. 
 
 " Brother Gerard," cried he, in his tremendous tones, 
 " Kate bids you run for your life. They charge you with
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 119 
 
 theft ; you have given them a handle. Think not to ex- 
 plain. Hope not for justice in Tergou ! The parchments 
 you took they are but a blind. She hath seen your death 
 in the men's eyes : a price is on your head. Fly ! For 
 Margaret's sake and all who love you, loiter not life away, 
 but fly 1" 
 
 It was a thunder-clap, and left two pale faces looking 
 at one another, awestruck. 
 
 Then Giles, who had hitherto but uttered by rote what 
 Catherine bade him, put in a word of his own. 
 
 " All the constables were at our house after you, and 
 so was Dirk Brower. Kate is wise, Gerard, Best give 
 ear to her rede, and fly." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Gerard," cried Margaret, wildly. " Fly on 
 the instant. Ah ! those parchments ; my mind misgave 
 me : why did I let you take them ?" 
 
 " Margaret, they are but a blind : Giles says so ; no 
 matter, the old caitiff shall never see them again ; I will 
 not go till I have hidden his treasure where he shall nev- 
 er find it." Gerard then, after thanking Giles warmly, 
 bade him farewell, and told him to go back, and tell Kate 
 he was gone. " For I shall be gone ere you reach home," 
 said he. He shouted for Martin ; and told him what had 
 happened, and begged him to go a little way toward 
 Tergou, and watch the road. 
 
 " Ay !" said Martin, " and if I see Dirk Brower, or any 
 of his men, I will shoot an arrow into the oak-tree that 
 is in our garden ; and on that you must run into the for- 
 est hard by, and meet me at the weird hunter's spring. 
 Then I will guide you through the wood." 
 
 Surprise thus provided against, Gerard breathed again. 
 He went with Margaret, and while she watched the oak- 
 tree tremblingly, fearing every moment to see an arrow 
 strike among the branches, Gerard dug a deep hole to 
 bury the parchments in. 
 
 He threw them in, one by one. They were nearly all 
 charters and records of the burgh ; but one appeared to^
 
 120 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 be a private deed between Floris Brandt, father of Peter, 
 and Ghysbrecht. 
 
 " Why this is as much yours as his," said Gerard. " I 
 will read this." 
 
 "Oh, not now, Gerard, not now," cried Margaret. 
 "Every moment you lose fills me with fear; and see, 
 large drops of rain are beginning to fall, and the clouds 
 lower." 
 
 Gerard yielded to this remonstrance ; but he put the 
 deed into his bosom, and threw the earth in over the 
 others, and stamped it down. While thus employed 
 there came a flash of lightning followed by a peal of dis- 
 tant thunder, and the rain came down heavily, Margaret 
 and Gerard ran into the house, whither they were speed- 
 ily followed by Martin. 
 
 " The road is clear," said he, " and a heavy storm com- 
 ing on." 
 
 His words proved true. The thunder came nearer and 
 nearer till it crashed overhead : the flashes followed one 
 another close, like the strokes of a whip, and the rain fell 
 in torrents. Margaret hid her face not to see the light- 
 ning. On this, Gerard put up the rough shutter, and 
 lighted a candle. The lovers consulted together, and 
 Gerard blessed the storm that gave him a few hours 
 more with Margaret. The sun set unperceived, and still 
 the thunder pealed, and the lightning flashed, and the 
 ram poured. Supper was set ; but Gerard and Marga- 
 ret could not eat: the thought that this was the last 
 time they should sup together, choked them. The storm 
 lulled a little. Peter retired to rest. But Gerard was 
 to go at peep of day, and neither he nor Margaret could 
 afford to lose an hour in sleep. Martin sat up a while, 
 too ; for he was fitting a new string to his bow, a matter 
 in which he was very nice. 
 
 The lovers murmured their sorrows and their love be- 
 side him. 
 
 Suddenly the old man held up his hand to them to be 
 silent.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 123 
 
 They were quiet and listened, and heard nothing. But 
 the next moment a footstep crackled faintly upon the 
 autumn leaves that lay strewn in the garden at the back 
 door of the house. To those who had nothing to fear 
 such a step would have said nothing ; but to those who 
 had enemies it was terrible. For it was a foot trying to 
 be noiseless. 
 
 Martin fitted an arrow to his string, and hastily blew 
 out the candle. At this moment, to their horror, they 
 heard more than one footstep approach the other door 
 of the cottage, not quite so noiselessly as the other, but 
 very stealthily and then a dead pause. Their blood al- 
 most froze in their veins. 
 
 " Oh, Kate ! oh, Kate ! She said, fly on the instant !" 
 And Margaret moaned and wrung her hands in anguish 
 and terror and wild remorse. 
 
 " Hush, girl !" said Martin, in a stern whisper ; and 
 even at that moment a heavy knock fell on the door. 
 
 As if this had been a concerted signal, the back door 
 was struck as rudely the next instant. They were hem- 
 med in. But at these alarming sounds Margaret seemed 
 to recover some share of self-possession. She whispered, 
 " Say be was here, but is gone." And with this she 
 seized Gerard and almost dragged him up the rude steps 
 that led to her father's sleeping-room. Her own lay next 
 beyond it. 
 
 The blows on the door were repeated. 
 
 " Who knocks at this hour ?" 
 
 " Open, and you will see !" 
 
 " I open not to thieves honest men are all abed now.*' 
 
 " Open to the law, Martin Wittenhaagen, or you shall 
 rue it." 
 
 " Why that is Dirk Brower's voice, I trow. What 
 make you so far from Tergou ?" 
 
 " Open, and you will know." 
 
 Martin drew the bolt, and in rushed Dierich and four 
 more. They let in their companion who was at the back 
 door.
 
 124 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " Now, Martin, where is Gerard Gerardssoen ?" 
 
 " Gerard Gerardssoen ? Why he was here but now." 
 
 "Was here?" Dierich's countenance fell. "And 
 where is he now ?" 
 
 " They say he is gone to Italy. Why ? What is to 
 do?" 
 
 " No matter. When did he go ? Tell me not that he 
 went in such a storm as this !" 
 
 " Here is a coil about Gerard Gerardssoen," said Mar- 
 tin contemptuously. Then he lighted the candle, and, 
 seating himself coolly by the fire, proceeded to whip 
 some fine silk round his bow-string at the place where 
 the nick of the arrow frets it. " I'll tell you," said he, 
 carelessly. " Do you know his brother Giles a little 
 misbegotten imp, ah 1 head and arms ? Well, he came 
 tearing over here on a mule, and bawled out something. 
 I was too far off to hear the creature's words, but I heard 
 its noise. Any way, he started Gerard. For as soon as 
 he was gone, there was such crying and kissing, and then 
 Gerard went away. They do tell me he is gone to Italy 
 mayhap you know where that is, for I don't." 
 
 Dierich's countenance fell lower and lower at this ac- 
 count. There was no flaw in it. A cunninger aaan than 
 Martin would, perhaps, have told a He too many, and 
 raised suspicion. But Martin did his task well. He only 
 told the one falsehood he was bid to tell, and of his own 
 head invented nothing. 
 
 " Mates," said Dierich, " I doubt he speaks sooth. I 
 told the Burgomaster how 'twould be. He met the 
 dwarf galloping Peter Buysken's mule from Sevenberg- 
 en. ' They have sent that imp to Gerard,' says he, * so, 
 then, Gerard is at Sevenbergen.' * Ah, master !' says I, 
 ' 'tis too late now. We should have thought of Seven- 
 bergen before, instead of wasting our time hunting all 
 the odd corners of Tergou for those cursed parchments 
 that we shall never find till we find the man that took 
 'em. If he was at Sevenbergen,' quoth I, 'and they
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 125 
 
 have sent the dwarf to him, it must have been to warn 
 him we are after him. He is leagues away by now,' 
 quoth I. ' Confound that chalk-faced girl ! she has out- 
 witted us bearded men :' and so I told the Burgomaster, 
 but he would not hear reason. A wet jerkin apiece, 
 that is all we shall get, mates, by this job." 
 
 Martin grinned coolly in Dierich's face. 
 
 "However," added the latter, "just to content the 
 Burgomaster, we will search the house." 
 
 Martin turned grave directly. 
 
 This change of countenance did not escape Dierich. 
 He reflected a moment. 
 
 " Watch outside two of you, one on each side of the 
 house, that no one jump from the upper windows. The 
 rest come with me." 
 
 And he took the candle and mounted the stairs, fol- 
 lowed by three of his comrades. 
 
 Martin was left alone. 
 
 The stout soldier hung his head. All had gone so well 
 at first : and now this fatal turn ! Suddenly it occurred 
 to him that all was not yet lost. Gerard must be either 
 in Peter's room or Mai'garet's ; they were not so very 
 high from the ground. Gerard would leap out. Dierich 
 had left a man below ; but what then ? For half a 
 minute Gerard and he would be two to one, and in that 
 brief space what might not be done ? 
 
 Martin then held the back door ajar and watched. 
 The light was in Peter's room. " Curse the fool !" said 
 he, " is he going to let them take him like a girl ?" 
 
 The light passed now into Margaret's bedroom. Still 
 no window was opened. Had Gerard intended to escape 
 that way he would not have waited till the men were in 
 the room. Martin saw that at once, and left the door, 
 and came to the foot-stair and listened. He began to 
 think Gerard must have escaped by the window while 
 all the men were in the house. The longer the silence 
 continued the stronger grew this conviction. But it was 
 suddenly and rudely dissipated.
 
 126 A GOOD TIGHT. 
 
 Piercing shrieks issued from the inner bedroom Mar- 
 garet's. 
 
 " They have taken him," groaned Martin ; " they have 
 got him." 
 
 It flashed through Martin's mind in one moment that 
 if they took Gerard away his life was not worth a but- 
 ton ; and that, if evil befell him, Margaret's heart would 
 break. He cast his eyes wildly round, like some savage 
 beast seeking an escape, and in a twinkling he formed a 
 resolution terribly characteristic of those iron times and 
 of a soldier driven to bay. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HE stepped to each door in turn, and imitating Dirk 
 Brewer's voice, said sharply, " Watch the window !" He 
 then quietly closed and bolted both doors. He then took 
 up his bow and six arrows ; one he fitted to his string, 
 the others he put into his quiver. His knife he placed 
 upon a chair behind him, the hilt toward him ; and there 
 he waited at the foot of the stair with the calm determin- 
 ation to slay those four men or be slain by them. Two, 
 he knew, he could dispose of by his arrows, ere they 
 could get near him, and Gerard and he must take their 
 chance, hand-to-hand, with the remaining pair. Besides, 
 he had seen men panic-stricken by a sudden attack of 
 this sort. Should Brower and his men hesitate but an 
 instant, he should shoot three instead of two, and then 
 the odds would be on the right side. 
 
 He had not long to wait. The heavy steps sounded 
 in Margaret's room, and came nearer and nearer. 
 
 The light also approached, and voices. 
 
 Martin's heart, stout as it was, beat hard, to hear men 
 coming thus to their death, and, perhaps, to his ; more 
 likely so than not ; for four is long odds in a battle-field
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 127 
 
 of ten feet square, and Gerard might be bound, perhaps, 
 and powerless to help. But this man, whom we have 
 seen shake in his shoes at a Giles-o'-lantern, never waver- 
 ed in this awful moment of real danger, but stood there, 
 his body all braced for combat and his eye glowing, 
 equally ready to take life and lose it. Desperate game ! 
 to win which was exile instant and for life, and to lose it 
 was to die that moment upon that floor he stood on. 
 
 Dierich Brower and his men found Peter in his first 
 sleep. They opened his cupboards; they ran their 
 knives into an alligator he had nailed to his wall ; they 
 looked under his bed : it was a large room, and apparent- 
 ly full of hiding places, but they found no Gerard. 
 
 Then they went on to Margaret's room, and the very 
 sight of it was discouraging it was small and bare, and 
 not a cupboard in it ; there was, however, a large fire- 
 place and chimney. Dierich's eye fell on these directly. 
 Here they found the beauty of Sevenbergen sleeping on 
 an old chest, not a foot high, and no attempt made to 
 cover it ; but the sheets were snowy white, and so was 
 Margaret's own linen. And there she lay, looking like a 
 lily fallen into a rut. 
 
 Presently she awoke, and sat up in the bed, like one 
 amazed ; then, seeing the men, began to scream violent- 
 ly, and pray for mercy. 
 
 She made Dierich Brower ashamed of his errand. 
 
 "Here is a to-do," said he, a little confused. "We 
 are not going to hurt you, my pretty maid. Lie you 
 still, and shut your eyes, and think of your wedding- 
 night, while I look up this chimney to see if Master Ge- 
 rard is there." 
 
 " Gerard ! in my room ?" 
 
 " Why not ? They say that you and he " 
 
 " Cruel ; you know they have driven him away from 
 me driven him from his native place. This is a blind. 
 You are thieves ; you are wicked men ; you are not men
 
 128 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 of Sevenbergen, or you would know Margaret Brandt 
 better than to look for her lover in this room of all oth- 
 ers in the world. Oh, brave ! Four great hulking men 
 to come, armed to the teeth, to insult one poor, honest 
 girl ! The women that live in your own houses must be 
 naught, or you would respect them too much to insult a 
 girl of good character." 
 
 " There, come away, before we hear worse," said Die- 
 rich, hastily. " He is not in the chimney. Plaster will 
 mend what a cudgel breaks ; but a woman's tongue is a 
 double-edged dagger, and a girl is a woman with her 
 mother's milk still in her." And he beat a hasty retreat. 
 " I told the Burgomaster how 'twould be." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WHEEE is the woman that can not act a part ? Where 
 is she who will not do it, and do it well, to save the man 
 she loves. Nature on these great occasions comes to the 
 aid of the simplest of the sex, and teaches her to throw 
 dust in Solomon's eyes. The men had no sooner retired 
 than Margaret stepped out of bed and opened the long 
 chest on which she had been lying down hi her skirt and 
 petticoat and stockings, and night-dress over all; and 
 put the h'd, bed-clothes and ah 1 , against the wall ; then 
 glided to the door and listened. The footsteps died 
 away through her father's room, and down the stairs. 
 
 Now, in that chest there was a peculiarity that it was 
 almost impossible for a stranger to detect. A part of 
 the boarding of the room had been broken, and Gerard 
 being applied to to make it look neater, and being short of 
 materials, had ingeniously sawed away a space sufficient 
 just to admit Margaret's soi-disant bed, and with the 
 materials thus acquired he had repaired the whole room. 
 As for the bed or chest it really rested on the rafters a 
 foot below the boards. Consequently it was full two 
 feet deep, though it looked scarce one.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 129 
 
 All was quiet. Margaret kneeled and gave thanks to 
 Heaven. Then she glided from the door, and leaned 
 over the empty chest, and whispered tenderly, " Gerard !" 
 
 Gerard did not reply. 
 
 She then whispered, a little louder, " Gerard, all is safe, 
 thank Heaven ! You may rise ; but, oh ! be cautious !" 
 
 Gerard made no reply. 
 
 She laid her hand upon his shoulder " Gerard !" 
 
 No reply. 
 
 "Oh! what is this?" she cried, and her hands ran 
 wildly over his face and his bosom. She took him by 
 the shoulders ; she shook him ; she lifted him ; but he 
 escaped from her trembling hands, and fell back, not like 
 a man but like a body. A great dread fell on her. The 
 lid had been down. She had lain upon it. The men 
 had been some time in the room. With all the strength 
 of phrensy, she tore him Out of the chest. She bore him 
 in her arms to the window. She dashed the window 
 open. The sweet air came in. She laid him in it and in 
 the moonlight. His face was the color of ashes, his body 
 was all limp and motionless. She felt his heart. Hor- 
 ror ! It was as still as the rest ! Horror of horrors ! she 
 had stifled him with her own body ! 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE mind can not all at once believe so great and sud- 
 den and strange a calamity. Gerard, who had got alive 
 into the chest scarce five minutes ago, how could he be 
 dead? 
 
 She called him by all the endearing names that heart 
 could think, or tongue could frame. She kissed him and 
 fondled him and coaxed him, and implored him to speak 
 to her. 
 
 No answer to words of love, such as she had never ut- 
 tered to him before, nor thought she could utter. Then 
 F2
 
 130 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 the poor creature, trembling all over, began to say over 
 that white face little foolish things that were at once 
 terrible and pitiable. 
 
 " Oh, Gerard ! I am very sorry you are dead ! I am 
 very sorry I have killed you! Forgive me for not let- 
 ting the men take you, it would have been better than 
 this ! Oh, Gerard ! I am very, very sorry for what I have 
 done !" Then she began suddenly to rave. " No ! no ! 
 such things can't be, or there is no God! It is mon- 
 strous! How can my Gerard be dead? How can I 
 have killed my Gerard ? I love him ! Oh, God ! you 
 know how I love him ! He does not. I never told him. 
 If he knew my heart, he would speak to me, he would 
 not be so deaf to his poor Margaret. It is all a trick 
 to make me cry out and betray him ; but, no, I love him 
 too well for that. I'll choke first." And she seized her 
 own throat, to check her wild desire to scream in her 
 terror and anguish. 
 
 " If he would but say one word. Oh, Gerard ! don't 
 die without a word. Have mercy on me and scold me ! 
 but speak to me : if you are angry with me, scold me ! 
 curse me ! I deserve it : the idiot that killed the man she 
 loved better than herself. Ah ! I am a murderess. The 
 worst in all the world. Help, help ! I have murdered 
 him. Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!" 
 
 She tore her hair, and uttered shriek after shriek so 
 wild, so piercing, they fell like a knell upon the ears of 
 Dierich Brower and his men. All started to their feet, 
 and looked at one another. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 MARTIN WITTENHAAGEN, standing at the foot of the 
 stairs with his arrow drawn nearly to the head, and his 
 knife behind him, was struck with amazement, to see the 
 men come back without Gerard : he lowered his bow,
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 131 
 
 and looked open-mouthed at them. They, for their part, 
 were equally surprised at the attitude they had caught 
 him in. 
 
 "Why, mates, was the old fellow making ready to 
 shoot one of us ?" 
 
 " Stuff!" said Martin, recovering his stolid composure, 
 " I was but trying my new string. There, I'll unstring 
 my bow, if you think that." 
 
 " Humph !" said Dierich, suspiciously, " there is some- 
 thing more in you than I understand : put a log on, and 
 let us dry our hides a bit, ere we go." 
 
 A blazing fire v.-as soon made, and the men gathered 
 round it, and their clothes and long hair were soon smok- 
 ing from the cheerful blaze. Then it was that the shrieks 
 were heard in Margaret's room. They all started up, and 
 one of them seized the candle, and ran up the steps that 
 led to the bedrooms. 
 
 Martin rose hastily, too, and being confused by these 
 sudden screams, and apprehending danger from the man's 
 curiosity, tried to prevent him from going there. 
 
 At this Dierich threw his arms round him from be- 
 hind, and called on the others to keep him. The man 
 that had the candle got clear away, and all the rest fell 
 on Martin, and after a long and fierce struggle, in the 
 course of which they were more than once all rolh'ng on 
 the floor, with Martin in the middle, they succeeded in 
 mastering the old Samson, and binding him hand and 
 foot with a rope they had brought for Gerard. 
 
 " That is a good job," said Dierich, pointing ; " our 
 lives weren't safe while this old fellow's four bones were 
 free. He makes me think Gerard is hereabouts, for all 
 we can't find him. Halloo, mates! Jorian Ketel's a 
 long time in that girl's bedroom." 
 
 The rude laugh caused by this remark had hardly sub- 
 sided, when hasty footsteps were heard running along 
 overhead. 
 
 " Oh ! here he comes, at last. Well, Jorian, what is 
 to do now ?"
 
 132 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 JOBIAN KETEL went straight to Margaret's room, and 
 there he found the man he had been in search of, pale 
 and motionless, his head in Margaret's lap, and she kneel- 
 ing over him, mute now, and stricken to stone. Her eyes 
 were dilated, yet glazed, and she neither saw the light 
 nor heard the man, nor cared for any thing on earth but 
 the white face in her lap. 
 
 Jorian stood awe-struck, the candle shaking in his 
 hand. 
 
 Why, where was he, then, all the time ? 
 
 Margaret heeded him not. Jorian went to the empty 
 chest and inspected it. He began to comprehend. The 
 girl's dumb and frozen despair moved him. 
 
 " This is a sorry sight," said he : " it is a black night's 
 work ; all for a few skins ! Better have gone with us 
 than so. She is past answering me, poor wench ! Stop 
 let us try." 
 
 He took down a little round mirror, no bigger than his 
 hand, and put it to Gerard's mouth and nostrils, and held 
 it there. When he withdrew it, it was dull. Jorian 
 Ketel gave a joyful cry : 
 
 " THEEE is LIFE IN HIM, GIRL !" 
 
 At that word, it was as if a statue had started into life 
 and passion. Margaret rose, and flung her arms round 
 Jorian's neck. 
 
 " Oh, bless the tongue that tells me so !" and she kiss- 
 ed the great rough feUow again and again, eagerly, al- 
 most fiercely. 
 
 " There, there ! let us lay him warm," said Jorian ; 
 and in a moment he raised Gerard, and laid him on the 
 bed-clothes. Then he took out a flask he carried, and 
 filled his hand twice with Schiedamze, and flung it sharp-
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 133 
 
 ly each time in Gerard's face. The pungent liquor co- 
 operated with his recovery he gave a faint, sigh. Oh, 
 never was sound so joyful to human ear ! She flew to- 
 ward him, but then stopped, quivering for fear she should 
 hurt him. She had lost all confidence in herself. 
 
 "That is right let him alone," said Jorian; "don't 
 go cuddling him as you did me, or you'll drive his breath 
 back again. Let him alone: he is sure to come to. 
 'Tisn't like as if he was an old man." 
 
 Gerard sighed deeply, and a faint streak of color stole 
 to his lips. Jorian made for the door. He had hardly 
 reached it, when he found his legs seized from behind. 
 
 It was Margaret ! She curled round his knees like a 
 serpent, and kissed his hand, and fawned on him. " You 
 won't tell ? You have saved his life ; you have not the 
 heart to thrust him back into his grave, to undo your 
 own good work ?" 
 
 " No, no ! It is not the first time I've done you two 
 a good turn ; 'twas I told you in the church whither we 
 had to take him. Besides, what is Dirk Brower to me ? 
 I'll see him hanged ere I'll tell him. But I wish you'd 
 tell me where the parchments are ? There are a hund- 
 red crowns offered for them. That would be a good 
 windfall for my Joan and the children, you know." 
 
 " Ah ! they shall have those hundred crowns." 
 
 " What ! are the things in the house ?" asked Jorian, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " No ; but I know where they are ; and by God and 
 St. Barsos, I swear you shall have them to-morrow. Come 
 to me for them when you will, but come alone." 
 
 " I were mad, else. What ! share the hundred crowns 
 with Dirk Brower ? And now may my bones rot in my 
 skin if I let a soul know the poor boy is here !" 
 
 He then ran off, lest by staying longer he should ex- 
 cite suspicion, and have them all after him. And Mar- 
 garet knelt, quivering from head to foot, and prayed be- 
 side Gerard, and for Gerard.
 
 134 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " What is to do ? Why we have scared the girl out 
 of her wits. She was in a kind of fit." 
 
 " We had better all go and doctor her, then." 
 
 " Oh yes ! and frighten her into the church-yard. Her 
 father is a doctor, and I have roused him, and sent him 
 to bring her round. Let us see the fire, will ye ?" 
 
 His off-hand way disarmed all suspicion. And soon 
 after the party agreed that the kitchen of the Three 
 Kings was much warmer than Peter's house, and they 
 departed, having first untied Martin. 
 
 " Take note, mate, that I was right, and the Burgo- 
 master wrong," said Dierich Brower, at the door : " I 
 said we should be too late to catch him, and we were 
 too late." 
 
 Thus Gerard, in one terrible night, grazed the prison 
 and the grave ! 
 
 And how did he get clear at last? Not by his cun- 
 ningly-contrived hiding-place, nor by Margaret's ready 
 wit ; but by a good impulse in one of his captors by 
 the bit of humanity left in a somewhat reckless fellow's 
 heart, aided by his desire of gain. So mixed and seem- 
 ingly incongruous are human motives, so short-sighted 
 our shrewdest counsels. 
 
 They whose moderate natures, or gentle fates, keep 
 them in life's passage from the fierce extremes of joy 
 and anguish our nature is capable of, are perhaps the 
 best, and certainly the happiest, of mankind. But to 
 such readers I should try in vain to convey what bliss 
 unspeakable settled now upon those persecuted lovers. 
 Even to those who have joyed greatly, and greatly suf- 
 fered, my feeble art can present but a pale reminiscence, 
 and a faint reflection of Margaret's and Gerard's ecstasy. 
 
 To sit and see a beloved face come back from the 
 grave to the world, to health and beauty by swift gra- 
 dations ; to see the roses return to the loved cheek, love's
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 135 
 
 glance to the loved eye, and his words to the loved 
 mouth : this was Margaret's a joy to balance years of 
 sorrow. It was Gerard's to awake from a trance and 
 find his head pillowed on Margaret's arm; to hear the 
 woman he adored murmur new words of eloquent love, 
 and shower tears and tender kisses and caresses on him. 
 He never knew, till this sweet moment, how ardently, 
 how tenderly she loved him. He thanked his enemies. 
 They wreathed their arms sweetly round each other, and 
 trouble and danger seemed a world, an age, behind them. 
 They called each other husband and wife. Had they not 
 stood before the altar together ? Was not the blessing 
 of Holy Church upon their union ? Her curse on all who 
 would part them ? 
 
 But as no woman's nerves can bear with impunity so 
 terrible a strain, presently Margaret turned faint, and 
 sank on Gerard's shoulder, smiling feebly, but quite, 
 quite unstrung. Thus Gerard was anxious, and would 
 seek assistance. But she held him with a gentle grasp, 
 and implored him not to leave her for a moment. 
 " "While I can lay my hand on you, I feel you are safe, 
 not else. Foolish Gerard ! nothing ails me. I am weak, 
 dearest, but happy, oh ! so happy !" 
 
 Then it was Gerard's turn to support that dear head, 
 with its great waves of hair flowing loose over him, and 
 nurse her, and soothe her, quivering on his bosom, with 
 soft encouraging words and murmurs of love, and gentle 
 caresses. Sweetest of ah 1 her charms is a woman's weak- 
 ness to a manly heart. 
 
 Poor things! they were happy. To-morrow they 
 must part. But that was nothing to them now. They 
 had seen Death, and all other troubles seemed light as 
 air. While there is life there is hope: while there is 
 hope there is joy. Separation for a year or two, what 
 was it to them, who were so young, and had caught a 
 glimpse of the grave ? The future was bright : the pres- 
 ent was Heaven : so passed the blissful hours.
 
 136 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Alas ! their innocence ran other risks besides the pris- 
 on and the grave : they were in most danger from their 
 own hearts and their inexperience, now that visible dan- 
 ger there was none. 
 
 Ghysbrecht Van Swieten could not sleep all night for 
 anxiety. He was afraid of thunder and lightning, or he 
 would have made one of the party that searched Peter's 
 house. As soon as the storm ceased altogether, he crept 
 down stairs, saddled his mule, and rode to the Three 
 Kings at Sevenbergen. There he found his men sleep- 
 ing, some on the chairs, some on the tables, some on the 
 floor. He roused them furiously, and heard the story of 
 their unsuccessful search, interlarded with praises of their 
 zeal. 
 
 " Fool ! to let you go without me," cried the Burgo- 
 master. " My life on't he was there all the tune. Look- 
 ed ye under the girl's bed ?" 
 
 " No : there was no room for a man there." 
 
 " How know ye that, if ye looked not ?" snarled Ghys- 
 brecht. " Ye should have looked under her bed, and in 
 it, too; and sounded ah 1 the panels with your knives. 
 Come, now, get up, and I shah 1 show ye how to search." 
 
 Dierich Brower got up, and shook himself: "If you 
 find him, cah 1 me a horse and no man." 
 
 In a few minutes Peter's house was again surrounded. 
 
 The fiery old man left his mule in the hands of Jorian 
 Ketel, and, with Dierich Brower and the others, entered 
 the house. 
 
 The house was empty ! 
 
 Not a creature to be seen, not even Peter. They went 
 up stairs, and then suddenly one of the men gave a shout, 
 and pointed through Peter's window, which was open. 
 The others looked, and there, at some little distance, 
 walking quietly across the fields with Margaret and Mar- 
 tin, was the man they sought. Ghysbrecht, with an ex- 
 ulting yell, descended the stairs, and flung himself on his 
 mule ; and he and his men set off in hot pursuit.
 
 A GOOD F1UHT. 139 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 GERARD, warned by recent peril, rose before daybreak, 
 and waked Martin. The old soldier was astonished. 
 He thought Gerard had escaped by the window last 
 night. Being consulted as to the best way for him to 
 leave the country and elude pursuit, he said there was but 
 one road safe. "I must guide you through the great 
 forest to a bridle -road I know of. This will take you 
 speedily to a hostelry, where they will lend you a swift 
 horse : and then an hour's gallop will take you out of 
 Holland. But let us start ere the folk here quit their 
 beds." 
 
 Peter's house was but a furlong and a half from the 
 forest. They started, Martin with his bow and three ar- 
 rows, for it was Thursday : Gerard with nothing but a 
 stout oak staff Peter gave him for the journey. 
 
 Margaret pinned up her kirtle and farthingale, for the 
 road was wet. Peter went as far as his garden hedge 
 with them, and then, with more emotion than he often 
 bestowed on passing events, gave the young man his 
 blessing. 
 
 The sun was peeping above the horizon as they crossed 
 the stony field and made for the wood. They had crossed 
 about half, when Margaret, who kept nervously looking 
 back every now and then, uttered a cry, and following 
 her instinct, began to run toward the wood, screaming 
 with terror all the way. 
 
 Ghysbrecht and his men were in hot pursuit. 
 
 Resistance would have been madness. Martin and 
 Gerard followed Margaret's example. The pursuers 
 gained slightly on them; but Martin kept Shouting, 
 " Only gain the wood ! only gain the wood !" 
 
 They had too good a start for the men on foot, and
 
 140 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 their hearts bounded with hope at Martin's words, for 
 the great trees seemed now to stretch their branches 
 like friendly arms toward them, and their leaves like a 
 screen. 
 
 But an unforeseen danger burst on them. The fiery 
 old Burgomaster had flung himself on his mule, and, 
 spurring him to a gallop, he headed not his own men 
 only, but the fugitives. His object was to cut them off. 
 The old man came galloping in a semicircle, and got on 
 the edge of the wood, right in front of Gerard ; the oth- 
 ers might escape for aught he cared. 
 
 Margaret shrieked twice ; but only once for Gerard. 
 
 Ghysbrecht, in his ardor, had forgotten that hunted 
 animals turn on the hunter ; and that two men can hate, 
 and two can long to kill the thing they hate. 
 
 Instead of attempting to dodge him, as the Burgomas- 
 ter thought he would, Gerard flew right at him with a 
 savage, exulting cry, and struck at him with all his heart 
 and soul and strength. The oak staff came down on his 
 face with a frightful crash, and laid him under his mule's 
 tail, beating the devil's tattoo with his heels, his face 
 streaming, and his collar spattered with blood. 
 
 The next moment the three were in the wood. The 
 yell of dismay and vengeance that burst from Ghys- 
 brecht's men at that terrible blow which felled their 
 leader, told the fugitives that it was a race for life or 
 death. 
 
 "Why run?" cried Gerard, panting. "You have 
 your bow ; and I have this :" and he shook his bloody 
 staff. 
 
 " Boy !" roared Martin ; " the GALLOWS ! Follow 
 me !" and he fled into the wood. Soon they heard a cry 
 like a pack of hounds opening on sight of the game. 
 The men were in the wood, and saw them flitting among 
 the trees.* Margaret moaned and panted, as she ran; 
 and Gerard clenched his teeth, and grasped his staff. 
 The next minute they came to a stiff hazel coppice.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 141 
 
 Martin dashed into it, and shouldered the young wood 
 aside as if it were standing corn. 
 
 Ere they had gone fifty yards in it they came to four 
 blind paths. 
 
 Martin took one. " Bend low," said he : and, half 
 creeping, they glided along. Presently their path was 
 again intersected with other little tortuous paths. They 
 took one of them ; it seemed to lead back, but soon it 
 took a turn, and after a while brought them to a thick 
 pine grove where the walking was good and hard : there 
 were no paths here, and the young fir-trees were so thick 
 you could not see three yards before your nose. 
 
 When they had gone some way in this, Martin sat 
 down, and accustomed to lose all impression of danger 
 with the danger itself, took a piece of bread and a slice 
 of ham out of his wallet, and began quietly to eat his 
 breakfast. 
 
 The young ones looked at him with dismay. He re- 
 plied to their looks. 
 
 " All Sevenbergen could not find you now ; you will 
 lose your purse, Gerard, long before you get to Italy : is 
 that the way to carry a purse ?" 
 
 Gerard looked, and there was a large triangular purse, 
 entangled by its chains to the buckle and strap of his 
 wallet. 
 
 " This is none of mine," said he. " What is in it, I 
 wonder?" and he tried to detach it: but in passing 
 through the coppice it had become inextricably entan- 
 gled in his strap and buckle. It seems loth to leave 
 me," said Gerard, and he had to cut it loose with his 
 knife. The purse, on examination, proved to be well 
 provided with silver coins of all sizes, but its bloated ap- 
 pearance was greatly owing to a number of pieces of 
 brown paper folded and doubled. A light burst on Ge- 
 rard. "Why, it must be that old thief's? and see! 
 stuffed with paper to deceive the world !" 
 
 The wonder was, how the Burgomaster's purse came 
 on Gerard.
 
 142 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 They hit at last upon the right solution. The purse 
 must have been at Ghysbrecht's saddle-bow, and Gerard, 
 rushing at his enemy, had unconsciously torn it away, 
 thus felling his enemy and robbing him, with a single 
 gesture. 
 
 Gerard was delighted at this feat, but Margaret was 
 uneasy. 
 
 " Throw it away, Gerard, or let Martin take it back. 
 Already they call you a thief. I can not bear it." 
 
 " Throw it away ? give it him back ? not a stiver. 
 This is spoil, lawfully won in battle from an enemy. Is 
 it not, Martin ?" 
 
 " Why, of course. Send him back the brown paper 
 an you will ; but the purse or the coin that were a sin." 
 
 " Oh, Gerard !" said Margaret, " you are going to a 
 distant land. We need the good- will of Heaven. How 
 can we hope for that, if we take what is not ours ?" 
 
 But Gerard saw it in a different light. 
 
 " It is Heaven that gives it me by a miracle, and I shall 
 cherish it accordingly," said this pious youth. "Thus 
 the favored people spoiled the Egyptians, and were 
 blessed." 
 
 " Take your own way," said Margaret, humbly, " you 
 are wiser than I am. You are my husband," added she, 
 in a low murmuring voice; "is it for me to gainsay 
 you?" 
 
 These humble words from Margaret, who, till that day, 
 had held the whip hand, rather surprised Martin for the 
 moment. They recurred to him some time afterward, 
 and then they surprised him less. 
 
 Gerard kissed her tenderly in return for her wife-like 
 docility, and they pursued their journey hand-in-hand, 
 Martin leading the way, into the depths of the huge for- 
 est. The farther they went the more absolutely secure 
 from pursuit they felt. Indeed, the townspeople never 
 ventured so far as this into the trackless part of the forest. 
 
 Impetuous natures repent quickly. Gerard was no
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 143 
 
 sooner out of all danger, than his conscience began to 
 prick him. 
 
 " Martin, would I had not struck quite so hard." 
 
 " Whom ? Oh ! let that pass ; he is cheap served." 
 
 " Martin, I saw his gray hairs as my stick fell on him. 
 I doubt I shall not get them out of my sight this while." 
 
 Martin grunted. " Who spares a badger for his gray 
 hairs ? The grayer your enemy is, the older ; and the 
 older the craftier; and the craftier the better for a little 
 killing." 
 
 "Killing? Killing, Martin? don't speak of killing!" 
 And Gerard shook all over. 
 
 " I am very much mistaken if you have not," said 
 Martin, cheerfully. 
 
 " Now Heaven forbid !" 
 
 "The old vagabond's skull cracked like a walnut. 
 Aha!" 
 
 " God and all the saints forbid it 1" 
 
 "He rolled offhis mule like a stone shot out of a cart. 
 Said I to myself, ' there is one wiped out.' " And the 
 iron old soldier grinned ruthlessly. 
 
 Gerard fell on his knees, and began to pray for his 
 enemy's life. 
 
 At this Martin lost patience. "Here's mummery. 
 What, you that set up for learning, know you not that a 
 wise man never strikes his enemy but to kill him ? And 
 what is all this coil about killing of old men? If it had 
 been a young one now, with the joys of life waiting for 
 him to wit, wine, women, and pillage but an old felloAV 
 at the edge of the grave, why not shove him in ? Go he 
 must, to-day or to-morrow; and what better place for 
 gray-beards ? Now, if ever I should be so mischancy as 
 to last so long as Ghysbrecht did, and have to go on a 
 mule's legs instead of Martin Wittenhaagen's, and a back 
 like this (striking the wood of his bow), instead of this 
 (striking the string), I'll thank and bless any young fel- 
 low, who will have the charity and the friendship to
 
 144 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 knock me on the head, as you have done that old shop- 
 keeper, malediction on his memory !" 
 
 " Oh, culpa mea ! culpa mea I" cried Gerard, and smote 
 upon his breast. 
 
 "Look there," said Martin to Margaret, scornfully, 
 " he is a priest at heart, still; and, when he is not in ire, 
 St. Paul ! what a milk-sop !" 
 
 " Tush, Martin !" cried Margaret, reproachfully : then 
 sinking on her knees, she wreathed her arms round Ge- 
 rard, and comforted him with the double magic of a 
 woman's sense and a woman's voice. 
 
 " Sweetheart," murmured she, " you forget : you went 
 not a step out of the way to harm him, who hunted you 
 to your death. You fled from him. He it was who 
 spurred on you. Then did you strike, but in self-defense, 
 and a single blow, and with that which was in your 
 hand. Malice had drawn knife, or struck again and 
 again. How often have men been smitten with staves 
 not one but many blows, yet no lives lost. If, then, your 
 enemy has fallen, it is through his own malice, not yours, 
 and by the will of God." 
 
 " Bless you, Margaret, bless you, for thinking so !" 
 
 " Yes ; but, beloved one, if you have had the misfor- 
 tune to kill that wicked man, the more need is there that 
 you fly with haste from Holland. Oh ! let us on." 
 
 "Nay, Margaret," said Gerard, "I fear not man's 
 vengeance, thanks to Martin here, and this thick wood : 
 only Him I fear whose eye pierces the forest, and reads 
 the heart of man. If I but struck in self-defense, 'tis 
 well ; but if in hate, he may bid the avenger of blood 
 follow me to Italy; to Italy? ay, to earth's remotest 
 bounds." 
 
 " Hush !" said Martin, peevishly. " I can't hear for 
 your chat." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Do you hear nothing, Margaret? My ears are get- 
 ting old."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 145 
 
 Margaret listened, and presently she heard a tuneful 
 sound, like a single stroke upon a deep ringing bell. She 
 described it so to Martin. 
 
 " Nay, I heard it," said he. 
 
 " And so did I," said Gerard : " it was beautiful : Ah ! 
 there it is again. How sweetly it blends with the air. 
 It is a long way off. It is before us ; is it not ?" 
 
 " No, no ! the echoes of this wood confound the ear 
 of a stranger. It conies from the pine grove." 
 
 " What, the one we passed ?" 
 
 " The one we passed." 
 
 " Why, Martin, is this any thing f You look pale." 
 
 " Wonderful !" said Martin, with a sickly sneer. " He 
 asks me is it any thing f Come, on, on ! at any rate, let 
 us reach a better place than this." 
 
 " A better place for what ?" 
 
 " To stand at bay, Gerard," said Martin, gravely ; " and 
 die tike soldiers, killing three for one." 
 
 " What's that sound ?" 
 
 "IT IS THE AVENGER OF BLOOD." 
 
 "Oh, Martin, save him! Oh, Heaven be merciful! 
 What new, mysterious peril is this ?" 
 
 "GIRL, IT'S A BLOOD-HOUND." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE courage, like the talent of common men, runs in a 
 narrow groove. Take them but an inch out of that, and 
 they are done. Martin's courage was perfect as far as it 
 went. He had met and baffled many dangers in the 
 course of his rude life; and these familiar dangers he 
 could face with Spartan fortitude, almost with indiffer- 
 ence : but he had never been hunted by a blood-hound ; 
 nor had he ever seen that brute's, unerring instinct baffled 
 by human cunning. Here then a sense of the super- 
 natural combined with novelty to unsteel his heart. Aft- 
 er going a few steps he leaned on his bow, and energy 
 
 G
 
 146 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 and hope oozed out of him. Gerard, to whom the dan- 
 ger appeared slight in proportion as it was distant, urged 
 him to flight. 
 
 " What avails it ?" said Martin sadly ; " if we get clear 
 of the wood we shall die cheap ; here, hard-by, I know a 
 place where we may die dear." 
 
 " Alas ! good Martha," cried Gerard : " despair not so 
 quickly : there must be some way to escape." 
 
 " Oh, Martin !" cried Margaret. " What if we were 
 to part company ? Gerard's life alone is forfeit ! is there 
 no way to draw the pursuit on us twain, and let him go 
 safe?" 
 
 " Girl, you know not the blood-hound's nature. He is 
 not on this man's track, or that; he is on the track of 
 blood. My life on't, they have taken him to where 
 Ghysbrecht fell, and from Ghysbrecht's blood to the man 
 that shed it that cursed hound will lead them, though 
 Gerard should run through an army, or swim the Meuse." 
 And again he leaned upon his bow, and his head sank. 
 
 The hound's mellow voice rang through the wood. 
 
 A cry more tunable 
 
 Was never hallooed to, nor cheered with horn, 
 In Crete, in Sparta, or in Thessaly. 
 
 Strange that things beautiful should be terrible and 
 deadly. The eye of the boa constrictor while fascinating 
 its prey is lovely. No royal crown holds such a jewel ; 
 it is a ruby with the emerald's green light playing ever 
 upon it. Yet the deer that sees it, loses all power of 
 motion, and trembles, and awaits his death ; and even so 
 to compare hearing with sight, this sweet and mellow 
 sound seemed to fascinate Martin Wittenhaagen. He 
 stood uncertain, bewildered, and unnerved. Gerard was 
 little better now. Martin's last words had daunted him. 
 He had struck an old man and shed his blood, and by 
 means of that very blood blood's four-footed avenger 
 was on his track. Was not the finger of Heaven in 
 this?
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 147 
 
 While the men were thus benumbed, the woman's 
 brain was all activity. The man she loved was in dan- 
 ger. 
 
 " Lend me your knife," said she to Martin. He gave 
 it her. 
 
 " But 'twill be little use in your hands," said he. 
 
 Then Margaret did a sly thing. She stepped behind 
 Gerard, and furtively drew the knife across her arm, and 
 made it bleed freely ; then stooping, smeared her hose 
 and shoes ; and still as the blood trickled she smeared 
 them; but so adroitly that neither Gerard nor Martin 
 saw. Then she seized the soldier's arm. 
 
 " Come, be a man !" she said, haughtily, " and let this 
 end. Take us to some thick place, where numbers will 
 not avail our foes." 
 
 "I am going," said Martin sulkily. "Hurry avails 
 not ; we can't shun the hound, and the place is hard by ;" 
 then turning to the left, he led the way, as men go to ex- 
 ecution. 
 
 He soon brought them to a thick hazel coppice, like 
 the one that had favored their escape in the morning. 
 
 " There," said he, " this is but a furlong broad, but it 
 will serve our turn." 
 
 "What are we to do?" 
 
 " Get through this, and wait on the other side ; then 
 as they come straggling through, shoot three, knock two 
 on the head, and the rest will kill us." 
 
 " Is that all you can think of?" said Gerard. 
 
 "That is all." 
 
 " Then, Martin Wittenhaagen, I take the lead ; for you 
 have lost your head. Come, can you obey so young a 
 man as I am ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, Martin," cried Margaret, " do not gainsay 
 Gerard ! He is wiser than his years." 
 
 Martin gave a sullen assent, and they entered the thick 
 coppice. 
 
 When they had painfully traveled through half the 

 
 148 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 brush-wood, the blood-hound's deep bay came nearer and 
 nearer, louder and louder. 
 
 Margaret trembled. 
 
 Martin went down on his stomach and listened. 
 
 " I hear a horse's feet." 
 
 " No," said Gerard. " I doubt it is a mule's. That 
 cursed Ghysbrecht is still alive, none oher would follow 
 me up so bitterly." 
 
 " Never strike your enemy but to slay him," said Mar- 
 tin, gloomily. 
 
 "I'll hit harder this time, if Heaven gives me the 
 chance," said Gerard. 
 
 At last they worked through the coppice, and there 
 was an open wood. The trees were large, but far apart, 
 and no escape possible that way. 
 
 And now with the hound's bay mingled a score of 
 voices, whooping and hallooing. 
 
 " The whole village is out after us," said Martin. 
 
 "I care not," said Gerard. "Listen, Martin. The 
 hound will gain on the men, and as soon as he comes out 
 of the coppice, we will kill him." 
 
 " The hound ? There are more than one !" 
 
 " I hear but one." 
 
 "Ay! but one speaks, the others run mute; but let 
 the leading hound lose the scent, then another shall give 
 tongue. There will be three dogs at least, or devils in 
 dogs' hides. Then we must kill three, instead of one. 
 The moment they are dead, into the coppice again, and 
 go right back. That is a good thought, Gerard !" said 
 Martin, lifting his head. 
 
 " Hush ! the men are in the wood." 
 
 Gerard now gave his orders in a whisper. 
 
 " Stand you with your bow by the side of the coppice 
 there, in the ditch ! I will go but a few yards to yon 
 oak-tree, and hide behind it ; the dogs will follow me, 
 and, as they come out, shoot as many as you can ; the rest 
 will I brain as they come round the tree!"
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. N9 
 
 Martin's eye flashed. They took up their places. 
 
 The whooping and hallooing came closer and closer, 
 and even the rustling of the young wood was heard, and 
 every now and then fhe unerring blood-hound gave a sin- 
 gle bay. 
 
 Oh ! it was terrible ! the branches rustling nearer and 
 nearer, and the inevitable struggle for life and death com- 
 ing on minute by minute, and that death-knell leading it. 
 A trembling hand was laid on Gerard's shoulder. It 
 made him start violently. 
 
 " Martin says, if we are forced to part company, make 
 for that high ash-tree we came in by." 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! yes ! but go back for Heaven's sake ! 
 don't come here !" 
 
 She ran back toward Martin ; but, ere she could get 
 to him, suddenly a huge dog burst out of the coppice, 
 and stood erect a moment. He never noticed Margaret. 
 But he lowered his nose an instant, and the next mo- 
 ment, with an awful yell, sprang straight at Gerard's tree, 
 and rolled head-over-heels dead as a stone, literally spit- 
 ted by an arrow from the bow that twanged beside the 
 coppice in Martin's hand. That same moment out came 
 another hound and smelt his dead comrade. Gerard 
 rushed out at him ; but, ere he could use his cudgel, a 
 streak of white lightning seemed to strike the hound, 
 and he groveled in the dust, wounded desperately, but 
 not killed, and howling piteously. 
 
 Gerard had not time to dispatch him; the coppice 
 rustled too near ; it seemed alive with men. Pointing 
 wildly to Martin to go back, Gerard ran a few yards to 
 the right, then crept cautiously into the thick coppice 
 just as three men burst out. These had headed their 
 comrades considerably ; the rest were following at vari- 
 ous distances. Gerard crawled back almost on all-fours. 
 Instinct taught Martin and Margaret to do the same 
 upon their line of retreat. Thus, within the distance of 
 a few yards, the pursuers and pursued were passing one 
 another upon opposite tracks.
 
 150 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 A loud cry announced the discovery of the dead and 
 the wounded hound. Then followed a babble of voices, 
 still swelling as fresh pursuers reached the spot. The 
 hunters, as usual on a surprise, were wasting time, and 
 the hunted ones were making the most of it. 
 
 " I hear no more hounds," whispered Martin to Mar- 
 garet, and he was himself again. 
 
 It was Margaret's turn to tremble and despair. " Oh ! 
 why did we part with Gerard ? They will kill my Ge- 
 rard, and I not near him !" 
 
 " Nay, nay ! the head to catch him is not on their 
 shoulders. You bade him meet us at the ash-tree." 
 
 " And so I did ! Bless you, Martin, for thinking of 
 that to the ash-tree !" 
 
 " Ay ! but with less noise." 
 
 They were now nearly at the edge of the coppice, 
 when suddenly they heard whooping and hallooing behind 
 them. The men had satisfied themselves the fugitives 
 were in the coppice, and were beating back. 
 
 " No matter," whispered Martin to his trembling com- 
 panion. " We shall have time to win clear and slip out 
 of sight by hard running. Ah !" 
 
 He stopped suddenly; for just as he was going to 
 burst out of the brush-wood, his eye caught a figure keep- 
 ing sentinel. It was Ghysbrecht Van Swieten seated" on 
 his mule, a bloody bandage was across his nose, the 
 bridge of which was broken; but over this his eyes 
 peered keenly, and it was plain by their expression he 
 had heard the fugitives rustle, and was looking out for 
 them. Martin muttered a terrible oath, and cautiously 
 strung his bow, then with equal caution fitted his last 
 arrow to the string. Margaret put her hands to her face, 
 but said nothing. She saw this man must die or Gerard. 
 After the first impulse she peered through her fingers, 
 her heart panting audibly. 
 
 The bow was raised and the deadly arrow steadily
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 153 
 
 drawn to its head, when at that moment an active figure 
 leaped on Ghysbrecht from behind so swiftly, it was like 
 a hawk swooping on a pigeon. A shirt went over the 
 Burgomaster, and, in a turn of the hand, his head was 
 muffled in it, and he was whirled from his seat and fell 
 heavily upon the ground, where he lay groaning with 
 terror ; and Gerard jumped down after him. 
 
 " Hist, Martin ! Martin !" 
 
 Martin and Margaret came out, the former open- 
 mouthed, crying, " Now fly ! fly ! while they are all in 
 the thicket ; we are saved !" 
 
 At this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate 
 would have it, Margaret, who had borne so bravely till 
 now, began to succumb, partly from loss of blood. 
 
 " Oh, my beloved ! fly !" she gasped. " Leave me, for 
 I am faint !" 
 
 "No! no!" screamed Gerard. "Death together, or 
 safety ! Ah ! the mule ! mount her ; you, and I'll " 
 
 In a moment Martin was on the mule, and Gerard 
 raised the fainting girl in his arms and placed her on the 
 saddle, and relieved Martin of his bow. 
 
 " Help ! treason ! murder ! murder !" shrieked Ghys- 
 brecht, rising on his hams. 
 
 "Silence, cur!" roared Gerard, and trode him down 
 again by the throat as men crush an adder. . " Now 
 have you got her firm ? Then fly ! for our lives !" 
 
 But even as the mule, urged suddenly by Martin's 
 heel, scattered the flints with his hind hoofs ere he got 
 into a canter, and even as Gerard withdrew his foot from 
 Ghysbrecht's throat to run, Dierich Brower and his five 
 men, who had come back for orders, and heard the Bur- 
 gomaster's cries, burst roaring out of the coppice on 
 them. 
 
 G2
 
 154 A. GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SPEECH is the familiar vent of human thoughts ; but 
 there are emotions so simple and overpowering, that they 
 rush out not in words, but in eloquent sounds. At such 
 moments man seems to lose his characteristics, and to be 
 merely one of the higher animals ; for these when great- 
 ly agitated ejaculate, though they can not speak. 
 
 There was something terrible and truly animal both 
 in the roar of triumph with which the pursuers burst 
 out of the thicket on our fugitives, and in the sharp cry 
 of terror with which these latter darted away. The pur- 
 suers' hands clutched the empty air, scarce two feet be- 
 hind them, as they fled for life. Confused for a moment, 
 like lions that miss their spring, Dierich and his men let 
 Gerard and the mule put ten yards between them. 
 Then they flew after with uplifted weapons. They were 
 sure of catching them ; for this was not the first time 
 the parties had measured speed. In the open ground 
 they had gained visibly on the trio this morning, and 
 now, at last, it was a fair race again, to be settled by 
 speed alone. A hundred yards were covered in no 
 time. Yet still there remained these ten yards between 
 the pursuers and the pursued. 
 
 This increase of speed since the morning puzzled Die' 
 rich Brower. But I think I understand it. When three 
 run in company, the pace is that of the slowest of the 
 three. From Peter's house to the edge of the forest 
 Gerard ran Margaret's pace ; but now he ran his own ; 
 for the mule was fleet, and could have left them all far 
 behind. Moreover, youth and chaste living began to 
 tell. Daylight grew imperceptibly between the hunted 
 ones and the hunters. Then Dierich made a desperate 
 effort, and gained two yards ; but in a few seconds Ge-
 
 A UOOD FIGHT. 155 
 
 rard had stolen them quickly back. The pursuers began 
 to curse. 
 
 Martin heard, and his face lighted up. " Courage Ge- 
 rard ! courage, brave lad ! they are straggling." 
 
 It was so. Dierich was now headed by one of his 
 men, and another dropped into the rear altogether. 
 
 Tney came to a rising ground, not sharp, but long ; 
 and here youth, and grit, and honest living, told more 
 than ever. 
 
 Ere he reached the top, Dierich's forty years weighed 
 him down like forty bullets. " Our cake is dough," he 
 gasped. " Take him dead, if you can't alive ;" and he 
 left off running, and followed at a foot's pace. Jorian 
 Ketel tailed off next ; and then another, and so, one by 
 one, Gerard ran them all to a stand still, except one who 
 kept on stanch as a blood-hound, though losing ground 
 every minute. His name, if I am not mistaken, was Eric 
 Wouverman. Followed by this one, they came to a rise 
 in the wood, shorter, but much steeper than the last. 
 
 " Hand on mane !" cried Martin. 
 
 Gerard obeyed, and the mule helped him up the hill 
 faster even than he was running before. 
 
 At the sight of this manoeuvre, Dierich's man lost 
 heart, and, being now full eighty yards behind Gerard, 
 and rather more than that in advance of his nearest com- 
 rade, he pulled up short, and in obedience to Dierich's 
 order, took down his cross-bow, leveled it deliberately, 
 and just as the trio were sinking out of sight, over the 
 crest of the hill, sent the bolt whizzing among them. 
 
 There was a cry of dismay ; and, next moment, as if a 
 thunderbolt had fallen on them, they were all lying on 
 the ground, mule and all.
 
 156 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE effect was so sudden and magical, that the shoot- 
 er himself was stupefied for a moment. Then he hailed 
 his companions to join him in effecting the capture, and 
 himself set off up the hill ; when up rose the figure of 
 Martin Wittenhaagen with a bent bow in his hand. 
 Eric Wouverman no sooner saw him in this attitude, 
 than he darted behind a tree, and made himself as small 
 as possible. Martin's skill with that weapon was well 
 known, and the slain dog was a keen reminder of it. 
 
 Wouverman peered round the bark cautiously ; there 
 was the arrow's point still aimed at him. He saw it 
 shine. He dared not move from his shelter. 
 
 When he had been at peep-bo some minutes, his com- 
 panions came up, and then, with a scornful laugh, Martin 
 vanished, and presently was heard to ride off on the 
 mule. 
 
 All the men ran up together. The high ground com- 
 manded a view of a narrow but almost interminable 
 glade. 
 
 They saw Gerard and Margaret running along at a pro- 
 digious distance; they looked like gnats; and Martin 
 galloping after them venire a terre. 
 
 The hunters were outwitted as well as outrun. A few 
 words will explain Martin's conduct. We arrive at 
 causes by noting coincidences ; yet, now and then, coin- 
 cidences are deceitful. As we have all seen a hare tum- 
 ble over a brier just as the gun went off, and so raise ex- 
 pectations, then dash them to earth by scudding away 
 untouched, so the Burgomaster's mule put her foot in 
 a rabbit-hole, at or about the time the cross-bow bolt 
 whizzed innocuous over her head; she fell and threw 
 both her riders. Gerard caught Margaret, but was car-
 
 A GOOD FltillT. 157 
 
 ried down by her weight and impetus. Thus in a mo- 
 ment the soil was strewed with dramatis personse. 
 
 The docile mule was up again directly, and stood trem- 
 bling. Martin was next, and looking round found out 
 there was but one in pursuit ; on this he made the young 
 lovers fly on foot, while he checked the enemy as I have 
 recorded. 
 
 He now galloped after his companions, and when aft- 
 er a long race, he caught them, he instantly put Gerard 
 and Margaret on the mule, and ran by their side, till his 
 breath failed, then took his turn to ride, and so in rota- 
 tion. Thus the runner was always fresh, and long ere 
 they relaxed their speed, all sound and trace of them was 
 hopelessly lost to Dierich and his men. These latter 
 went crestfallen back to look after their chief. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 LIFE and liberty, while safe, are little thought of; for 
 why ? they are matters of course. Endangered, they 
 are rated at their real value. In this, too, they are like 
 sunshine, whose beauty men notice not at noon when it 
 is greatest, but toward evening, when it lies in flakes of 
 topaz under shady elms. Yet it is feebler then; but 
 gloom lies beside it and reveals its fire. Thus Gerard 
 and Margaret, though they started at every leaf that rus- 
 tled louder than its fellows, glowed all over with joy 
 and thankfulness as they glided among the friendly trees 
 in safety and deep tranquil silence, baying dogs and brutal 
 voices yet ringing hi their mind's ears. 
 
 But presently Gerard found stains of blood on Marga- 
 ret's ancles. 
 
 " Oh, Martin ! Martin ! help ! they have wounded her ; 
 the cross-bow !" 
 
 "No, no!" said Margaret, smiling to reassure him. 
 " I am not wounded, nor hurt at all."
 
 158 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " But what is it, then, in Heaven's name ?" cried Ge- 
 rard, in great agitation. 
 
 " Do not scold me, then !" and Margaret blushed. 
 
 " Did I ever scold you ?" 
 
 "No, dear Gerard. Well, then, Martin said it was 
 blood those cruel dogs followed ; so I thought if I could 
 but have a little blood on my shoon the dogs would follow 
 me instead, and let my Gerard win free. So I scratched 
 my arm with Martin's knife forgive me ! Whose else 
 could I take ? Yours, Gerard ? Ah, no. You forgive 
 me?" 
 
 " Let me see this scratch first," said Gerard, choking 
 with emotion. " There, I thought so. A scratch ? I call 
 it a cut a deep, terrible, cruel cut." 
 
 Gerard shuddered at sight of it. 
 
 " She might have done it with her bodkin," said the 
 soldier. " Milksop ! that sickens at the sight of a scratch 
 and a little blood." 
 
 " No, no. I could look on a sea of blood ; but not on 
 hers. Oh, Margaret ! how could you be so cruel ?" 
 
 Margaret smiled with love ineffable. "Foolish Ge- 
 rard," murmured she, " to make so much of nothing." 
 And she flung the guilty arm round his neck. " As if I 
 would not give all the blood in my heart for you, let 
 alone a few drops from my arm." And the next mo- 
 ment, under the sense of his recent danger, she wept on 
 his neck for pity and love ; and he wept with her. 
 
 " And I must part from her," he sobbed, " we two 
 that love so dear one must be in Holland, one in Italy. 
 Ah me ! ah me ! ah me !" 
 
 At this Margaret wept afresh, but patiently and silent- 
 ly. Instinct is never off its guard, and with her unself- 
 ishness was an instinct. To utter her present thoughts 
 would be to add to Gerard's misery at parting, so she 
 wept in silence. 
 
 Suddenly they emerged upon a beaten path, and Mar- 
 tin stopped.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 159 
 
 " This is the bridle-road I spoke of," said he, gravely, 
 " and there away lies the hostelry." 
 
 Margaret and Gerard cast a scared look at one an- 
 other. 
 
 " Come a step with me, Martin," whispered Gerard. 
 When he had drawn him aside, he said to him in a broken 
 voice, " Oh, Martin ! watch over her for me ! She is my 
 wife yet I leave her. See Martin ! here is gold it was 
 for my journey ; it is no use my asking her to take it 
 she would not ; but you will for her, will you not ? Oh, 
 Heaven ! and is this ah 1 I can do for her ? Money ? But 
 poverty is a curse. You will not let her want for any 
 thing, Martin ? The Burgomaster's silver is enough for 
 me." 
 
 "Thou art a good lad, Gerard. Neither want nor 
 harm shall come to her. I care more for her little finger 
 than for all the world ; and were she naught to me, even 
 for thy sake would I be a father to her. Go with a stout 
 heart, and God be with thee going and coming." And 
 the rough soldier wrung Gerard's hand and turned his 
 head away. 
 
 After a moment's silence, he was for going back to 
 Margaret ; but Gerard stopped him. " No, good Martin ; 
 prithee, stay here behind this thicket, while I Oh, Mar- 
 tin! Martin!" 
 
 By this means Gerard escaped a witness of his anguish 
 at leaving her he loved, and Martin escaped a piteous 
 sight, on which I myself would rather not dwell. He 
 did not see the poor young things kneel and renew be- 
 fore heaven those holy vows cruel men had interrupted. 
 He did not see them cling together like one, and then 
 try to part, and fail, and return to one another, and cling 
 again, like drowning, despairing creatures. But he heard 
 Gerard sob, and sob, and Margaret moan. 
 
 At last there was a wild cry, and feet pattered on the 
 hard road. 
 
 He started up, and there was Gerard running wildly,
 
 160 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 with both hands clasped above his head, in prayer, and 
 Margaret tottering toward him with palms extended 
 piteously, as if for help, and ashy cheek, and eyes fixed 
 on vacancy. 
 
 He caught her in his arms, and spoke words of com- 
 fort to her ; but her mind could not take them in ; only 
 at the sound of his voice she held him tight, and trem- 
 bled violently. 
 
 He got her on the mule, and put his arm round her, 
 and so, supporting her frame, which was now all relaxed 
 and powerless, he took her slowly and sadly home. 
 
 She did not shed one tear, nor speak one word. 
 
 At the edge of the wood he took her off the mule, and 
 bade her go across to her father's house. She did as 
 she was bid. 
 
 Martin to Rotterdam. Sevenbergen was too hot for 
 him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVHI. 
 
 JOEIAN KETEL came to Peter's house to claim Marga- 
 ret's promise ; but Margaret was ill in bed, and Peter, on 
 hearing his errand, affronted him and warned him off the 
 premises,'and one or two that stood by were for ducking 
 him ; for both father and daughter were favorites, and 
 the whole story was in every mouth, and the Sevenberg- 
 ans in that state of hot, indiscriniinating irritation which 
 accompanies popular sympathy. 
 
 So Jorian Ketel went off in dudgeon, and repented 
 him of his good deed. This sort of penitence is not 
 rare, and has the merit of being sincere. Dierich Brow- 
 er, who was discovered at " The Three Kings," making 
 a chatter-box drunk in order to worm out of him the 
 whereabouts of Martin Wittenhaagen, was actually taken 
 and flung into a horse-pond, and threatened with worse
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 101 
 
 usage, should he ever show his face in the burgh again ; 
 and finally, municipal jealousy being roused, the Burgo- 
 master of Sevenbergen sent a formal missive to the Burg- 
 omaster of Tergou, reminding him he had overstepped 
 the law, and requesting him to apply to the authorities 
 of Sevenbergen on any future occasion when he might 
 have a complaint, real or imaginary, against any of the 
 townsfolk. 
 
 The wily Ghysbrecht, suppressing his rage at this re- 
 monstrance, sent back a civil message to say that the 
 person he had followed to Sevenbergen was a Tergovan, 
 one Gerard, and that he had stolen the town records ; 
 that Gerard having escaped into foreign parts, and prob- 
 ably taken the documents with him, the whole matter 
 was at an end ; and that he should not think of molest- 
 ing his friend Peter Brandt, now there wa& no longer 
 any good to be gained by it. 
 
 Thus he made a virtue of necessity. But, in reality, 
 his calmness was but a veil : baffled at Sevenbergen, he 
 turned his views elsewhere. He set his emissaries to 
 learn from the family at Tergou whither Gerard had fled, 
 and to his infinite surprise he found they did not know. 
 This added to his uneasiness. It made him fear Gerard 
 was only lurking in the neighborhood : he would make a 
 certain discovery, and would come back and take a ter- 
 rible revenge. From this time Dierich and others that 
 were about him noticed a change for the worse in Ghys- 
 brecht Van Swieten. He became a moody, irritable 
 man. A dread lay on him. His eyes were forever cast- 
 ing furtive glances like one who expects a blow, and 
 knows not from what quarter it is to come. Making 
 others wretched had not made him happy. It seldom 
 does. The little family at Tergou, which but for his vi- 
 olent interference might in time have cemented its dif- 
 ference without banishing spem gregis to a distant land, 
 wore still the same outward features, but within was no 
 longer the simple happy family this tale opened with.
 
 162 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Little Kate knew the share Cornells and Sybrandt had 
 had in banishing Gerard, and though, for fear of making 
 more mischief still, she never told her mother, yet there 
 were times she shuddered at the bare sight of them, and 
 blushed at their hypocritical regrets : she could not help 
 it. Catherine, with a woman's vigilance, noticed this, 
 and with a woman's subtlety said nothing, but quietly 
 pondered it, and went on watching for more. The black 
 sheep themselves, in their efforts to partake in the gen- 
 eral gloom of sorrow, succeeded so far as to impose upon 
 their father and Giles ; but the demure satisfaction that 
 lay at the bottom of them could not escape these femi- 
 nine eyes 
 
 That, noting all, seem'd naught to note. 
 
 Thus mistrust and suspicion sat at the table, poor sub- 
 stitutes for Gerard's intelligent face, that had brightened 
 the whole circle, unobserved till now. As for the old 
 hosier, his pride had been wounded by his son's disobedi- 
 ence, and so he bore stiffly up, and did his best never 
 to mention Gerard's name ; but underneath his Spartan 
 cloak Nature might often be seen tugging at his heart- 
 strings. One anxiety he never affected to conceal. " If 
 I but knew where the boy is, and that his life and health 
 are in no danger, small would be my care," would he 
 say ; and then a deep sigh would follow. (I can't help 
 thinking that if Gerard had opened the door just then, 
 and walked in, there would have been many tears and 
 embraces for him, and few reproaches, or none.) 
 
 One thing took the old couple quite by surprise pub- 
 licity. Ere Gerard had been gone a week, his adventures 
 were in every mouth ; and, to make matters worse, the 
 popular sympathy declared itself warmly on the side of 
 the lovers, and against Gerard's cruel parents, and that 
 old busy-body the Burgomaster, "who must put his nose 
 into a business that nowise concerned him." 
 
 One feeling in Catherine's mind was bitterly strong, 
 and deprived an unfortunate young creature of a sym-
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 163 
 
 pathy that she lay longing for, though not dating to hope 
 for it. 
 
 "Mother," said Kate, "it is all over the town that 
 Margaret is down with a fever a burning fever; her 
 father fears her sadly." 
 
 " Margaret ? what Margaret ?" inquired Catherine, 
 with a treacherous assumption of calmness and indifier- 
 ence. 
 
 " Oh, mother ! whom should I mean ? Why, Gerard's 
 Margaret." 
 
 "Gerard's Margaret!" screamed Catherine; "how 
 dare you s.ay such a word to me ? And I rede you nev- 
 er mention that hussy's name in this house, that she has 
 laid bare. She is the ruin of my poor boy the flower 
 of all my flock. She is the cause that he is not a holy 
 priest in the midst of us, but is roaming the world, and 
 that I am a desolate, broken-hearted mother. There, do 
 not cry, my girl ; I do ill to speak harsh to you. But, 
 oh, Kate ! you don't know what passes in a mother's 
 heart. I bear up before you all ; it behooves me swal- 
 low my fears ; but at night I see him in my dreams, and 
 always some trouble or other near him : sometimes I see 
 him torn by wild beasts ; sometimes he is in the hands 
 of robbers, and their cruel knives uplifted to strike his 
 poor pale face, that one would think would move a stone. 
 Oh ! when I think that while I sit here hi comfort, per- 
 haps my poor boy lies dead in some savage place and 
 all along of that girl : there, her very name is rat's-bane 
 to me. I tremble all over when I hear it." 
 
 " I'll not say any thing, nor do any thing to grieve you 
 worse, mother," said Kate, tenderly ; but she sighed. 
 
 She whose name was so fiercely interdicted in this 
 house, was much spoken of, and even pitied, elsewhere. 
 All Sevenbergen was sorry for her, and the young men 
 and maidens cast many a pitying glance, as they passed, 
 at the little window where the beauty of the village lay 
 dying for love. In this familiar phrase they underrated
 
 164 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 her spirit and unselfishness. Gerard was not dead, and 
 she was too loyal herself to doubt his constancy. Her 
 father was dear to her and helpless ; and, but for bodily 
 weakness, ah 1 her love for Gerard would not have kept 
 her from doing her duties, though she might have gone 
 about them with drooping head and heavy heart. But 
 physical and mental excitement had brought on an at- 
 tack of fever so violent, that nothing but youth and con- 
 stitution saved her. The malady left her at last, but in 
 that terrible state of bodily weakness in which the pa- 
 tient feels life a burden. 
 
 Then it is that love and friendship by the bedside are 
 mortal angels with comfort in their voices, and healing 
 in their palms. 
 
 But this poor girl had to come back to life and vigor 
 how she could. Many days she lay alone, and the heavy 
 hours rolled like leaden waves over her. In her enfeebled 
 state existence seemed a burden, and life a thing gone 
 by. She could not try to get well. Gerard was gone. 
 She had not him to get well for. Often she lay for 
 hours quite still, with the tears welling gently out of her 
 eyes. 
 
 But one day, waking from an uneasy slumber, she 
 found two women in her room. One was a servant ; the 
 other, by the deep fur on her collar and sleeves, was a 
 person of consideration : a narrow band of silvery hair 
 being spared by- her coiffure, showed her to be past the 
 age when women of sense conceal their years. The looks 
 of both were kind and friendly. Margaret tried to raise 
 herself in the bed, but the old lady placed a hand very 
 gently on her. 
 
 " Lie still, sweetheart ; we come not here to put you 
 about, but to comfort you, God willing. Now cheer up 
 a bit, and tell us, first, who think you we are ?" 
 
 " Nay, madam, I know you, though I never saw you 
 before : you are the Demoiselle Van Eyck, and this is 
 Richt Heynes. Gerard has often spoken of you, and of
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 165 
 
 your goodness to him. Madam, he has no friend like 
 you near him now," and she lay back, and the tears well- 
 ed out of her eyes. 
 
 The good-natured Richt Heynes began to cry for com- 
 pany ; but her mistress scolded her. " Well, you are a 
 pretty one for a sick-room," said she : and she put out a 
 world of innocent art to cheer the patient ; and not with- 
 out some little success. An old woman that has seen 
 life and all its troubles is a sovereign blessing by a sor- 
 rowful young woman's side. She knows what to say, 
 and what to avoid. She knows how to soothe her and 
 interest her. Ere she had been there an hour she had 
 Margaret's head lying on her shoulder instead of on the 
 pillow, and Margaret's soft eyes dwelling on her with 
 gentle gratitude. 
 
 " Ah ! this is hair," said the old lady, running her fin- 
 gers through it. " Come and look at it, Richt !" 
 
 Richt came and handled it, and praised it unaffectedly. 
 The poor child that owned it was not quite out of the 
 reach of flattery (owing, no doubt, to her not being 
 dead). 
 
 " In sooth, madam, I did use to think it hideous ; but 
 he praised it, and ever since then I have been almost vain 
 of it, God forgive me. You know how foolish those are 
 that love." 
 
 " They are greater fools that don't," said the old lady 
 sharply. 
 
 Margaret opened her lovely eyes, and looked at her 
 for her meaning. 
 
 This was only the first of many visits. In fact, either 
 Margaret Van Eyck or Richt came nearly every day un- 
 til their patient was convalescent; and she improved 
 rapidly under their hands. Richt attributed this princi- 
 pally to certain nourishing dishes she prepared in Peter's 
 kitchen ; but Margaret herself thought more of the kind 
 words and eyes that kept telling her she had friends to 
 live for. Her gratitude to her old friend was ardent
 
 166 A GOOD TIGHT. 
 
 \ 
 
 and touching, and there was no mistaking its depth and 
 sincerity. 
 
 Martin Wittenhaagen went straight to Rotterdam, to 
 take the bull by the horns. The bull in question was 
 Philip the Good, duke of this, earl of that, lord of the 
 other. Arrived at Rotterdam, he found the court was 
 at Ghent. To Ghent he went, and sought an audience, 
 but was put off and baffled by lacqueys and pages. So 
 he threw himself in his sovereign's way out hunting, and, 
 contrary to all court precedents, commenced the conver- 
 sation by roaring lustily for mercy. 
 
 " Why, where is the peril, man ?" said the duke, look- 
 ing all round, and laughing. 
 
 " Grace for an old soldier hunted down by burgh- 
 ers !" 
 
 Now kings differ in character like other folk ; but 
 there is one trait they have in common ; they are might- 
 ily inclined to be affable to men of very low estate in- 
 deed. These do not vie with them in any thing what- 
 ever, so jealousy can not creep in ; and they amuse them 
 by their bluntness and novelty, and refresh them with a 
 touch of nature a rarity in courts. So Philip the Good 
 reined in his horse and gave Martin almost a tete-a-tete, 
 and Martin reminded him of a certain battle-field where 
 he had received an arrow intended for his sovereign. 
 The Duke remembered the incident perfectly, and was 
 graciously pleased to take a cheerful view of it. He 
 could afford to. Then Martin told his sovereign of Ge- 
 rard's first capture in the church, his imprisonment in 
 the tower, and the manoeuvre by which they got him 
 out, and all the details of the hunt ; and, whether he told 
 it better than I have, or that the Duke had not heard so 
 many good stories as you have, certain it is Duke got so 
 excited, that, when a number of courtiers came galloping 
 up and interrupted Martin, he swore like a costermonger 
 and threatened, only half in jest, to cut off the next head
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 169 
 
 that should come between him and a good story : and 
 when Martin had done, he said : 
 
 " St. Luke ! what sport goeth on in this mine earldom 
 ay ! in my own woods, and I see it not. You fellows 
 have all the luck." And he was indignant at the par- 
 tiality of Fortune. " Lo you now ! this was a man-hunt !" 
 said he. " Znever had the luck to be at a man-hunt." 
 
 " My luck was none so great," replied Martin, bluntly ; 
 " I was on the wrong side of the dogs' noses." 
 
 " Ah ! so you were : I forgot that." And royalty 
 was almost reconciled to its lot. "What would you 
 then?" 
 
 "A free pardon, your highness, for myself and Ge- 
 rard." 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 " For prison-breaking." 
 
 " Go to : the bird will fly from the cage. 'Tis instinct. 
 Besides, coop a young man up for loving a young wom- 
 an ? These burgomasters must be void of common-sense. 
 What else?" 
 
 " For striking down the Burgomaster." 
 
 "Oh! the hunted boar will turn to bay. 'Tis his 
 right, and I hold him less than man that grudges it him. 
 What else?" 
 
 " For killing of the blood-hounds." 
 
 The Duke's countenance fell. 
 
 " 'Twas their life or mine," said Martin, eagerly. 
 
 " Ay ! but I can't have my blood-hounds, my beautiful 
 blood-hounds, sacrificed to " 
 
 " No, no, no ! They were not your dogs." 
 
 "Whose, then?" 
 
 "The ranger's." 
 
 " Oh. Well, I am very sorry for him, but, as I was 
 saying, I can't have my old soldiers sacrificed to his 
 blood-hounds. Thou shalt have thy free pardon." 
 
 "And poor Gerard?" 
 
 " And poor Gerard too, for thy sake. And more, tell 
 H
 
 170 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 thou this Burgomaster his doings mislike me : this is to 
 set up for a king, not a burgomaster. I'll have no kings 
 in Holland but one. Bid him be more humble, or by St. 
 Jude I'll hang him before his own door, as I hanged the 
 Burgomaster of what's the name, some town or other in 
 Flanders it was : no, 'twas somewhere in Brabant no 
 matter I hanged him, I remember that much for op- 
 pressing poor folk." 
 
 The Duke then beckoned his chancellor, a pursy old 
 fellow that sat his horse like a sack, and bade him write 
 out a free pardon for Martin and one Gerard. 
 
 This precious document was drawn up in form and 
 signed next day, and Martin hastened home with it. 
 
 Margaret had left her bed some days, and was sitting 
 pale and pensive by the fireside, when he burst in, wav- 
 ing the parchment, and crying, " A free pardon, girl, for 
 Gerard as well as me! Send for him back when you 
 will ; all the burgomasters on earth daren't lay a finger 
 on him." 
 
 She flushed all over with joy, and her hands trembled 
 with eagerness as she took the parchment, and devoured 
 it with her eyes, and kissed it again and again, and flung 
 her arms round Martin's neck, and kissed him. When 
 she was calmer, she told him Heaven had raised her up 
 a friend in the dame Van Eyck. " And I would fain 
 consult her on this good news : but I have not strength 
 to wall so far." 
 
 " What need to walk? There is my mule." 
 
 "Your mule, Martin?" 
 
 The old soldier or professional pillager laughed, and 
 confessed he had got so used to her, that he forgot at 
 times Ghysbrecht had a prior claim. To-morrow he 
 would turn her into the Burgomaster's yard, but to-night 
 she should carry Margaret to Tergou. 
 
 It was nearly dusk ; so Margaret ventured, and about 
 seven in the evening she astonished and gladdened her 
 new but ardent friend by arriving at her house with
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 171 
 
 unwonted roses on her cheeks, and Gerard's pardon in 
 her bosom. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 SOME are old in heart at forty, some are young at 
 eighty. Margaret Van Eyck's heart was an evergreen. 
 She loved her young namesake with youthful ardor. 
 Nor was this new sentiment a mere caprice: she was 
 quick at reading character, and saw in Margaret Brandt 
 that which in one of her own sex goes far with an intel- 
 ligent woman genuineness. But, besides her own ster- 
 ling qualities, Margaret Brandt had from the first a potent 
 ally in the old artist's bosom. 
 Human nature. 
 
 Strange as it may appear to the unobservant, our hearts 
 warm more readily to those we have benefited than to 
 our benefactors. Some of the Greek philosophers noticed 
 this ; but the British Homer has stamped it in immortal 
 lines: 
 
 I heard, and thought how side by side 
 
 We two had stemmed the battle's tide 
 
 In many a well-debated field, 
 
 Where Bertram's breast was Philip's shield. 
 
 I thought on Darien's deserts pale, 
 
 Where Death bestrides the evening gale, 
 
 How o'er my friend my cloak I threw, 
 
 And fenceless faced the deadly dew. 
 
 I thought on Quariana's cliff, 
 
 Where, rescued from our foundering skiff, 
 
 Through the white breakers' wrath I bdre 
 
 Exhausted Mortram to the shore ; 
 
 And when his side an arrow found, 
 
 I sucked the Indian's venom'd wound. 
 
 These thoughts like torrents rushed along 
 
 To sweep away my purpose strong. 
 
 Observe! this assassin's hand is stayed by memory, 
 not of benefits received, but benefits conferred.
 
 172 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Now Margaret Van Eyck had been wonderfully kind 
 to Margaret Brandt ; had broken through her own habits 
 to go and see her ; had nursed her, and soothed her, and 
 petted her, and cured her more than all the medicine in 
 the world. So her heart opened to the recipient of her 
 goodness, and she loved her now far more tenderly than 
 she had ever loved Gerard, though, in truth, it was purely 
 out of regard for Gerard she had visited her in the first 
 instance. 
 
 When, therefore, she saw the unwonted roses on Mar- 
 garet's cheek, and read the bit of parchment that had 
 brought them there, she gave up her own views without 
 a murmur. 
 
 " Sweetheart," said she, " I did desire he should stay 
 in Italy five or six years, and come back rich, and, above 
 all, an artist. But your happiness is before all, and I see 
 you can't live without him, so we must have him home 
 as fast as may be." 
 
 " Ah, madam ! you divine my very thoughts." And 
 the young woman hung her head a moment and blushed. 
 " But how to let him know, Madam ? That passes my 
 skill. He is gone to Italy ; but what part, that I know 
 not. Stay ! he named the cities he should visit. Flor- 
 ence was one, and Rome. But then " 
 
 Finally, being a sensible girl, she divined that a letter, 
 addressed " My Gerard Italy," might chance to miscar- 
 ry, and she looked imploringly at her friend for counsel. 
 
 " You are come to the right place, and at the right 
 
 tune," said the old lady. " Here was this Hans Memling 
 
 with me to-day ; he is going to Italy, girl, no later than 
 
 ' next week ' to improve his hand,' he says. Not before 
 
 'twas needed, I do assure you." 
 
 "But how is he to find my Gerard ?" 
 
 "Why, he knows your Gerard, child. They have 
 supped here more than once, and were like hand and 
 glove. Now, as his business is the same as Gerard's "' 
 
 " What ! he is a painter then ?"
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 173 
 
 " He passes for one. He will visit the same places as 
 Gerard, and, soon or late, he must fall in with him. 
 Wherefore, get you a long letter written, and copy out 
 this pardon into it, and I'll answer for the messenger. 
 In six months at farthest Gerard shall get it ; and when 
 he shall get it, then will he kiss it, and put it in his bosom, 
 and come flying home. What are you smiling at? And 
 now what makes your cheeks so red ? And what you 
 are smothering me for, I can not think My darling! 
 yes ! happy days are coming to my little pearl." 
 
 Meantime, Martin sat in the kitchen, with the black- 
 jack before him and Richt Heynes spinning beside him : 
 and, wow ! but she pumped him that night. 
 
 This Hans Memling was an old pupil of Jan Van Eyck 
 and his sister. He was a painter, notwithstanding Mar- 
 garet's sneei', and a good soul enough, with one fault. 
 He loved the " nipperkin, canakin, and the brown bowl" 
 more than they deserve. This singular penchant kept 
 him from amassing fortune, and was the cause that he 
 often came to Margaret Van Eyck for a meal, and some- 
 times for a groat. But this gave her a claim on him, 
 and she knew he would not trifle with any commission 
 she should intrust to him. 
 
 The letter was duly written, and left with Margaret 
 Van Eyck ; and, the following week, sure enough, Hans 
 Memling returned from Flanders. Margaret Van Eyck 
 gave him the letter, and a piece of gold toward his trav- 
 eling expenses. He seemed in a hurry to be off. 
 
 " All the better," said the old artist ; " he will be the 
 sooner in Italy." 
 
 But as there are horses who burn and rage to start, 
 and after the first yard or two want the whip, so all this 
 hurry cooled into inaction when Hans got a3 far as the 
 principal hostelry of Tergou, and saw two of his boon 
 companions sitting in the bay window. He went in for 
 a parting glass with them ; but when he offered to pay
 
 174 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 they would not hear of it. No ; he was going a long 
 journey ; they would treat him every body must treat 
 him, the landlord and all. 
 
 It resulted from this treatment tnat his tongue got as 
 loose as if the wine had been oil ; and he confided to the 
 convivial crew that he was going to show the Italians 
 how to paint : next he sang his exploits in battle, for he 
 had handled a pike; and his amorous successes with 
 females, luckily not present to oppose their version of 
 the incidents. In short, "plenus rimarum erat: hue 
 illuc diffluebat :" and among the miscellaneous matters 
 that oozed out, he must blab that he was intrusted with 
 a letter to a townsman of theirs, one Gerard, a good fel- 
 low. He added : " you are all good fellows :" and he 
 slapped Sybrandt on the back so heartily, that the breath 
 was driven out of his body. 
 
 Sybrandt on this got a long way off; but listened to 
 every word, and learned for the first time that Gerard 
 was gone to Italy. However, to make sure, he affected 
 to doubt it. 
 
 " My brother Gerard is never in Italy." 
 
 " Ye lie, ye cur," roared Hans, taking instantly the 
 irascible turn, and not remarking that he who now sat 
 opposite him was the same he had eulogized, and hit, 
 when beside him. " If he was ten times your brother, 
 he is in Italy. What call ye this ? There, read me that 
 superscription !" and he' flung down a letter on the table. 
 
 Sybrandt took it up and examined it gravely; but 
 eventually laid it down, with the remark that he could 
 not read. However, one of the company, by some im- 
 mense fortuity, could read : and, proud of so rare an ac- 
 complishment, took it, and read it out : " To Gerard Ge- 
 rardssoen, of Tergou. These by the hand of the trusty 
 Hans Hemling, with all speed." 
 
 " 'Tis excellently well writ," said the reader, examining 
 every letter. 
 
 " Ay !" said Hans, bombastically, " and small wonder ;
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 175 
 
 'tis writ by a famous hand ; by Margaret, sister of Jan 
 Van Eyck. Blessed and honored be his memory ! She 
 is an old friend of mine, is Margaret Van Eyck." 
 
 Miscellaneous Hans' then diverged into forty topics. 
 
 Sybrandt stole out of the company, and went in search 
 of Cornelis. 
 
 They put their heads together over the news: Italy 
 was an immense distance off. If they could only keep 
 him there ? 
 
 "Keep him there? Nothing would keep him long 
 from his Margaret." 
 
 "Curse her!" said Sybrandt. "Why didn't she die 
 when she was about it ?" 
 
 " She die ! She would outlive the pest to vex us." 
 And he was wroth at her selfishness in not dying, to 
 oblige. 
 
 These two black sheep kept putting their heads to- 
 gether, and tainting each other worse and worse, till at 
 last their corrupt hearts conceived a plan for keeping 
 Gerard in Italy all his life, and so securing his share of 
 their father's substance. 
 
 But when they had planned it they were no nearer 
 the execution ; for that required talent : so iniquity came 
 to a stand still. But presently, as if Satan had come be- 
 tween the two heads, and whispered into the right ear 
 of one and the left of the other simultaneously, they 
 both burst out at once with the same word, 
 
 "THE BURGOMASTER!" 
 
 They went to Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, and he re- 
 ceived them at once : for the man who is under the tor- 
 ture of suspense catches eagerly at knowledge. Certain- 
 ty is often painful, but seldom, like suspense, intolerable. 
 
 " You have news of Gerard ?" said he eagerly. 
 
 Then they told him about the letter and Hans Mem- 
 ling. He listened with restless eye. " Who writ this 
 letter?"
 
 176 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 " Margaret Van Eyck," was the reply : for they nat- 
 urally thought the contents were by the same hand as 
 the superscription. 
 
 " Are ye sure ?" And he went to a drawer and drew 
 out a paper written by Margaret Van Eyck while treat- 
 ing with the Burgh for her house. " Was it writ like 
 this?" 
 
 " Yes. 'Tis the same writing," said Sybrandt, boldly. 
 
 "Good! And now what would ye of me?" said 
 Ghysbrecht, with beating heart, but a carelessness so 
 well feigned that it staggered them. They fumbled 
 with their bonnets, and stammered and spoke a word or 
 two, then hesitated and beat about the bush, and let out 
 by degrees that they wanted a letter written, to say 
 something that would be sure to keep Gerard in Italy, 
 and this letter they proposed to substitute in Hans Mem- 
 ling's wallet for the one he carried. While these fum- 
 bled with their bonnets and their iniquity, and vacillated 
 between respect for a burgomaster, and their knowledge 
 that this one was as great a rogue as themselves, and, 
 somehow or other, on their side against Gerard, pros 
 and cons were coursing one another to and fro in the 
 keen old man's spirit. Vengeance said let Gerard come 
 back and feel the weight of the law. Prudence said 
 keep him a thousand miles off. But then prudence said 
 also, why do dirty work on a doubtful chance ? Why 
 put it in the power of these two rogues to tarnish your 
 name ? Finally, his strong persuasion that Gerard was 
 in possession of a secret by means of which he could 
 wound him to the quick, coupled with his caution, result- 
 ed thus : " It is my duty to aid the citizens that can not 
 write. But for their matter I will not be responsible. 
 Tell me, then, what I shall write." 
 
 " Something about this Margaret." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! that she is false, that she is married to an- 
 other, I'll go bail." 
 
 " Nay, Burgomaster, nay ! not for all the world !" cried
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 177 
 
 Sybrandt ; " Gerard would not believe it, or but half, 
 and then he would come back to see. No ; say that she 
 is dead." 
 
 " Dead ! what at her age ? will he credit that ?" 
 
 " Sooner than the other. Why she was nearly dead, 
 so it is not to say a downright lie, after all." 
 
 " Humph ? And you think that will keep him in 
 Italy?" 
 
 " We are sure of it, are we not, Cornelis ?" 
 
 "Ay," said Cornelis, "our Gerard will never leave 
 Italy now he is there. It was afways his dream to get 
 there. He would come back for his Margaret, but not 
 for us. What cares he for us? He despises his own 
 family always did." 
 
 " This would be a bitter pill to him," said the old hyp- 
 ocrite. 
 
 " It will be for his good in the end," replied the young 
 one. 
 
 " What avails Famine wedding Thirst," said Cornelis. 
 
 "And the grief you are preparing for him so coolly:" 
 Ghysbrecht spoke sarcastically, but tasted his own venge- 
 ance all the time. 
 
 " Oh, a lie is not like a blow with a curtal axe. It 
 hacks no flesh, and breaks no bones." 
 
 "A curtal axe!" said Sybrandt; "no, nor even like a 
 stroke with a cudgel!" and he shot a sly envenomed 
 glance at the Burgomaster's broken nose. 
 
 Ghysbrecht's face turned white with ire when this ad- 
 der's tongue struck his wound. But it told, as intended : 
 the old man bristled with hate. 
 
 " Well," said he, " tell me what to write for you, and 
 I must write it : but, take notice, you bear the blame if 
 nught turns amiss. Not the hand which writes, but the 
 tongue which dictates, doth the deed." 
 
 The brothers assented warmly, sneering within. Ghys- 
 brecht then drew his inkhorn toward him, and laid the 
 specimen of Margaret Van Eyck's writing before him, 
 
 H2
 
 178 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 and made some inquiries as to the size and shape of the 
 letter ; when an unlooked-for interruption occurred ; Jo- 
 rian Ketel burst hastily into the room, and looked vexed 
 at not finding him alone. 
 
 " Thou seest I have matter on hand, good fellow." 
 
 " Ay ; but this is grave. I bring good news ; but 'tis 
 not for every ear." 
 
 The Burgomaster rose, and drew Jorian aside into the 
 embrasure of his deep window, and then the brothers 
 heard them converse in low but eager tones. It ended 
 by Ghysbrecht sending Jorian out to saddle his mule. 
 He then addressed the black sheep with a sudden cold- 
 ness that amazed them : 
 
 " I value the peace of families ; but this is not a thing 
 to be done in a hurry : we will see about it, we will see." 
 
 " But, Burgomaster, the man will be gone. It will be 
 too late." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 "At the hostelry, drinking." 
 
 " Well, keep him drinking. We will see, we will see." 
 And he sent them off discomfited. 
 
 To explain all this we must retrograde a step. This 
 very morning, then, Margaret Brandt had met Jorian 
 Ketel near her own door. He passed her with a scowl. 
 This struck her and she remembered him. 
 
 " Stay," said she. " Yes ! it is the good man who 
 saved him. Oh ! why have you not been near me since ? 
 And why have you not come for the parchments ? Was 
 it not true about the hundred crowns ?" 
 
 Jorian gave a snort ; but, seeing her face that looked 
 so candid, began to think there might be some mistake. 
 He told her he had come, and how he had been re- 
 ceived. 
 
 "Alas!" said she, "I knew naught of this. I lay at 
 death's door." She then invited him to follow her, and 
 took him into the garden and showed him the spot
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 179 
 
 where the parchments were buried. "Martin was for 
 taking them up, but I would not let him. He, put them 
 there, and I said none should move them but you, who 
 had earned them so well of him and me." 
 
 "Give me a spade!" cried Jorian, eagerly. "But, 
 stop ! No ; he is a suspicious man. You are sure they 
 are there still?" 
 
 " Sure ? I will openly take the blame if human hand 
 hath touched them." 
 
 " Then keep them but two hours more, I prithee, good 
 Margaret," said Jorian, and ran off to the Stadthouse of 
 Tergou a joyful man. 
 
 The rest you have divined. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE Burgomaster was also a joyful man as he jogged 
 along toward Sevenbergen, with Jorian striding beside 
 him, giving him assurance that in an hour's time the 
 missing parchments would be in his hand. 
 
 " Ah ! master," said he, " lucky for us it wasn't a thief 
 that took them." 
 
 " Not a thief? not a thief? what call you him, then?" 
 
 ".Well, saving your presence, I call him a jackdaw. 
 This is a piece of jackdaw's work, if ever there was ; 
 take the thing you are least in want of, and hide it 
 that's a jackdaw. I should know," added Jorian, oracu- 
 larly, " for I was brought up with a jackdaw. He and I 
 were born the same year, but he cut his teeth long be- 
 fore me, and, wow ! but my life was a burden for years 
 all along of him. If you had but a hole in your hose no 
 bigger than a groat, in went his beak like a gimlet ; and 
 in the matter of stealing, he was Gerard all over. What 
 he wanted least, and any poor Christian in the house 
 wanted most, that went first. Mother was a notable 
 woman, so if she did but look round, away flew her
 
 180 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 thimble. Father lived by cordwaining, so about sunrise 
 Jack went diligently away with his awl, his wax, and his 
 twine. After that, make your bread how you could! 
 One day I heard my mother tell him to his face he was 
 enough to corrupt half a dozen children ; and he only 
 cocked his eye at her, and next minute away with the 
 nurseling's shoe off his very foot. Now this Gerard is 
 tarred with the same stick. The parchments are no 
 more unto him than a thimble or an awl to Jack. He 
 took 'em out of pure mischief and hid them, and you 
 would never have found them but for me." 
 
 "I believe you are right," said Ghysbrecht, "and I 
 have vexed myself more than need." 
 
 When they came to Peter's gate he felt uneasy. 
 
 " I wish it had been any where but here." 
 
 Jorian reassured him. 
 
 " The girl is honest and friendly," said he. " She had 
 nothing to do with taking them, I'll be sworn!" and 
 he led him into the garden. " There, master, if a face 
 is to be believed, here they lie ; and, see, the mould is 
 loose." 
 
 He ran for a spade which was stuck up in the ground 
 at some distance, and soon went to work and uncovered 
 a parchment. Ghysbrecht saw it, and thrust him aside 
 and went down on his knees and tore it out of the hole. 
 His hands trembled and his face shone. He threw out 
 parchment after parchment, and Jorian dusted them and 
 cleaned them and shook them. Now, when Ghysbrecht 
 had thrown out a great many, his face began to darken 
 and lengthen, and when he came to the last he put his 
 hands to his temples and seemed to be all amazed. Then 
 a chill traversed his frame. 
 
 "What mystery lies here?" he gasped. "Are fiends 
 mocking me? Dig deeper! There must be another!" 
 
 Jorian drove the spade in and threw out quantities of 
 hard mould. In vain. And even while he dug, his mas- 
 ter's mood had changed.
 

 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 183 
 
 " Treason ! treachery !" he cried. " You knew of 
 this!" 
 
 " Knew what, master, in Heaven's name ?" 
 
 " Caitiff, you knew there was another one worth all 
 these twice told." 
 
 "Tis false!" cried Jorian, made suspicious by the 
 otner's suspicion. " 'Tis a trick to rob me of my hund- 
 red crowns. Oh ! I know you, Burgomaster." And 
 Jorian was ready to whimper. 
 
 A sweet voice fell on them both like oil upon the 
 waves. " No, good man, it is not false, nor yet is it quite 
 true : there was another parchment." 
 
 " There, there, there ! Where is it ?" 
 
 " But," continued Margaret calmly, " it was not a town 
 record (so you have gained your hundred crowns, good 
 man) : it was but a private deed between the Burgo- 
 master here and my grandfather Flor " 
 
 "Hush, hush!" 
 
 " is Brandt." 
 
 " Where is it, girl ? that is all we want to know." 
 
 " Have patience, and I shall tell you. Gerard read the 
 title of it, and he said, * This is as much yours as the 
 Burgomaster's,' and he put it apart, to read it with me 
 at his leisure." 
 
 " It is in the house, then ?" said the Burgomaster, re- 
 covering his calmness. 
 
 " No, sir," said Margaret, gravely, " it is not." Then, 
 in a broken voice, " You hunted my poor Gerard so 
 hard and so close that you gave him no tune to 
 think of aught but his life and his grief. The parch- 
 ment was in his bosom, and he hath ta'en it with him." 
 
 "Whither, whither?" 
 
 "Ask me no more, sir. What right have you to ques- 
 tion me thus? It was for your sake, good man, I put 
 force upon my heart, and bore to speak at all to this hard 
 old man. For, when I think of the misery he has brought 
 on him and me, the sight of him is almost more than I
 
 184 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 can bear :" and she gave an involuntary shudder, and 
 went away crying bitterly. 
 
 Remorse for the past, and dread of the future, the slow, 
 but, as he now felt, the inevitable future, avarice and fear, 
 all tugged in one short moment at this tough heart. 
 Ghysbrecht hung his head, and his arms fell listless by 
 his sides. A coarse chuckle made him start round, and 
 there stood Martin Wittenhaagen leaning on his bow, 
 and sneering from ear to ear. At sight of the man and 
 his grinning face, Ghysbrecht's worse passions awoke. 
 
 "Ho! attack him, seize him, traitor and thief!" cried 
 he. " Dog, thou shalt pay for all." 
 
 Martin, without a word, calmly produced the Duke's 
 pardon. Ghysbrecht looked and had not a word to say. 
 Martin followed up his advantage. 
 
 "The Duke and I are soldiers. He won't let you 
 greasy burghers trample on an old comrade. He bade 
 me carry you a message too." 
 
 " The Duke send a message to me ?" 
 
 " Ay ! I told him of your masterful doings, of your 
 imprisoning Gerard for loving a girl, and says he, ' Tell 
 him this is to be a king, not a burgomaster. I'll have no 
 kings in Holland but one. Bid him be more humble, or 
 I'll hang him at his own door ' " 
 
 Ghysbrecht trembled. He thought the Duke capable 
 of the deed. 
 
 " ' as I hanged the Burgomaster of Thingembob.' 
 The Duke could not mind which of you he had hung, or 
 in what part ; such trifles don't stick in a soldier's mem- 
 ory, but he was sure he had hanged one of you for grind- 
 ing poor folk, ' and I'm the man to hang another,' said 
 the good Duke." 
 
 These repeated insults from so mean a man, coupled 
 with his invulnerability, shielded as he was by the Duke, 
 drove the choleric old man into a fit of impotent fury ; 
 he shook his fist at the soldier, and tried to threaten him, 
 but could not speak for the rage and mortification that'
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 185 
 
 choked him : then he gave a sort of screech, and coiled 
 himself up in eye and form like a rattlesnake about to 
 strike ; and spat furiously upon Martin's doublet. 
 
 The thick-skinned soldier treated this ebullition with 
 genuine contempt. " Here's a venomous old toad ! he 
 knows a kick from this foot would send him to his last 
 home ; and he wants me to cheat the gallows. But I 
 have slain too many men in fair fight to lift limb against 
 any thing less than a man : and this I count no man. 
 What is it, in Heaven's name ? An old goat's-skin bag 
 full o' rotten bones." 
 
 " My mule ! my mule !" screamed Ghysbrecht. 
 
 Jorian helped the old man up, trembling in every joint. 
 Once in the saddle, he seemed to gather in a moment un- 
 natural vigor ; and the figure that went flying to Tergou 
 was truly weird-like and terrible: so old and wizened 
 the face ; so white and reverend the streaming hair ; so 
 baleful the eye ; so fierce the fury which shook the bent 
 frame that went spurring like mad ; while the quavering 
 voice yelled, " I'll make their hearts ache ! I'll make 
 their hearts ache! I'll make their hearts ache! I'll 
 make their hearts ache! All of them! All! all! 
 all!" 
 
 The black sheep sat disconsolate amid the convivial 
 crew, and eyed Hans Memling's wallet. For more ease 
 he had taken it off, and flung it on the table. How read- 
 ily they could have taken out that letter and put in an- 
 other. For the first time in their lives they were sorry 
 they had not learned to write, like their brother. 
 
 And now Hans Memling began to talk of going, and 
 the brothers agreed in a whisper to abandon their proj- 
 ect for the time. They had scarcely resolved this, when 
 Dierich Brower stood suddenly in the door-way, and 
 gave them a wink. 
 
 They went to him. " Come to the Burgomaster with 
 all speed," said he.
 
 186 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 They found Ghysbrecht seated at a table, pale and 
 agitated. Before him lay Margaret Van Eyck's hand- 
 writing. " I have written what you desired," said he. 
 " Now for the superscription. What were the words ? 
 did ye see ?" 
 
 " We can not read," said Cornelis. 
 
 " Then is all this labor lost," cried Ghysbrecht angrily. 
 "Dolts!" 
 
 " Nay, but," said Sybrandt, " I heard the words read, 
 and I have not lost them. They were, ' To Gerard Ge- 
 rardssoen, these by the hands of the trusty Hans Mem- 
 ling with all speed.' " 
 
 "'Tis well. Now, how was the letter folded? how 
 big was it ?" 
 
 " Longer than this one, and not so long as this." 
 
 " 'Tis well. Where is he ?" 
 
 " At the hostelry." 
 
 " Come, then, take you this groat, and treat him. Then 
 ask to see the letter, and put this in place of it. Come 
 to me with the other letter." 
 
 The brothers assented, took the letter, and went to the 
 hostelry. 
 
 They had not been gone a minute, when Dierich 
 Brower issued from the Stadthouse, and followed them. 
 He had his orders not to let them out of his sight till 
 the true letter was in his master's hands. He watched 
 outside the hostelry. 
 
 He had not long to wait. They came out almost im- 
 mediately, with downcast looks. Dierich made up to 
 them. 
 
 " Too late !" they cried ; " too late ! He is gone !" 
 
 "Gone! How long?" 
 
 " Scarce five minutes. Cursed chance !"
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 187 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI, 
 
 "You must come to the Burgomaster at once," said 
 Dierich Brower. 
 
 "To what end?" 
 
 "No matter; come:" and he hurried them to the 
 Stadthouse. 
 
 Ghysbrecht Van Swieten was not the man to accept a 
 defeat. " Well," said he, on hearing the ill news, " sup- 
 pose he is gone. Is he mounted ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then what hinders you to come up with him ?" 
 
 " But what avails coming up with him ? there are no 
 hostelries on the road he is gone." 
 
 " Fools !" said Ghysbrecht, " is there no way of empty- 
 ing a man's pockets but liquor and sleight of hand ?" 
 
 A meaning look, that passed between Ghysbrecht and 
 Dierich, aided the brothers' comprehension. They 
 changed color, and lost all zeal for the business. 
 
 "No! no! we won't get ourselves hanged to spite 
 Gerard," said Sybrandt ; " that would be a fool's trick." 
 
 " Hanged ?" cried Ghysbrecht. " Am I not the Burg- 
 omaster ? How can ye be hanged ? I see how 'tis : ye 
 fear to tackle one man, being two : hearts of hare, that ye 
 are ! Oh ! why can not I be young again ? I'd do it 
 single-handed." 
 
 The old man now threw off all disguise, and showed 
 them his heart was in this deed. He then flattered and 
 besought, and jeered them alternately, but he found no 
 eloquence could move them to an action, however dis- 
 honorable, which was attended with danger. At last 
 he opened a drawer, and showed them a pile of silver 
 coins. 
 
 " Change but those letters for me," he said, " and each
 
 188 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 of you shall thrust one hand into this drawer and take 
 away as many of them as you can hold." 
 
 The effect was magical. Their eyes glittered with de- 
 sire. Their whole bodies seemed to swell, and rise into 
 male energy. 
 
 " Swear it, then," said Sybrandt. 
 
 " I swear it." 
 
 " No. On the crucifix." 
 
 Ghysbrecht swore upon the crucifix. 
 
 The next minute the brothers were on the road, in 
 pursuit of Hans Hemling. They came in sight of him 
 about two leagues from Tergou ; but though they knew 
 he had no weapon but his staff, they were too prudent to 
 venture on him in daylight ; so they fell back. 
 
 But being now three leagues and more from the town, 
 and on a grassy road sun down, moon not yet up 
 honest Hans suddenly found himself attacked before and 
 behind at once by men with uplifted knives, who cried 
 in loud though somewhat shaky voices, " Stand and de- 
 liver." 
 
 The attack was so sudden, and so well planned, that 
 Hans was dismayed. " Slay me not, good fellows," he 
 cried : " I am but a poor man, and ye shall have my all." 
 
 " So be it, then. Live ! But empty thy wallet." 
 
 " There is naught in my wallet, good friends, but one 
 letter." 
 
 " That we shall see," said Sybrandt, who was the one 
 in front. " Well : it is a letter." 
 
 " Take it not from me, I pray you. 'Tis worth naught, 
 and the good dame would fret that writ it." 
 
 "There," said Sybrandt, "take back thy letter: and 
 now empty thy pouch. Come ! tarry not !" 
 
 But by this time Hans had recovered his confusion : 
 and, by a certain flutter in Sybrandt, and hard breathing 
 of Cornelis, aided by an indescribable consciousness, felt 
 sure the pair he had to deal with were no heroes. He 
 pretended to fumble for his money : then suddenly thrust
 
 A GOOD FIGUT. 189 
 
 liis staff firmly into Sybrandt's face, and drove him stag- 
 gering, and lent Cornells a back-handed slash on the ear 
 that sent him twirling: then whirled his weapon over 
 his head and danced about the road like a man on 
 springs, shouting " Come on, ye thieving loons I Come 
 on!" 
 
 By " come," they understood " go," took to their heels 
 directly, with Hans after them, he shouting " Stop 
 thieves 1" and they howling with fear and pain as they 
 ran. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 ABOUT this time a change passed over Margaret Brandt. 
 She went about her household duties like one in a dream. 
 If Peter did but speak a little quickly to her, she started 
 and fixed two terrified eyes on him. She went less often 
 to her friend Margaret Van Eyck, and was ill at her ease 
 when there. Instead of meeting her warm old friend's 
 caresses, she used to receive them passive and trembling, 
 and sometimes almost shrink from them. But the most 
 extraordinary thing was she never would go outside her 
 own bouse in daylight. When she went to Tergou it 
 was after dusk, and she returned before daybreak. She 
 would not even go to matins. At last Peter, unobserv- 
 ant as he was, noticed it, and asked her the reason. 
 
 "THE FOLK ALL LOOK AT ME SO." 
 
 One day, Margaret Van Eyck asked her what was the 
 matter. A scared look and a flood of tears were all the 
 reply : the old lady expostulated gently. " What, sweet- 
 heart, afraid to confide your sorrows to me ?" 
 
 " I have no sorrows, madam, but of my own making. 
 I am kinder treated than I deserve, especially in this 
 house." 
 
 " Then why not come oftener, my dear ?"
 
 190 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 "I come oftener than I deserve:" and she sighed 
 deeply. 
 
 " There, Bicht is crying out for you," said Margaret 
 Van Eyck ; " go, child ! what on earth can it be ?" 
 
 Turning possibilities over in her mind, she thought 
 Margaret must be mortified at the contempt with which 
 she was treated by Gerard's family. " I will take them 
 to task for it, at least such of them as are women ;" and 
 the very next day she put on her hood and cloak, and 
 followed by Richt went to the hosier's house. Catherine 
 received her with much respect, and thanked her with 
 tears for her kindness to Gerard. But when, encour- 
 aged by this, her visitor diverged to Margaret Brandt, 
 Catherine's eyes dried, and her lips turned to half the 
 size, and she looked as only obstinate, ignorant women 
 can look. When they put on this cast of features, you 
 might as well try to soften or convince a brick wall. 
 Margaret Van Eyck tried, but all in vain. So then, not 
 being herself used to be thwarted, she got provoked, and 
 at last went out hastily with an abrupt and mutilated 
 courtesy, which Catherine returned with an air rather 
 of defiance than obeisance. Outside the door Margaret 
 Van Eyck found Richt conversing with a pale girl on 
 crutches. Margaret Van Eyck was passing them with 
 heightened color, and a scornful toss intended for the 
 whole family, when suddenly a little delicate hand glided 
 timidly into hers, and looking round she saw two dove- 
 like eyes, with the water in them, that sought hers grate- 
 fully, and, at the same time, imploringly. The old lady 
 read this wonderful look, complex as it was, and down 
 went her choler. She stooped and kissed Kate's brow. 
 " I see," said she. " Mind, then, I leave it to you." Re- 
 turned home, she said, " I have been to a house to-day 
 where I have seen a very common thing and a very un- 
 common thing : I have seen a stupid, obstinate woman, 
 and I have seen an angel in the flesh, with a face if I 
 had it here I'd take down my brushes once more, and try 
 and paint it."
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 191 
 
 Little Kate did not belie the good opinion so hastily 
 formed of her. She waited a better opportunity, and 
 told her mother what she had learned from Richt Heynes, 
 that Margaret had shed her very blood for Gerard in the 
 wood. 
 
 " See, mother, how she loves him." 
 
 " Who would not love him ?" 
 
 " Oh, mother, think of it ! Poor thing !" 
 
 " Ay, wench. She has her own trouble, no doubt, as 
 well as we ours. I can't abide the sight of blood, let 
 alone my own." 
 
 This was a point gained ; but when Kate tried to fol- 
 low it up she was stopped short. 
 
 About a month after this a soldier of the Dalgetty 
 tribe, returning from service hi Tuscany, brought a letter 
 one evening to the hosier's house. He was away on bus- 
 iness : but the rest of the family sat at supper. The sol- 
 dier laid the letter on the table by Catherine, and telling 
 them he had his guerdon for bringing it, went off to Sev- 
 enbergen. 
 
 Although for a long tune they had hoped and expect- 
 ed this, yet when it did come it took them by surprise. 
 
 The letter was unfolded and spread out : and curiously 
 enough, though not one of them could read, they could 
 all tell it was Gerard's handwriting. 
 
 "And your father must be away," cried Catherine. 
 " Are ye not ashamed of yourselves ? not one that can 
 read your brother's letter ?" 
 
 But although the words were to them what hiero- 
 glyphics are to us, there was something in the letter they 
 could read. There is an art can speak without words : 
 unfettered by the penman's limits, it can steal through 
 the eye into the heart, and brain, alike of the learned and 
 unlearned, and it can cross a frontier or a sea, yet lose 
 nothing. It is at the mercy of no translator : for it writes 
 a universal language. 
 
 When, therefore, they saw this,
 
 192 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 which Gerard had drawn with his pencil between the 
 two short paragraphs of which his letter consisted, they 
 read it, and it went straight to their hearts. 
 
 Gerard was bidding them farewell. 
 
 As they gazed on that simple sketch, in every turn and 
 line of which they recognized his manner, Gerard seemed 
 present, and bidding them farewell. 
 
 The women wept over it till they could see it no 
 longer. 
 
 Giles said, "Poor Gerard!" in a lower voice than 
 seemed to belong to him. 
 
 Even Cornells and Sybrandt felt a momentary remorse, 
 and sat eying it gloomily. 
 
 But how to get the words read to them. They were 
 loth to show their ignorance and emotion to a stranger. 
 
 " The Dame Van Eyck ?" said Kate, timidly. 
 
 " And so I will, Kate. She has a good heart. She 
 loves Gerard, too. She will be glad to hear of him. I 
 was short with her when she came here, but I will make 
 my submission, and then she will tell me what my poor 
 child says to me." 
 
 She was soon at Margaret Van Eyck's house. Richt 
 took her into a room, and said, "Bide a minute; she is 
 at her orisons." 
 
 There was a young woman in the room seated pensive- 
 ly by the stove ; but she rose and courteously made way 
 for the visitor. * 
 
 " Thank you, young lady ; the winter nights are cold, 
 and your stove is inviting." Catherine then, while warm- 
 ing her hands, inspected her companion furtively from
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 193 
 
 head to foot, both inclusive. The young person wore an 
 ordinary wimple, but her gown was trimmed with fur, 
 which was, in those days, almost a sign of superior rank 
 or wealth. ,But what most struck Catherine was the 
 candor and modesty of the face. She felt sure of sym- 
 pathy from so good a countenance, and began to gossip. 
 
 " Now, what think you brings me here, young lady ? 
 It is a letter : a letter from my poor boy that is far away 
 in some savage part or other. And I take shame to say 
 that none of us can read it. I wonder whether you can 
 read." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Can ye, now ? It is much to your credit, my dear. 
 I dare say she won't be- long ; but every minute is an 
 hour to a poor longing mother." 
 
 " I will read it to you." 
 
 " Bless you, my dear ; bless you !" 
 
 In her unfeigned eagerness she never noticed the sup- 
 pressed eagerness with which the hand was slowly put 
 out to take the letter. She did not see the tremor with 
 which the fingers closed on it. 
 
 " Come, then, read it to me, prithee. I am wearying 
 for it." 
 
 " The first words are, ' To my honored parents.' " 
 
 " Ay ! and he always did honor us, poor soul." 
 
 " ' God and the saints have you in his holy keeping, 
 and bless you by night and by day. Your one harsh 
 deed is forgotten ; your years of love, remembered.' " 
 
 Catherine laid her hand on her bosom, and sank back 
 in her chair with one heart-broken sob. 
 
 " Then comes this, madam. It speaks for itself. A 
 long adieu." 
 
 " Ay, go on, bless you, girl ; you give me sorry com- 
 fort. Still, 'tis comfort." 
 
 " * To my brothers Cornelis and Sybrandt. Be con- 
 tent. You will see me no more !' " 
 
 I
 
 194 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 "What does that mean? Ah! has he seen what I 
 have : or more ?" 
 
 " ' To my sister Kate. Little angel of my father's 
 house. Be kind to her ' Ah !" 
 
 " That is Margaret Brandt, my dear his sweetheart, 
 poor soul. I've not been land to her. Forgive me, Ge- 
 rard !" 
 
 " ' Fqr poor Gerard's sake : since grief to her is death 
 to me ' Ah !" And nature, resenting the poor 
 girl's struggle for unnatural composure, suddenly gave 
 way, and she sank from her chair and lay insensible, with 
 her head on Catherine's knees. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIH. 
 
 EXPERIENCED women are not frightened when a wom- 
 an faints, nor do they hastily attribute it to any thing 
 but those physical causes which they have often seen 
 produce it. Catherine bustled about ; laid the girl down 
 with her head on the floor quite flat, opened the window, 
 and unloosed her dress as she lay. Not till she had done 
 all this did she step to the door and say, rather loudly, 
 
 " Come here, if you please." 
 
 Margaret Van Eyck and Richt came and found Mar- 
 garet lying quite flat, and Catherine beating her hands. 
 
 " Oh, my poor girl, what has happened !" 
 
 " Nothing, madam ; nothing more than is natural in 
 her situation." > 
 
 " My poor Margaret !" 
 
 " Margaret ! What, not Margaret Brandt ?" 
 
 " Yes ! this is the poor girl you are so bitter against. 
 She is coming to, thank heaven!" 
 
 " Me bitter ? Well, so I was ; but my heart is turned 
 toward her somehow, as she was my own child all in 
 one moment. What, sweetheart ? Be not frightened,
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 195 
 
 none are here but friends. And to think of my setting 
 her to read me the letter poor thing !" 
 
 They seated her in an easy-chair. As the color was 
 creeping back to her face and lips, Catherine drew Mar- 
 garet Van Eyck aside. 
 
 " I would not let her go home to-night." 
 
 To enforce this she whispered a few words. Margaret 
 Van Eyck started at them, and without going out of a 
 whisper, went into a passion. 
 
 " It's false ! it is a calumny ! it is monstrous ! Look 
 at her face. It is blasphemy to accuse such a face." 
 
 " Tut ! tut ! tut !" said the other, " you might as well 
 say this is not my hand ! I ought to know. I have had 
 a dozen, besides the numbers I have seen. I tell ye it is 
 so." 
 
 And much to Margaret Van Eyck's surprise she went 
 up to the girl, and, taking her round the neck, kissed her 
 warmly. "I suffered for Gerard, and you shed your 
 blood for him, I do hear : his own words show >me I 
 have been to blame. I've held aloof from you. But I'll 
 make it up to you once I begin. You are my daughter 
 from this hour." 
 
 Another warm embrace sealed this hasty compact, and 
 the woman of impulse was gone. 
 
 Margaret lay back in her chair, and a feeble smile stole 
 over her face. Gerard's mother had kissed her and call- 
 ed her daughter. But the next moment she saw her old 
 friend looking at her with a .solemnity and sadness that 
 were quite new. She slid from her chair to her knees 
 and prayed piteously to the old dame for pardon. From 
 the words and the manner of her penitence a bystander 
 would have gathered she had inflicted some cruel wrong 
 and intolerable insult upon her venerable friend. 
 
 The little party at the hosier's house sat at table dis- 
 cussing the recent event, when their mother returned, 
 and, casting a piercing glance all round the little circle, 
 laid the letter flat on the table. She repeated every
 
 196 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 word of it, following the lines with her finger, then sud- 
 denly lifting her head she cast another keen look on Cor- 
 nelis and Sybrandt : their eyes fell. Then the storm that 
 had long been brewing burst on their heads. 
 
 Catherine seemed to swell like an angry hen ruffling 
 her feathers, and out of her mouth came a Rhone and 
 Saone of wisdom and twaddle, of great and mean in- 
 vective, such as no male that ever was born could utter 
 in one current ; and not many women. " I have long 
 had my doubts that you blew the flame betwixt Gerard* 
 and your father, and set that old rogue Ghysbrecht on. 
 And now here are Gerard's own written words to prove 
 it. You have driven your own flesh and blood into a 
 far land, and robbed the mother that bore you of her 
 darling, the pride of her eye, the joy of her heart. But 
 you are of a piece from end to end. When you were all 
 boys together, my others were a comfort, but you were 
 a curse : mischievous and sly, and it took a woman half 
 her day to keep your clothes whole. For why? work 
 wears cloth, but play cuts it. With the beard conies 
 prudence, but none came to you. Still the last to go to 
 bed, and the last to leave it ; and why ? because honesty 
 goes to bed early, and industry rises betimes. Where 
 there are two lie-a-beds in a house, there are a pair of 
 ne'er-do-weels. Often I've sat and looked at your ways 
 and wondered where you came from. You don't take 
 after your father, and you are no more like me than a 
 wasp is to an ant. Sure you were changed in the cradle, 
 or the cuckoo dropped ye on my floor : for you have not 
 our hands, nor our hearts ; of all my blood none but you 
 ever jeered them that God afflicted ; but often when 
 my back was turned I've heard you mock at Giles, be- 
 cause he is not so big as some, and at my lily Kate (that 
 is poor dear Gerard's word), because she is not so strong 
 as a Flanders mare. After that rob a church an' you 
 will, for you can be no worse in his eyes that made both 
 Kate and Giles, and in mine that suffered for them, poor
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 197 
 
 darlings, as I did for you, you paltry, unfeeling, treason- 
 able curs ! No, I Avill not hush, my daughter, they have 
 filled the cup too full. It takes a deal to turn a mother's 
 heart against the sons she has nursed upon her knees ; 
 and many is the time I have winked and wouldn't see 
 too much, and bitten my tongue lest their father should 
 know them as I do ; he would have put them to the door 
 that moment. But now they have filled the cup too full. 
 And where got ye all this money ? You never wrought 
 for it. I wish I may never hear from other mouths how 
 ye got it. Sloth and greed are ill-mated, my masters : 
 lovers of money must sweat or steal. Well, if you rob- 
 bed a traveler of it, it was some woman I'll go bail, for 
 a man would drive you with his naked hand. No mat- 
 ter ; it is good for one thing, it has shown me how you 
 will guide our gear if ever it comes to be yourn. 
 
 " I have watched you, my lads, this while you have 
 spent a groat a day between you, and I spend scarce a 
 groat a week, and keep you all, good and bad. No! 
 give up waiting for the shoes that will, may be, walk be- 
 hind your coffin, for this shop and this house shall never 
 be yours. Gerard is our heir poor Gerard whom you 
 have banished and done your best to kill ; never call me 
 mother again! But you have only made him tenfold 
 dearer to me. My poor lost boy ! I shall soon see him 
 again, shall hold him hi my arms and set him on my 
 knees. Oh, you may stare. You are too clever, and yet 
 not clever enough. You cut the stalk away, but you 
 left the seed the seed that shall outgrow you, and out- 
 live you. Margaret Brandt is quick, and it is Gerard's, 
 and what is Gerard's is mine, and I have prayed the 
 saints it may be a boy, and it will it must. Oh, Kate, 
 when I found it was so, my bowels yearned over her 
 child unborn as if it had been my own ! 
 
 " He is our heir. He will outlive us. You will not ; 
 for a bad heart in a carcass is like the worm in a nut ; 
 soon brings the body to dust. So, Kate, take down
 
 198 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Gerard's bib and tucker that are in the drawer you wot 
 of, and to-morrow we will carry them to Sevenbergen. 
 We will borrow Peter Buysken's cart and go comfort 
 Gerard's wife under her burden. She is his wife. Who 
 is Ghysbrecht Van Swieten ? Can he come between a 
 couple and the altar, and sunder those that God and the 
 priest make one? She is my daughter; and I am as 
 proud of her as I am of you, Kate : and as for you, keep 
 out of my way awhile, for you are like the black dog in 
 my eyes." 
 
 Cornelis and Sybrandt took the hint and slunk out, 
 aching with remorse, and impenitence, and hate. They 
 kept out of her sight for days ; and she never spoke to 
 them again about their conduct. Liberaverat animam 
 suam. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 GHYSBRECHT VAN SWIETEN heard no more of the 
 black sheep for two days. Then they came and pro- 
 duced the letter they had taken from Hans Memling 
 before he leathered them and claimed their reward. 
 The drawer was opened, and in went their hands. Sy- 
 brandt had slyly glued his without telling Cornelis, for 
 black sheep are not always loyal to one another : so some 
 small coins stuck to the back of his hand, and he got 
 more for his soul than his brother did. When they were 
 gone Ghysbrecht opened the letter, and found, to his sur- 
 prise, it was written by Margaret Brandt. In it the poor 
 girl revealed her situation to her lover, and besought him 
 tenderly to return and save her honor. Her love and 
 her sorrow had found words so simple and touching that 
 Ghysbrecht felt a deeper pang of remorse than ever, and 
 cursed the hour he had fallen into the views of Cornelis 
 and Sybrandt. But it was too late. 
 
 Hans was far away with the fatal letter to tell Gerard 
 Margaret was dead.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 199 
 
 While Ghysbrecht was in this state, he received a 
 summons to answer a charge made against him by the 
 bishop of the diocese, for entering a church profanely, 
 and interrupting the sacrament of marriage by force and 
 arms. 
 
 The cure of Sevenbergen was a mild man, and had sub- 
 mitted to that insult: but he related it months after- 
 ward to others of the clergy, and they took it up instant- 
 ly with ardor, and an esprit du corps, that boded ill for 
 the lay defendant. Soon the lawyers had their word: 
 and after much discussion they settled it thus : That on 
 a special and written authority from the father of either 
 bride or bridegroom, the magistrate might stop a mar- 
 riage even at the altar, provided he did it decently, and 
 sine strepitu, and in a certain form, viz., by a writ first 
 delivered to the officiating priest : but that on a general 
 authority naming no tune nor place, or on an unwritten 
 authority, he could do no act of such weight, this being 
 an interference with the clergy in their proper functions, 
 and in domicilio sancto. On the above particulars a 
 month was given Ghysbrecht to furnish evidence. But 
 this decision was in reality fatal to him. He had no 
 written authority from Gerard senior. He had not done 
 his act in the form by law prescribed, and by no means 
 sine strepitu. Weighing this, and knowing from Mar- 
 tin Wittenhaagen that the Duke was prejudiced against 
 him, he was deeply dejected. In which state a still 
 heavier blow fell on him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 GERARD, who had all his parent's economy, intended 
 to make his pen defray the expenses of his journey. But 
 when he got into Germany he found the art of printing 
 universal, and so beautifully executed that he could not 
 go beyond it. Besides
 
 200 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 Imprimit una dies quantum non scribitur anno. 
 He had the modesty and the sense to see that the best 
 man can't vie with good machinery. He pushed on to 
 Italy, afraid printing would get there before him. The 
 Burgomaster's money enabled him to travel more quick- 
 ly than most pedestrians ; but when he got to Florence 
 his funds had sadly dwindled. He found no printing to 
 speak of at Florence, and a great demand for scribes. 
 
 But alas ! the run was mainly upon Greek MSS., and 
 Gerard, though he knew the Greek character, had no 
 skill to write it. But he set to work with a will and 
 practiced it. When he had, at last, mastered it, he 
 thought he would prepare a specimen of his powers, sur- 
 rounded with a border of fruit and leaves. 
 
 Should he buy a fair piece of vellum to lay it on ? 
 No ; he was Catherine's son : why buy what he had by 
 him ? That old deed was on fair vellum : it was dirty, 
 but then he had a receipt for cleaning vellum. He laid 
 the deed on the table and took his knife to cut it in half, 
 intending to glue the written faces of the two halves to- 
 gether, and so make a glorious solid sheet. 
 
 Now, as he bent over it, a word or two excited his 
 curiosity. " Gently," said he ; " let me not destroy it till 
 I know what it is : it belongs to her" 
 
 Accordingly he read it ; and, as he read it, his cheeks 
 got hot, and his heart began to beat. When he had read 
 it, he studied it ; and the more he studied it, the more 
 sure he was that there was something much better to be 
 done with it than copy Plutarch on it. 
 
 He sat reading and pondering it; and so absorbed 
 that he missed the sight of a face from Holland. Hans 
 Memling passed his little window twice, but Gerard 
 never saw him. 
 
 At peep of day Gerard left Florence. 
 
 Friend and foe had shot at him with love and with 
 hate, and each missed him alike. Neither Margaret's 
 imploring cry to him to return reached him, nor did the
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 201 
 
 false report of her death reach him, though it grazed so 
 horribly near him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXYI. 
 
 MARGARET stole away to Sevenbergen at peep of day ; 
 there she found the soldier had left her a long letter from 
 Gerard. The thousand tender words of love filled her 
 with joy ; but the letter was dated from Florence, and 
 the distance filled her with dismay. " Oh, Gerard !" she 
 cried, " why are you so far from me ? What will become 
 of me if you get not my letter ? I shall die disgraced, 
 for live ashamed I can not." Soon after breakfast Cath- 
 erine came, true to her promise, and was so warm, so 
 cheerful, and motherly, that she revived the drooping 
 flower. Little Kate was unable to come. She was in 
 more pain than usual. From this time the visits of 
 Catherine were frequent. Margaret's despondent state 
 caused her considerable anxiety. She never would come 
 to Tergou ; and indeed would not leave the house. " I 
 held my head too high," she said, " and now I can look 
 no one in the face. The dame Van Eyck tries to forgive 
 me, but she can't : how can she ? None can save me 
 but one, and he comes not ; well-a-day !" 
 
 " I tell you," said Catherine, " you^re his wife, and my 
 daughter ; and don't ye go fretting now, for the sake of 
 the precious burden you are trusted with." But when 
 it transpired publicly that the clergy were proceeding 
 against Ghysbrecht, Catherine came to Sevenbergen 
 buoyant with the news ; and as she told it with a fair 
 share of exaggeration, it brought life into Margaret's 
 pale face for a moment or two. 
 
 One day, as Peter was reading and Margaret leaning 
 her weary head on her new mother's bosom and kissing 
 her hand, and the kind Catherine leaning her head down 
 
 12
 
 202 A GOOD FIGHT. " f 
 
 with assumed cheerfulness, but secret anxiety, over this 
 her pining daughter, so dear to her now, there stood in 
 the door-way the figure of a man in rags, weary with 
 travel, pale, large eyed. Peter glanced off his book, and 
 said, " Pass on, good man, we are too poor to give," then 
 back to his book again. 
 
 There was a swift rush, a staff rattled on the floor, 
 and the worn man was on his knees, with his arms round 
 both the women, speechless and panting for joy. 
 
 " Ah ! my darling ! my darling !" cried his mother, as 
 only a mother can cry ; and Margaret clung tight to him 
 with one long moan of love, and sobbed, and laughed, 
 and wept upon his neck. 
 
 But words have not the power to paint a joy so sud- 
 den, so wild, so all-overpowering. 
 
 An hour later Gerard sat between the two, a hand of 
 each in his hand, and ever and anon kissing a cheek of 
 each alternately as he told his story. 
 
 " Dear Gerard, 'twas my letter brought you ?" 
 
 " No, Margaret, I got no letter. 'Twas this brought 
 me, this deed which shows me your father is a wealthy 
 man ; his father's goods being wrongfully kept from iiim 
 by Ghysbrecht Van Swieten ; I only found it out at 
 Florence. Was I to go on, and leave you in poverty, 
 when I held this talisman to make you rich ?" 
 
 " I am rich in your love. I ask no more. Oh, mother, 
 can this be real ? can any woman be so happy and live?" 
 
 " Why not ? what would she gain by dying ? Gerard, 
 you and I must talk about that deed ; this one is too 
 simple : and now, quick, to Tergou." 
 
 " Ay ; but how can I leave Margaret so soon ?" 
 
 " Mother, he loves me still. I'll come too, Gerard, 
 sooner than the rest should want you." 
 
 And Margaret was half an hour making the little 
 changes in her clothes and hair, that of late had not kept 
 her five minutes. 
 
 And she came down transformed : elastic, and radiant 
 with beauty.
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 203 
 
 " Good lack !" cried Catherine, " we shall want no 
 candles with this one in the room!" 
 
 And hi Buysken's cart went Gerard in rags to Tergou, 
 with a dear hand in each of his, the happiest he in Hol- 
 land. 
 
 Arrived at Tergou, his Spartan sire fell on his neck 
 and kissed him ; and no word was uttered but of love 
 and content ; and little Kate's face was seraphic, and her 
 hand crept alternately into Margaret's and Gerard's. 
 And as they talked, and sometimes sighed sometimes 
 rejoiced over all their troubles now happily ended their 
 glistening eyes and nimble fingers were all busy making 
 Gerard a suit of decent clothes. They hadn't far to go 
 for the cloth, you know. 
 
 Next day, when Gerard went to ask the cure* to marry 
 him, an objection was raised : " This has been discussed, 
 and it is matter of great doubt whether you are not 
 married : if so, it were a sin to repeat the ceremony. 
 This were to throw doubt upon a sacrament." Gerard 
 exclaimed and entreated, and at last it was settled thus : 
 no fresh bans ; the words the cure had uttered not to 
 be repeated ; the service to be taken up from the point 
 reached at the last attempt ; the marriage to be regis- 
 tered as having taken place at that date, Ghysbrecht's 
 interruption having been laic, profane, illegal, null. On 
 these terms the cure consented to read the rest of the 
 mutilated service and to take the fees. 
 
 The piece of parchment was a covenant by which 
 Ghysbrecht had advanced money, many years ago, to 
 Floris Brandt, on the security of certain lands and 
 houses; Ghysbrecht to draw the rents until said sum 
 should be repaid : but, comparing the income with the 
 debt and date of loan, it was clear it had been repaid 
 this sixteen years. Yet Ghysbrecht had quietly gone on 
 holding the property, without a rag of title ; and trust- 
 ing to the learned Peter's stupidity, had set it afloat that 
 he had bought it of Floris Brandt. Thus not only the
 
 204 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 property was Peter's, but the back-rents for many years. 
 As for the title-deeds, Gerard rummaged the philoso- 
 pher's house without much hope. " He has cut them up 
 for labels," said he. Unjust! They were eventually 
 found innocuously lining a drawer, which was full of the 
 seeds of medicinal herbs, and really arranged with con- 
 siderable method the seeds. Gerard's father was a 
 shrewd man, and had many friends in Tergou : he and 
 his party took the matter up, and threatened to indict 
 Ghysbrecht if he did not instantly refund ; these press- 
 ing him hard on one side, and the clergy, whom he had 
 affronted, on the other, Ghysbrecht's rum and disgrace 
 impended. 
 
 But the old fox contrived to give his foes the slip. He 
 was found dead in his bed one morning ; not without 
 some suspicion of having hastened an exit desirable for 
 himself and others. ' 
 
 His heir, a distant relative and a just man, deprecated 
 scandal, and accounted to Peter, or rather to Gerard, his 
 son-in-law and man of business, for every farthing due. 
 Gerard and Margaret then removed to Rotterdam, taking 
 with them Peter, who met with more honor in the city 
 than in the village, and had the glory of curing several 
 personages, among the rest a heathen belonging to the 
 Duke. He lived to a great age, cherished tenderly by 
 his good son and daughter. He soon ceased to be aware 
 that they were not both his children by blood. 
 
 Gerard and Margaret, like many that meet in youth 
 more than their share of trouble, enjoyed more happiness 
 and tranquillity than falls to the usual lot of man. 
 
 The Duke on the report of his giant sent flaming mes- 
 sengers for Giles to come to court. Yain was all remon- 
 strance. The Duke's word was law. Catherine made 
 Giles ready, weeping bitterly. It was an irreparable loss. 
 She could have spared Sybrandt or Cornelis. She had 
 two black sheep. But she had but one dwarf. 
 
 Giles was petted and bedizened, and invested with
 
 A GOOD FIGHT. 205 
 
 privileges. Item on account of his small size he was 
 permitted to speak the truth. It sounded so odd at 
 court. It is a disagreeable thing at best; but he con- 
 trived to make it more so by bellowing it. 
 
 Sybrandt achieved a broken neck without help of halt- 
 er, I forget how. Cornelis, free from all rivals, and for- 
 given long ago by his mother, who clung to him more 
 and more now all her brood was scattered, waited, and 
 waited, and waited, for his parents' decease. But his 
 mother's shrewd word came true : ere she and her mate 
 wore out, this worthy rusted away. At sixty-five he lay 
 dying of old age in his mother's arms, a hale woman of 
 eighty-six. He had lain unconscious awhile; but came 
 to himself in articulo mortis, and seeing her near him, 
 told her how he would transmogrify the shop and prem- 
 ises as soon as they should be his. " Yes, my darling," 
 said the poor old woman, soothingly ; and in another 
 minute he was clay. And that clay was followed to the 
 grave by all the shoes he had waited for. 
 
 After his death the old couple were lonely. Gerard 
 guessed as much, and came for them, and made them 
 sell their shop and goods, and live under his wing, as he 
 had once under theirs. His house was large, his heart 
 was larger. He set them by his chimney-corner, and he 
 and his good Margaret forced comforts on them they 
 would by force of habit have denied themselves. They 
 sat some years by Gerard's hearth, and fondled little 
 heads, and smiled at one another, and spoke of early 
 days, and grew like one another ; and their wrinkled 
 faces had still a beauty, for they shone with benignity. 
 Oh, happy end of lives well spent f All the passions gone, 
 all the affections left. Good citizens these, and good 
 spouses. They reared many children in probity and pie- 
 ty, and never did holy wedlock show holier nor more 
 lovely than in this aged happy pair, whose solace it had 
 been for threescore years and ten. 
 
 Long and long before this little Kate had left her
 
 206 A GOOD FIGHT. 
 
 trouble behind her. There was too much angel in her 
 face for a long abode on earth. She smiled too in pain, 
 another sign. Life gave her but few joys, so it was 
 just that death should come to her without his frown: 
 and thus he came. She was seized with a sudden lassi- 
 tude, and a cessation of that pain which had been her 
 companion from infancy. Her mother tried to think this 
 was a change for the better. But the gossips looked at 
 her face and shook their heads, and said, " She is half 
 way to the saints." Thus painless she lay two days, 
 foretasting heaven. When she was near her end she 
 asked for Gerard's little boy ; he was three years old. 
 They brought him and set him on the bed ; by this time 
 she was past speaking : but she pointed to a drawer : 
 they looked, and found the two gold pieces Gerard had 
 given her years ago. Then she nodded her head toward 
 the boy, and looked anxious lest they should not under- 
 stand her. But they did, and put the tokens of the 
 father's love, so faithfully guarded, into the boy's hands : 
 and when she saw his little fingers close on them, she 
 smiled content; and so, having disposed of her little 
 earthly treasures, she yielded her immortal jewel to God, 
 and passed from earth so calmly, none saw her go. Ge- 
 rard begged to have her crutches, that she had changed 
 so well for angel's pinions ; and he set them in his ora- 
 tory in form of a cross, for he said, "They were my 
 darling sister's crutches, but now they are the relics of a 
 saint." He never forgot her, nor did his memory of her 
 ever wax dim : when he was quite an old man he still 
 spoke of her, with tears in his eyes, as of the one mortal 
 creature he had known, pure from all earthly dross.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF A 
 
 THIEF.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 THE readers of " It is never too late to mend" may re- 
 member that the chaplain set the thief to write his life 
 honestly. He was not to whitewash, and then gild him- 
 self, nor yet to vent one long, self-deceiving howl of gen- 
 eral, and therefore sham penitence, but he was to be, with 
 God's help, his own historian and sober critic. Accord- 
 ingly, Thomas Robinson wrote this autobiography in 
 
 jail ; and my readers may have noticed that at first 
 
 I intended to print it with the novel. 
 
 It cost me a struggle to resign this intention, for it 
 was the central gem of my little coronet. But the novel, 
 without the autobiography, was five ordinary volumes 
 by printers' calculation, and a story within a story is a 
 frightful flaw in art. 
 
 Moreover, I was attacking settled, long-standing preju- 
 dices. Prejudice is a giant, against whom Truth and 
 Humanity need to be defended with great spirit, and, in 
 some desperate cases, with a tiger-like ferocity : " X A dur 
 &ne dur aiguillon;" but there must be some judgment 
 too ; and, take my word for it, there always has been 
 some judgment used, wherever so hard a battle is won. 
 I feared then to multiply paradoxes, and to draw once 
 too often on the faith of the public, as well as on its good 
 heart, I, who carried no personal weight with me. 
 
 But I think my readers are now ripe for this strange 
 but true story, and I dedicate it in particular to such as 
 will deign to accept this clew to my method in writing. 
 
 I feign probabilities; I record improbabilities: the 
 former are conjectures, the latter truths ; mixed, they
 
 212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 make a thing not so true as Gospel nor so false as His- 
 tory, viz., Fiction. 
 
 When I startle you most, think twice before you dis- 
 believe me. What able deceiver aims at shocking cre- 
 dulity? Distrust rather my oily probabilities. They 
 should be true, too, if I could make them ; but I can't ; 
 they are guesses. 
 
 You have seen Thomas Robinson, alias Hie, alias Hie, 
 alias Iste, tinted hi water-colors by me ; now see him 
 painted in oils by himself, and retouched by Mr. Eden. 
 
 A thief is a man, and a man's life is like those geo- 
 graphical fragments children learn " the contagious coun- 
 tries" by. The pieces are a puzzle ; but, put them togeth- 
 er carefully, and, lo ! they are a map. 
 
 The thief then mapped his puzzle, and I think his 
 work will stand. 
 
 These caged autobiographers have a great advantage 
 as writers over other autobiographers that sing false 
 notes of egotism in London squares and American villas 
 built sere alieno. 
 
 Carceravis has been publicly convicted. Mavis and 
 Philomele have not met with so much justice. They 
 could eclipse the novelist and the historian, but they 
 don't even rival them. An alternative lies before them : 
 to chronicle themselves and their acts, and so add great 
 instructive pictures of man to the immortal part of liter- 
 ature, or to idealize, as our pedants call it, to slur, falsi- 
 fy, color themselves up here, and tone themselves down 
 there. Unfortunately for letters, they invariably choose 
 the liedeal ; and instead of coming out bright as stars, 
 the interesting, curious, instructive, valuable rogues, hum- 
 bugs, and courtesans they are, and so being the darlings 
 of posterity, they go mincing to trunkerity, tame, nega- 
 tive, insipid, characterless creatures, not good enough for 
 an example, not bad enough for a warning, but excellent 
 lining for a bandbox. 
 
 No. It is to the detected part of the community we
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 213 
 
 must look for an honest autobiography. Not that self- 
 deception ever retires wholly from a human heart, but 
 that in these there is no good opinion of the world to 
 back their self-deception. It is not so with many an un- 
 convicted rogue, who is far below an average felon : the 
 banker, who steals not from strangers, but friends steals 
 from those who have a claim to his gratitude as well as 
 his honesty ; the rector, who preaches Christ, and swin- 
 dles the young curate out of every halfpenny contrary 
 to law, because the poor boy must get a title though he 
 buy it and begin life with debt ; how will he end it ? 
 The anonymous assassin, the cowardly caitiff of a scrib- 
 bler, who, with no temptation but mere envy, stabs the 
 great in the dark and truckles to them face to face. A 
 felon is a man, and often a resolute one ; but what is this 
 thing that stabs and runs away into a hole ? the shopkeep- 
 ing assassin, who puts red-lead (a deadly poison) into red 
 pepper, and sells death to those by whom he lives. 
 
 The shopkeeping assassin, who puts copper, a deadly 
 and cumulative poison, into pickles and preserves, and 
 poisons those by \vhom he lives. The English assassin, 
 who poisons the young children wholesale in their sugar- 
 plums, and then reads with virtuous indignation of the 
 Sepoys who bayoneted them in their rage instead of kill- 
 ing them cannily. 
 
 The miller, abandoned of God, and awaiting here on 
 earth his eternal damnation, who, king of all these Bor- 
 gias, thief and murderer at once, poisons young and old 
 at life's fountain, breaks life's very staff, mixes plaster of 
 Paris with the flour that is the food of all men the only 
 food, alas ! of more than half the world. 
 
 These and a score more respectables are the hopeless 
 cases. A cracksman or a swell mobsman is terribly hard 
 to cure; but these are incurable. The world's good 
 opinion fortifies their delusion. They open their eyes 
 for the first time in hell. A pickpocket now and then 
 opens them in jail.
 
 214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 We owe to jail this slippery one who paints him- 
 self a slipperyish one, and does not falsify as well as filch. 
 
 It is important to observe that this is the man's his- 
 tory not after the events recorded in the novel, but be- 
 fore. His foundation, not his roof. On this autobiog- 
 rapher the benign influences of religion, the solidifying 
 effect of property, and the guardianship of a shrewd but 
 honest wife, have since been bestowed by heaven. 
 
 Add then this autobiography to his character as drawn 
 by me in the novel, and you possess the whole portrait ; 
 and now it will be for you to judge whether for once we 
 have taken a character that exists on a large scale in Na- 
 ture, and added it to Fiction, or, here too, have printed a 
 shadow, and called it a man. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 I DID nothing that I particularly remember until I was 
 fifteen, except learn my lessons, with now and then a 
 fight. I lived with my mother in Edinburgh. One day 
 a person of gentlemanly appearance met a band of us as 
 we were going to school, and inquired for me by name. 
 He took me aside into a tavern, and, after treating me, 
 revealed himself to me as my father. He also gave me 
 a crown, and promised to see me again ; but was unfor- 
 tunately prevented, or perhaps forgot. 
 
 My education being now considered complete, I went 
 to receive lessons in anatomy, at which I remained for 
 the space of nine months. 
 
 I now formed an acquaintance with a young lady. 
 (At this time I was staying with my godfather upon my 
 mother's decease.) But she was unfortunately a Roman- 
 ist, and on this account my godfather ordered me to leave 
 off her acquaintance, which I refusing, he ordered me out 
 of the house. I complied with his harsh mandate, but 
 first collecting (A.) all the money I could find, which 
 amounted to about 50, and with this I went to Dun-
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 215 
 
 ferraline, and from there to the Rumbling Brigg, where 
 I lodged with a couple well to do. I paid my board 
 while my money lasted ; but being now empty, and my 
 host finding I was a scholar, I agreed to give him three 
 lessons a day upon the sly, for which he privately con- 
 tracted to give me secretly the money to pay his wife 
 my board. 
 
 This lasted three months ; but one evening as we were 
 at our studies, and having neglected to lock the door, 
 being become too bold by past impunity, the wife, who 
 had discovered our retreat, having listened a moment or 
 two, burst suddenly in upon us, and falling (B.) on her 
 knees, exclaimed, 
 
 " Good heavens, am I married to a man who does not 
 know that three tunes five make fifteen ?" and burst into 
 a flood of tears and reproaches. 
 
 This was the line of the table he was unfortunately re- 
 peating to me at the time. 
 
 His wife's conduct raising a counter-excitement in my 
 pupil, and finding I had lighted a flame which would not 
 easily be extinguished, I thought proper to retire and go 
 back to Dunfermline. Here I learned my first trade of 
 the- many I have practiced. 
 
 I engaged myself to a master weaver and petty manu- 
 facturer. Besides learning to take drafts of patterns, 
 etc., I used to cast his accounts. But one day he sent 
 me to the bank to draw some money : on this I abscond- 
 ed with the money, and went to Edinburgh. 
 
 He pursued me so closely that, with the aid of the po- 
 lice, he apprehended me before I had time to spend it. 
 To avoid punishment, I gave him back the money all but 
 seventeen shillings, and he, who was a good-natured man, 
 wished me to go back to my place ; but, having borne a 
 good name in the place until then, I thought shame to go 
 back ; so I went to Newcastle after borrowing of my 
 (C.) late master 15s. for the journey. 
 
 At Newcastle I went into a chemist's shop for some
 
 216 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP A THIEF. 
 
 cough-lozenges. Now it happened that a woman in the 
 shop asked for some medicine. I forget just now what 
 it was, but the shop-boy took down the wrong ; he took 
 down a bottle containing chamomile, I remember that ; 
 so I told the boy that he mistook the Latin term. This 
 naturally attracted the master's attention, and he looked 
 up and saw I was correct ; so then he asked me several 
 questions, and finding me fit for his purpose, he took me 
 into his service, and here for a long while all my sorrows 
 were at an end, for I took a delight in studying my mas- 
 ter's interests, and laying up knowledge. 
 
 He favored me with his instructions, and I enjoyed at 
 times the company of his daughter, which was to me a 
 comfort above all, and with whom I felt myself soon 
 deep in love, and with her I spent many a happy hour 
 after the business of the day was over, walking out in 
 the evenings, while the moon with her bright and gentle 
 rays gave to all things a delightful appearance, and seem- 
 ed to lift up our minds to something above the groveling 
 cares of Time or we Iieard the plaintive notes of the 
 nightingale breaking the silence of the night, and calling 
 us to join him in his songs of praise to the God of Xature. 
 But sweeter still than the voice of the nightingale was 
 the voice of my companion, which was sweetest of all 
 when its topic (D.) would run to that portion which forms 
 the golden part of Cupid's dart. 
 
 In these innocent joys I spent four years. 
 
 But one unfortunate evening, having a drop too much 
 at the time, I met Miss B. as usual, and opportunity and 
 temptation unfortunately occurring, I was guilty of a 
 felony that has always remained on my conscience more 
 than any of those acts I have been guilty of, which the 
 law describes to be the highest crimes. 
 
 From that night our walks beneath e moon by the 
 river side were no longer innocent, ai we were no 
 longer happy. 
 
 Oh (E.) cursed night and place that robbed a virgin
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 217 
 
 of her purity ! and oh cursed Tyne, why did not thou 
 overflow thy banks and drive me away ? If now thy 
 fountain-spring was to pour out streams of flaming lava, 
 it would not purge the disgrace out of thy dark banks 
 nay, if thy banks themselves were to become gold, 
 they would not ransom the character lost on that night, 
 nor restore the rest and quiet that now fled from my 
 pillow. 
 
 Four months had scarce elapsed before I learned that 
 consequences of a serious kind were to be expected. 
 
 I was in great perplexity. At last, taking a desperate 
 course, I with much hesitation asked my master for his 
 daughter's hand. 
 
 My master, who, though a good-natured, was a hasty 
 man, turned black and red at the idea, but recovering 
 himself soon, he turned it off as a jest. I saw by this 
 that he would never consent, and, dreading discovery, I 
 got a friend of mine to write to me (F.) from Edinburgh 
 that my sister lay at the point of death, and begged to 
 see me. 
 
 Showing this letter to my master, I got leave of ab- 
 sence and a present for the journey, with which I start- 
 ed, promising to return in a week, but with no such in- 
 tention. 
 
 I arrived at Edinburgh, and found my sister, whom I 
 had spoken of as dying, just on the eve of marriage. I 
 was at the wedding, but the nuptial feast was no feast to 
 me, for it only recalled the thoughts of my own guilt. 
 
 I now began the world again. 
 
 I went to Stirling and obtained a situation with a 
 baker ; but the work was much too hard for me, so I 
 left him in two days, and took (A.) with me three pound 
 ten shillings ; was apprehended in Glasgow, and got six- 
 ty days. 
 
 On receiving my liberty I enlisted in her majesty's 
 service, and was marched on board the " Pique" frigate 
 bound for the West Indies. 
 
 K
 
 218 AUTOBIOGBAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 Here I remained until we got to Plymouth, where I 
 made my escape, but was retaken in the town, and 
 brought back to the ship and put in irons on the spar- 
 deck under cover of a tarpaulin : this was my prison till 
 we reached St. Vincent. We anchored here for two 
 days, and in the confusion of getting under-weigh again 
 I watched my opportunity, and having broken my pad- 
 lock the day before, I stole into the captain's cabin, he 
 being on deck, and took away a suit of his clothes, and 
 dropped into the water; and the weather being calm, 
 and I being an excellent swimmer, I swam alongside a 
 brigantine that lay at anchor in the bay, and hailing her 
 from the surface of the water, sang out, " Halloo ! are you 
 short of hands ?" 
 
 " We are," was the reply ; " where do you hail from ?" 
 
 " What has that to do with it ?" said I. So they haul- 
 ed me on board. 
 
 The master, finding I had been educated, sent me on 
 shore to his brother who kept a store ; and so now I was 
 his shopman. 
 
 I lived with my new master : we used to come to the 
 shop in the morning, and go home at night. We lived 
 a mile and a half out of the town in a pretty Gothic 
 house, which stood in the middle of a delightful garden 
 bordered by sugar-canes. In front of the house was an 
 avenue of orange and lemon trees mixed ; their branches 
 bent with the exuberance of the fruit ; and the ground 
 glittered with great shaddocks and limes, that lay like 
 lumps of gold, unheeded and rotting for abundance. The 
 air, too, was filled with the scent of thousands of rich 
 flowers that were scattered about, some by Nature, some 
 by the hand of man ; in short, it was an earthly paradise, 
 in which I might have ended my days if the demon of 
 change had not filled my mind with the desire to behold 
 once more my native country. Stupid fool ! 
 
 I set sail, and after a stormy passage reached the port 
 of London.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 219 
 
 I lodged in the Commercial Road till my money was 
 nearly gone, and then I became disconsolate. 
 
 Wandering one day in the Ratcliffe Highway, it was 
 my luck to fall in with an old acquaintance, whom I had 
 known through being-in trouble together. He intro- 
 duced me to a lodging-house-keeper in the neighborhood, 
 who, after a few words with my companion, told me " it 
 was all right ; we should find means of settling." 
 
 I went to bed, and when I wanted to get up my clothes 
 were stolen, with the few shillings I had left. Remon- 
 strating with the landlord, he said, " Oh, it is a mistake," 
 and disappearing for a few minutes, during which I heard 
 high words and a bit of a tussle, he returned with my 
 clothes and money. 
 
 The next day, seeing me very dull, and concluding by 
 that I was ripe for business, he inquired the cause of my 
 uneasiness. 
 
 I told him my last shilling was melting. 
 
 He laughed at this cause of trouble. 
 
 " You don't know," said he, " you are in the Mint." 
 
 "In the Mint?" said I. 
 
 " Yes," was his reply ; " in the Mint, my boy ;" and 
 with that he took up a chisel and went to the chimney, 
 and carefully removed a loose brick, and took out of the 
 gap a tin box. He opened the box, and coins of every 
 sort in profusion flashed upon my bewildered eyes ; and 
 not only corns, but dies and metal of all sorts for making 
 them. 
 
 " Now," said Crcesus, " having gone so far, you must 
 take the oath at once." 
 
 Four men and four females were then summoned, and, 
 standing in the middle of them, I took a solemn oath to 
 this effect : 
 
 "I hereby swear never to tell any one how to 
 make ' shoffle,' nor where I learned it, nor yet to use 
 any kind of language that may lead to the same, 
 upon pain of death."
 
 220 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 Here followed imprecations upon my eyes and limbs, if 
 broken, such as are used among freemasons, etc., but not 
 being fit for your reverence's ears, I suppress that part. 
 
 The next process was to go and change a base sov- 
 ereign, which I did accordingly, returning with nineteen 
 and sixpence, and of wliich sixpence went for the gin. 
 
 Behold me now a shoffle-pitcher. But it was never 
 my way to remain at the bottom of any business that I 
 found worth studying. I therefore, in the course of six 
 months, learned to coin first a shilling, then a sovereign, 
 then the most difficult of all, a crown ; and last of ah 1 , to 
 make the moulds for each of these corns ; and as soon as 
 I found I could make a mould for a crown, I dissolved 
 partnership, and went to Gravesend on my own bottom. 
 
 Your reverence will blame me less for this revolt if I 
 tell you the terms on which we worked with him whom 
 I have called Croesus, and his name did begin with a C. 
 
 He had the half of every coin we uttered ; he had the 
 cost of the metal besides, and the half of every article 
 purchased in the process of uttering. 
 
 Now this was not fair ; at least I think not, because 
 he did not share the risk. 
 
 I pitched on my own account about a month; then 
 finding the trade stale, and having once or twice narrow- 
 ly missed being apprehended, I returned to London and 
 betook myself to the diligent study of house-breaking. I 
 learned from a master how to make false keys ; and hav- 
 ing money by me, and courting the company of the best 
 cracksmen, and listening to all they said with respect and 
 attention, I attracted notice, and was made a member of 
 the body, and soon after permitted to take part in a job. 
 It was a doctor's shop in the Commercial Road, and my 
 share came to 50. And this was only the first of many 
 transactions of the kind. 
 
 And as it becomes every one that is in a business to 
 master it if possible, I will tell your reverence how I at- 
 tended to mine, trusting you will not make it generally
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 221 
 
 public, as it is not considered honorable among us to re- 
 veal the secrets of business, but only on account of your 
 goodness I am willing to put you on your guard, and 
 also your own friends that is to say, such of them as 
 have got any thing to lose ; but hope it will go no far- 
 ther than the jail. 
 
 Now, as the chief work of practitioners in our line is 
 to find out where the money or valuables are kept, this 
 was my plan : 
 
 If it was a shop, I should go in and buy something, 
 give the shopman a sovereign and notice where he put 
 it, and from whence he took the change, and at the same 
 time how the door was fastened, whether with a lock or 
 bar, or while my pal (for we always went in pairs) was en- 
 gaging the shopman, I would take the dimensions of the 
 same. 
 
 Or, if it was a dwelling-house, I would go and present 
 the mistress with a card stating I was a china or glass 
 mender, a French polisher, a teacher of music or dancing, 
 and try every move to get admittance into the parlor, 
 and then you may be sure my eyes were not shut. 
 
 Or else I would go and offer the servant some article 
 for sale as a hawker, and would chaff and flatter her, and 
 so perhaps get a notion where the plate was kept, and 
 the next week come and fetch it away. 
 
 In the course of a few weeks I had collected some- 
 where about one hundred pounds in money and valu- 
 ables, and finding the police had scent of me, I left Lon- 
 don and went down by the Leith smack to Edinburgh. 
 
 Here I visited my friends, and passed myself off in 
 their society for a thriving tradesman. 
 
 I also sent some money to Miss B. not that money 
 could repay the injury I had done her, but still it would 
 make her friends more civil to see that she wanted for 
 nothing. 
 
 If my real character had not got wind in Newcastle, I 
 think at this time they would have let me marry her, and
 
 222 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP A THIEF. 
 
 I think, bad as I am, I should have mended for her sake, 
 for she was the only woman I ever really loved. (G.) 
 
 It is an old saying, that " the money which comes by 
 the wind goes by the water." 
 
 I have made thousands, but never could keep so much 
 as a 5 note. 
 
 In about a month nearly all my money was melted, 
 and I set out on a cruise again. 
 
 Falling into some of my old haunts in Yorkshire I met 
 with a friend who manufactured base coin, and, having 
 passed a quantity of this and being now at my ease, I de- 
 termined to study a new profession. 
 
 I therefore secluded myself from ah 1 my idle compan- 
 ions, took a quiet lodging, bought several medical books, 
 and studied the human frame and the disorders to which 
 it is subject. 
 
 I studied night and day with the same diligence I had 
 given to coining, house-breaking, and my other profes- 
 sions. 
 
 In about a month I considered myself fit to start, 
 which I accordingly did with as much pomp as I could 
 command, having seen how far that goes toward success 
 in the learned professions. 
 
 I engaged a servant with a handsome livery to deliver 
 my bills at the most respectable doors, and attend upon 
 me when I addressed the public. 
 
 I had a thousand bills printed representing myself as 
 Dr. Scott from Edinburgh, and I furnished myself with 
 testimonials from respectable parties I mean that would 
 have been, but who, in point of fact, had no existence 
 and printed them at the foot of my bills. 
 
 My plan was, on entering a town, first to go for the 
 more respectable customers by putting up at a good inn, 
 making friends with the landlord, and sending my foot- 
 man round with my bills ; but before leaving I used to 
 appear in my true colors as an itinerant quack. 
 
 In this capacity I used to harangue the people and sell 
 my drugs.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 223 
 
 In ray public discourses I always ran down the regular 
 practitioner, as we are all obliged to do, and the plan I 
 used to follow was cool irony : I found this went farther 
 than pretending to get into a heat. 
 
 Unlike most quacks, I did not apply one or two reme- 
 dies to every disorder, and I met with wonderful success, 
 especially with the women ; partly, I think, because with 
 them imagination goes far, and my patter inspired them 
 with more confidence than the regular doctors could, not 
 having the gift of the gab. 
 
 "While traveling as a doctor I never would accept 
 money from any of my patients until the disease, what- 
 ever it might be, took a turn for the better ; and even 
 then my charges were always low ; but, to make up, I 
 did pass a deal of base coin wherever I traveled. 
 
 The following were some of my most remarkable cures : 
 
 The landlady of a public house at York of a dysentery. 
 
 At Wakefield I reduced an imposthume which the 
 proprietor was going to have cut if it had not been for 
 me. 
 
 At Hull I actually cured a respectable woman of a 
 cataract, and was praised in the public journals. 
 
 These and a hundred ordinary cures are the benefits I 
 rendered the public in return for the many wrongs I have 
 done it. 
 
 I had been practicing pharmacy some three months 
 when one day I received a letter from Newcastle. 
 
 It was from Miss B.'s uncle, telling me I might visit 
 her now. 
 
 The letter was very short, and there was something 
 about it I did not understand ; so that, instead of filling 
 me with delight, as such a letter would a while ago, I set 
 out for Newcastle flush of cash but full of perplexity. 
 
 I reached Newcastle, and, lest her friends should have 
 changed their mind again, and receive me with an affront, 
 I went to an ale-house convenient to her residence, and 
 sent for her younger brother, who had never been so 
 much against me as the others.
 
 224 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 He came directly, and I began to put a dozen questions 
 to him ; but he maintained silence ; he hung his head and 
 said, "Don't ask me you will soon know and since 
 you are here, come without loss of time ;" and he led the 
 way in gloomy silence. 
 
 I was taken into the house, and after some little delay 
 was allowed to go up into her room : I shall never for- 
 get it. 
 
 Her cheeks, that used to be like two roses, were now 
 pale and ghastly, and her beaming eyes were dull and 
 sunk in her head ; only her voice and her smile were as 
 sweet as ever. 
 
 Her first word was, "I have only waited for this." 
 Then she stretched out her hand, and thanked me in a 
 sweet and composed tone of voice " for coming to per- 
 form the last part of a husband's duty;" but here her 
 feelings overcame her, and the poor thing burst into a 
 flood of tears, and I fell on my knees, and sobbed and 
 cried with her ; and her relations somehow felt that they 
 were not to come between us any more now, and they 
 looked at one another and left the room without any 
 noise, and we were alone a little while. 
 
 And then I kneeled down again and prayed her to for- 
 give the injury I had done her person and character; 
 and then she answered like a woman that she was to 
 blame and not I ; and this answer from her, and she dy- 
 ing, went through me like a knife, and I prayed to die 
 for her, or at least die with her; and bursting into un- 
 manly and useless grief, and groveling in anguish and re- 
 morse upon the floor, some of them came in and interfered 
 for her sake, and very properly led me away and not in 
 an unkind manner, for which may God bless them any 
 way. 
 
 I hope your reverence may never feel as I did : I had 
 no acute sense of grief or pain bodily or mental pain 
 would have been a relief I felt dead my body seemed 
 dead, my heart seemed dead.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 225 
 
 I crawled to my inn, and crawled into bed, and lay 
 sleepless but motionless till daybreak. Then I rose and 
 went down to the river-side, and walked up and down, 
 and at about nine, when I thought the family would be 
 up, I went to the house. 
 
 The moment I came in sight of the house I saw all the 
 shutters were up. But it gave me scarcely any shock, 
 for I was stone, and I seemed to know before this that 
 all was over. 
 
 They wished me to see her, but I was unable then ; 
 but the day before she was buried I took a last look at 
 her : it did not seem to be her, but only some shell or 
 frame she had once inhabited now a ruinous heap of 
 corruption ; and that is an awful word. 
 
 Is it a castle ? there was a time when the heart of the 
 bold soldier burned with ardor to defend it. 
 
 Is it a senate? there was a time when the loud ap- 
 plause of eloquence thundered from its roof- 
 Or is it a temple ? there was a time when the white- 
 stoled priest called down the fire from heaven to bless 
 the sacrifice. 
 
 But here is a temple, one not made with hands, the 
 architecture of which is too sublime for our minds to con- 
 ceive, a temple that was erected to be the seat of its 
 Maker, one in which dwelt not only the image, but the 
 spirit of its Creator : let me ask, then, why was it thus 
 left desolate, and whither has its tenant gone ? 
 
 Tell me, ye seas, whose waves roll and ripple at our 
 feet or thunder on our vessels, tell me, have ye seen the 
 airy stranger float along your surface, and whither has it 
 winged its way ? 
 
 Tell me, ye winds, harpers of the mountain forest ; me- 
 thinks ye could, for there are times ye whisper gently, 
 and seem as if ye were holding communion with depart- 
 ed spirits ; tell me, have ye seen this airy stranger, and 
 whither has she gone ? Tell me, ye dazzling worlds, that 
 perform your regular but mystic dance upon the airy 
 
 K2
 
 226 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 surface ; tell me, have ye seen this airy stranger wing 
 her way through your aerial canopy, and whither has it 
 gone? 
 
 Such thoughts as these followed the first anguish at 
 losing her, and to all these inquiries one answer seemed 
 to come back to me from ah 1 Creation 
 
 "The body returns to the dust, and the soul to God 
 who gave it." 
 
 And when I compared this answer with my own con- 
 duct, I felt I was far behind ; arid over my sweetheart's 
 grave I vowed to amend my life, that one day I might 
 hope to meet her again. The first three days after the 
 funeral I tried in every direction for an honest situation. 
 
 The fourth I fell from all my good resolutions. 
 
 In my despair I had recourse to drink, and was un- 
 done. I was drunk for a whole week, and by the end of 
 that time was penniless. 
 
 Let mankind take warning by my fate, and not fancy 
 the habit of drink can be formed with safety. Up to 
 this time, though like all the world I had wasted a large 
 portion of my gains upon drink, yet I had never gone at 
 it like a madman. But what of that ? the habit was 
 formed; it was there waiting like a lion for its prey, 
 waiting for a great opportunity, your reverence. One 
 came : I was in despair ; my appetite was gone, and drink 
 comforted my stomach ; my heart was dead, and drink 
 made it beat. I had recourse to this solace, and became 
 a beast. As I said before, for a whole week I was never 
 not to say sober. 
 
 No man and no woman is safe that has once formed 
 the fatal habit of looking to drink for solace, or cheerful- 
 ness, or comfort. (H.) While the world goes well they 
 will likely be temperate ; but the habit is built, the rail- 
 road to destruction is cut ready for use, the trains are 
 laid down, and the station-houses erected, and the train 
 is on the line waiting only for the locomotive. Well, the 
 fjrst great trouble or hopeless grief is the locomotive : it
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 227 
 
 comes to us, it grapples us, and away we go in a moment 
 down the line we have been years constructing like a 
 flash of lightning to the devil. 
 
 I woke one afternoon sober and penniless. 
 
 From drunkenness to thieving is not a very wide leap 
 even to those who are beginning an evil career; to me 
 it was no more than crossing a gutter. I pawned my 
 watch, and got on board the steamer for London, and 
 back to my old haunts. 
 
 I soon fell hi with an old pal, and borrowed 10 of 
 him, and began first to pass and after that to com 
 " shofHe ;" and, when that was not quick work enough, 
 took to house-breaking and shop-lifting again. 
 
 But in the early part of this chapter of my career, 
 having very little cash, for part of the 10 went for 
 clothes, I was obliged to be moderate in my expenses, 
 and I accordingly spent a week in a lodging-house kept 
 by an old friend of mine, which I will try to describe. 
 
 The house itself is divided into two separate compart- 
 ments besides the bed-chambers. 
 
 The first or state apartment is for professional thieves. 
 
 The back room is for those street trades that lie be- 
 tween thieving and commerce. 
 
 My friend ushered me in here, and there were more 
 than a score of them all gazing with their mouths open 
 at the new-comer all engaged at various labors, and 
 talking a dozen different branches of cant. 
 
 Some were making mats some arranging articles for 
 sale in their baskets or on their trays some making 
 matches the "askers" selling their begged bread at 
 three halfpence the pound another tuning up his fiddle 
 the whole lot comparing notes to the detriment of the 
 public the beggar telling the match-maker at what 
 house they gave him meat or money the hawker and 
 mat-maker exchanging the same sort of profitable in- 
 formation, by which many an easy-going gentleman, that 
 thinks himself obscure, gets his habits published among
 
 228 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 the dregs of society, and perhaps a nickname tacked on 
 to him, and more people knowing him by it than know 
 him by his own. 
 
 Then there was the "buzzer" practicing his necro- 
 mancy. Presently in came a " sneaker" with half a fir- 
 kin of butter for sale at 4c?. per pound, on which the 
 women fell to abusing then* men because they had not 
 enough money to buy ten or twelve pounds ; children 
 crying, and all in a mighty way because the fountain is 
 not boiling. 
 
 In the corner was a handsome young female, evidently 
 a stranger, biting the end of her apron-string, her mind 
 not being able to comprehend the fullness of the scene. 
 
 " Here is a sweetheart for you and all," said my friend. 
 " She is waiting for her husband to come back," added 
 he, winking to me. 
 
 Her husband, as she called the man who had enticed 
 her from her friends, never came back, and, indeed, no- 
 body except herself ever thought he would. 
 
 Then, to amuse her mind, I requested her to go an 
 errand for me. She agreed. I gave her a base sovereign, 
 and sent her to buy groceries, which when she had done 
 I invited her to take tea with me, and over our tea she 
 told me her story without reserve. 
 
 Finding she was a decent girl, and apparently had 
 never made but this one slip, I determined to enter into 
 partnership with her, if she would consent. 
 
 Strange as it may appear, I felt the want of a female 
 companion now in a way I never had until Miss B.'s 
 death. I believe my nerves were shaken by that sad 
 event, and I began to want to see a woman's face oppo- 
 site me, and to hear the soft notes of a female voice. 
 
 Three days after our first meeting we were married 
 according to the custom of the house z. e., a traveler 
 dressed in a white sheet, with holes cut for his arms, read 
 a few sentences of the marriage service to us ; he then 
 drew a line on the floor with a piece of chalk, and made
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 229 
 
 us leap over it in succession while he recited in a solemn 
 voice the following : 
 
 "Leap, rogue ; and follow, jade 
 Man and wife for evermore," 
 
 which concluded the ceremony, and we were man and 
 wife in the eyes of all the lodgers, unless we should agree 
 to be untied, which could only be done by the same 
 party or his successor, and with other ceremonies, and, 
 above all fees ! We soon left this house and set up a 
 lodging of our own. She made me very comfortable 
 when I was at home, and I let her want for nothing. 
 
 I lived nearly three years in London this bout, and, 
 owing to the company I kept, I got the cockney phrase 
 and twang so that I fear I will never entirely get rid of 
 them. Indeed, I am commonly taken for a cockney, 
 which is a sad disgrace to a man born north of the 
 Tweed. (I.) 
 
 At the end of this time my wife's friends sent to beg 
 her to come home, which she asked my leave to do. I 
 consented, and we were untied, and parted with mutual 
 expressions of esteem. Finding London rather dull after 
 she was gone, I agreed to join a gang of us that were 
 about to make a provincial trip. 
 
 We went to Mortimer, a village in Berkshire. The 
 scene of our business was Reading and its neighborhood. 
 We committed some very daring robberies in Reading 
 and Caversham, that will not soon be forgotten. 
 
 We broke into one house in Reading in open day : it 
 
 was Sunday, and the whole family were gone to church. 
 
 We rifled the house, and left a paper on the table, on 
 
 which I am ashamed (J.) to tell your reverence I wrote 
 
 " Watch as well as pray ! !" 
 
 But this could not last forever. I had been out fishing 
 all day (a sport I am very fond of), when, returning to- 
 ward dusk, I saw a strange face at one of the windows 
 . of our house. 
 
 Not quite understanding this, I turned back and went
 
 230 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 a mile round, to where I could see the back of the 
 house without being recognized, and my caution was not 
 wasted. 
 
 I soon found that the house was hi the possession of 
 the police, and that ah 1 or most of my comrades were 
 nabbed. 
 
 Having some money about me, I decamped, and, re- 
 turning to town, found two of my companions about to 
 start for California, dazzled by the accounts we heard of 
 the fortunes made there by digging and levying the road- 
 side tax on those who dug. 
 
 I joined them, and after a voyage of six months we 
 landed at San Francisco. 
 
 Your reverence has often heard me talk of my adven- 
 tures in that country, and you have often forbade me to 
 be always thinking and talking about gold ; I will, there- 
 fore, abstain from relating my adventures in the New 
 World in fact, they would of themselves fill a volume. 
 Suffice it to say, I had at one time twelve hundred pounds 
 in money and gold-dust, but I wasted the greater part, 
 and by a just retribution was robbed of the rest. 
 
 I returned to London with 10 and a nugget, which I 
 sold for 25 in Threadneedle Street. 
 
 And now, not liking the smoke of London, after one 
 or two successful jobs, which swelled my stock to a mat- 
 ter of 60, 1 bought some new clothes and went down to 
 Reading, but, not thinking it prudent to remain there 
 long, crossed the river and went into Oxfordshire. 
 
 I heard of a farmer who sometimes took a lodger, and 
 as I was well dressed, and he too honest to be suspicious, 
 we soon came to terms. 
 
 The farmer was George Fielding, of whom your rev- 
 erence has often heard me speak. 
 
 I never met with such a character as his : he did not 
 seem to know any thing about lying, far less taking any 
 thing without paying for it. 
 
 When I first lodged with him I had, of course, an eye
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 231 
 
 to business, but I got so fond of him (K.) I could not 
 take any thing of his ; and he was attached to me too, 
 until one unlucky day he found out my real character, 
 and then he insulted me, and now he despises me. 
 
 I spent four innocent months here, and I often thought, 
 if I could have such an honest man as George Fielding 
 always close to my side all day, I could keep from taking 
 any thing all the rest of my life ; but, unluckily, my mon- 
 ey gradually melted, in which state I went to a fair in 
 the neighborhood. I saw a rich farmer take out some 
 notes and make a payment, and put the rest back into a 
 side-pocket : almost before it reached the bottom of his 
 pocket it was mine. 
 
 The country banks close at three o'clock, and it was 
 near four at the time ; I got rid, therefore, of the Bank 
 of England notes, meaning to change the others when a 
 good opportunity should occur. 
 
 But meantime I suppose measures were taken against 
 me ; any way, the police came down from London, and 
 I was seized, identified, and put to an open shame. 
 
 This, the last passage of my life, went nearer to drive 
 me to despair than all the rest ; for I had begun to taste 
 the sweets of innocence, and to love honesty under the 
 name of George Fielding. 
 
 I was convicted at the Assizes, and being recognized 
 as having been seven times in prison, and notoriously 
 guilty of many felonies besides, they sentenced me to 
 twelve months' imprisonment, and transportation for ten 
 years. 
 
 I have been six months in this jail, where I have met 
 with most cruel treatment, being forced to labor beyond 
 my strength even when weakened by sickness, and ptm- 
 ished for mere inability; and, besides the harm this 
 wrought my body, it hardened my heart, and made me 
 look on mankind as my enemy. 
 
 But, after that, your reverence was sent here by 
 Heaven to our relief.
 
 232 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 It was my good fortune to find in you a gentleman 
 whose heart was large enough to feel for all who suffer, 
 and whose understanding could comprehend that a con- 
 vict is a man, and this has been a godsend to me, and 
 may the Almighty bless you for all your goodness, and 
 above all for your constant battle to save us poor fel- 
 lows' souls, and, when you stand one day at the great tri- 
 bunal, may many a black sheep stand round you that the 
 world perhaps took for goats to the last ! 
 
 "Well, sir, when I look back upon my past life, of which 
 what I have written here is no more than a single page 
 out of volumes and volumes when I think of the many 
 opportunities I have had of doing good to myself and 
 others, and then think of how it ah 1 ends a convicted 
 felon, doomed to pass the remainder of my life in shame 
 and exile, debarred from situations where I could exe- 
 cute my talents, and felon printed upon me, I am whiles 
 tempted to put the gas-pipe that is in my cell into my 
 mouth, and suck the poisonous vapor into my lungs, and 
 thus with crime to end a life of crime. But then your 
 face rises up before me, and expostulates with a look, 
 and bids me be patient and hope ; also your words, that 
 I ought to be thankful to God for his mercy in giving 
 me time to reflect on the enormity of my crimes, and not 
 cutting me down as a cumberer of the ground. 
 
 But, above all, I feel it would be ungrateful to you and 
 grieve you if I was to make away with myself under 
 your eye, or even to despair. 
 
 I will try my best to be somebody yet, if only for your 
 reverence's sake ; for it is a shame a gentleman like you 
 should give his days and his nights, and all the blood in 
 his heart, to saving us poor fellows from perdition, and 
 be continuaUy disappointed. 
 
 So once more thanking your reverence for all kindness, 
 and for setting me to write this, which has amused and 
 whiled away some weary hours, and begging you to ex- 
 cuse all faults and blunders, for in my busy life writing
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 233 
 
 is an art I have had no time to give my mind to, I close 
 this record of the disgraceful past, and here in my cell, 
 envying the cripple round whom the free- air plays and 
 on whom the sun shines, I await the gloomy future. 
 
 Thomas * 
 
 alias Wilkinson, 
 alias Lyon, 
 alias M'Pherson, 
 alias Scott, 
 alias Howard, 
 alias Robinson. 
 
 A. " Collected" and " took with me." No such thing. 
 "Stole" is the word that represents the transactions. 
 Always be precise. Never tamper with words : call a 
 spade a spade, and a picklock a picklock ; that is the first 
 step toward digging instead of thieving. 
 
 B. She did not fall on her knees. You put that in for 
 stage effect, and it produces none, the gesture is so mani- 
 festly inappropriate. 
 
 C. And he lent it you. Pause a moment, and look at 
 yourself by the side of this honest (irascible ?) and mag- 
 nanimous honest man, whose hand a single paragraph of 
 yours made me long to grasp in mine. 
 
 D. " When its topic would run to that portion which 
 forms the golden part of Cupid's dart." This sentence 
 is rank nonsense. No more of this, or I shall fear I have 
 warmed a poetaster. 
 
 E. " Oh, cursed night and place, that robbed a virgin 
 of her purity ;" " and oh, cursed Tyne," that did not turn 
 policeman ; and oh, blessed Robinson, that was alone to 
 blame. Why, what bombast is this ? Always put the
 
 234 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF -A THIEF. 
 
 saddle on the right horse, and don't be so fond of curs- 
 ing: believe me, it is a bad habit. You cursed Mr. 
 Hawes, who needed all our prayers you cursed him hi 
 earnest ; and now you are off at a tangent, evading those 
 just expressions of serious self-reproach proper to the 
 situation, and cursing in jest the coaly Tyne, benefactor 
 of a province, and the night, a blessing wide as the world. 
 Bless, and curse not ! 
 
 F. The turning point of your life. Had you staid at 
 Newcastle and faced it out like a man, there would have 
 been a storm, I grant you : the old chemist would have 
 raved ; but Nature is strong ; for his daughter's sake he 
 would have ended by marrying you to her, and you 
 would be master of the shop now an honest citizen of 
 Newcastle ; but, though you had given up theft, you had 
 not forgotten how to lie. 
 
 Observe ! this is a new starting-point ; all the rest of 
 your life will be a consequence of that single falsehood ; 
 so now we shall see whether the Bible is wrong in its 
 hatred and terror of a lie. 
 
 G. You did not love her. Don't flatter yourself. If a 
 thief loved a woman, he would steal her ; if a five-pound 
 note had been as easy to filch from the old chemist as 
 this poor girl, I know who would have taken it, collected 
 it, removed it, abstracted it, and changed its relative 
 situation. You never loved her ; but I fear she loved you. 
 
 H. Real wisdom and observation in this remark. 
 
 I. Why is a twang worse than a brogue ? and why 
 should it disgrace the native of a small nation to be 
 taken for the native of a great nation? Is a sucker 
 nobler than its tree ? 
 
 J. " Ashamed ?" The little humbug could not resist 
 showing me his wit, of which lie says he is ashamed.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 235 
 
 K. That I can readily believe of you, and it is by your 
 affections we must try and save you, with God's help. 
 
 I sum up your career as Dr. Johnson did the " Beg- 
 gar's Opera." 
 
 " Here is a labefaction of all principle : 
 Many good impulses dug in sand. 
 Many good feelings unstable as water. 
 Many good resolves written in air. 
 
 But not the thousandth part of a gram of principle." 
 
 But how human your sad story is in every part ; yet 
 there are people who will dream that you and your fel- 
 lows are monsters, and prescribe monstrous remedies for 
 your souls. 
 
 I thank you for the general candor of your narrative ; 
 it renders my task a little easier. 
 
 I have many things to say to you seriously and sadly 
 about points in this story ; above all, I must show you 
 that you are not innocent of poor Miss B.'s death, whose 
 unhappy fate has made me very sad. My poor fellow, 
 you have not yet comprehended how much this poor 
 girl loved you, nor the variety of tortures she was en- 
 during all the while you were jaunting it at your ease 
 all over the world. These killed her. I will make you 
 see this, and repent far more deeply than you have done. 
 Half the cruelty in the world comes by want of intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 I must compliment you on your literary powers : this 
 is really an astonishing composition for a complete nov- 
 ice. I observe that toward the close of it, short as it is, 
 you have already become a better writer than you were 
 at starting your style more disengaged, fewer Sir Ab- 
 lative Absolutes, polysyllables, involved sentences, and 
 less ungraramatical eloquence. 
 
 If it will give you any pleasure to hear it, know that 
 in a pretty large experience of scholars, artists, lawyers, 
 and men of business, I never encountered a man with
 
 236 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 livelier and more versatile powers than yourself. You 
 ought to be leading the House of Commons ; and you 
 are here ! 
 
 I do not, however, admire most the passages on which 
 you probably pride yourself; for instance, the sublime 
 passage beginning " Is it a castle ?" 
 
 Here rhetoric intruded unseasonably upon feeling. 
 The plain narrative of your poor sweetheart's death-bed ; 
 of her telling you, woman -like, that she was more to 
 blame for being tempted than you for tempting her ; her 
 death and your remorse, moistened my eyes as I read, 
 but your sublime reflections dried them on the spot. 
 
 Your eloquence reminded me that you are a humbug, 
 and never really loved this poor girl : all the worse for 
 you. 
 
 You felt and feel remorse, and shall feel more, but 
 you never loved Miss B. ; do not flatter yourself. 
 
 It is hardly fair to dissect the sublime ; still permit 
 me, with due timidity and respect, to suggest that you 
 have taken similitudes and called them distinctions 
 contrasted where you should have compared. A mould- 
 ering castle, a mute senate-house, and a ruined temple 
 are not unlike, but like, an inanimate body. 
 
 What says the poet writing of a skull ? 
 
 "Can all that saint, sage, sophist, ever writ, 
 People this lonely hall, this tenement refit?" 
 
 In matters literary begin with logic; build on that 
 rhetoric or what ornaments you will. 
 
 In matters moral begin with a grain of sense and prin- 
 ciple, and on them raise the ingenuity and versatile tal- 
 ents of Mr. Thomas Robinson ! Thus you shall not sub- 
 limely stumble in letters, nor in conduct be an ingenious, 
 able, versatile, gifted, clever blockhead and fool. 
 
 You called the nightingale " him." 
 
 This shocks an innocent prejudice. 
 
 In science, it is to be feared, there are cock nightin-
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 237 
 
 gales. But you were favoring us with a poetic touch, 
 and in poetry nightingales are ah 1 hens. 
 
 Remind me some day to tell you the story of Philo- 
 mele. 
 
 Your closing sentences are sad, and would make me 
 as sad or sadder if I saw your real mind in them ; but 
 this is only a temporary despondency, the effect of sep- 
 arate confinement, which is beginning to tell on you, spite 
 of all we can do. 
 
 I shall get your sentence shortened, and you will soon 
 cross the water ; so you see there is nothing to despond 
 about. Your prospects were never so bright. You are 
 now master of one craft, and well advanced in others ; 
 you are at no man's mercy ; your own hands avail to 
 feed, and keep, and clothe you. Be honest, and you will 
 always be well off. Consecrate your talents to God's 
 service, and you will most likely be happy even in this 
 world. And for the short time you have to remain in 
 confinement, we will find you all the occupation and 
 amusement the law permits ; and if you ever feel great- 
 ly depressed, ring that moment for Evans or me, and we 
 will chase the foul fiend away. 
 
 So cheer up, and don't fancy you are alone, when by 
 putting out your hand you can bring an honest fellow to 
 your side who pities you, and me who love you. 
 
 F. E.
 
 238 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 PRISON THOUGHTS. 
 
 Caged in a prison cell, how sad, yet true, 
 
 Does the lone heart bring former scenes to view, 
 
 Till the racked mind with bitter phrensy driven, 
 
 Maligns the just decrees of man and heaven. 
 
 The grated bars, and iron-studded door, 
 
 The cold bare walls, and chilly pavement floor, 
 
 The hammock, table, stool, and pious book, 
 
 The jailer's stealthy tread and jealous look, 
 
 Force back the maddened thoughts to other days, 
 
 When joyous youth was crowned with hopeful bays; 
 
 E'er rank luxuriant folly reigned supreme, 
 
 As if this life was nothing but a dream, 
 
 Or the dire cup had seared the unblighted heart, 
 
 And caused all holy feelings to depart 
 
 E'er each sweet hour, so innocently gay, 
 
 Passed like a mellow summer's eve away. 
 
 Cursed be the hour when first I turned astray 
 
 From keeping sacred God's own hallowed day 
 
 When first I learned to sip the poisoned bowl, 
 
 That kills the body and corrupts the soul. 
 
 'Twas then my godly lessons, one by one, 
 
 Fled from my giddy heart till all were gone, 
 
 And left behind a waste and dreary wild, 
 
 A conscience hardened, and a soul defiled. 
 
 Oh ! when I think on what I've been, and see 
 
 My present state, and think what I may be, 
 
 Despair and horror burns and boils within 
 
 For years of folly and continued sin, 
 
 Until my brain seems bursting with the dread 
 
 Of Heaven's just judgments falling on my head. 
 
 No baneful passions fired my tranquil mind, 
 
 No wild, unruly thoughts ranged unconfined, 
 
 But all was fan-, and gladsome as the grove, 
 
 Where warbling songsters live in artless love. 
 
 How changed my lot ! No sister, mother, sire, 
 
 Now fondly sit around the wintry fire ; 
 
 No household song beguiles the lengthened night, 
 
 No homely jest creates a fond delight,
 
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 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 241 
 
 No Sabbath morning sees us now engage. 
 In rapt attention on the holy page, 
 Or hears the swelling notes of praise and prayer 
 Borne on the breeze, and floating on the air. 
 Oh ! could my parents' shades but bend on earth, 
 They'd mourn like me the morning of my birth. 
 Almighty Father ! God of Life and Death ! 
 Give, oh ! give me a true and living faith. 
 Bestow Thy quickening Spirit, and impart 
 Thy saving Grace to tranquilize my heart, 
 That I may better live for time to come, 
 And rear my spirit for Thy heavenly home. 
 L
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 
 
 THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL. 
 
 A Sermon preached in the Chapel of * Jail, on Sunday, 9th January, 1849, 
 from Matthew 5th and ITth, by the Kev. Francis Eden, and versified 
 
 BY ONE OF THE PRISONERS. 
 
 'Mid rolling clouds of fearful smoke, 
 'Mid lightning's flash and thunder's roar, 
 
 'Mid loud continued sounds, which shook 
 The startled earth from shore to shore, 
 
 'Mid volumes of devouring flame, 
 
 Unseen, yet felt, the Almighty came. 
 
 Lo ! on Mount Sinai's giddy height 
 
 Is reared Jehovah's awful throne, 
 Pregnant with Heaven's ethereal light, 
 
 Too glorious to be gazed upon, 
 While beams of dazzling brightness bound 
 The circuit of the hallowed ground. 
 
 Hark ! as the appalling voice of God 
 
 Proclaims the law of Life and Death, 
 Nature, o'erburdened with the load, 
 
 Holds hard her almost fleeting breath, 
 While sunless heaven and darkened air 
 Are hung with blackness of despair. 
 
 Offspring of Gentile and of Jew, 
 
 Descendants of a common stock, 
 These great eternal laws for you 
 
 Were thundered from Mount Sinai's rock ; 
 And ill or good on him shall fall 
 Who breaks but one, or keeps them all. 
 
 But oh ! weak man can ne'er obey 
 Laws with such fearful justice fraught, 
 
 For every moment of the day 
 
 He sins in word, or deed, or thought. 
 
 The Law of Death would thus enslave him, 
 
 Did not a pardoning Gospel save him. 
 
 From Calvary's hill a stream proceeds, 
 Whose cleansing merits all may share, 
 
 Ay, even although their guilt exceeds 
 The weight of what the earth can bear.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A THIEF. 243 
 
 For Christ's atoning blood can clean 
 A hell-deserving world from sin. 
 
 No lightning's flash, no scowling sky, 
 No trembling mount of smoke and flame, 
 
 No crashing thunder boomed from high 
 When our Great Mediator came ; 
 
 But seraph's sounds announced to earth 
 
 Glad tidings of a Savior's birth. 
 
 No chosen consecrated priest, 
 
 No heaps of slain or seas of blood, 
 Nor solemn fast, nor stated feast, 
 
 Can now appease a jealous God, 
 Or open up a fount of grace 
 To Adam's unregenerate race. 
 
 An humble heart, a lowly mind, 
 
 A contrite and believing soul, 
 Where Truth and Mercy are enshrined 
 
 Beyond a sinful world's control, 
 Is all the God of heaven will claim 
 From those who own Immanuel's name. 
 
 How goodly are the steps of those 
 
 Who walk in humbleness of heart, 
 And with well-grounded hopes have chose 
 
 The Gospel's sure and better part. 
 To such the law of works is dead, 
 Through faith in Christ, their living head. 
 
 But as Jehovah's dread decree 
 
 Does with a Savior's love unite, 
 So let our faith and works agree, 
 
 In one continued bond of light ; 
 For faith and works, if used alone, 
 Can ne'er for guilty deeds atone. 
 
 Then fly, ye sinners, to the Cross, 
 
 There let your eager hopes be bound, 
 Count all things else but dung and dross 
 
 To win Christ, and in him be found ; 
 So shall your Christian race be bless'd 
 With Heaven's prepared eternal rest. 
 
 * Jail, 3d Feby., 1849. 
 Prisoner's name THOMAS ROBINSON.
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 % JUatter-of-Jact Homana.
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES, 
 
 31 ittatter-of-fact Bomcmc*. 
 
 THERE are nobs in the world, and there are snobs. 
 
 I regret to say I belong to the latter department. 
 
 There are men that roll through life, like a fire new 
 red ball going across Mr. Lord's cricket-ground on a sun- 
 shiny day ; there is another sort that have to rough it in 
 general, and, above all, to fight tooth and nail for the 
 quartern-loaf, and not always win the battle. I am one 
 of this lot. 
 
 One comfort, folk are beginning to take an interest in 
 us. I see nobs of the first water looking with a fatherly 
 eye into our affairs our leaden taxes and feather in- 
 comes ; our fifteen per cent, on undeniable security when 
 the rich pay but three and a half; our privations and 
 vexations ; our dirt and distresses ; and one day a literary 
 gent, that knows my horrible story, assured me that my 
 ups and downs would entertain the nobility, gentry, and 
 commonalty of these realms. 
 
 " Instead of grumbling to me," says he, " print your 
 troubles, and I promise you all the world will read them, 
 and laugh at them." 
 
 " No doubt, sir," said I, rather ironical ; " all the world 
 is at leisure for that." 
 
 " Why, look at the signs of the times," says he ; " can't 
 you see workmen are up ? so take us while we are in the 
 humor, and that is now. We shall not always be for 
 squeezing honey out of weeds, shall we ?" " Not likely, 
 sir," says I. Says he, " How nice it will be to growl
 
 248 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 wholesale to a hundred thousand of your countrymen 
 (which they do love a bit of a growl), instead of growl- 
 ing retail to a small family that has got hardened to 
 you !" And there he had me ; for I am an Englishman, 
 and proud of it, and attached to ah 1 the national habits 
 except delirium tremens. In short, what with him in- 
 flaming my dormant conceit, and me thinking, " Well, I 
 can but say my say, and then relapse into befitting si- 
 lence," I did one day lay down the gauge and take up 
 the pen, in spite of my wife's sorrowful looks. 
 
 She says nothing, but you may see she does not believe 
 hi the new tool, and that is cheerful and inspiriting to a 
 beginner. 
 
 However, there is a something that gives me more 
 confidence than all my literary friend says about " work- 
 men being up in the literary world," and that is that I 
 am not the hero of my own story. 
 
 Small as I sit here behind my wife's crockery and my 
 own fiddles, in this thundering hole, Wardour Street, I 
 was for many years connected with one of the most cele- 
 brated females of modern tunes. Her adventures run 
 side by side with mine. She is the bit of romance that 
 colors my humble life, and my safest excuse for intruding 
 on the public. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FATHER and mother lived in King Street, Soho : he 
 was a fiddle-maker, and taught me the A B C of that sci- 
 ence at odd times ; for I had a regular education, and 
 a very good one, at a school in West Street. This part 
 of my life was as smooth as glass. My troubles did not 
 begin till I was thirteen : at that age my mother died, 
 and then I found out what she had been to me : that was 
 the first and the worst grief; the next I thought bad 
 enough: Coming in from school one day, about nine
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 249 
 
 months after her death, I found a woman sitting by the 
 fire opposite father. 
 
 I came to a stand in the middle of the floor, with two 
 eyes like saucers, staring at the pair ; so my father intro- 
 duced me. 
 
 " This is your new mother. Anne, this is John !" 
 
 " Come and kiss me, John," says the lady. Instead 
 of which John stood stock still, and burst out roaring 
 and crying without the least leaving off staring, which to 
 be sure was a cheerful, encouraging reception for a lady 
 just come into the family. I roared pretty hard for about 
 ten seconds, then stopped dead short, and says I, with a 
 sudden calm, the more awful for the storm that had 
 raged before, " I'll go and tell Mr. Paley !" and out I 
 marched. 
 
 Mr. Paley was a little hump-backed tailor, with the 
 heart of a dove and the spirit of a lion or two. I made 
 his acquaintance through pitching into two boys that 
 were queering his protuberances all down Princes Street, 
 Soho ; a kind of low humor he detested ; and he had taken 
 quite a fancy to me. We were hand and glove, the old 
 man and me. 
 
 I ran to Paley and told him what had befallen upon 
 the house. He was not struck all of a heap, as I thought 
 he would be ; and he showed me it was legal, of which 
 I had not an idea ; and his advice was, " Put a good face 
 on it, or the house will soon be too hot to hold you, boy." 
 
 He was right. I don't know whether it was my fault 
 or hers, or both's, but we could never mix. I had seen 
 another face by that fireside, and heard another voice in 
 the house, that seemed to me a deal more melodious than 
 hers, and the house did become hotter, and the inmates' 
 looks colder than agreeable : so one day I asked my fa- 
 ther to settle me in some other house not less than a 
 mile from King Street, Soho. He and stepmother jump- 
 ed at the offer, and apprenticed me to Mr. Dawes. Here 
 I learned more mysteries of guitar-making, violin-making, 
 L2
 
 250 JACK OP ALL TKADES. 
 
 etc., etc., and lived in tolerable comfort nearly four years : 
 there was a ripple on the water, though. My master had 
 a brother, a thickset, heavy fellow, that used to bully my 
 master, especially when he was groggy, and less able to 
 take his own part. My master being a good fellow, I 
 used to side with him, and this brought me a skinful of 
 sore bones more than once, I can tell you. But one night, 
 after some months of peace, I heard a terrible scrimmage, 
 and, running down into the shop-parlor, I found Dawes 
 junior pegging into Dawes senior no allowance, and him 
 crying blue murder. 
 
 I was now an able-bodied youth between sixteen and 
 seventeen years of age, and, having a little score of my 
 own with the attacking party, I opened quite silent and 
 business-like with a one, two, and knocked him into a 
 corner flat perpendicular. He was dumbfoundered for a 
 moment, but the next he came out like a bull at me. I 
 stepped on one side, and met him with a blow on the 
 side of the temple, and knocked him flat horizontal ; and 
 when he offered to rise, I shook my fist at him, and 
 threatened him he should come to grief if he dared to 
 move. 
 
 At this time he went on quite a different lay. He lay 
 still, and feigned dissolution with considerable skill, to 
 frighten us; and I can't say I felt easy at all; but my 
 master, who took cheerful views of every thing in his 
 cups, got the enemy's tumbler of brandy and water, and 
 with hiccoughs and absurd smiles, and a tea-spoon, depos- 
 ited the contents gradually on the various parts of his 
 body. 
 , " Lez revive 'm !" said he. 
 
 This was low life to come to pass in a respectable 
 tradesman's back parlor. But, when grog comes in at 
 the door, good manners walk to the window, ready to 
 take leave if requested. Where there is drink there is 
 always degradation of some sort or degree : put that in 
 your tumblers and sip it !
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 251 
 
 After this no more battles. The lowly apprentice's 
 humble efforts (pugilistic) restored peace to his master's 
 family. 
 
 Six months of calm industry now rolled over, and then 
 I got into trouble by my own fault. 
 
 Looking back upon the various fancies, and opinions, 
 and crotchets that have passed through my head at one 
 time or another, I find that, between the years of seven- 
 teen and twenty-four, a strange notion beset me ; it was 
 this : that women are all angels. 
 
 For this chimera I now began to suffer, and continued 
 to at intervals till the error was rooted out with their 
 assistance. 
 
 There were two women in my master's house his 
 sister, aged twenty-four, and his cook, aged thirty-seven. 
 With both these I fell ardently hi love ; and so, with my 
 sentiments, I should have with six, had the house held 
 half a dozen. Unluckily, my affections were not accom- 
 panied with the discretion so ticklish a situation called 
 for. The ladies found one another out, and I fell a victim 
 to the virtuous indignation that fired three bosoms. 
 
 The cook, in virtuous indignation that an apprentice 
 should woo his master's sister, told my master. 
 
 The young lady, in virtuous indig. that a boy should 
 make a fool of " that old woman," told my master, who, 
 unluckily for me, was now the quondam Dawes junior ; 
 Dawes senior having retired from the active business, 
 and turned sleeping and drinking partner. 
 
 My master, whose v. i. was the strongest of the three, 
 since it was him I had leathered, took me to Bow Street, 
 made his complaint, and forced me to cancel my indent- 
 ures ; the cook, with tears, packed up my Sunday suit ; 
 the young lady opened her bedroom door three inches, 
 and shut it with a don't-come-anigh-me slam ; and I drift- 
 ed out to London with eighteen pence and my tools. 
 
 On looking back on this incident of my life, I have a 
 regret a poignant one ; it is, that some good Christian
 
 252 JACK OF AiL TRADES. 
 
 . 
 
 did not give me a devilish good hiding into the bai'gain 
 then and there. 
 
 I did not feel quite strong enough in the spirits to go 
 where I was sure to be blown up, so I skirted King Street 
 and entered the Seven Dials, and went to Mr. Paley and 
 confessed my sins. 
 
 How differently the same thing is seen by different 
 eyes ! All the morning I had been called a young vil- 
 lain, first by one, then by another, till at last I began to 
 see it. Mr. Paley viewed me in the light of martyr, and 
 I remember I fell into his views on the spot. 
 
 Paley was a man that had his little theory about wom- 
 en, and it differed from my juvenile one. 
 
 He held that women are at bottom the seducers, men 
 the seduced. " The men court the women, I grant you, 
 but so it is the fish that rims after the bait," said he. 
 " The women draw back ? yes, and so does the angler 
 draw back the bait when the fish are shy, don't he ? and 
 then the silly gudgeons misunderstand the move, and 
 make a rush at it, and get hooked like you." 
 
 Holding such vile sentiments, he shifted all the blame 
 off my shoulders. He turned to and abused the whole 
 gang, as he called the family in Litchfield Street I had 
 just left, instead of reading me the lesson for the day, 
 which he ought, and I should have listened to from him 
 perhaps. 
 
 " Now, then, don't hang your head like that," shouted 
 the spunky little fellow, " sniveling and whimpering at 
 your time of life ! We are going to have a jolly good 
 supper, you and I, that is what we are going to do ; and 
 you shall sleep here. My daughter is at school ; you 
 shall have her room. I am in good work thirty shil- 
 lings a week that is plenty for three, Lucy and you and 
 me" (himself last). "Your father isn't worth a bone 
 button, and your mother isn't worth the shank to it ; I'm 
 your father, and your mother into the' bargain, for want 
 of a better. You live with me, and snap your fingers at
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 253 
 
 Dawes and all his crew ha ! ha ! a fine loss, to be sure. 
 The boy is a fool cooks, and coquettes, and fiddle- 
 t outers, rubbish not worth picking up out of a gutter 
 they be d d." 
 
 And so I was installed in Miss Paley's apartment, Seven 
 Dials ; and nothing would have made my adopted parent 
 happier than for me to put my hands in my pockets, and 
 live upon goose and cabbage. But downright laziness 
 was never my character. I went round to all the fiddle- 
 shops, and offered, as bold as brass, to make a violin, a 
 tenor or a bass, and bring it home. Most of them look- 
 ed shy at me, for it was necessary to trust me with the 
 wood, and to lendjne one or two of the higher class of 
 tools, such as a turning-saw and a jointing-plane. 
 
 At last I came to Mr. Dodd, in Berners Street. Here 
 my father's name stood me in stead. Mr. Dodd risked 
 his wood and the needful tools, and in eight days I 
 brought him, with conceit and trepidation mixed in 
 equal part, a violin, which I had sometimes feared would 
 frighten him, and sometimes hoped would charm him. 
 He took it up, gave it one twirl round, satisfied himself 
 it was a fiddle, good, bad, or indifferent, put it in the 
 window along with the rest, and paid for it as he would 
 for a penny roll. I timidly proposed to make another for 
 him ; he grunted a consent, which it did not seem to me 
 a rapturous one. 
 
 Mr. Metzler also ventured to give me work of this 
 kind. For some months I wrought hard all day, and 
 amused myself with my companions all the evening, se- 
 lecting my pals from the following classes : small actors, 
 showmen, pedestrians, and clever discontented mechanics ; 
 one lot I never would have at any price, and that was 
 the stupid ones, that could only booze, and could not tell 
 me any thing I did not know about pleasure, business, 
 and life. 
 
 This was a bright existence; so it came to a full 
 stop.
 
 JACK OF ALL TBADES. 
 
 At one and the same time Miss Paley came home, and 
 the fiddle-trade took one of those chills all fancy trades 
 are subject to. 
 
 No work no lodging without paying for it no 
 wherewithal. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 JOHN BEABD, a friend of mine, was a painter and 
 grainer. His art was to imitate oak, maple, walnut, sat- 
 in-wood, etc., etc., upon vulgar deal, beach, or what not. 
 
 This business works thus : first a coat of oil-color is 
 put on with a brush, and this color imitates what may be 
 called the background of the wood that is aimed at ; on 
 this oil-background the champ, the fibre, the grain and 
 figure, and all the incidents of the superior wood, are imi- 
 tated by various manoeuvres in water-colors, or, rather, 
 in beer-colors, for beer is the approved medium. A coat 
 of varnish over all gives a look of unity to the work. 
 
 Beard was out of employ; so was I bitter against 
 London; so was I. He sounded me about trying the 
 country, and I agreed ; and this was the first step of my 
 many travels. 
 
 We started the next day he with his brushes, and a 
 few colors, and one or two thin panels painted by way 
 of advertisement, and I with hope, inexperience, and 
 threepence. On the road we spent this and his five- 
 pence, and entered the town of Brentford toward night- 
 fall as empty as drums and as hungry as wolves. 
 
 What was to be done? After a long discussion, we 
 agreed to go to the mayor of the town and tell him our 
 case, and ofier to paint his street door in the morning if 
 he would save our lives for the night. 
 
 We went to the mayor ; luckily for us, he had risen 
 from nothing, as we were going to do, and so he knew 
 exactly what we meant when we looked up in his face
 
 JACK OF ALL TEADE8. 255 
 
 and laid our hands on our sausage-grinders. He gave us 
 eighteen pence and an order on a lodging-house, and put 
 bounds to our gratitude by making us promise to let his 
 street door alone. We thanked him from our hearts, 
 supped and went to bed, and agreed the country (as we 
 two cockneys called Brentford) was chock full of good 
 fellows. 
 
 The next day up early in the morning, and away to 
 Hounslow. Here Beard sought work all through the 
 town, and just when we were in despair he got one door. 
 We dined and slept on this door, but we could not sup 
 off it ; we had twopence over, though, for the morning, 
 and walked on a penny roll each to Maidenhead. 
 
 Here, as we entered the town, we passed a little house 
 with the door painted oak, and a brass plate announcing 
 a plumber and glazier, and house-painter. Beard pulled 
 up before this door in sorrowful contempt. " Now look 
 here, John," says he, " here is a fellow living among the 
 woods, and you would swear he never saw an oak plank 
 in his life to look at his work." 
 
 Before so very long we came to another specimen : 
 this was maple, and farther from Nature than a lawyer 
 from heaven, as the saying is. " There, that will do," 
 says Beard. " I'll tell you what it is, we must try a dif- 
 ferent move ; it is no use looking for work ; folks will 
 only employ their own tradesmen ; we must teach the 
 professors of the art at so much a. panel." 
 
 " Will they stomach that ?" said I. 
 
 " I think they will, as we are strangers and from Lon- 
 don. You go and see whether there is a fiddle to be 
 doctored in the town, and meet me again in the market- 
 place at twelve o'clock." 
 
 I did meet him, and forlorn enough I was. My trade 
 had broke down in Maidenhead ; not a job of any sort. 
 
 "Come to the public house!" was his first word. 
 That sounded well, I thought. 
 
 We sat down to bread and cheese and beer, and he 
 told his tale.
 
 256 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 It seems he went into a shop, told the master he was 
 a painter and grainer from a great establishment in Lon- 
 don, and was in the habit of traveling and instructing 
 provincial artists in the business. The man was a pomp- 
 ous sort of a customer, and told Beard he knew the busi- 
 ness as well as he did, better belike. 
 
 Beard answered, "Then you are the only one here 
 that does ; for I've been all through the town, and any 
 thing wider from the mark than their oak and maple I 
 never saw." Then he quietly took down his panels and 
 spread them out, and, looking out sharp, he noticed a 
 sudden change come over the man's face. 
 
 "Well," says the man, "we reckon ourselves pretty 
 good at it in this town. However, I shouldn't mind see- 
 ing how you London chaps do it : what do you charge 
 for a specimen ?" 
 
 "My charge is two shillings a panel. What wood 
 should you like to gain a notion of?" said Beard, as dry 
 as a chip. 
 
 " Well satin-wood." 
 
 Beard painted a panel of satin-wood before his eyes, 
 and, of course, it was done with great ease, and on a bet- 
 ter system than had reached Maidenhead up to that time. 
 " Now," says Beard, " I must go to dinner." 
 
 " Well, come back again, my lad," says the man, " and 
 we will go in for something else." So Beard took his 
 two shillings and met me as aforesaid. 
 
 After dinner he asked for a private room. "A private 
 room," said I ; " hadn't you better order our horse and 
 gig out, and go and call on the rector ?" 
 
 " None of your chaff," says he. 
 
 When we got into the room he opened the business. 
 
 " Your trade is no good ; you must take to mine." 
 
 " What ! teach painters how to paint, when I don't 
 know a stroke myself!" 
 
 " Why not ? You've only got it to learn ; they have got 
 to unlearn all they know; that is the only long process
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 257 
 
 about it. I'll teach you in five minutes," says he : " look 
 here." He then imitated oak before me, and made me 
 do it. He corrected my first attempt ; the second satis- 
 fied him : we then went on to maple, and so through all 
 the woods he could mimic. He then returned to his 
 customer, and I hunted in another part of the town, and 
 before nightfall I actually gave three lessons to two pro- 
 fessors: it is amazing, but true, that I, who had been 
 learning ten minutes, taught men who had been all their 
 lives at it in the country. 
 
 One was so pleased with his tutor that he .gave me a 
 pint of beer besides my fee. I thought he was poking 
 fun when he first offered it me. 
 
 Beard and I met again triumphant. We had a rous- 
 ing supper and a good bed, and the next day started for 
 Henley, where we both did a small stroke of business, 
 and on to Reading for the night. 
 
 Our goal was Bristol. Beard had friends there. But 
 r.s we zigzagged for the sake of the towns, we were three 
 weeks walking to that cityj but we reached it at last, 
 having disseminated the science of graining in many 
 cities, and got good clothes and money in return. 
 
 At Bristol we parted. He found regular employment 
 the first day, and I visited the fiddle-shops and offered 
 ray services. At most I was refused ; at one or two I 
 got trifling jobs ; but at last I went to the right one. 
 The master agreed with me for piece-work on a large 
 scale, and the terms were such that by working quick 
 and very steady I could make about twenty-five shillings 
 a week. At this I kept two years, and might have lon- 
 ger, no doubt but my employer's niece came to live 
 with him. 
 
 She was a woman ; and my theory being in full career 
 at this date, mutual ardor followed, and I asked her hand 
 of her uncle, and instead of that he gave me what the 
 Turkish ladies get fof the same offense the sack. Oft* 
 to London again, and the money I had saved by my in-
 
 258 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 dustry just landed me in the Seven Dials and sixpence 
 over. 
 
 I went to Paley, crestfallen as usual. He heard my 
 story, complimented me on my energy, industry, and 
 talent, regretted the existence of woman, and inveighed 
 against her character and results. 
 
 We went that evening to private theatricals in Ber- 
 wick Street, and there I fell in with an acquaintance in 
 the fire- work line. On hearing my case, he told me I had 
 just fallen from the skies in time ; his employer wanted 
 a fresh hand. 
 
 The very next day behold me grinding, and sifting, 
 and ramming powder at Somers Town, and at it ten 
 months. 
 
 My evenings, when I was not undoing my own work 
 to show its brilliancy, were often spent in private the- 
 atricals. 
 
 I hear a" row made just now about a dramatic school. 
 " We have no dramatic schools," is the cry. Well, in 
 the day I speak of there were several ; why, I belonged 
 to two. We never brought to light an actor, but we 
 succeeded so far as to ruin more than one lad who had 
 brains enough to make a tradesman, till we heated those 
 brains and they boiled all away. 
 
 The way we destroyed youth was this : of course, no- 
 body would pay a shilling at the door to see us running 
 wild among Shakspeare's lines like pigs broken into a 
 garden, so the expenses fell upon the actors, and they 
 paid according to the value of the part each played. 
 Richard the Third cost a puppy two pounds ; Richmond, 
 fifteen shillings ; and so on ; so that with us, as in the 
 big world, dignity went by wealth, not merit. I re- 
 member this made me sore at the time ; still, there are 
 two sides to every thing : they say poverty urges men 
 to crime ; mine saved me from it. If I could have af- 
 forded, I would have murdered one or two characters 
 that have lived with good reputation from Qiieen Bess
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 259 
 
 to Queen Victoria; but as I couldn't afford it, others 
 that could did it for me. 
 
 Well, in return for his cash, Richard, or Hamlet, or 
 Othello commanded tickets in proportion ; for the tickets 
 were only gratuitous to the spectators. 
 
 Consequently, at night, each important actor played 
 not only to a most merciful audience, but a large band 
 of devoted friendly spirits in it, who came, not to judge 
 him, but express to carry him through triumphant like 
 an election. Now when a vain, ignorant chap hears a 
 lot of hands clapping, he has not the sense to say to him- 
 self " paid for !" No, it is applause, and applause stamps 
 his own secret opinion of himself. He was off his bal- 
 ance before, and now he tumbles heel over tip into the 
 notion that he is a genius ; throws his commercial pros- 
 pects after the two pounds that went in Richard or Bev- 
 erley, and crosses Waterloo Bridge spouting, 
 
 "A fico for the shop and poplins base ! 
 Counter, avaunt ! I on his southern bank 
 Will fire the Thames." 
 
 Noodle, thus singing, goes over the water. But they 
 won't have him at the Surrey or the Vic., so he takes to 
 the country ; and, while his money lasts, and he can pay 
 the mismanager of a small theatre, he gets leave to play 
 with Richard and Hamlet. But when the money is gone, 
 and he wants to be paid for Richard & Co., they laugh 
 at him, and put him hi his right place, and that is a util- 
 ity, and perhaps ends a " super. ;" when, if he had not 
 been a coxcomb, he might have sold ribbon like a man 
 to his dying day. 
 
 We and our dramatic schools ruined more than one or 
 two of this sort by means of his vanity in my young days. 
 
 My poverty saved me. The conceit was here hi vast 
 abundance, but not the funds to intoxicate myself with 
 such choice liquors as Hamlet & Co. Nothing above 
 old Gobbo (five shillings) ever fell to my lot and by my 
 talent.
 
 260 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 
 
 When I had made and let off fire-works for a few 
 months, I thought I could make more as a rocket-master 
 than a rocket-man. I had saved a pound or two. ' Most 
 of my friends dissuaded me from the attempt ; but Paley 
 said, " Let him alone now ; don't keep him down ; he is 
 born to rise. I'll risk a pound on him." So by dint of 
 several small loans, I got the materials and made a set 
 of fire-works myself, and agreed with the keeper of some 
 tea-gardens at Hampstead for the spot. 
 
 At the appointed time, attended by a trusty band of 
 friends, I put them up ; and, when I had taken a tolerable 
 sum at the door, I let them all off. 
 
 But they did not all profit by the permission. Some 
 went, but others, whose supposed destination was the 
 sky, soared about as high as a house, then returned and 
 forgot their wild nature, and performed the office of our 
 household fires upon the clothes of my visitors ; and some 
 faithful spirits, like old domestics, would not leave their 
 master at any price would not take their discharge. 
 Then there was a row, and I should have been mauled, 
 but my guards rallied round me and brought me off 
 with whole bones, and marched back to London with 
 me, quizzing me and drinking at my expense. The pub- 
 lican refused to give me my promised fee, and my loss 
 by ambition was twenty-eight shillings and my reputa- 
 tion if you could call that a loss. 
 
 Was not I quizzed up and down the Seven Dials! 
 Paley alone contrived to stand out in my favor. " Non- 
 sense ! a first attempt," said he ; " they mostly fail. 
 Don't you give in for those fools ! I'll tell you a story. 
 There was a chap in prison I forget his name. He 
 lived in the old times a few hundred years ago. I can't 
 justly say how many. He had failed at something or 
 other I don't know how many times, and there he was. 
 Well, Jack, one day he notices a spider climbing up a 
 thundering great slippery stone in the wall. She got a 
 little way, then down she fell ; up again, and tries it on
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 261 
 
 again ; down again. Ah ! says the man, you will never 
 do it. But the spider was game. She got six falls, but, 
 by George, the seventh trial she got up. So the gentle- 
 man says 'a man ought to have as much heart as a 
 spider : I won't give hi till the seventh trial.' Bless you, 
 long before the seventh he carried all before him, and 
 got to be King of England or something." 
 
 " King of England !" said I ; " that was a move up- 
 ward out of the stone jug." 
 
 "Well," said Paley the hopeful, "you can't be King 
 of England, but you may be the fire-king he ! he ! if 
 you are true to powder. How much money do you want 
 to try again ?" 
 
 I was nettled at my failure, and, fired by Paley and 
 his spider, I scraped together a few pounds once more, 
 and advertised a display of fire-works for a certain Mon- 
 day night. 
 
 On the Sunday afternoon Paley and I happened to 
 walk on the Hampstead Road, and near the Adam and 
 Eve we fell in with an announcement of fire-works. On 
 the bill appeared hi enormous letters the following : 
 
 " No CONNECTION WITH THE DISGRACEFUL EXHIBITION 
 THAT TOOK PLACE LAST FRIDAY WEEK ! !" 
 
 Paley was hi a towering passion. " Look here, John," 
 says he ; " but never you mind ; it won't be here long, 
 for I'll tear it down in about half a moment." 
 
 " No, you must not do that," said I, a h'ttle nervous. 
 
 " Why not, you poor-spirited muff?" shouts the little 
 fellow : " let me alone let me get at it what are you 
 holding me for ?" 
 
 "No! no! no! Well, then " 
 
 "Well, then, what?" 
 
 " Well, then, it is mine." 
 
 " What is yours ?" 
 
 " That advertisement." 
 
 " How can it be yours, when it insults you ?" 
 
 " Oh ! business before vanity."
 
 262 JACK OF ALL TEADE8. 
 
 " Well, I am blessed ! Here's a go. Look here, now ;" 
 and he began to split his sides laughing ; but all of a 
 sudden he turned awful grave : " You will rise, my lad ; 
 this is genuine talent ; they might as well try to keep a 
 balloon down." In short, my friend, who was as honest 
 as the day in his own sayings and doings, admired this 
 bit of rascality in me, and augured the happiest results. 
 
 That district of London which is called the Seven 
 Dials was now divided into two great parties ; one au- 
 gured for me a brilliant success next day, the other a 
 dead failure. The latter party numbered many names 
 unknown to fame, the former consisted of Paley. I was 
 neuter, distrusting, not my merits, but what I called my 
 luck. 
 
 On Monday afternoon I was busy putting out the fire- 
 works, nailing them to their posts, etc. Toward even- 
 ing it began to rain so heavily that they had to be taken 
 in, and the whole thing given up: it was postponed to 
 Thursday. 
 
 On Thursday night we had a good assembly ; the sum 
 taken at the doors exceeded my expectation. I had my 
 misgivings on account of the rain that had fallen on my 
 kickshaws Monday evening, so I began with those arti- 
 cles I had taken in first out of the rain. They went off 
 splendidly, and my personal friends were astounded ; but 
 soon my poverty began to tell. Instead of having many 
 hands to save the fire-works from wet, I had been alone, 
 and of course much time had been lost in getting them 
 under cover. We began now to , get among the damp 
 lot, and science was lost in chance ; some would and some 
 wouldn't, and the people began to goose me. 
 
 A rocket or two that fizzled themselves out without 
 rising a foot inflamed their angry passions; so I an- 
 nounced two fiery pigeons. 
 
 The fiery pigeon is a pretty fire-work enough. It is of 
 the nature of a rocket, but, being on a string, it travels 
 backward and forward between two termini, to which
 
 JACK OF ALL TBADES. 263 
 
 the string is fixed. When there are two strings and 
 two pigeons, the fiery wings race one another across the 
 ground, and charm the gazing throng. One of my ter- 
 mini was a tree at the extremity of the gardens. Up 
 this tree I mounted in my shirt sleeves with my birds. 
 The people surrounded the tree, and were dead silent. 
 I could see their final verdict and my fate hung on these 
 pigeons. I placed them, and with a beating heart light- 
 ed their matches. To my horror, one did not move. I 
 might as well have tried to explode green sticks. The 
 other started and went off with great resolution and ac- 
 companying cheers toward the opposite side. But mid- 
 way it suddenly stopped, and the cheers with it. It did 
 not come to an end all at once, but the fire oozed gradu- 
 ally out of it like water. A howl of derision was hurled 
 up into the tree at me ; but, worse than that, looking 
 down, I saw in the moonlight a hundred stern faces, 
 with eyes like red-hot emeralds, in which I read my fate. 
 They were waiting for me to come down, like terriers 
 for a rat in a trap, and I felt by the look of them that 
 they would kill me, or near it. I crept along a bough, 
 the end of which cleared the wall and overhung the road. 
 I determined to break my neck sooner than fall into the 
 hands of an insulted public. An impatient orange whiz- 
 zed by my ear, and an apple knocked my hat out of the 
 premises. I crouched and clung; luckily, I was on an 
 ash-bough, long, tapering, and tough ; it bent with me 
 like a rainbow. A stick or two now whizzed past my 
 ear, and it began to hail fruit. I held on like grim death 
 till the road was within six feet of me, and then dropped 
 and ran off home, like a dog with a kettle at his tail. 
 Meantime a rush was made to the gate to cut me off; 
 but it was too late. The garden meandered, and my 
 executioners, when they got to the outside, saw nothing 
 but a flitting spectre me in my shirt sleeves making for 
 the Seven Dials. 
 
 Mr. and Miss Paley were seated by their fire, and, as I
 
 264 JACK OP AT.T. TRADES. 
 
 afterward learned, Paley was recommending her to me 
 for a husband, and explaining to her at some length why 
 I was sure to rise in the world, when a figure in shirt 
 sleeves, begrimed with gunpowder, and no hat, burst 
 into the room, and shrank without a word into the 
 corner by the fire. 
 
 Miss Paley looked up, and then began to look down 
 and snigger. Her father stared at me, and after a while 
 I could see him set his teeth and nerve his obstinate old 
 heart for the coming struggle. 
 
 " Well, how did it happen ?" said he, at last. " Where 
 is your coat ?" 
 
 I told him the whole story. 
 
 Miss Paley had her hand to her mouth all the time, 
 afraid to give vent to the feelings proper to the occasion 
 because of her father. 
 
 " Now answer me one question. Have you got their 
 money ?" says Paley. 
 
 " Yes, I have got their money, for that matter." 
 
 " Well, then, what need you care ? You are all right ; 
 and if they had gone off they would have been ah* over 
 by now, just the same. He wants his supper, Lucy. 
 Give us something hot, to make us forget our squibs 
 and crackers, or we shall die of a broken heart, all us 
 poor fainting souls. Such a calamity ! The rain wetted 
 them through that is all ; you couldn't fight against the 
 elements, could you ? Lay the cloth, girl." 
 
 " But, Mr. Paley," whined I, " they have got my new 
 coat, and you may be sure they have torn it limb from 
 jacket." 
 
 " Have they ?" cried he ; " well, that is a comfort, any- 
 way. Your new coat, eh ? Lucy, it hung on the boy's 
 back like an old sack. Do you see this bit of cloth ? I 
 shall make you a Sunday coat with this, and then you'll 
 sell. Fetch a quart to-night, girl, instead of a pint : the 
 fire-king is going to do us the honor. Che-er up ! !"
 
 JACK OF AM. TItAPKs. 265 
 
 CHAPTER m. 
 
 IT was now time that Miss Paley should suffer the 
 penalty of her sex. She was a comely, good-humored, 
 and sensible girl. We used often to walk out together 
 on Sundays, and very friendly we were. I used to tell 
 her she was the flower of her sex, and she used to laugh 
 at that. One Sunday I spoke more plainly, and laid my 
 heart, my thirteen shillings, the fruit of my last imposture 
 on the public, and my various arts, at her feet, out walk- 
 ing. 
 
 A proposal of this sort, if I may trust the stories I read, 
 produces thrilling effects. If agreeable, the ladies either 
 refuse in order to torment themselves, which act of virtue 
 justifies them, they think, in tormenting the man they 
 love, or else they show their rapturous assent by burst- 
 ing out crying, or by fainting away, or their lips turning 
 cold, and other signs proper to a disordered stomach ; if 
 it is to be " no," they are almost as much cut up rbout 
 it, and say no like yes, which has the happy result of 
 leaving him hope and prolonging his pain. Miss Paley 
 did quite different. She blushed a little, and smiled 
 archly and said, " Now, John, you and I are good friends, 
 and I like you very much, and I will walk with you and 
 laugh with you as much as you like ; but I have been 
 engaged these two years to Charles Hook, and I love 
 him, John." 
 
 " Do you, Lucy ?" 
 
 " Yes," under her breath a bit. 
 
 " Oh !" 
 
 " So, if we are to be friends, you must not put that 
 question to me again, John. What do you say ? we are 
 to be friends, are we not?" and she put out her hand. 
 
 " Yes, Lucy." 
 
 M
 
 266 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 
 
 " And, John, you need not go for to tell my father ; 
 what is the use vexing him ? He has got a notion, but 
 it will pass away in time." 
 
 I consented, of course, and Lucy and I were friends. 
 
 Mr. Paley somehow suspected which way his daugh- 
 ter's heart turned, and not long after a neighbor told me 
 he heard him quizzing her unmerciful for her bad judg- 
 ment. As for harshness or tyranny, that was not under 
 his skin, as the saying is. He wound up with telling her 
 that John was a man safe to rise. 
 
 " I hope he may, father, I am sure," says Lucy. 
 
 " "Well, and can't you see he is the man for you ?" 
 
 " No, father, I can't see that he ! he !" 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 I DON'T think I have been penniless not a dozen times 
 in my life. When I get down to twopence or threepence, 
 which is very frequent indeed, something is apt to turn 
 up and raise me to silver once more, and there I stick. 
 But about this time I lay out of work a long time, and 
 was reduced to the lowest ebb. In this condition, a 
 friend of mine took me to the " Harp," in Little Russell 
 Street, to meet Mr. Webb, the manager of a strolling 
 company. Mr. Webb was beating London for recruits 
 to complete his company which lay at Bishops Stortford, 
 but which, owing to desertions, was not numerous enough 
 to massacre five-act plays. I instantly offered to go as 
 carpenter and scene-shifter. To this he demurred: he 
 was provided with them already ; he wanted actors. To 
 this I objected, not that I cared to what sort of work I 
 turned my hand, but in these companies a carpenter is 
 paid for his day's work according to his agreement, but 
 the actors are remunerated by a share in the night's 
 profits, and the profits are often written in the following 
 figures Os. Oct.
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 267 
 
 However, Mr. Webb was firm ; he had no carpenter's 
 place to offer me, so I was obliged to lower my preten- 
 sions. I agreed then to be an actor. I was cast as 
 Father Philip, in the " Iron Chest," next evening, my 
 share of the profits to be one eighth. I borrowed a shil- 
 ling, and my friend Johnstone and I walked all the way 
 to Bishops Stortford. We played the " Iron Chest" and 
 divided the profits. Hitherto I had been in the mechan- 
 ical arts ; this was my first step .into the fine ones. Fa- 
 ther Philip's share of the " Chest" was 2%d. 
 
 Now this might be a just remuneration for the per- 
 formance ; I almost think it was ; but it left the walk, 
 thirty miles, not accounted for. 
 
 The next night I was cast in " Jerry Sneak." I had 
 no objection to the part, only, under existing circum- 
 stances, the place to play it seemed to me to be the road 
 to London, not the boards of Bishops Stortford ; so I 
 sneaked off toward the Seven Dials. Johnstone, though 
 cast for the hero, was of Jerry's mind, and sneaked away 
 along with him. 
 
 We had made but twelve miles when the manager and 
 a constable came up with us. Those were peremptory 
 days ; they offered us our choice of the fine arts again, 
 or prison. After a natural hesitation, we chose the arts, 
 and were driven back to them like sheep. Night's prof- 
 its 5d. In the morning the whole company dissolved 
 away like a snowball. Johnstone and I had a meagre 
 breakfast, and walked on it twenty-six miles. He was a 
 stout fellow shone in brigands he encouraged and 
 helped me along ; but at last I could go no farther. 
 
 My slighter frame was quite worn out with hunger and 
 fatigue. " Leave me," I said ; " perhaps some charitable 
 hand will aid me, and if not, why then I shall die ; and I 
 don't care if I do, for I have lost all hope." 
 
 " Nonsense," cried the fine fellow. " I'll carry you 
 home on my back sooner than leave you. Die ? that is 
 a word a man should never say. Come ! courage ! only 
 four miles more."
 
 268 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 No. I could not move from the spot. I was what I 
 believe seldom really happens to any man, dead beat 
 body and soul. 
 
 I sank down on a heap of stones. Johnstone sat down 
 beside me. 
 
 The sun was just setting. It was a bad look-out 
 starving people to lie out on stones all night. A man 
 can stand cold, and he can fight with hunger ; but put 
 those two together, and life is soon exhausted. 
 
 At last a rumble was heard, and presently an empty 
 coal-wagon came up. A coal-heaver sat on the shaft, 
 and another walked by the side. Johnstone went to 
 meet them ; they stopped ; I saw him pointing to' me, 
 and talking earnestly. 
 
 The men came up to me ; they took hold of me, and 
 shot me into the cart like a hundred weight of coal. 
 " Why, he is starving with cold," said one of them, and 
 he flung half a dozen empty sacks over me, and on we 
 went. At the first public the wagon stopped, and soon 
 one of my new friends, with a cheerful voice, brought a 
 pewter flagon of porter to me. I sipped it. " Don't be 
 afraid of it," cried he ; " down with it ; it is meat and 
 drink, that is." And, indeed, so I found it. It was a 
 heavenly solid liquid to me ; it was " stout" by name and 
 " stout" by nature. 
 
 These good fellows, whom men do right to call black 
 diamonds, carried me safe into the Strand, and thence, 
 being now quite my own man again, I reached the Seven 
 Dials. Paley was in bed. He came down directly in 
 his night-gown, and lighted a fire, and pulled a piece of 
 cold beef out of the cupboard, and cheered me as usual, 
 but in a fatherly way this time ; and of course, at my 
 age, I was soon all right again, and going to take the 
 world by storm to-morrow morning. He left me for a 
 while and went up stairs. Presently he came down 
 again. 
 
 " Your bed is ready, John."
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 269 
 
 " Why," said I, " you have not three rooms." 
 
 " Lucy is on a visit," said he ; then he paused. " Stop 
 a bit ; I'll warm your bed." 
 
 He took me up stairs to my old room and warmed the 
 bed. I, like a thoughtless young fool, rolled into it, half 
 gone with sleep, and never woke till ten next morning. 
 
 I don't know what the reader will think of me when I 
 tell him that the old man had turned Lucy out of her 
 room into his own, and sat all night by the fire that I 
 might lie soft after my troubles. Ah ! he was a bit of 
 steel. And have you left me, and can I share no more 
 sorrow or joy with you in this world? Eh! dear, it 
 makes me misty to think of the old man after all these 
 years. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I USED often to repair and doctor a violin for a gent 
 whom I shall call Chaplin. He played in the orchestra 
 of the Adelphi Theatre. Mr. Chaplin was not only a 
 customer, but a friend. He saw how badly off I was, 
 and had a great desire to serve me. Now it so happen- 
 ed that Mr. Yates, the manager, was going to give an en- 
 tertainment he called his " At Homes," and this took but 
 a small orchestra, of which Mr. Chaplin was to be the 
 leader; so he was allowed to engage the other instru- 
 ments, and he actually proposed to me to be a second 
 violin. 
 
 I stared at him. " How can I do that ?" 
 
 " "Why, I often hear you try a violin." 
 
 " Yes, and I always play the same notes ; perhaps you 
 have observed that too ?" 
 
 " I notice it is always a slow movement eh ? Never 
 mind, this is the only thing I can think of to serve you ; 
 you must strum out something ; it will be a good thing 
 for you, you know."
 
 270 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 " Well," said I, " if Mr. Yates will promise to sing 
 nothing faster than ' Je-ru-sa-lem, my hap-py home,' I'll 
 accompany him." 
 
 No, he would not be laughed out of it ; he was determ- 
 ined to put money in my pocket, and would take no de- 
 nial. "Next Monday you will have the goodness to 
 meet me at the theatre at six o'clock with your fiddle. 
 Play how you like, play inaudible for what I care ; but 
 play and draw your weekly salary you must and shall." 
 
 " Play inaudible" these words sunk to the very bot- 
 tom of me " play inaudible." 
 
 I fell into a brown study: it lasted three days and 
 three nights ; finally, to my good patron's great content, 
 I consented to come up to the scratch, and Monday night 
 I had the hardihood to present myself in the music-room 
 of the Adelphi. My violin was a ringing one. I tuned 
 up the loudest of them all, and Mr. Chaplin's eye rested 
 on me with an approving glance. 
 
 Time was called. We played an overture, and accom- 
 panied Mr. Yates in his recitatives and songs, and per- 
 formed pieces and airs between the acts, etc. The lead- 
 er's eye often fell on me, and when it did, he saw the 
 most conscientious workman of the crew plowing every 
 note with singular care and diligence. 
 
 In this same little orchestra was James Bates, another 
 favorite of Mr. Chaplin, and an experienced fiddler. 
 
 This young man was a great chum of mine. He was 
 a fine, honest young fellow, but of rather a satanine tem- 
 per. He was not movable to mirth at any price. He 
 would play without a smile to a new pantomime stuck 
 there all night, like Solomon cut in black marble with a 
 white choker, as solemn as a tomb, with hundreds laugh- 
 ing all around. 
 
 Once or twice while we were at work I saw Mr. Chap- 
 lin look at Bates, knowing we two were chums, and when- 
 ever he did it seems the young one bit his lips and turn- 
 ed as red as a beet-root. After the lights were out Mr.
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 271 
 
 Chaplin congratulated me before Bates. "There, you 
 see, it is not so very hard ; why, hang me if you did not 
 saw away as well as the best ! ! !" At these words Bates 
 gave a sort of yell and ran home. Mr. Chaplin looked 
 after him with surprise. " There's some devil's delight 
 up between you two," said he. " I shall find it out." 
 
 Next night in the tuning-room my fiddle was so resin- 
 ant it attracted attention, and one or two asked leave to 
 try it. " Why not ?" said I. 
 
 During work Mr. Chaplin had one eye on me and one 
 on Bates, and caught the perspiration running down my 
 face, and him simpering for the first time in the history 
 of the Adelphi. 
 
 " What has come over Jem Bates ?" said Mr. Chaplin 
 to me ; " the lad is all changed. You have put some of 
 your late gunpowder into him; there is something up 
 between you two." After the play he got us together, 
 and he looked Bates in the face, and just said to him 
 "Eh?" 
 
 At this wholesale interrogatory Bates laid hold of him- 
 self tight. " No, Mr. Chaplin, sir, I can't ; it will kill me 
 when it does come out of me." 
 
 " When what comes out ? You young rascals, if you 
 don't both of you tell me, I'll break my fiddle over Bates, 
 and Jack shall mend it free of expense gratis for noth- 
 ing, that is how I'll serve mutineers ; come, out with it." 
 
 " Tell him, John," said Bates, demurely. 
 
 " No," said I, " tell him yourself, if you think it will 
 gratify him." I had my doubts. 
 
 " Well," said Bates, " it is ungrateful to keep you out 
 of it, sir, so he ! he ! I'll tell you, sir this second vio- 
 lin has two bows in his violin-case." 
 
 " Well, stupid, what is commoner than that for a fid- 
 dler?" 
 
 "But this is not a fiddler," squeaked Bates; "he's 
 only a bower. Oh ! oh ! oh !" 
 
 "Only a bower?"
 
 272 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 "No! Oh! Oh! I shall die; it will kill me." I 
 gave a sort of ghastly grin myself. 
 
 " You unconscionable scoundrels !" shouted Mr. Chap- 
 mi ; " there, look at this Bates ; he is at it again ; a fel- 
 low that the very clown could never raise a laugh out of, 
 and now I see him all night smirking, and grinning, and 
 looking down like a jackdaw that has got his claw on a 
 thimble. If you don't speak out, I'll knock your two 
 tormenting skulls together till they roll off down the gut- 
 ter side by side, chuckling and giggling all day and all 
 night." At this direful mysterious threat Bates composed 
 himself. " The power is all out of my body, sir, so now 
 I can tell you." 
 
 He then in faint tones gave this explanation, which my 
 guilty looks confirmed. " One of his bows is resined, 
 sir that one is the tuner. I don't know whether you 
 have observed, but he tunes rather louder than any two 
 of us. Oh dear, it is coming again." 
 
 " Don't be a fool, now. Yes, I have noticed that." 
 
 "The other bow, Mr. Chaplin, sir, the other bow is 
 soaped well soaped, sir, for orchestral use. Ugh ! ugh !" 
 
 " Oh, the varmint !" 
 
 Bates continued. " You take a look at him you see 
 him fingering and bowing like mad but as for sound, 
 you know what a greasy bow is ?" 
 
 " Of course I do. I don't wonder at your laughing 
 ha ! ha ! ha ! Oh, the thief when I think of his diligent 
 face, and him shaking his right wrist like Viotti." 
 
 " Mind your pockets, though ; he knows too much." 
 
 It was now my turn to speak. " I am glad you like 
 the idea, sir," said I, " for it comes from you." 
 
 " How can you say that ?" 
 
 " What did you tell me to do ?" 
 
 " I didn't tell you to do that. I don't remember what 
 I told him, Bates not to the letter." 
 
 " Told me to play inaudible ! ! !" 
 
 " Well, I never," said Mr. Chaplin.
 
 JACK OP ALL TRADES. 273 
 
 " Those were your words, sir ; they did not fall to the 
 ground, you see." 
 
 My position in this orchestra, and the situations that 
 arose out of it, were meat and drink to my two friends. 
 With the gentry, whose lives are a succession of amuse- 
 ments, a joke soon wears out, no doubt ; but we poor fel- 
 lows can't let one go cheap. How do we know how 
 long it may be before Heaven sends us another? A 
 joke falling among us is like a rat in a kennel of terriers. 
 
 At intricate passages the first violin used to look at 
 the tenor, and then at me, and wink, and they both swell- 
 ed with innocent enjoyment, till at last unknown powers 
 of gayety budded in Bates. With quizzing his friend he 
 learned to take a jest, so much so that one night Mr. 
 Yates being funnier than usual if possible, a single horse- 
 laugh suddenly exploded among the fiddles. This was 
 Bates gone off all in a moment after his trigger being 
 pulled so many years to no purpose. Mr. Yates looked 
 down with gratified surprise. 
 
 " Halloo ! Brains got in the orchestra ; after that, any 
 thing !" 
 
 But do you think it was fun to me all this ? I declare 
 I suffered the torture of the you know what. I never 
 felt safe a moment. I had placed myself next to an old 
 fiddler who was deaf, but he somehow smelt at tunes 
 that I was shirking, and then he used to cry, " Pull out, 
 pull out ; you don't pull out." 
 
 " How can you say so ?" I used to reply, and then saw 
 away like mad; when, so connected are the senses of - 
 sight and hearing apparently, the old fellow used to smile 
 and be at peace. He saw me pull, and so he heard me 
 pull out. Then sometimes friends of the other perform* 
 ers would be in the orchestra, and peep over me, and say 
 civil things, and I wish them farther, civilities and all. 
 But it is a fact that for two months I gesticulated in that 
 orchestra without a soul finding out that I was not suit- 
 ing the note to the action. 
 
 M2
 
 274 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 At last we broke up, to my great relief, but I did not 
 leave the theatre. Mr. "Widger, Mr. Yates's dresser, got 
 me a place behind the scenes at nine shillings per week. 
 
 I used to dress Mr. Reeve, and run for his brandies 
 and waters, which kept me on the trot, and do odd jobs. 
 
 But I was now to make the acquaintance that colored 
 all my life, or the cream of it. My time was come to 
 move in a wider circle of men and things, and really to 
 do what so many fancy they have done to see the world. 
 
 In the month of April, 1828, Mr. Yates, theatrical man- 
 ager, found his nightly receipts fall below his nightly ex- 
 penses. In this situation, a manager falls upon one of 
 two things a spectacle or a star. Mr. Yates preferred 
 the latter, and went over to Paris and engaged Mademoi- 
 selle Djek. 
 
 MademoiseUe Djek was an elephant of great size and 
 unparalleled sagacity. She had been for some time per- 
 forming in a play at Franconi's, and created a great sensa- 
 tion in Paris. 
 
 Of her previous history little is known. But she was 
 first landed from the East in England, and was shown 
 about merely as an elephant by her proprietor, an Italian 
 called Polito. The Frenchmen first found out her talent. 
 Her present owner was a M. Huguet, and with him Mr. 
 Yates treated. She joined the Adelphi company at a 
 salary of 40 a week and her grub. 
 
 There was great expectation in the theatre for some 
 days. The play in which she was to perform, " The 
 Elephant of the King of Siam," was cast and rehearsed 
 several times ; a wooden house was built for her at the 
 back of the stage, and one fine afternoon, sure enough, 
 she arrived with all her tram, one or two of each nation, 
 viz., her owner, M. Huguet (French) ; her principal keep- 
 er, Tom Elliot (English); her subordinates Bernard, 
 (French), and an Italian nicknamed Pippin. She arrived 
 at the stage door in Maiden Lane, and soon after the 
 messenger was sent to Mr. Yates's house.
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 275 
 
 " Elephant's come, sir." 
 
 " Well, let them put her in the place built for her, and 
 I'll come and see her." 
 
 " They can't do that, sir." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " La ! bless you, sir, she might get her foot into the 
 theatre, but how is her body to conje through the stage 
 door ? Why, she is almost as big as the house." 
 
 Down comes Mr. Yates, and there was the elephant 
 standing all across Maiden Lane all traffic interrupted 
 except what could pass under her belly and such a 
 crowd my eye ! 
 
 Mr. Yates put his hands in his pockets and took a quiet 
 look at the state of affairs. 
 
 " You must make a hole in the wall," said he. 
 
 Pickaxes went to work, and made a hole, or rather a 
 frightful chasm in the theatre, and when it looked about 
 two thirds her size Elliot said " Stop !" He then gave 
 her a sharp order, and the first specimen we saw of her 
 cleverness was her doubling herself together and creep- 
 ing in through that hole, bending her fore knees, and 
 afterward rising and dragging her hind legs horizontally, 
 and she disappeared like an enormous mole burro wing 
 into the theatre. 
 
 Mademoiselle Djek's bills were posted all over the 
 town, and every thing done to make her take, and on the 
 following Tuesday the theatre was pretty well filled by 
 the public ; the manager also took care to have a strong 
 party in the pit. In short, she was nursed as other stars 
 are upon their debut. 
 
 Night came ; all was anxiety behind the lights and 
 expectation in front. 
 
 The green curtain drew up, and Mr. Yates walked on 
 hi black dress-coat and white kid gloves, like a private 
 gentleman just landed out of a bandbox at the Queen's 
 ball. He was the boy to talk to the public : soft sawder 
 dignified reproach friendly intercourse he had them
 
 276 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 all at his fingers' ends. This time it was the easy tone 
 of refined conversation upon the intelligent creature he 
 was privileged to introduce to them. I remember his 
 discourse as well as if it was yesterday. 
 
 " The elephant," said Mr. Yates, " is a marvel of Na- 
 ture. We are now to have the pleasure of showing her 
 to you as taking her place in art." Then he praised the 
 wisdom and beneficence of creation. " Among the small 
 animals, such as cats and men, there is to be found such 
 a thing as spite ; treachery ditto, and love of mischief, 
 and even cruelty at odd times ; but here is a creature 
 with the power to pull down our houses about our ears 
 like Samson, but a heart that will not let her hurt a fly. 
 Properly to appreciate her moral character, consider what 
 a thing power is ; see how it tries us how often in his- 
 tory it has turned men to demons. The elephant," add- 
 ed he, " is the friend of man by choice, not by necessity 
 or instinct ; it is born as wild as a lion or buffalo, but, 
 the moment an opportunity arrives, its kindred intelli- 
 gence allies it to man, its only superior or equal in rea- 
 soning power. We are about," said Mr. Yates, " to pre- 
 sent a play in which an elephant will act a part, and yet 
 act but herself, for the intelligence and affectionate dis- 
 position she will display on these boards as an actress 
 are merely her own private and domestic qualities. Not 
 every one of us actors, gentlemen, can say as much." 
 
 Then there was a laugh, in which Mr. Yates joined. 
 In short, Mr. Yates, who could play upon the public ear 
 better than some fiddles (I name no names), made his 
 debutante popular before ever she stepped upon the 
 scene. He then bowed with intense gratitude to the 
 audience for the attention they had honored him with, 
 retired to the prompter's side, and, as he reached it, the 
 act drop flew up and the play began. It commenced on 
 two legs ; the elephant did not come on until the second 
 scene of the act. 
 
 The drama was a good specimen of its kind. It was
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 277 
 
 a story of some interest, and length, and variety, and the 
 writer had been sharp enough not to make the elephant 
 too common in it. She came on only three or four times, 
 and always at a nick of time, and to do good business 
 as theatricals say, i. e,, for some important purpose in the 
 story. 
 
 A king of Siam had lately died, and the elephant was 
 seen taking her part in the funeral obsequies. She de- 
 posited his sceptre, etc., in the tomb of his fathers, and 
 was seen no more in that act. The rightful heir to this 
 throne was a young prince, to whom the elephant be- 
 longed. A usurper opposed him, and a battle took place ; 
 the rightful heir was worsted and taken prisoner ; the 
 usurper condemned him to be thrown into the sea. In 
 the next act, this sentence was being executed : four men 
 were discovered passing through a wood carrying no 
 end of a box. Suddenly a terrific roar was heard ; the 
 men put down the box rather more carefully than they 
 would in real life, and fled, and the elephant walked on 
 to the scene alone like any other actress. She smelt 
 about the box, and presently tore it open with her pro- 
 boscis, and there was her master, the rightful heir, but in 
 a sad exhausted state. When the good soul sees this, 
 what does she do but walk to the other side, and tear 
 down the bough of a fruit-tree and hand it to the sufferer. 
 He sucked it, and it had the effect of stout on him : it 
 made a man of him, and they marched away together, 
 the elephant trumpeting to show her satisfaction. 
 
 In the next act the rightful heir's friends were dis- 
 covered behind the bars of a prison at a height from the 
 ground. The order for their execution arrived, and they 
 were down upon their luck terribly. In marched the 
 elephant, tore out the iron bars, and squeezed herself 
 against the wall, half squatting in the shape of a triangle ; 
 so then the prisoners glided down her to the ground 
 slantendicular one after another. 
 
 When the civil war had lasted long enough to sicken
 
 278 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 both sides, and enough widows and orphans had been 
 made, the Siamese began to ask themselves, But what is 
 it all about ? The next thing was, they said, " What 
 asses we have been ! Was there no other way of decid- 
 ing between two men but bleeding the whole tribe?" 
 Then they reflected and said, We are asses, that is clear ; 
 but we hear there is one animal in the nation that is not 
 an ass ; why, of course, then she is the one to decide our 
 dispute. Accordingly, a grand assembly was held, the 
 rival claimants were compelled to attend, and the ele- 
 phant was led in. Then the high-priest, or some such 
 article, having first implored Heaven to speak through 
 the quadruped, bade her decide according to justice. No 
 sooner were the words out of his mouth than the ele- 
 phant stretched out her proboscis, seized a little crown 
 that glittered on the usurper's head, and, waving it grace- 
 fully in the air, deposited it gently and carefully on the 
 brows of the rightful heir. So then there was a rush 
 made on the wrongful heir. He was taken out guarded, 
 and warned off the premises ; the rightful heir mounted 
 the throne, and grinned and bowed all round the ele- 
 phant trumpeted Siam hurraed Djek's party in the 
 house echoed the sound, and down came the curtain in 
 thunders of applause. Though the curtain was down, 
 the applause continued most vehemently, and after a 
 while a cry arose at the back of the pit, " Elephant ! Ele- 
 phant !" That part of the audience that had paid at the 
 door laughed at this, but their laughter turned to curios- 
 ity when, in answer to the cry, the curtain was raised, 
 and the stage discovered empty. Curiosity in turn gave 
 way to surprise, for the elephant walked on from the 
 third grooves alone, and came slap down to the float. 
 At this, the astonished public literally roared at her. 
 But how can I describe the effect, the amazement, when, 
 in return for the compliment, the debutante slowly bent 
 her knees and courtesied twice to the British public, and 
 then retired backward as the curtain once more fell?
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 279 
 
 People looked at one another, and seemed to need to 
 read in their neighbor's eyes whether such a thing was 
 real ; and then followed that buzz which tells the know- 
 ing ones behind the curtain that the nail has gone home ; 
 that the theatre will be crammed to the ceiling to-morrow 
 night, and perhaps for eighty nights after. 
 
 Mr. Yates fed Mademoiselle Djek with his own hand 
 that night, crying, " Oh you duck !" 
 
 The fortunes of the Adelphi rose from that hour full 
 houses without intermission. 
 
 Mr. Yates shortened his introductory address, and 
 used to make it a brief, neat, and, I think, elegant eulogy 
 of her gentleness and affectionate disposition ; her talent 
 " the public are here to judge for themselves," said Mr. 
 Yates, and exit P. S. 
 
 A theatre is a little world, and Djek soon became the 
 hero of ours. Every body must have a passing peep at 
 the star that was keeping the theatre open all summer, 
 and providing bread for a score or two of families connect- 
 ed with it. Of course, a mind like mine was not among 
 the least inquisitive. But her head-keeper, Tom Elliot, a 
 surly fellow, repulsed our attempts to scrape acquaint- 
 ance. "Mind your business, and I'll mind mine," was 
 his chant. He seemed to be wonderfully jealous of her. 
 He could not forbid Mr. Yates to visit her, as he did us, 
 but he always insisted on being one of the party even 
 then. He puzzled us; but the strongest impression he 
 gave us was that he was jealous of her afraid that she 
 would get as fond of some others as of him, and so 
 another man might be able to work her, and his own 
 nose lose a joint, as the saying is. Later on we learned 
 to put a different interpretation on his conduct. Pippin 
 the Italian, and Bernard the Frenchman, used to serve 
 her with straw and water, etc., but it was quite a different 
 thing from Elliot. They were like a fine lady's grooms 
 and running footmen, but Elliot was her body-servant, 
 groom of the bed-chamber, or what not. He used always
 
 280 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 to sleep in the straw close to her. Sometimes, when he 
 was drunk, he would roll in between her legs ; and if she 
 had not been more careful of him than any other animal 
 ever was (especially himself), she must have crushed him 
 to death three nights in the week. Next to Elliot, but a 
 long way below him, M. Huguet seemed her favorite. 
 He used to come into her box, and caress her, and feed 
 her, and make much of her ; but she never went on the 
 stage without Elliot in sight ; and, in point of fact, all she 
 did upon our stage was done at a word of command 
 given then and there at the side by this man and no 
 other going down to the float, courtesying, and all. 
 
 Being mightily curious to know how he had gamed 
 such influence with her, I made several attempts to sound 
 him, but, drunk or sober, he was equally unfathomable 
 on this point. 
 
 I then endeavored to slake my curiosity at No. 2. I 
 made bold to ask M. Huguet how he had won her affec- 
 tions. The Frenchman was as communicative as the 
 native was reserved. He broke plenty of English over 
 me. It came to this, that the strongest feeling of an 
 elephant was gratitude, and that he had worked on this 
 for years ; was always kind to her, and seldom approach- 
 ed her without giving her lumps of sugar carried a 
 pocketful on purpose. This tallied with what I -had 
 heard and read of an elephant ; still the problem remain- 
 ed, Why is she fonder still of this Tom Elliot, whose 
 manner is not ingratiating, and who never speaks to her 
 but in a harsh, severe voice. 
 
 She stood my friend, any way. A good many new 
 supers were engaged to play with her, and I was set 
 over these, looked out their dresses, and went on with 
 them and* her as a slave : nine shillings a week for this 
 was added to my other nine which I drew for dressing 
 an actor or two of the higher class. 
 
 The more I was about her the more I felt that we were 
 not at the bottom of this quadruped, nor even of her bi-
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 281 
 
 *peds. There were gestures, and glances, and shrugs al- 
 ways passing to and fro among them. 
 
 One day, at the rehearsal of a farce, there was no Mr. 
 Yates. Somebody inquired loudly for him. 
 
 " Hush !" says another ; " haven't you heard ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You mustn't talk of it out of doors." 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Half killed by the elephant this morning." 
 
 It seems he was feeding and coaxing her, as he had 
 often done before, when all in a moment she laid hold of 
 him with her trunk and gave him a squeeze. He lay in 
 bed six weeks with it, and there was nobody to deliver 
 her eulogy at night. Elliot was at the other end of the 
 stage when the accident happened. He heard Mr. Yates 
 cry out, and ran in, and the elephant let Mr. Yates go 
 the moment she saw him. 
 
 We questioned Elliot. We might as well have cross- 
 examined the Monument. Then I inquired of M. Huguet 
 what this meant. That gentleman explained to me that 
 Djek had miscalculated her strength ; that she wanted 
 to caress so kind a manager, who was always feeding 
 and courting her, and had embraced him too warmly. 
 
 The play went on, and the elephant's reputation in- 
 creased. But her popularity was destined to receive a 
 shock as far as we little ones behind the curtain were 
 concerned. 
 
 One day, while Pippin was spreading her straw, she 
 knocked him down with her trunk, and, pressing her 
 tooth against him, bored two frightful holes in his skull 
 before Elliot could interfere. Pippin was carried to St. 
 George's Hospital, and we began to look in one another's 
 faces. 
 
 Pippin's situation was in the market. 
 
 One or two declined it. It came down to me. I re- 
 flected, and accepted it: another nine shillings; total, 
 twenty-seven shillings.
 
 282 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 That night two supers turned tail. An actress also, 
 whose name I have forgotten, refused to go on with her. 
 "I was not engaged to play with a brute," said this lady, 
 " and I won't." Others went on as usual, but were not 
 so sweet on it as before. The rightful heir lost all relish 
 for his part, and, above all, when his turn came to be pre- 
 served from harm by her, I used to hear him crying out 
 of the box to Elliot, " Are you there ? are you sure you 
 are there?" and, when she tore open his box, Garrick 
 never acted better than this one used to now, for you 
 see his cue was to exhibit fear and exhaustion, and he 
 did both to the life, because for the last five minutes he 
 had been thinking, " Oh dear ! oh dear ! suppose she 
 should do the foot business on my box instead of the 
 proboscis business." 
 
 These, however, were vain fears. She made no mis- 
 take before the public. 
 
 Nothing lasts forever in this world, and the time came 
 that she ceased to fill the house. Then Mr. Yates re-en- 
 gaged her for the provinces, and, having agreed with the 
 country managers, sent her down to Bath and Bristol 
 first. He had a good opinion of me, and asked me to 
 go with her and watch his interests. I should not cer- 
 tainly have applied for the place, but it was not easy to 
 say no to Mr. Yates, and I felt I owed him some repara- 
 tion for the wrong I had done that great artist in ac- 
 companying his voice with my gestures. 
 
 In short, we started, Djek, Elliot, Bernard, I, and Pip- 
 pin, on foot (he was just out of St. George's). Messrs. 
 Huguet and Yates rolled in their carriage to meet us at 
 the principal towns where we played. 
 
 As we could not afford to make her common, -our walk- 
 ing was all night-work, and introduced me to a rough 
 life. 
 
 The average of night weather is wetter and windier 
 than day, and many a vile night we tramped through 
 when wise men were abed ; and we never knew for cer-
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 283 
 
 tain where we shoiild pass the night, for it depended on 
 Djek. She was so enormous that half the inns could not 
 find us a place big enough for her." Our first evening 
 stroll was to Bath and Bristol; thence we crossed to 
 Dublin, thence we returned to Plymouth. We walked 
 from Plymouth to Liverpool, playing with good success 
 at all these places. At Liverpool she laid hold of Ber- 
 nard and would have settled his hash, but Elliot came 
 between them. 
 
 That same afternoon, in walks a young gentleman 
 dressed in the height of Parisian fashion glossy hat, 
 satin tie, trowsers puckered at the haunches sprucer 
 than any poor Englishman wih 1 be while the world lasts, 
 and who was it but Mons. Bernard come to take leave. 
 We endeavored to dissuade him. He smiled and shook 
 his head, treated us, flattered us, and showed us his prep- 
 arations for France. 
 
 All that day and the next he sauntered about us dress- 
 ed like a gentleman, with his hands in his pockets, and 
 an ostentatious neglect of his late aifectionate charge. 
 Before he left he invited me to drink something at his 
 expense, and was good enough to say I was what he 
 most regetted leaving. 
 
 "Then why go?" said I. 
 
 " I will tell you, mon pauvre garc.on," said Mons. Ber- 
 nard. " We old hands have all got our orders to say she 
 is a duck. Ah ! you have found that out of yourself. 
 Well, now, as I have done with her, I will tell you a part 
 of her character, for I know her well. Once she injures 
 you she can never forgive you. So long as she has nev- 
 er hurt you there's a fair chance she never will. I have 
 been about her for years, and she never molested me till 
 yesterday. But, if she once attacks a man, that man's 
 death-warrant is signed. I can't altogether account for 
 it, but trust my experience, it is so. I would have staid 
 with you all my life if she had not shown me my fate, 
 but not now. Merci ! I have a wife and two children in
 
 284 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 France. I have saved some money out of her. I return 
 to the bosom of my family ; and if Pippin stays with her 
 after the hint she gave him in London, why, you will see 
 the death of Pippin, my lad, voilk tout, that is, if you 
 don't go first. Qu'est que <?a te fait a la fin ? tu es gar- 
 9on toi buvons !" 
 
 The next day he left us, and left me sad for one. The 
 quiet determination with which he acted upon positive 
 experience of her was enough to make a man thought- 
 ful ; and then Bernard was the flower of us : he was the 
 drop of mirth and gayety in our iron cup. He was a 
 pure, unadulterated Frenchman ; and, to be just, where 
 can you find any thing so delightful as a Frenchman of 
 the right sort ? 
 
 He fluttered home singing 
 
 "Les doux yeux de ma brunet te, 
 
 Tout e mignonett e tout e gentillett e, " 
 and left us all in black. 
 
 God bless you, my merry fellow. I hope you found 
 your children healthy, and your brunette true, and your 
 friends alive, and that the world is just to you, and smiles 
 on you, as you do on it, and did on us. 
 
 From Liverpool we walked to Glasgow, from Glasgow 
 to Edinburgh, and from Edinburgh on a cold starry mid- 
 night we started for Newcastle. 
 
 In this interval of business let me paint you my com- 
 panions Pippin and Elliot. The reader is entitled to 
 this, for there must have been something out of the com- 
 mon in their looks, since I was within an ace of being 
 killed along of the Italian's face, and was imprisoned four 
 days through the Englishman's mug. 
 
 The Italian whom we know by the nickname of Pip- 
 phi was a man of immense stature and athletic mould. 
 His face, once seen, would never be forgotten. His skin, 
 almost as swarthy as Othello's, was set off by dazzling 
 ivory teeth, and lighted by two glorious large eyes, black 
 as jet, brilliant as diamonds ; the orbs of black lightning
 
 JACK OF AT.T. TRADES. 285 
 
 gleamed from beneath eyebrows that many a dandy 
 would have bought for mustaches at a high valuation. 
 A nose like a reaping-hook completed him. Perch him 
 on a tolerable-sized rock, and there you had a black eagle. 
 
 As if this was not enough, Pippin would always wear 
 a conical hat ; and had he but stepped upon the stage in 
 "Masaniello" or the like, all the other brigands would 
 have sunk down to a rural police by the side of our man. 
 But now comes the absurdity. His inside was not differ- 
 ent from his out ; it was the exact opposite. You might 
 turn over twenty thousand bullet heads and bolus eyes 
 before you could find one man so thoroughly harmless 
 as this thundering brigand. He was just a pet, a uni- 
 versal pet of all the men and women that came near him. 
 He had the disposition of a dove and the heart of a hare. 
 He was a lamb in wolf's clothing. 
 
 My next portrait is not so pleasing. 
 
 A MAN TURNED BRUTE. 
 
 Some ten years before this, a fine, stout young English 
 rustic entered the service of Mademoiselle Djek. He 
 was a model for bone and muscle, and had two cheeks 
 like roses. When he first went to Paris he was looked 
 on as a curiosity there. People used to come to Djek's 
 stable to see her, and Elliot, the young English Samson. 
 Just ten years after this young Elliot had got to be call- 
 ed " old Elliot." His face was not only pale, it was 
 colorless; it was the face of a walking corpse. This 
 came of ten years' brandy and brute. I have often ask- 
 ed people to guess the man's age, and they always guess- 
 ed sixty, sixty-five, or seventy oftenest the latter. 
 
 He was thirty-five not a day more. 
 
 This man's mind had come down along with his body. 
 He understood nothing but elephant ; he seldom talked, 
 and then nothing but elephant. He was an elephant- 
 man. I will give you an instance which I always thought 
 curious. 
 
 An elephant, you may have observed, can not stand
 
 286 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 quite still. The great weight of its head causes a nod- 
 ding movement, which is perpetual when the creature 
 stands erect. Well, this Tom Elliot, when he stood up, 
 used always to have one foot advanced, and his eye half 
 closed, and his head niddle-noddling like an elephant all 
 the time ; and with it all such a presence of brute and 
 absence of soul in his mug, enough to give a thoughtful 
 man some very queer ideas about man and beast. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MY office in this trip was merely to contract for the 
 elephant's food at the various places ; but I was getting 
 older and shrewder, and more designing than I used to 
 be, and I was quite keen enough to see in this elephant 
 the means of bettering my fortunes, if I could but make 
 friends with her. But how to do this ? She was like a 
 coquette : strange admirers welcome ; but when you had 
 courted her a while she got tired of you, and then noth- 
 ing short of your demise satisfied her caprice. Her heart 
 seemed inaccessible except to this brute Elliot, and he, 
 drunk or sober, guarded the secret of his fascination by 
 some instinct, for reason he possessed hi a very small de- 
 gree. 
 
 I played the spy on quadruped and biped, and I found 
 out the fact, but the reason beat me. I saw that she 
 was more tenderly careful of him than a mother of her 
 child. I saw him roll down stupid drunk under her 
 belly, and I saw her lift first one foot and then the other, 
 and draw them slowly and carefully back, trembling with 
 fear lest she might make a mistake and hurt him. 
 
 But why she was a mother to him and a stepmother 
 to the rest of us, that I could not learn. 
 
 One day, between Plymouth and Liverpool, having 
 left Elliot and her together, I happened to return, and I 
 found the elephant alone and in a state of excitement, 
 and looking in I observed some blood upon the straw.
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 287 
 
 His turn has come at last, was rny first notion ; but, 
 looking round, there was Elliot behind me. 
 
 " I was afraid she had tried it on with you," I said. 
 
 " Who ?" 
 
 "The elephant." 
 
 Elliot's face was not generally expressive, but the look 
 of silent scorn he gave me at the idea of the elephant at- 
 tacking him was worth seeing. The brute knew some- 
 thing I did not know, and could not find out ; and from 
 this one piece of knowledge he looked down upon me 
 with a sort of contempt that set all the Seven Dials' 
 blood on fire. 
 
 " I will bottom this," said I, " if I die for it." 
 
 My plan now was to feed Djek every day with my 
 qwn hand, but never to go near her without Elliot at my 
 very side and in front of the elephant. 
 
 This was my first step. 
 
 We were now drawing toward Newcastle, and had to 
 lie at Morpeth, where we arrived late, and found Mr. 
 Yates and M. Huguet, who had come out from New- 
 castle to meet us ; and at this place I determined on a 
 new move which I had long meditated. 
 
 Elliot, I reflected, always slept with the elephant. 
 None of the other men had ever done this. Now might 
 there not be some magic in this unbroken familiarity be- 
 tween the two animals ? 
 
 Accordingly, at Morpeth, I pretended there was no 
 bed vacant in the inn, and asked Elliot to let me lie be- 
 side him : he grunted an ungracious assent. 
 
 Not to overdo it at first, I got Elliot between me and 
 Djek, so that if she was offended at my intrusion she 
 must pass over her darling to resent it. We had tramp- 
 ed a good many miles, and were soon fast asleep. 
 
 About two in the morning I was awoke by a shout 
 and a crunching, and felt myself dropping into the straw 
 out of the elephant's mouth. She had stretched her 
 proboscis over him had taken me up so delicately that
 
 288 JACK OF ALT. TRADES. 
 
 I felt nothing, and when Elliot shouted I was in her 
 mouth. At his voice, that rung in my ears like the last 
 trumpet, she dropped me like a hot potato. I rolled out 
 of the straw, giving tongue a good one, and ran out of 
 the shed. I had no sooner got to the inn than I felt a 
 sickening pain in my shoulder and fainted away. 
 
 Her huge tooth had gone into my shoulder like a 
 wedge. It was myself I had heard being crunched. 
 
 They did what they could for me, and I soon came to. 
 When I recovered my senses I was seized with vomit- 
 ing ; but at last all violent symptoms abated, and I be- 
 gan to suffer great pain in the injured part, and did suf- 
 fer for six weeks. 
 
 And so I scraped clear. Somehow or other, Elliot 
 was not drunk, or nothing could have saved me. For a 
 second wonder, he, who was a heavy sleeper, woke at 
 the very slight noise she made eating me: a moment 
 later, and nothing could have saved me. I use too many 
 words suppose she had eaten me what then ? 
 
 They told Mr. Yates at breakfast, and he sent for me, 
 and advised me to lie quiet at Morpeth till the fever of 
 the wound should be off me ; but I refused. She was 
 to start at ten, and I told him I should start with her. 
 
 Running from grim death like that, I had left my shoes 
 behind in the shed, and M. Huguet sent his servant Bap- 
 tiste, an Italian, for them. 
 
 Mr. Yates then asked me for all the particulars, and 
 while I was telling him and M. Huguet, we heard a com- 
 motion in the street, and saw people running, and pres- 
 ently one of the waiters ran in and cried, 
 
 " The elephant has killed a man, or near it." 
 
 Mr. Yates laughed and said, 
 
 " Not quite so bad as that ; for here is the man." 
 
 " No, no," cried the waiter, " it is not him ; it is one 
 of the foreigners." 
 
 Mr. Yates started up all trembling. "He ran to the 
 stable. I followed him as I was, and there we saw a
 
 JACK OP ALT. TRADES. 289 
 
 sight to make our blood run cold. On the corn-bin lay 
 poor Baptiste crushed into a mummy. How it hap- 
 pened there was no means of knowing ; but, no doubt, 
 while he was groping in the straw for my wretched 
 shoes, she struck him with her trunk, perhaps more than 
 once ; his breast-bones were broken to chips, and every 
 time he breathed, which by God's mercy was not many 
 minutes, the man's whole chest-frame puffed out like a 
 bladder with the action of his lungs : it was too horrible 
 to look at. 
 
 Elliot had run at Baptiste's cry, but too late to save 
 his life this time. He had drawn the man out of the 
 straw as she was about to pound him to a jelly, and 
 there the poor soul lay on the corn-bin, and by his side 
 lay the things he had died for two old shoes. Elliot 
 had found them in the straw, and put them there of all 
 places in the world. 
 
 By this time all Morpeth was out. They besieged the 
 doors and vowed death to the elephant. M. Huguet be- 
 came greatly alarmed. He could spare Baptiste, but he 
 could not spare Djek. He got Mr. Yates to pacify the 
 people. " Tell them something," said he. 
 
 "What on earth can I say for her over that man's 
 bleeding body ?" said Mr. Yates, " Curse her ! would 
 to God I had never seen her !" 
 
 " Tell them he used her cruel," said M. Huguet ; " I 
 have brought her off with that before now." 
 
 "Well, my sickness came on again, partly, no doubt, by 
 the sight and the remorse, and I was got to bed, and lay 
 there some days ; so I did not see all that passed, but I 
 heard some, and I know the rest by instinct now. 
 
 Half an hour after breakfast-time Baptiste died. On 
 this the elephant was detained by the authorities, and a 
 coroner's inquest was summoned, and sat in the sham- 
 bles on the victim, with the butcheress looking on at the 
 proceedings. 
 
 Pippin told mo she took off a juryman's hat during 
 N
 
 290 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 the investigation, waved it triumphantly in the air, and 
 placed it cleverly on her favorite's head, old Tom. 
 
 At this inquest two or three persons deposed on oath 
 that the deceased had ill used her more than once in 
 France ; in particular, that he had run a pitchfork into 
 her two years ago ; that he had been remonstrated with, 
 but in vain; unfortunately, she had recognized him at 
 once, and killed him out of revenge for past cruelty, or 
 to save herself from fresh outrages. 
 
 This cooled the ardor against her. Some even took 
 part with her against the man. 
 
 " Run a pitchfork into an elephant ! Oh ! for shame ! 
 no wonder she killed him at last. How good of her not 
 to kill him then and there what forbearance forgave 
 it for two years, ye see." 
 
 There is a fixed opinion among men that an elephant 
 is a good, kind creature. The opinion is fed by the pro- 
 prietors of elephants, who must nurse the notion or lose 
 their customers, and so a set tale is always ready to clear 
 the guilty and criminate the sufferer ; and this tale is 
 greedily swallowed by the public. You will hear and 
 read many such tales in the papers before you die. 
 Every such tale is a lie. 
 
 How curiously things happen ! Last year, i. e., more 
 than twenty years after this event, my little girl went 
 for a pound of butter to Newport Street. She brought 
 it wrapped up in a scrap of a very old newspaper ; in 
 unrolling it, my eye, by mere accident, fell upon these 
 words : " An inquest." I had no sooner read the para- 
 graph than I put the scrap of paper away in my desk : it 
 lies before me now, and I am copying it. 
 
 " An inquest was held at the Phoenix Inn, Morpeth, on 
 the 27th ultimo, on view of the body of an Italian named 
 Baptiste Bernard, who was one of the attendants on the 
 female elephant which lately performed at the Adelphi. 
 It appeared from the evidence that the man had stabbed 
 the elephant in the trunk with a pitchfork about two
 
 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 291 
 
 years ago while in a state of intoxication, and that on the 
 Tuesday previous to the inquest the animal caught hold 
 of him with her trunk and did him so much injury that 
 he died in a few hours. Verdict, died from the wounds 
 and bruises received from the trunk of an elephant. 
 Deodand, 5s." 
 
 Well, this has gone all abroad, for print travels like 
 wind; and it is not fair to the friends and the memory 
 of this Baptiste Bernard to print that he died by his 
 own cruelty, or fault, or folly, so take my deposition, and 
 carry it to Milan, his native city. 
 
 I declare upon oath that the above is a lie ; that the 
 man was never an attendant upon the female elephant ; 
 he was an attendant on the female Huguet ; for he was 
 that lady's footman. His first introduction to Mademoi- 
 selle Djek was her killing him, and he died, not by any 
 fault of his own, but by the will of God and through ig- 
 norance of the real nature of \hQfull-grown elephant, the 
 cunningest, most treacherous, and bloodthirsty beast that 
 ever played the butcher among mankind. 
 
 What men speak dissolves in the air, what they print 
 stands fast and will look them in the face to all eternity. 
 I print the truth about this man's death : so help me 
 God. 
 
 Business is business. As soon as we had got the in- 
 quest over and stamped the lie current, hid the truth 
 and buried the man, we marched south and played our 
 little play at .Newcastle.. 
 
 Deodand for a human soul sent by murder to its ac- 
 count, five bob. 
 
 After Newcastle we walked to York, and thence to 
 Manchester. I crept along thoroughly crestfallen. 
 Months and months I had watched, and spied, and tried 
 to pluck out the heart of this Tom Elliot's mystery ; I 
 had failed. Months and months I iiad tried to gain some 
 influence over Djek ; I had failed. But for Elliot, it was 
 clear I should not live a single day within reach of her
 
 292 JACK OF ALL TKAIJKS. 
 
 trunk : this brute was my superior. I was compelled to 
 look up to him, and I did look up to him. 
 
 As I tramped sulkily along, my smarting shoulder re- 
 minded me that in elephant, as in every thing else I had 
 tried, I was Jack, not master. 
 
 The proprietors had their cause of discontent too. "We 
 had silenced the law, but we could not silence opinion. 
 Somehow suspicion hung about her in the very air wher- 
 ever she went. She never throve in the English prov- 
 inces after the Morpeth job, and finding this, Mr. Yates 
 said, " Oh, hang her, she has lost her character here ; 
 send her to America." So he and M. Huguet joined 
 partnership and took this new speculation on their 
 shoulders. America was even in that day a great card 
 if you went with an English or French reputation. 
 
 I had been thinking of leaving her and her old Tom iii 
 despair ; but, now that other dangers and inconveniences 
 were to be endured besides her and her trunk, by some 
 strange freak of human nature, or by fate, I began to 
 cling to her like a limpet to a rock the more you pull at 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Yates dissuaded me. " Have nothing to do with 
 her, Jack ; she will serve you like ah 1 the rest. Stay at 
 home, and I'll find something for you in the theatre." 
 
 I thought a great deal of Mr. Yates for this, for he 
 was speaking against his own interest. I was a faithful 
 servant to him, and he needed one about her. Many a 
 five-pound note I had saved him already, and well he de- 
 served it at my hands. 
 
 " No, sir," I said, " I shah 1 be of use, and I can't bear 
 to be nonplushed by two brutes like Elliot and her. I 
 have begun to study her, and I must go on to the word 
 'finis!'" 
 
 Messrs. Yates and Huguet insured the elephant for 
 20,000, and sent us all to sea together in the middle of 
 November, a pretty month to cross the Atlantic in. 
 
 This was what betters call a hedge, and not a bad one.
 
 JACK OP ALL TEADES. 293 
 
 Our party was Queen Djek ; Mr. Stevenson, her finan- 
 cier ; Mr. Gallott, her stage-manager and wrongful heir ; 
 Elliot, her keeper, her lord, her king ; Pippin, her slave, 
 always trembling for his head ; myself, her commissariat ; 
 and one George Hinde, from Wombwell's, her man-of- 
 all-work. 
 
 She had a stout cabin built upon deck for her. It cost 
 40 to make; what she paid for the accommodation 
 heaven knows, but I should think a good round sum, for 
 it was the curse of the sailors and passengers, and added 
 fresh terrors to navigation. The steersman could not 
 see the ship's head until the sea took the mariners' part 
 and knocked it into toothpicks. 
 
 Captain Sebor had such a passage with us as he had 
 never encountered before. He told us so and no won- 
 der ; he never had such a wholesale murderess on board 
 before contrary winds forever, and stiff gales too. At 
 last it blew great guns ; and one night, as the sun went 
 down ci'imson in the Gulf of Florida, the sea running 
 mountains high, I saw Captain Sebor himself was fidgety. 
 He had cause. That night a tempest came on ; " the 
 Ontario" rolled fearfully and groaned like a dying man ; 
 about two in the morning a sea struck her, smashed 
 Djek's cabin to atoms, and left her exposed and reeling; 
 another such would now have swept her overboard, but 
 her wits never left her for a moment. She threw herself 
 down flatter than any man could have conceived possi- 
 ble ; out went all her four legs, and she glued her belly 
 to the deck ; the sailors passed a chain from the weather 
 to the lee bulwarks, and she seized it with her proboscis, 
 and held on like grim death. Poor thing, her coat nev- 
 er got not to say dry ; she was like a great water-rat all 
 the rest of the voyage. 
 
 The passage was twelve weeks of foul weather. The 
 elephant began to be suspected of being the cause of 
 this, and the sailors often looked askant at her, and said 
 we should never see port till she walked the plank into
 
 294 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 the Atlantic. If her underwriters saved their twenty 
 thousand pounds, it was touch and go more than once or 
 twice. Moreover, she ate so little all the voyage that it 
 was a wonder to Elliot and me how she came not to die 
 of sickness and hunger. I suppose she survived it all 
 because she had more mischief to do. 
 
 As the pretty little witches sing in Mr. Locke's opera 
 of "Macbeth," 
 
 She must, she must, she must, she must, she must shed 
 much more blood. 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 OUR preposterous long voyage deranged all the calcu- 
 lations that had been made 'for us in England, and we 
 reached New York just at the wrong time. We found 
 Master Burke playing at the Park Theatre, and we were 
 forced to treat with an inferior house, the Bowery Thea- 
 tre. We played there with but small success compared 
 with what we had been used to in Europe. Master 
 Burke filled the house we did not fill ours so that at 
 last she was actually eclipsed by a human actor ; to be 
 sure it was a boy, not a man, and child's play is some- 
 tunes preferred by the theatre-going world even to horse- 
 play. 
 
 The statesmen were cold to us ; they had not at this 
 time learned to form an opinion of their own at sight on 
 such matters, and we did not bring them an overpower- 
 ing European verdict to which they had nothing to do 
 but sign their names. There was no groove cut for the 
 mind to run in, and while they hesitated, the speculation 
 halted. I think she would succeed there now; but at 
 this time they were not ripe for an elephant. 
 
 We left New York, and away to Philadelphia on foot 
 and steam-boat. 
 
 There is a place on the Delaware where the boat draws
 
 JACK OF ALL TEADES. 295 
 
 up to a small pier. Down this we marched, and about 
 ten yards from the end the floor gave way under her 
 weight, and Djek and her train fell into the sea. I was 
 awoke from a reverie, and found myself sitting right at 
 top of her, with my knees in Chesapeake Bay. Elliot 
 had a rough Benjamin on, and as he was coming thun- 
 dering down with the rest of the rubbish alive and dead, 
 it caught in a nail, and he hung over the bay by the 
 shoulder like an Indian fakir, cursing and swearing for 
 all the world like a dog barking. I never saw siich a 
 posture and, oh ! the language ! 
 
 I swam out, but Djek was caught in a trap between 
 the two sets of piles. The water was about two feet 
 over her head, so that every now and then she disap- 
 peared, and then striking the bottom she came up again, 
 plunging, and rolling, and making waves like a steam- 
 boat. Her trunk she kept vertical, like the hose of a 
 diving-bell, and oh ! the noises that came up from the 
 bottom of the sea through that flesh-pipe ! For about four 
 hours she went up and down the gamut of " O Lord, 
 what shall I do ?" more than a thousand tunes, I think. 
 We brought ropes to her aid, and boats and men, and 
 tried all we knew to move her, but in vain ; and when 
 we had exhausted our sagacity, she drew upon a better 
 bank her own. Talk of brutes not being able to reason 
 gammon. Djek could reason like Solomon; for each 
 fresh difficulty she found a fresh resource. On this oc- 
 casion she did what I never saw her do before or since : 
 she took her enormous skull, and used it as a battering- 
 ram against the piles ; two of them resisted no wonder 
 they were about eight inches in diameter ; the third 
 snapped like glass, and she plunged through and waddled 
 on shore. I met her with a bucket of brandy and hot 
 water stiff. 
 
 Ladies, who are said to sip this compound in your 
 boudoirs while your husbands are smoking at the clubs, 
 but I don't believe it of you, learn how this lady disposed
 
 296 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 of her wooden tumbler full. She thrust her proboscis 
 into it. Whis s s s p ! now it is all in her trunk. 
 Whis s s sh! now it is all in her abdomen: one 
 breath drawn and exhaled sent it from the bucket home. 
 This done, her eye twinkled, and she trumpeted to the 
 tune of " All is well that ends well." 
 
 I should weary the reader were I to relate at length 
 all the small incidents that befell us in the United States. 
 
 The general result was failure, loss of money, our sal- 
 aries not paid up, and fearful embarrassments staring us 
 in the face. We scraped through without pawning the 
 elephant, but we were often on the verge of it. All this 
 did not choke my ambition. Warned by the past, I 
 never ventured near her (unless Elliot was there) for 
 twelve months after our landing; but I was always 
 watching Elliot and her to find the secret of his influence. 
 
 A fearful annoyance to the leaders of the speculation 
 was the drunkenness of Old Tom and George Hinde: 
 these two encouraged one another and defkd us, and of 
 course they were our masters, because no one but Elliot 
 could move the elephant from place to place, or work 
 her on the stage. 
 
 One night Elliot was so drunk that he fell down sense- 
 less at the door of her shed on his way to repose. I was 
 not near, but Mr. Gallott it seems was, and he told us 
 she put out her proboscis, drew him tenderly in, laid him 
 on the straw, and flung some straw over him or partly 
 over him. Mr. Gallott is alive, and a public character ; 
 you can ask him whether this is true : I tell this one 
 thing on hearsay. 
 
 Not long after this, in one of the American towns, I 
 forget which, passing by Djek's shed, I heard a tremen- 
 dous row. I was about to call Elliot, thinking it was the 
 old story, somebody getting butchered; but, I don't 
 know how it was, something stopped me, and I looked 
 cautiously in instead, and saw Tom Elliot walking into 
 her with a pitchfork, she trembling like a schoolboy with
 
 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 297 
 
 her head in a corner, and the blood streaming from her 
 sides. As soon as he caught sight of me he left off and 
 muttered unintelligibly. I said nothing. I thought the 
 more. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 had to go by water to a place called City Point, 
 and thence to Pittsville. I made a mistake as to the 
 hour the boat started, and Djek and Co. went on board 
 without me. 
 
 Well, you will say I could follow by the next boat. 
 But how about the tin to pay the passage ? My pocket 
 was dry, and the treasurer gone on. But I had a good 
 set of blacking, brushes ; so sold them, and followed on 
 with the proceeds got to City Point. Elephant gone 
 on to Pittsville ; that I expected. Twenty miles or so I 
 had to tramp on an empty stomach. And now doesn't 
 the devil send me a fellow who shows me a short cut 
 through a wood to Pittsville : into the wood I go. I 
 thought it was to be like an English wood out of the 
 sun into a pleasant shade, and, by then you are cool, into 
 the world again. Instead of that, " the deeper, the deep- 
 er you are in it," as the song of the bottle says, the 
 farther you were from getting out of it. Presently two 
 roads instead of one, and then I knew I was done. I 
 took one road : it twisted like a serpent. I had not been 
 half an hour on it before I lost all the points of the com- 
 pass. Says I, I don't know whether I ever shall see day- 
 light again ; but if I do, City Point will be the first thing 
 I shall see. You mark my words, said I. 
 
 So here was I lost in what they call a wood out there, 
 but we should call a forest at home. And now, being in 
 the heart of it, I got among the devilishest noises, and 
 nothing to be seen to account for them ; little feet sud- 
 denly pattering and scurrying along the ground, wings
 
 298 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 flapping out of trees ; but what struck most awe into a 
 chap from the Seven Dials was the rattle the everlast- 
 ing rattle, and nothing to show. Often I have puzzled 
 myself what this rattle could be. It was like a thousand 
 rattlesnakes, and didn't I wish I was in the Seven Dials, 
 though some get lost in them for that matter. After all, 
 I think it was only insects, but insects by billions ; you 
 never heard any thing like it in an English wood. 
 
 Just as I was losing heart in this enchanted wood, I 
 heard an earthly sound, the tramp of a horse's foot. It 
 was music. 
 
 But the leaves were so thick I could not see where the 
 horse was ; he seemed to get farther off, and then near- 
 er. At last the sound came so close I made a run, burst 
 through a lot of green leaves, and came out plump on a 
 man riding a gray cob. He up with the butt-end of his 
 whip to fell me, but, seeing I was respectable, " Halloo ! 
 stranger," says he, "guess you sort o' startled me." 
 "Beg pardon, sir," says I, "but I have lost my way." 
 " I see you are a stranger," said he. 
 
 So then he asked me where I was bound for, and I 
 told him Pittsville. 
 
 I won't insult the reader by telling him what he said 
 about the course I had been taking through the wood. 
 I might as well tell him his A B C, or which side his 
 bread and butter falls in the dust on. Then he asked 
 me who I was. So I told him I was one of the elephant's 
 domestics, leastways I did not word it so candid : "I was 
 in charge of the elephant, and had taken a short cut." 
 
 Now he had heard of Djek, and seen her bills xip, so 
 he knew it was all right. " How am I to find my way 
 out, sir ?" said I. " Find your way out ?" said he. " You 
 will never find your way out." Good news, that. 
 
 He thought a bit ; then he said, " The best thing you 
 can do is to come home with me, and to-morrow I will 
 send you on." 
 
 I could have hugged him.
 
 JACK OF ALL TEADES. 299 
 
 "You had better walk behind me," says he; "my 
 pony bites." So I tramped astern; and on we went, 
 patter, patter, patter through the wood. At first I felt 
 as jolly as a sandboy marching behind the pony ; but 
 when we had pattered best part of an hour, I began to 
 have my misgivings. In all the enchanted woods ever I 
 had read of, there was a small trifle of a wizard or ogre 
 that took you home and settled your hash. Fee faw 
 fum, I smell the blood of an Englishmun, etc. 
 
 And still on we pattered, and the sun began to decline, 
 and the wood to darken, and still we pattered on. I was 
 just thinking of turning tail and slipping back among the 
 panthers, and musquitoes, and rattlesnakes, when, O be 
 joyful, we burst on a clearing, and there was a nice house 
 in the middle of it, and out came the dogs jumping to 
 welcome us, and niggers no end with white eyeballs and 
 grinders like snow. 
 
 They pulled him off his horse, and in we went. There 
 was his good lady, and his daughter a beautiful girl, 
 and such a dinner. We sat down, and I maintained a 
 modest taciturnity for some minutes: "The silent hog 
 eats the most acorns." After dinner he shows me all 
 manner of ways of mixing the grog, and I show him one 
 way of drinking it when you can get it. Then he must 
 hear about the elephant. So I tell him the jade's his- 
 tory, but bind him to secrecy. 
 
 Then the young lady puts in. " So you are really an 
 Englishman ?" and she looks me all over. 
 
 " That you may take your oath of, miss," says I. 
 
 "Oh!" says she, and smiles. I did not take it up at 
 first, but I see what it was now. Me standing five feet 
 four, I did not come up to her notion of the Father of all 
 Americans. " Does this great people spring from such 
 a little stock as we have here ?" thinks my young lady. 
 I should have up and told her the pluck makes the man, 
 and not the inches ; but I lost that chance. Then, being 
 pressed with questions, I told them all my adventures,
 
 300 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 and they hung on my words. It was a new leaf to them, 
 I could see that. 
 
 The young lady's eyes glittered like two purple stars 
 at a stranger with the gift of the gab that had seen so 
 much life as I had, and midnight came in no time. Then 
 I was ushered to bed. Now up to that time I had al- 
 ways gone to roost without pomp or ceremony; some- 
 times with a mould candle, but oftener a farthing dip, 
 which I have seen it dart its beams out of a bottle in- 
 stead of a flat candlestick. 
 
 This time a whole cavalcade of us went up the stairs : 
 one blackie marched hi my van with two lights, two 
 blackies brought up my rear. They showed me into a 
 beautiful room, and stood in the half-light with eyes and 
 teeth like Ted-hot silver, glittering and diabolical. I 
 thought, of course, they would go away now. Not they. 
 Presently one imp of darkness brings me a chair. 
 
 I sit down, and wonder. Other two lay hold of my 
 boots and whip them off. This done, they buzz about 
 me like black and white fiends, fidgeting, till I longed to 
 punch their heads. They pull my coat off and my trow- 
 sers ; then they hoist me into bed : this done, first one 
 makes a run and tucks me in, and grins over me diabolic- 
 al ; then another comes like a battering-ram, and tucks 
 me in tighter. Fiend 3 looks at the work, and puts the 
 artful touches at the corners, and behold me wedged, 
 and then the beneficent fiends mizzled with a hearty grin 
 that seemed to turn them all ivory. I could not believe 
 my senses : I had never been tucked in since my mother's 
 time. 
 
 In the morning, struggled out, and came down, to 
 breakfast. Took leave of the good Samaritan, who ap- 
 pointed two of my niggers to see me out of the wood ; 
 made my bow to the ladies, and away with a grateful 
 heart. The niggers conducted me clear of the wood and 
 set me on the broad road. Then came one of the pills a 
 poor fellow has to stomach. I had made friends with
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 301 
 
 the poor darkies, and now I had not even a few pence to 
 give them, and such a little would have gone so far with 
 them ! I have often felt the bitterness of poverty, but 
 never I do think as when I parted with my poor niggers 
 at the edge of the wood, and was forced to see them go 
 slowly home without a farthing. 
 
 I wish these few words could travel across the water, 
 and my good host might read them, and see I have not 
 forgotten him all these years. But, dear heart! you 
 may be sure he is not upon the earth now. It is years 
 ago, and a man that had the heart to harbor a stranger 
 and a wanderer, why he would be one of the first to go. 
 
 We steamed and tramped up and down the United 
 States of America. On our return to Norfolk she broke 
 loose at midnight, slipped into the town, took up the 
 trees on the Boulevard and strewed them flat, went into 
 the market, broke into a vegetable shop, munched the 
 entire stock, next to a coachmaker's, took off a carriage- 
 wheel, opened the door, stripped the cushions, and we 
 found her eating the stuffing. 
 
 One day at noon we found ourselves fourteen miles 
 from the town, I forget its name, we had to play in that 
 very night. Mr. Gallott had gone on to rehearse, etc., 
 and it behooved us to be marching after him. At this 
 juncture, old Tom, being rather drunk, feels a strong de- 
 sire to be quite drunk, and refuses to stir from his brandy 
 and water. Our exchequer was in no condition to be 
 trifled with thus : if Elliot & Co. became helpless for an 
 hour or two, we should arrive too late for the night's 
 performance, and Djek eating her head off all the while. 
 I coaxed and threatened our two brandy sponges, but in 
 vain ; they stuck and sucked. I was in despair, and, be- 
 ing in despair, came to a desperate resolution : I determ- 
 ined to try and master her myself then and there, and to 
 defy these drunkards. 
 
 I told Pippin my project. He started back aghast. 
 He viewed me in the light of a madman. " Are you
 
 302 JACK OF ATJ. TBADES. 
 
 tired of your life ?" said he. But I was inflexible. Seven 
 Dials' pluck was up. I was enraged with my drunkards, 
 and I was tired of waiting so many years the slave of a 
 quadruped whose master was a brute. 
 
 Elephants are driven with a rod of steel sharpened at 
 the end ; about a foot from the end of this weapon is a 
 large hook ; by sticking this hook into an elephant's ear, 
 and pulling it, you make her sensible which way you 
 want her to go, and persuade her to comply. 
 
 Armed with this tool, I walked up to Djek's shed, and, 
 in the most harsh and brutal voice I could command, 
 bade her come out. She moved in the shed, but hesi- 
 tated. I repeated the command still more repulsively, 
 and out she came toward me very slowly. 
 
 With beasts such as lions, tigers, and elephants, great 
 promptitude is the thing. Think for them ! don't give 
 them time to think, or their thoughts may be evil. I had 
 learned this much, so I introduced myself by driving the 
 steel into Djek's ribs, and then hooking her ear, while 
 Pippin looked down from a first story window. If Djek 
 had known how my heart was beating she would have 
 killed me then and there ; but, observing no hesitation 
 on my part, she took it all as a matter of course, and 
 walked with me like a lamb. I found myself alone with 
 her on the road, and fourteen miles of it before us. It 
 was a serious situation, but I was ripe for it now. All 
 the old women's stories and traditions about an elephant's 
 character had been driven out of me by experience and 
 washed out with blood. I had fathomed Elliot's art. I 
 had got what the French call the riddle-key of Made- 
 moiselle Djek, and that key was " steel !" 
 
 On we marched, the best of friends. There were a 
 number of little hills on the road, and as we mounted 
 one, a figure used to appear behind us on the crest of the 
 last between us and the sky : this was the gallant Pippin, 
 solicitous for his friend's fate, but desirous of not partak- 
 ing it if adverse. And still the worthy Djek and I
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 303 
 
 marched on the best of friends. About a mile out of the 
 town she put out her trunk and tried to curl it round me 
 in a caressing way. I met this overture by driving the 
 steel into her till the blood squirted out of her. If I had 
 not, the syren would have killed me in the course of the 
 next five minutes. Whenever she relaxed her speed I 
 drove the steel into her. When the afternoon sun smiled 
 gloriously on us and the poor thing felt nature stir in her 
 heart, and began to frisk in her awful clumsy way, 
 pounding the great globe, I drove the steel into her ; if 
 I had not, I should not be here to relate this sprightly 
 narrative. 
 
 Meantime, at , her stage-manager and financier 
 
 were in great distress and anxiety ; four o'clock, and no 
 elephant* At last they got so frightened, they came out 
 to meet us, and presently, to their amazement and de- 
 light, Djek strode up with her new general. Their ec- 
 stasy was great to think that the whole business was no 
 longer at a drunkard's mercy. " But how did you man- 
 age ? How ever did ye win her heart ?" " With this," 
 said I, and showed them the bloody steel. 
 
 We had not been in the town half an hour before Tom 
 and George came in. They were not so drunk but what 
 they trembled for their situations after my exploit, and 
 rolled and zigzagged after us as fast as they could. 
 
 By these means I rose from mademoiselle's slave to be 
 her friend and companion. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THIS feat kept my two drunkards in better order, and 
 revived my own dormant ambition. I used now to visit 
 her by myself, steel in hand, to feed her, etc., and scrape 
 acquaintance with her by every ^means steel in hand. 
 One day I was feeding her, when suddenly I thought a 
 house had fallen on me. I felt myself crashing against
 
 304 JACK OP ALL TEADES. 
 
 the door, and there I was lying upon it in the passage 
 with all the breath driven clean out of my body. Pip- 
 pin came and lifted me up and carried me into the air. 
 I thought I should have died before breath could get into 
 my lungs again. She had done this with a push from 
 the thick end of her proboscis. After a while I came to. 
 I had no sooner recovered my breath than I ran into the 
 stable, and came back with a pitchfork. Pippin saw my 
 intention, and implored me, for Heaven's sake, not to. I 
 would not listen to him : he flung his arms round me. I 
 threatened to turn the fork on him if he did not let me go. 
 
 " Hark !" said he ; and, sure enough, there she was 
 snorting and getting up her rage. " I know all about 
 that," said I ; " my death-warrant is drawn up, and if I 
 don't strike it will be signed. This is how she has felt 
 her way with all of them before she has killed them. I 
 have but one chance of life," said I, " and I won't throw 
 it away without a struggle." I opened the door, and, 
 with a mind full of misgivings, I walked quickly up to 
 her. I did not hesitate to raise the question which of us 
 two was to suffer, I knew that would not do. I sprang 
 upon her like a tiger, and drove the pitchfork into her 
 trunk. She gave a yell of dismay and turned a little 
 from me ; I drove the fork into her ear. 
 
 Then came out her real character. 
 
 She wheeled round, ran her head into a corner, stuck 
 out her great buttocks, and trembled all over like a leaf. 
 I stabbed her with all my force for half an hour till the 
 blood poured out of every square foot of her huge body, 
 and, during the operation, she would have crept into a 
 nutshell if she could. I filled her as full of holes as a 
 cloved orange. 
 
 The blood that trickled out of her saved mine ; and, 
 for the first time, I walked out of her shambles her 
 master. 
 
 One year and six months after we had landed at New 
 York to conquer another hemisphere, we turned tail and
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 305 
 
 sailed for England again. We had a prosperous voyage 
 with the exception of one accident. George Hinde, from 
 incessant brandy, had delirium tremens, and one night, 
 in a fit of it, he had just sense enough to see that he was 
 hardly to be trusted with the care of himself. "John," 
 said he to me, " tie me to this mast, hand and foot." I 
 demurred ; but he begged me for Heaven's sake, so I 
 bound him hand and foot as per order. This done, some 
 one called me down below, and while I was there it seems 
 George got very uncomfortable, and began to halloo and 
 complain. Up comes the captain sees a man lashed to 
 the mast. " What game is this ?" says he. " It is that 
 little blackguard John," says Hinde; "he caught me 
 sleeping against the mast, and took a mean advantage ; 
 do loose me, captain !" The captain made sure it was a 
 sea-jest, and loosed him with his own hands. " Thank 
 you, captain," says George, " you are a good fellow. God 
 bless you all!" and with these words he ran aft and 
 jumped into the sea. A Yankee sailor made a grab at 
 him and just touched his coat, but it was too late to save 
 him, and we were going before the wind ten knots an 
 hour. Thus George Hinde fell by brandy ; his kindred 
 spirit, old Tom, seemed ready to follow, without the help 
 of water, salt or fresh. This man's face was now a uni- 
 form color, white, with a scarce perceptible bluish-yel- 
 lowish tinge. He was a moving corpse. 
 
 Drink forever ! it makes men thieves, murderers, asses, 
 and paupers ; but what about that, so long as it sends 
 them to an early grave with " beast" for their friends to 
 write over their tomb-stones, unless they have a mind to 
 tell lies in a church-yard, and that is a common trick. 
 
 We arrived at the mouth of the Thames. 
 
 Some boats boarded us with fresh provisions and deli- 
 cacies ; among the rest, one I had not tasted for many a 
 day : it is called soft-tommy at sea, and on land bread. 
 The merchant stood on tiptoe and handed a loaf toward 
 me, and I leaned over the bulwarks and stretched down
 
 306 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 to him with a shilling in my hand. But, as ill luck would 
 have it, the shilling slipped from my fingers and fell. If 
 it had been some men's it would have fallen into the 
 boat, other's into the sea, slap ; but it was mine, and so 
 it fell on the boat's very rim, and then danced to its own 
 music into the water. I looked after it in silence; a 
 young lady, with whom I had made some little acquaint- 
 ance during the voyage, happened to be at my elbow, 
 and she laughed most merrily as the shilling went down. 
 I remember being astonished that she laughed. The 
 man still held out the bread, but I shook my head. " I 
 must go without now," said I ; the young lady was quite 
 surprised. "Why, it is worth a guinea," cried she. 
 "Yes, miss," said I, sheepishly, "but we can't always 
 have what we like, you see ; I ought to have held my 
 shilling tighter." 
 
 " Your shining," cries she. " Oh !" and she dashed 
 her hand into her pocket and took out her purse, and I 
 could see her beautiful white fingers tremble with eager- 
 ness as they dived among the coin. She soon bought 
 the loaf, and, as she handed it to me, I happened to look 
 in her face, and her cheek was red and her eyes quite 
 brimming. Her quick woman's heart had told her the 
 truth, that it was a well-dressed and tolerably well-be- 
 haved man's last shilling, and he returning after years of 
 travel to his native land. 
 
 I am sure, until the young lady felt for me, I thought 
 nothing of it ; I had been at my last shilling more than 
 once. But when I saw she thought it hard, I began to 
 think it was hard, and I remember the water came into 
 my own eyes. Heaven bless her, and may she never 
 want a shilling in her pocket, nor a kind heart near her 
 to show her the world is not all made of stone. 
 
 We had no money to pay our passage, and we found 
 Mr. Yates somewhat embarrassed. We had cost him a 
 thousand or two, and no return ; so while he wrote to 
 Mons. Huguet, that came to pass in England which we 
 had always just contrived to staye off abroad.
 
 JACK OP ALL TRADES. 307 
 
 The elephant was pawned. 
 
 And now I became of use to the proprietors. I ar- 
 ranged with the mortgagees, and they made the spout a 
 show-place. I used to exhibit her and her tricks, and 
 with the proceeds I fed her, and Elliot, and myself. 
 
 We had been three weeks in pledge, when, one fine 
 morning, as I was showing off seated on the elephant's 
 back, I heard a French exclamation of surprise and joy ; 
 I looked down, and there was M. Huguet. I came down 
 to him, and he, whose quick eye saw a way through me 
 out of drunken Elliot, gave a loose to his feelings, and 
 embraced me & la Franchise, " which made the common 
 people very much to admire," as the song has it ; also a 
 polite howl of derision greeted our Continental affection. 
 H. Huguet put his hand into his pocket, and we got out 
 of limbo, and were let loose upon suffering humanity 
 once more. 
 
 They talk as if English gold did every thing ; but it 
 was French gold bought us off, I know that, for I saw it 
 come out of his pocket. 
 
 As soon as we were redeemed we took an engagement 
 at Astley's, and, during this engagement, cadaverous 
 Tom, finding we could master her, used to attend less 
 and less to her, and more and more to brandy. 
 
 A certain baker, who brought her loaves every morn- 
 ing for breakfast, used to ask me to let him feed her 
 himself. He admired her, and took this way of making 
 her fond of him. One day I had left these two friends 
 and their loaves together for a minute, when I heard a 
 fearful cry. I knew the sound too well by this time, and, 
 as I ran back, I had the sense to halloo at her : this saved 
 the man's life. At the sound of my voice she dropped 
 him from a height of about twelve feet, and he rolled 
 away like a ball of worsted. I dashed in, up with the 
 pitchfork, and into her like lightning, and, while the 
 blood was squirting out of her from a hundred little 
 prong-holes, the poor baker limped away.
 
 308 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 Any gentleman or lady who wishes to know how a 
 man feels when seized by an elephant, preparatory to be- 
 ing squelched, can consult this person ; he is a respect- 
 able tradesman ; his name is Johns ; he lives near Ast- 
 ley's Theatre, or used to, and for obvious reasons can tell 
 you this one anecdote out of many such better than I 
 can ; that is if he has not forgotten it, and I dare say he 
 hasrit ask him ! 
 
 After Astley's, Drury Lane engaged us to play second 
 to the Lions of Mysore ; rather a down-come ; but we 
 went. In this theatre we behaved wonderfully. Not- 
 withstanding the number of people continually buzzing 
 about us, we kept our temper, and did not smash a single 
 one of these human gnats, so trying to our little female 
 irritability and feeble nerves. The only thing we did 
 wrong was, we broke through a granite mountain and 
 fell down on to the plains, and hurt our knee, and broke 
 one super only one. 
 
 The Lions of Mysore went a starring to Liverpool, and 
 we accompanied them. While we were there the chol- 
 era broke out in England, and M. Huguet summoned us 
 hastily to France. We brushed our hats, put on our 
 gloves, and walked at one stretch from Liverpool to 
 Dover. There we embarked for Boulogne : Djek, cadav- 
 erous Tom, wolf-skin-lamb Pippin, and myself. I was 
 now in Huguet's service at fifty francs a week as coad- 
 jutor and successor of cadaverous Tom, whose demise 
 was hourly expected even by us who were hardened by 
 use to his appearance, which was that of the ghost of 
 delirium tremens. We arrived off Boulogne Pier ; but 
 there we were boarded by men in uniforms and mus- 
 taches, and questions put about the cholera, which dis- 
 ease the civic authorities of Boulogne were determined 
 to keep on the other side of the Channel. The captain's 
 answer proving satisfactory, we were allowed to run into 
 the port. 
 
 In landing any where Djek and her attendants had al-
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 309 
 
 ways to wait till the other passengers had got clear, and 
 we did so on this occasion. At length our turn came ; 
 but we had no sooner crossed the gangway and touched 
 French ground than a movement took place on the quay, 
 and a lot of bayonets bristled in our faces, and " Halte 
 Ik!" was the word. We begged an explanation; in 
 answer, an officer glared with eyes like saucers, and 
 pointed with his finger at Elliot. The truth flashed on 
 us. The Frenchmen were afraid of cholera coming over 
 from England, and here was a man who looked plague, 
 cholera, or death himself in person. We remonstrated 
 through an interpreter, but Tom's face was not to be re- 
 futed by words. Some were for sending us back home 
 to so diseased a country as this article must have come 
 out of; but milder measures prevailed. They set apart 
 for our use a little corner of the quay, and there they 
 roped us in and sentineled us. And so for four days, in 
 the polished kingdom of France, we dwelt in a hut ruder 
 far than any on the banks of the Ohio. Prink forever ! 
 At last, as Tom Coffin got neither a worse nor a better 
 color, they listened to reason, and let us loose upon the 
 nation at large, and away we tramped for Paris. 
 
 Tunes were changed with us in one respect : we no 
 longer marched to certain victory ; our long ill-success 
 in America had lessened our arrogance, and we crept 
 along toward Paris. But, luckily for us, we had now a 
 presiding head, and a good one. The soul of business is 
 puffing, and no man puffed better than our chief, M. 
 Huguet. Half way between Boulogne and Paris we 
 were met by a cavalier carrying our instructions how we 
 were to enter Paris ; and, arrived at St. Denis, instead 
 of going straight on, we skirted the town, and made our 
 formal entry by the Bois de Boulogne and the Arch of 
 Triumph. Huguet had come to terms with Franconi, 
 and, to give Djek's engagement more importance, Fran- 
 coni's whole troop were ordered out to meet us and 
 escort us in. They paraded up and down the Champs
 
 310 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 
 
 Elysees first, to excite attention and inquiry, and, when 
 the public were fairly agog, our cavalcade formed out- 
 side the barrier, and came glittering and prancing through 
 the arch. An elephant has her ups and downs like the 
 rest. Djek, the despised of Kentucky and Virginia, burst 
 on Paris the centre of a shining throng. Franconi's 
 bright amazons and exquisite cavaliers rode to and fro 
 our line, carrying sham messages with earnest faces ; 
 Djek was bedecked with ribbons, and seemed to tread 
 more majestically, and our own hearts beat higher, as, 
 amid grace, and beauty, and pomp, sun shining hats 
 waving feathers bending mob cheering trumpets 
 crowing and flints striking fire, we strode proudly into 
 the great city, the capital of pleasure. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THESE were bright days to me. I was set over old 
 Tom fancy that; and my salary doubled his. I had 
 fifty francs a week, and cleared as much more by show- 
 ing her privately in her stable. 
 
 Money melts in London it evaporates in Paris. Pip- 
 pin was a great favorite both with men and women be- 
 hind the scenes at Franconi's. He introduced me to 
 charming companions of both sexes; gayety reigned, 
 and tin and morals " made themselves air, into which 
 they vanished," Shakspeare. 
 
 Toward the close of her engagement Djek made one 
 of her mistakes ; she up with her rightful heir and broke 
 his ribs against the side scenes. 
 
 We nearly had to stop her performances; we could 
 not mend our rightful heir by next night, and substitutes 
 did not pour in. " I won't go on with her," " I won't 
 play with her," was a cry that even the humblest and 
 neediest began to raise. I am happy to say that she was 
 not under my superintendence when this rightful heir 
 oarnc to erricf.
 
 JACK OF ALT, TRADES. 311 
 
 And now the cholera came to Paris, and theatricals of 
 all sorts declined, for there was a real tragedy playing in 
 every street. The deaths were very numerous and aw- 
 fully sudden ; people were struck down in the streets as 
 if by lightning ; gloom and terror hung over all. 
 
 When this terrible disease is better known it will be 
 found to be of the nature of strong poison, and its cure, 
 if any, will be strychnine, belladonna, or, likelier still, 
 some quick and deadly mineral poison that kills the 
 healthy with cramps and discoloration. 
 
 In its rapid form cholera is not to be told from quick 
 poison, and hence sprung up among the lower order in 
 Paris a notion that wholesale poisoning was on foot. 
 
 Pippin and I were standing at the door of a wine-shop 
 waiting for our change. His wild appearance attracted 
 first one and then another. Little knots of people col- 
 lected and eyed us ; then they began to talk and mur- 
 mur, and cast suspicious glances. " Come away," said 
 Pippin, rather hastily. We walked off; they walked 
 after us, increasing like a snowball, and they murmured 
 louder and louder. I asked Pippin what the fools were 
 gabbling about. He told me they suspected us of being 
 the poisoners. At this I turned round, and, being five 
 feet four, and English, was for punching some of their 
 heads ; but the athletic pacific Italian would not hear of - 
 it, much less co-operate; and now they surrounded us 
 just at the corner of one of the bridges, lashing them- 
 selves into a fury, and looking first at us, and then at the 
 river below. Pippin was as white as death, and I thought 
 it was all up myself, when by good luck a troop of mount- 
 ed gendarmes issued from the palace. Pippin hailed them ; 
 they came up, and, after hearing both sides, took us un- 
 der their protection, and off we marched between two 
 files of cavalry, followed by the curses of a superficial 
 populace. Extremes don't do. Pippin was the color of 
 ink, Elliot of paper ; both their mugs fell under suspicion, 
 and nearly brought us to grief.
 
 312 JACK OF ALL TBADES. 
 
 Franconi closed, and Djek, Huguet, and Co. started on 
 a provincial tour. 
 
 They associated themselves on this occasion with Mich- 
 elet, who had some small wild animals, such as lions, tigers, 
 and leopards. 
 
 Our first move was to Versailles. Here we built a 
 show-place and exhibited Djek, not as an actress, but as 
 a private elephant, in which capacity she did the usual 
 elephant business, besides a trick or two that most of 
 them have not brains enough for, whereof anon. 
 
 Michelet was the predecessor of Van Amburgh and 
 Carter, and did every thing they do a dozen years be- 
 fore they were ever heard of; used to go into the lions' 
 den, pull them about, and put his head down their throats, 
 and their paws round his neck, etc., etc. 
 
 I observed this man, and learned something from him. 
 Besides that general quickness and decision which is 
 necessary with wild animals, I noticed that he was al- 
 ways on the look-out for mischief, and always punished 
 it before it came. Another point, he always attacked 
 the offending part, and so met the evil in front ; for in- 
 stance, if one of his darlings curled a lip and showed a 
 tooth, he hit him over the mouth that moment and no- 
 where else ; if one elongated a claw, he hit him over the 
 foot like lightning. He read the whole crew as I had 
 learned to read Djek, and conquered their malice by 
 means of that marvelous cowardice which they all show 
 if they can see no sign of it in you. 
 
 There are no two ways with wild beasts. If there is 
 a single white spot in your heart, leave them, for your 
 life will be in danger every moment. If you can despise 
 them, and keep the rod always in sight, they are your 
 humble servants ; nobody more so. 
 
 Our exhibition, successful at first, began to flag; so 
 then the fertile brain of M. Huguet had to work. He 
 proposed to his partner to stand a tiger and he would 
 stand a bull, and " we will have a joint-stock fight like
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 313 
 
 the King of Oude." Michelet had his misgivings, but 
 Huguet overruled him. That ingenious gentleman then 
 printed bills advertising for a certain day a fight between 
 a real Bengal tiger and a ferocious bull that had just 
 gored a man to death. This done, he sent me round the 
 villages to find and hire a bull. " Mind you get a mild 
 one, or I shall have to pay for a hole in the tiger's leath- 
 er." I found one which the owner consented to risk for 
 so much money down, and the damage he should sustain 
 from tiger to be valued independently by two farmers 
 after the battle. 
 
 The morning of the fight Pippin and I went for our 
 bull, and took him out of the yard toward Versailles ; 
 but when we had gone about two hundred yards, he be- 
 came uneasy, looked round, sniffed about, and finally 
 turned round spite of all our efforts, and paced home 
 again. We remonstrated with the proprietor. "Oh," 
 said he, " I forgot ; he won't start without the wench." 
 So the wench in question was sent for (his companion 
 upon amatory excursions). She went with us, and launch- 
 ed us toward Versailles. This done, she returned home, 
 and we marched on ; but before we had gone a furlong 
 Taurus showed symptoms of uneasiness ; these increased, 
 and at last he turned round and walked tranquilly home. 
 We hung upon him, thrashed him, and bullied him, all to 
 no purpose. His countenance was placid, but his soul 
 resolved, and he walked home, slowly, but inevitably ; 
 so, then, there was nothing for it but to let him have the 
 wench all the way to the tiger, and she would not go to 
 Versailles till she had put on some new finery short 
 waist, coal-scuttle bonnet, etc. More time lost with that ; 
 and, when we did arrive in the arena, the spectators were 
 tired of waiting. The bull stood in the middle, confused 
 and stupid. The tiger was in his cage in a corner ; we 
 gave him time to observe his prey, and then we opened 
 the door of his cage. 
 
 A shiver ran through the audience (they wore all seat- 
 ed in boxes looking down on the area).
 
 314 JACK OF AT.T. TRADES. 
 
 A moment more, and the furious animal would spring 
 upon his victim, and his fangs and claws sink deep into 
 its neck, etc., etc. Vide books of travels. 
 
 One moment succeeded to another, and nothing oc- 
 curred. The ferocious animal lay quiet in his cage, and 
 showed no sign ; so then we poked the ferocious animal. 
 He snarled, but would not venture out. When this had 
 lasted a long time, the spectators began to doubt his 
 ferocity, and to goose the ferocious animal. So I got a 
 red-hot iron and nagged him behind. He gave a yell 
 of dismay, and went into the arena like a shot. He took 
 no notice of the bull. All he thought of was escape 
 from the horrors that surrounded him. Winged by ter- 
 ror, he gave a tremendous spring, and landed his fore- 
 paws on the boxes, stuck fast, and glared in at the spec- 
 tators. They rushed out yelling. He dug his hind-claws 
 into the wood-work, and by slow and painful degrees 
 clambered into the boxes. When he got in the young 
 and active were gone home, and he ran down the stairs 
 among the old people that could not get clear so quick 
 as the rest. He was so frightened at the people that he 
 skulked and hid himself hi a corn-field, and the people 
 were so frightened at him that they ran home and lock- 
 ed their street doors. So one coward made many. 
 
 They thought the poor wretch had attacked them, and 
 the journal next day maintained this view of the transac- 
 tion, and the town to this day believes it. We netted 
 our striped coward with four shutters, and kicked him 
 into his cage. 
 
 The bull went home with "the wench," and to this 
 day his thick skull has never comprehended what the 
 deuce he went to Versailles for. 
 
 This was how we competed with Oriental monarchs. 
 
 We marched southward, through Orleans, Tours, etc., 
 to Bordeaux, and were pretty well received hi all these 
 places except at one small place whose name I forget. 
 Here they hissed her out of the town at sight. It turn-
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 315 
 
 ed out she had been there before and pulverized a brush- 
 maker, a popular man among them. 
 
 Soon after Bordeaux she had words with the lions. 
 They, in their infernal conceit, thought themselves more 
 attractive than Djek. It is vice versa, and by a long 
 chalk, said Djek and Co. The parties growled a bit, 
 then parted to meet no more in this world. 
 
 From Bordeaux we returned by another route to Par- 
 is ; for we were only starring it in the interval of our en- 
 gagement as an actress with Franconi. We started one 
 
 morning from with light hearts, our faces turned 
 
 toward the gay city, Elliot, Pippin, and I. Elliot and I 
 walked by the side of the elephant, Pippin walking some 
 forty yards hi the rear. He never trusted himself nearer 
 *o her on a march. 
 
 We were plodding along in this order, when, all in a 
 moment, without reason or warning of any sort, she spun 
 round between us on one heel like a thing turning on a 
 pivot, and strode back like lightning at Pippin. He 
 screamed and ran; but, before he could take a dozen 
 steps, she was upon him, and struck him down with her 
 trunk and trampled upon him ; she then wheeled round 
 and trudged back as if she had merely stopped to brush 
 off a fly or pick up a stone. After the first moment of 
 stupefaction, both Elliot and I had run after her with all 
 the speed we had ; but so rapid was her movement, and 
 so instantaneous the work of death, that we only met her 
 on her return from her victim. I will not shock the 
 reader by describing the state in which we found our 
 poor comrade ; but he was crushed to death. He never 
 spoke, and I believe and trust he never felt any thing for 
 the few minutes that breath lingered in his body. We 
 kneeled down and raised him, and spoke to him, but he 
 could not hear us. When Djek got her will of one of 
 us, all our hope used to be to see the man die ; and so it 
 was with poor dear Pippin ; mangled, and life impossible, 
 we kneeled down and prayed to God for his death ; and,
 
 316 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 by Heaven's mercy, I think in about four minutes from 
 the time he got his death-blow his spirit passed away, 
 and our well-beloved comrade and friend was nothing 
 now but a lump of clay on our hands. 
 
 We were some miles from any town or village, and did 
 not know what to do, and how to take him to a resting- 
 place. At last we were obliged to tie the body across 
 the proboscis, and cover it as well as we could, and so 
 we made his murderess carry him to the little town of 
 La Palice yes, La Palice. Here we stopped, and a sort 
 of inquest was held, and M. Huguet attended and told 
 the old story ; said the man had been cruel to her, and 
 she had put up with it as long as she could. Verdict 
 "Served him right;" and so we lied over our poor 
 friend's murdered body, and buried him with many sighs 
 in the little church-yard of La Palice, and then trudged 
 on, sad and downcast, toward the gay capital. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 I THUTK a lesson is to be learned from this sad story. 
 Too much fear is not prudence. Had poor Pippin walk- 
 ed with Elliot and me alongside the elephant, she dared 
 not have attacked him. But through fear he kept forty 
 yards in the rear, and she saw a chance to get him by 
 himself; and, from my knowledge of her, I have little 
 doubt she had meditated this attempt for months before 
 she carried it out. Poor Pippin ! 
 
 We arrived in Paris to play with Franconi. Now it 
 happened to be inconvenient to Franconi to fulfill his en- 
 gagement. He accordingly declined us. M. Huguet was 
 angry threatened legal proceedings. Franconi answer- 
 ed, " Where is Pippin ?" Huguet shut up. Then Fran- 
 coni followed suit ; if hard pressed, he threatened to de- 
 clare in open court that it was out of humanity alone he 
 declined to fulfill his engagement. This stopped M.
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 317 
 
 Huguet's mouth altogether. He took a place on the 
 Boulevard, and we showed her and her tricks at three 
 prices, and did a rattling business. Before we had been 
 a fortnight in Paris old Tom Elliot died at the Hospital 
 Dubois, and I became her vizier at a salary of one hund- 
 red francs per week. 
 
 Having now the sole responsibility, I watched her as 
 you would a powder-magazine lighted by gas. I let no- 
 body but M. Huguet go near her in my absence. This 
 gentleman continued to keep her sweet on him with 
 lumps of sugar, and to act as her showman when she ex- 
 hibited publicly. 
 
 One day we had a message from the Tuileries, and we 
 got the place extra clean ; and the king's children paid 
 her a visit a lot of little chaps. I did not know their 
 names, but I suppose it was Prince Joinville, Aumale, 
 and cetera. All I know is that while these little Louis 
 Philippes were coaxing her, and feeding her, and cutting 
 about her, and sliding down her, and I was telling them 
 she was a duck, the perspiration was running down my 
 back one moment and cold shivers the next, and I thank- 
 ed Heaven devoutly when the young gents went back 
 to their papa and mamma and no bones broken. The 
 young gentlemen reported her affability and my lies to 
 the king, and he engaged her to perform gratis in the 
 Champs Elysees during the three days' fete. Fifteen 
 hundred francs for this. 
 
 But Huguet was penny wise and pound foolish to 
 agree, for it took her gloss off. Showed her gratis to 
 half the city. 
 
 Among Djek's visitors came one day a pretty young 
 lady, a nursery governess to some nobleman's children, 
 whose name I forget, but he was English. The children 
 were highly amused with Djek, and quite loth to go. 
 The young lady, who had a smattering of English as I 
 had of French, put several questions to me. I answered 
 them more polite than usual on account of her being
 
 318 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 pretty, and I used a privilege I had and gave her an 
 order for free admission some other day. She came, 
 with only one child, which luckily was one of those deep- 
 ly meditative ones that occur but rarely, and only bring 
 out a word every half hour ; so mademoiselle and I had 
 a chat, which I found so agreeable that I rather neglect- 
 ed the general public for her. I made it my business to 
 learn where she aired the children, and, one vacant morn- 
 ing, dressed in the top of the fashion, I stood before her 
 in the garden of the Tuileries. She gave a half start 
 and a blush, and seemed very much struck with astonish- 
 ment at this rencounter. She was a little less astonished 
 next week when the same thing happened, but still she 
 thought these coincidences remarkable, and said so. In 
 
 short, I paid my addresses to Mademoiselle . She 
 
 was a charming brunette from Geneva, greatly my supe- 
 rior in education and station. I was perfectly conscious 
 of this, and instantly made this calculation : " All the 
 better for me if I can win her." But the reader knows 
 my character by this time, and must have observed how 
 large a portion of it effrontery forms. I wrote to her 
 every day, sometimes in the French language no, not 
 in the French language, in French words. She some- 
 times answered in English words. She was very pretty 
 and very interesting, and I fancied her. When a man is 
 in love he can hardly see" difficulties. I pressed her to 
 marry me, and I believed she would consent. When I 
 came to this point the young lady's gayety declined, and 
 when I was painting her pictures of our conjugal happi- 
 ness, she used to sigh instead of brightening at the pic- 
 ture. At last I pressed her so hard that she consented 
 to write to Geneva and ask her parents' consent to our 
 union. When the letter went I was in towering spirits. 
 I was now in the zenith of my prosperity. The risks I 
 had run with Djek were rewarded by a heavy salary and 
 the post of honor near her, and, now that I was a little 
 weary of roaming the world alone with an elephant, fate
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 319 
 
 had thrown in my way a charming companion who would 
 cheer the weary road. 
 
 Dreams. 
 
 The old people at Geneva saw my position with an- 
 other eye. "He is a servant liable to lose his place at 
 any moment by any one of a hundred accidents, and his 
 profession is a discreditable one: why, he is a show- 
 man." 
 
 They told her all this in language so plain that she 
 would never show me the letter. I was for defying their 
 advice and authority, but she would not hear of it. I 
 was forced to temporize. " In a month's time," said I to 
 myself, " her scruples will melt away." But in less than 
 a fortnight the order came for us to march into Flanders. 
 I communicated this cruel order to my sweetheart. She 
 turned pale, and made no secret of her attachment to 
 me, and of the pain she felt at parting. Every evening 
 before we left Paris I saw her, and implored her to trust 
 herself to me and leave Paris as my wife. She used to 
 smile at my pictures of wedded happiness, and cry the 
 next minute because she dared not give herself and me 
 that happiness; but, with all this, she was firm, and 
 would not fly hi her parents' face. 
 
 At last came a sad and bitter hour : hat in hand, as 
 the saying is, I made a last desperate endeavor to per- 
 suade her to be mine, and not to let this parting take 
 place at all. She was much agitated, but firm ; and, the 
 more I said, the firmer she became. So at last I grew 
 frantic and reproached her. I called her a cold-hearted 
 coquette, and we parted in anger and despair. 
 
 Away into the wide world again, not, as I used to 
 start on these pilgrimages, with a stout heart and iron 
 nerves, but cold, and weary, and worn out before the 
 journey had begun. As we left Paris behind us I had 
 but one feeling, that the best of life was at an end for 
 me. My limbs took me along like machinery, but my 
 heart was a lump of ice inside me, and I would have
 
 '3'20 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 thanked any man for knocking me on the head and end- 
 ing the monotonous farce of my existence ; ay, gentle- 
 folks, even a poor mechanic can feel like this when the 
 desire of his heart is balked forever. 
 
 Trudge ! trudge ! trudge ! forever and ever. 
 
 Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! forever and ever. 
 . A man gets faint and weary of it at last, and there 
 comes a time when he pines for a hearth-stone, and a 
 voice he can believe, a part, at least, of what it says, and 
 a Sunday of some sort now and then ; and my time was 
 come to long for these things, and for a pretty and hon- 
 est face about me to stand for the one bit of peace and 
 the one bit of truth in my vagabond charlatan life. 
 
 I lost my appetite and sleep, and was very nearly los- 
 ing heart altogether. My clothes hung about me like 
 bags, I got so thin. It was my infernal occupation that 
 cured me, after all. Djek gave me no time even for de- 
 spair. The moment I became her sole guardian I had 
 sworn on my knees she should never kill another man; 
 judge whether I had to look sharp after her to keep the 
 biped from perjury and the quadruped from murder. I 
 slept with her rose early fed her walked twenty 
 miles with her, or exhibited her all day, sometimes did 
 both, and at night rolled into the straw beside her too 
 deadly tired to feel all my unhappiness; and so, after 
 a while, time and toil blunted my sense of disappoint- 
 ment, and I trudged, and tramped, and praised Djek's 
 moral qualities in the old routine. Only now and then, 
 when I saw the country lads in France or Belgium going 
 to church dressed in their best with their sweethearts, 
 and I in prison in the stable with my four-legged hussy, 
 waiting perhaps till dark to steal out and march to some 
 fresh town, I used to feel as heavy as lead and as bitter 
 as wormwood, and wish we were all dead together by 
 way of a change. 
 
 A man needs a stout heart to go through the world 
 at all, but most of all he needs it for a roving life ; don't 
 you believe any other, no matter who tells you.
 
 JACK OF ALL TKADES. . 321 
 
 With this brief notice of my feelings I pass over two 
 months' travel. All through I spare the reader much, 
 though I dare say he doesn't see it. 
 
 Sir, the very names of the places I have visited would 
 fill an old-fashioned map of Europe. 
 
 Talk of Ulysses and his travels! he never saw the 
 tenth part of what I have gone through. 
 
 I have walked with Djek farther than round the world 
 during the eleven years I have trudged beside her : it is 
 only 24,000 miles round the world. 
 
 After a year's pilgrimage we found ourselves at Don- 
 cheray, near Sedan. 
 
 Here we had an incident. Mons. Huguet was showing 
 her to the public with the air of a prince and in his 
 Mare'chal of France costume, glittering with his theatric- 
 al cross of the Legion of Honor. He was not particular 
 what he put on, so that it shone and looked well. He 
 sent me for something connected with the performance 
 a pistol, I think. I had hardly ten steps to go, but 
 during the time I was out of her sight I heard a man cry 
 out and the elephant snort. I ran back hallooing as I 
 came. As I ran in I found the elephant feeling for some- 
 thing in the straw with her foot, and the people rushing 
 out of the doors in dismay. The moment she saw me 
 she affected innocence, but trembled from head to foot. 
 I drew out from the straw a thing you would have taken 
 for a scarecrow or a bundle of rags. It was my master, 
 M. Huguet, his glossy hat battered, his glossy coat stain- 
 ed and torn, and his arm broken in two places : a mo- 
 ment more and her foot would have been on him, and his 
 soul crushed out of his body. 
 
 The people were surprised when they saw the furious 
 snorting monster creep into a corner to escape a little 
 fellow five .feet four, who got to the old weapon, pitch- 
 fork, and .drove it into every part of her but her head. 
 She hid that in the corner the moment she saw blood in 
 my eye. 
 
 02
 
 322 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 
 
 We got poor M. Huguet to bed, and a doctor from.the 
 hospital to him, and a sorrowful time he had of it ; and 
 so, after standing good for twelve years, lump sugar fell 
 to the ground. Pitchfork held good. 
 
 At night more than a hundred people came to see 
 whether I was really so hardy as to sleep with this fero- 
 cious animal. To show them my sense of her, I lay down 
 between her legs. On this she lifted her fore-feet singly, 
 and with the utmost care and delicacy drew them back 
 over my body. 
 
 As soon as M. Huguet's arm was set and doing well, 
 he followed us (we had got into France by this time), 
 and came in along with the public to admire us, and, to 
 learn how the elephant stood affected toward him now, 
 he cried out, in his most ingratiating way in sugared 
 tones "Djek, my boy! Djek!" At this sound Djek 
 raised a roar of the most infernal rage, and Huguet, who 
 knew her real character well enough, though he pretend- 
 ed not to, comprehended that her heart was now set upon 
 his extinction, malgre' twelve years of lump sugar. 
 
 He sent for me, and with many expressions of friend- 
 ship offered me the invaluable animal for thirty thousand 
 francs. I declined her without thanks. " Then I shall 
 have the pleasure of killing her to-morrow," said the 
 Frenchman, " and what will become of your salary, mon 
 pauvre garc. on ?" 
 
 In short, he had me in a fix, and used his power. I 
 bought her of him for 20,000 francs, to be paid by install- 
 ments. I gave him the first installment, a five-franc piece, 
 and walked out of the wine-shop her sole proprietor. 
 
 The sense of property is pleasant, even when we have 
 not paid for the article. 
 
 That night I formed my plans. There was no time to 
 lose, because I had only a thousand francs in the world, 
 and she ate a thousand francs a week, or nearly. I de- 
 termined to try Germany a poor country, but one which, 
 being quite inland, could not have become callous to an
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 323 
 
 elephant, perhaps had never seen one. I shall never for- 
 get the fine, clear morning I started on my own account. 
 The sun was just rising, the birds were tuning, and all 
 manner of sweet smells came from the fields and the 
 hedges. Djek seemed to- step out more majestically than 
 when she was another man's : my heart beat high. Elev- 
 en years ago I had started the meanest of her slaves. I 
 had worked slowly, painfully, but steadily up, and now I 
 was actually her lord and master, and half the world be- 
 fore me with the sun shining on it. 
 
 The first town I showed her at as mine was Verdun, and 
 
 the next day I wrote to Mademoiselle at Paris to 
 
 tell her of the change in my fortunes. This was the only 
 letter I had sent, for we parted bad friends. I received 
 a kinder answer than the abrupt tone of my letter de- 
 served. She congratulated me, and thanked me for re- 
 membering that whatever good fortune befell me must 
 give her particular pleasure, and in the postscript she 
 told me she was just about to leave Paris and return to 
 her parents in Switzerland. 
 
 Djek crossed into Prussia, tramped that country, and 
 penetrated into the heart of Germany. As I had hoped, 
 she descended on this nation with all the charm of nov- 
 elty, and used to clear the copper* out of a whole vil- 
 lage. I remember early in this trip being at a country 
 inn. I saw rustics, male and female, dressed in their Sun- 
 day clothes, coming over the hills from every side to one 
 point. I thought there must be a fair or something. I 
 asked the landlord what they were all coming for. He 
 said, " Why, you, to be sure." They never saw such a 
 thing in their lives, and never will again. 
 
 In fact, at one or two small places we were stopped 
 by the authorities, who had heard that we carried more 
 specie out of little towns than the circulating medium 
 would bear. 
 
 * Germany is mostly made of copper. A bucketful of farthings 
 was a common thing for me to have in my carriage.
 
 324 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 
 
 In short, my first coup was successful. After six 
 months' Germany, Bavaria, Prussia, etc., I returned to 
 the Rhine at Strasbourg with eight thousand francs. 
 During all this time she never hurt a soul, I watched her 
 so fearfully close. So, being debarred from murder, she 
 tried arson. 
 
 At a place in Bavaria her shed was suddenly observed 
 to be in flames, and we saved her with difficulty. 
 
 The cause never transpired until now, but I saw di- 
 rectly how it had been done. I had unwarily left my 
 coat in her way. The pockets were found emptied of all 
 their contents, among which was a lucifer-box, fragments 
 of which I found among the straw. She had played with 
 this in her trunk, hammering it backward and forward 
 against her knee, dropping the lighted matches into the 
 straw, when they stung her, and very nearly roasted her 
 own beef, the mischievous, uneasy devil. 
 
 My readers will not travel with an elephant, but busi- 
 ness of some sort will fall to the lot of some of them soon 
 or late, and, as charlatanry is the very soul of modern 
 business, it may not be amiss to show how the humble 
 artisan worked his elephant. 
 
 We never allowed ourselves to drop casually, upon any 
 place, like a shower of rain. 
 
 A man in bright livery, green and gold, mounted on a 
 showy horse, used to ride into the town or village, and 
 go round to all the kins, making loud inquiries about 
 their means of accommodation for the elephant and her 
 train. Four hours after him, thf people being now a 
 little agog, another green and g^f - - man came in on a 
 trained horse, and inquired for No. 1* As soon as he had 
 found him, the two rode together round the town No. 
 2 blowing a trumpet and proclaiming the elephant ; the 
 nations she had instructed in the wonders of nature ; the 
 Icings she had amused ; her grandeur, her intelligence, 
 and, above all, her dove-like disposition. 
 
 This was allowed to ferment for some hours, and, when
 
 JACK OK ALL TRADES. 3i>5 
 
 expectation was at its height, the rest of the cavalcade 
 used to heave in sight, Djek bringing up the rear. Ar- 
 rived, I used to shut her hi out of sight, and send all my 
 men and horses round, parading, trumpeting, and pasting 
 bills, so that at last the people were quite ripe for her, 
 and then we went to work ; and thus the humble artisan 
 and his elephant cut a greater dash than lions, and tigers, 
 and mountebanks, and quacks, and drew more money. 
 
 Here is one of my programmes ; only I must remark 
 that I picked up my French, where I picked up the sin- 
 cerity it embodies, in the circuses, coulisses, and cabarets 
 of French towns, so that I can patter French as fast as 
 you like ; but, of course, I know no more about it than a 
 pig not to really know it. 
 
 Par permission de M. le Haire, 
 
 Le grand 
 
 ELEPHANT 
 
 du Roi de Siam, 
 
 Du Cirque Olympique Franconi. 
 
 Mile. Djek, 
 
 Elephant colossal, de onze pieds de hauteur et du poids 
 de neuf mille liv., est le plus grand eldphant qui 1'on 
 ait vti en Europe. 
 
 M. H. B. Lott, naturaliste, pourvoyeur des menageries 
 des diverses cours d'Europe, actionnaire du Cirque Olym- 
 pique et proprietaire de ce magnifique elephant, qu'il a 
 dresse au point de le p^senter au public dans une piece 
 theatrale qui fut cre^ ^^t&ur Madlle. Djek il y a trois ans 
 et demi, et qui a ei in si grand succes, sous le nom de 
 1'Elephant du Roi de Siam. 
 
 Le proprietaire, dans son voyage autour du monde, eut 
 occasion d'acheter cet enorme quadrupede, qui le prit en 
 affection, et qui, depuis onze ans qu'il le possede, ne s'est 
 jamais dementi, se plait a ecouter son maitre et execute 
 avec punctualite tout ce qu'il lui indique de faire.
 
 326 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 Mile. Djek, qui est dans toute la force de sa taille, a 
 maintenant cent vingt-cinq ans; elle a onze pieds de 
 hauteur et pese neuf mille livres. 
 
 Sa consommation dans les vingt-quatre heures excede 
 deux cent livres quarante livres de pain pour son de- 
 jeuner ; a midi, du son et de 1'avoine ; le soir, des pommes 
 de terre ou du rizcuit ; et la nuit du foin et de la paille. 
 
 C'est le meme elephant qui a combattu la lionne de M. 
 Martin. Cette lionne en furie, qu'une imprudence fit 
 sortir de sa cage, s'elance sur M. H. B. Lott qui se trou- 
 vait aupres de son elephant; voyant le danger il se 
 refugie derriere une des jambes de ce bon animal, qui 
 releve sa trompe pour le proteger.* La lionne allait 
 saisir M. H. B. Lott ; 1' elephant la voit, rabat sa trompe, 
 1'enveloppe, 1'etouffe, la jette au loin, et I'aurait ecrasee, 
 si son maitre ne lui eut dit de ne pas continuer. 
 
 Elle a ensuite allonge sa trompe, frappe du pied, criant 
 et temoignant la satisfaction, qu'elle eprouvait d'avoir 
 sauve son ami d'une mort certaine, comme on a pu voir 
 dans les journaux en fevrier 1832. 
 
 Dans les cours des seances, on lui fera faire tous ses 
 grands exercices qui sont dignes d'admiration, dont le 
 grand nombre ne permet pas d'en donner 1'analyse dans 
 cette affiche, et qu'il faut voir pour 1'en faire une idee 
 juste. 
 
 Prix d' entree: Premieres Secondes Les 
 
 militaires et les enfants, moitie. 
 
 I don't think but what my countrymen will understand 
 every word of the above ; but, as there are a great num- 
 ber of Frenchmen in London who will read this, I think 
 it would look unkind not to translate it into English for 
 their benefit. 
 
 * I am a dull fellow now, as you see. But you must allow I have 
 been a man of imagination.
 
 .lAc'K OF AJvL TRADES. 327 
 
 By permission of the Worshipful the Mayor, 
 
 the great 
 
 ELEPHANT 
 
 of the King of Siam, 
 
 from Franconi's Olympic Circus. 
 
 Mademoiselle Djek, 
 
 Colossal Elephant, eleven feet high and weighs nine 
 thousand pounds. The largest elephant ever seen in 
 Europe. 
 
 Mr. H. B. Lott, naturalist, who supplies the menageries 
 of the various courts of Europe, shareholder in the Olym- 
 pic Circus, and proprietor of this magnificent elephant, 
 which he has trained to such a height that he will pre- 
 sent her to the public in a dramatic piece which was 
 written for her three years and a half ago, and had a 
 great success under the title of the Elephant of the King 
 of Siam.* 
 
 The proprietor, in his voyage round the globe, was for- 
 tunate enough to purchase this enormous quadruped, 
 which became attached to him, and has been eleven years 
 in his possession, during which time she has never once 
 forgotten herself, and executes with obedient zeal what- 
 ever he bids her. 
 
 Mdlle. Djek has now arrived at her full growth, being 
 one hundred and twenty-five years of age : she is eleven 
 feet high, and weighs nine thousand pounds. Her daily 
 consumption exceeds two hundred pounds. She takes 
 forty pounds of bread for her breakfast, at noon barley 
 and oats, in the evening potatoes or rice cooked, and at 
 night hay and straw. 
 
 This is the same elephant that fought with Mr. Mar- 
 
 * My literary gent and me nearly had words over this bit. " Why, 
 it is all nominative case," says he. " Well," says I, "you can't have 
 too much of a good thing. Can you better it?" says I. "Better 
 it?" says he ; " why, I could not have come within a mile of it ;" and 
 he grinned. So I shut him up for once.
 
 328 JACK OF ALL TKADKS. 
 
 tin's lioness. The lioness, whom the carelessness of the 
 attendants allowed to escape from her cage, dashed furi- 
 ously at Mr. H. B. Lott ; fortunately, he was near his ele- 
 phant, and, seeing the danger, took refuge behind one of 
 the legs of that valuable animal. She raised her trunk 
 in her master's defense. The lioness made to seize him ; 
 but the elephant lowered her trunk, seized the lioness, 
 choked her, flung her a distance and would have crush- 
 ed her to death if Mr. Lott had not commanded her to 
 desist. After that she extended her trunk, stamped with 
 her foot, trumpeting and showing her satisfaction at hav- 
 ing saved her friend from certain death, full accounts of 
 which are to be seen in the journals of February, 1832. 
 
 In the course of the exhibition she will go through all 
 her exercises, which are wonderful, and so numerous that 
 it is impossible to enumerate them hi this bill : they must 
 be seen to form a just idea of them. 
 
 Prices : First places Second Soldiers and 
 
 children hah price. 
 
 Djek and I used to make our bow to our audiences in 
 the following fashion. I came on with her, and said, 
 " Otez mon chapeau pour saluer ;" then she used to take 
 oflfmy hat, wave it gracefully, and replace it on my head. 
 She then proceeded to pick up twenty five-franc pieces 
 one after another, and keep them piled hi the extremity 
 of her trunk. She also fired pistols, and swept her den 
 with a broom in a most painstaking and ludicrous way. 
 
 But perhaps her best business in a real judge's eye was 
 drinking a bottle of wine. The reader will better esti- 
 mate this feat if he will fancy himself an elephant, and 
 lay down the book now, and ask himself how he would 
 do it, and read the following afterward. 
 
 The bottle (cork drawn) stood before her. She placed 
 the finger and thumb of her proboscis on the mouth, 
 made a vacuum by suction, and then, suddenly inverting 
 the bottle, she received the contents in her trunk. The
 
 JACK OJP ALL TRADES. 329 
 
 difficulty now was to hold the bottle, which she would 
 not have broken for a thousand pounds (my lady thought 
 less of killing ten men than breaking a saucer), and yet 
 not let the liquor run from her flesh-pipe. She rapidly 
 shifted her hold to the centre of the bottle, and worked 
 it by means of the wrinkles in her proboscis to the bend 
 of it. Then she griped it, and at the same time curled 
 round her trunk to a sloping position, and let the wine 
 run down her throat. This done, she resumed the first 
 position of her trunk, and worked the bottle back toward 
 her finger, suddenly snapped hold of it by the neck, and 
 handed it gracefully to me. 
 
 With this exception, it was not her public tricks that 
 astonished me most. The principle of all these tricks 
 is one. An animal is taught to lay hold of things at 
 command, and to shift them from one place to another. 
 You vary the thing to be laid hold of, but the act is the 
 same. In her drama, which was so effective on the stage, 
 Djek did nothing out of the way. She merely went 
 through certain mechanical acts at a word of command 
 from her keeper, who was unseen or unnoticed ; i. e., he 
 was either at the wing in his fustian jacket, or on the 
 stage with her in gimcrack and gold, as one of a lot of 
 slaves or courtiers, or what not. Between ourselves, a 
 single trick I have several times caught her doing on her 
 own account proved more for her intelligence than all 
 these. She used to put her eye to a keyhole. Ay, that 
 she would, and so watch for hours to see what devil's 
 trick she could do with impunity she would see me out 
 of the way, and then go to work. Where there was no 
 keyhole I have seen her pick the knot out of a deal-board, 
 and squint through the little hole she had thus made. 
 
 A dog comes next to an elephant, but he is not up to 
 looking through a keyhole or a crack. He can think of 
 nothing better than snuffing under the door. 
 
 At one place, being under a granary, she worked a hole 
 in the ceiling no bigger than a thimble, and sucked down
 
 330 JACK OF ALL TBADES. 
 
 sackfuls of grain before she was found out. Talk of the 
 half-reasoning elephant : she seldom met a man that 
 could match her in reasoning to a bad end. Her weak 
 points were her cruelty and cowardice, and by this latter 
 Tom Elliot and I governed her with a rod of iron, vul- 
 garly called a pitchfork. If a mouse pattered about the 
 floor in her stable Djek used to tremble all over, and 
 whine with terror till the little monster was gone. A 
 ton shaken by an ounce. 
 
 I have seen her start back in dismay from a small 
 feather floating hi the air. If her heart had been as 
 stout as her will to do mischief was strong, mankind 
 must have risen to put her down. 
 
 Almost all you have ever heard about the full-grown 
 elephant's character is a pack of falsities. They are 
 your servants by fear, or they are your masters. Two 
 years ago an elephant killed his keeper at Liverpool or 
 Manchester, I forget which. Out came the " Times :" he 
 had pronged him six weeks before. How well I knew 
 the old lie ; it seldom varies a syllable. That man died 
 not because he had pronged the animal, but because he 
 hadn't, or not enough. 
 
 Spare the pitchfork, spoil the elephant. 
 
 There is another animal people misconstrue just as 
 bad : the hyena. 
 
 Terrible fierce animal, the hyena, says Bufibn and Co., 
 and the world echoes the chant. 
 
 Fierce, are they ? You get a score of them together 
 in a yard, and you shall see me walk into the lot with 
 nothing but a switch, and them try to get between the 
 brick and the mortar with the funk that is how fierce 
 they are ; and they are not only cowardly, but innocent, 
 and affectionate into the bargain, is the fierce hyena of 
 Buffon and Co. ; but, indeed, wild animals are sadly mis- 
 understood ; it is pitiable ; and those that have the best 
 character deserve it less than those that have the worst. 
 
 In one German town I met with something I should
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 83 1 
 
 like to tell the sporting gents, for I don't think there is 
 many that ever fell in with such a thing. But it is an 
 old saying that what does happen has happened before, 
 and may again, so I tell this to put them on their guard, 
 especially in Germany. Well, it was a good town for 
 business, and we staid several days ; but before we had 
 been there many hours my horses turned queer. Rest- 
 less they were, and uneasy. Sweated of their own ac- 
 cord. Stamped eternally. One, in particular, began to 
 lose flesh. We examined the hay. It seemed particu- 
 larly good, and the oats not amiss. Called the landlord ' 
 in, and asked him if he could account for it. He stands 
 looking at them ; this one, called Dick, was all in a lath- 
 er. " Well, I think I know now," said he ; " they are 
 bewitched. You see there is an old woman in the next 
 street that bewitches cattle, and she rides on your horses' 
 backs all night, you may take your oath." Then he tells 
 us a lot of stories, whose cow died after giving this old 
 wench a rough word, and how she had been often seen 
 to go across the meadows in the shape of a hare. " She 
 has a spite against me, the old sorceress," says he. " She 
 has been at them ; you had better send for the pastor." 
 " Go for the farrier, Jem," says I. So we had in the 
 farrier. He sat on the bin and smoked his pipe in dead 
 silence, looking at them. " They seem a little fidgety," 
 says he, after about half an hour. So I turned him out 
 of the stable. And I was in two minds about punching 
 his head, I was. " Send for the veterinary surgeon, No. 
 1." He came. "They have got some disorder," says 
 he, " that is plain ; nostrils are clear, too. Let me see 
 them eat." They took their food pretty well. Then he 
 asked where we came from last. I told him. " Well," 
 said he, cheerfully, " this is a murrain, I think. In this 
 country we do invent a new murrain about every twenty 
 years. We are about due now." He spoke English, 
 this one quite a fine gentleman. One of the grooms 
 put in, " I think the water is poisoned." " Anyway,"
 
 332 JACK OF ALL TRAUKS. 
 
 says another, " Dick will die if we stay here." So then 
 they both pressed me to leave the town. " You know, 
 governor, we can't afford to lose the horses." Now I 
 was clearing ten pounds a day in the place, and all ex- 
 penses paid ; so I looked blank. So did the veterinary. 
 " I wouldn't go," says he ; " wait a day or two ; then the 
 disease will declare itself, and we shall know what we 
 are doing." You see, gents, he did not relish my taking 
 a murrain out of his town ; he was a veterinary. " What- 
 ever it is," says he, " you brought it with you." " Well, 
 "now," said I, "my opinion is I found it here. Did you 
 notice any thing at the last place, Nick ?" " No :" the 
 grooms both bore me out. " Oh !" says the vet., " you 
 can't go by that : it had not declared itself." Well, if 
 you will believe me (I often laugh when I think of it), it 
 was not two minutes after he said that that it did declare 
 itself. It was Sunday morning, and Nick had got a clean 
 shirt on. Nick was currying the very horse called Dick, 
 when all of a sudden the sleeve of his white shirt looked 
 dirty. " What now ?" cries he, and comes to the light. 
 " I do believe it is vermin," says he, " and if it is they are 
 eaten up with it." "Vermin? What vermin can that 
 be ?" said I ; " have we invented a new vermin too ?" 
 They were no bigger than pin's points looked like dust 
 on his shirt. " What do you say, sir is it vermin ?" 
 " Not a doubt of it," says the vet. " These are poultry- 
 lice, unless I am mistaken. Have you any hens any- 
 where near?" Both the grooms burst out, "Hens ? why 
 there are full a hundred up in the hay-loft." So that was 
 the murrain. The hens had been tumbling in the hay ; 
 the hay came down to the rack all alive with their ver- 
 min ; and the vermin were eating the horses. We stop- 
 ped that supply of hay ; and what with currying, and 
 washing with a solut. the vet. gave us, we cured that 
 murrain chicken-pox, if any. We had a little scene at 
 going away from this place. Landlord had agreed to 
 charge nothing for the use of stabling, we spent so much
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 333 
 
 in other ways with him. In spite of that, he put it down 
 at the foot of the list. I would not pay. " You must." 
 " I won't." " Then you shan't go till you do ;" and with 
 that he and his servants closed the great gates. The 
 yard was entered by two great double doors like barn 
 doors, secured outside by a stout beam. So there he had 
 us fast. It got wind, and there was the whole popula- 
 tion hooting outside, three thousand strong. Then it 
 was, " Come, don't be a fool." 
 
 "Don't you 'be a fool." 
 
 " Stand clear," said I to the man ; " we will alter our 
 usual line of march this time ; I'll take Djek from the 
 rear to the front." So they all formed behind me and 
 Djek, two carriages, and six horses, all in order. " Now," 
 said I, " landlord, you have had your joke, open the door, 
 and let us part friends ; we have been with you a week, 
 you know, and you have had one profit out of us, and 
 another out of the townsfolk we brought to your bar. 
 Open the door." 
 
 " Pay me my bill, and I'll open," says he. " If I turn- 
 ed away one traveler from my stable for you I've turned 
 away twenty." 
 
 " A bargain is a bargain. Will you open before she 
 knocks your door into toothpicks ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I'll risk my door if you'll risk your beast. No, 
 I won't open till I am paid." 
 
 " Once, will you open ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Twice, will you open ? Thrice ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Djek Go!" 
 
 She walked lazily at the door, as if she did not see it. 
 The moment she touched it both doors were in the road ; 
 the beam was in half in the road. Most times one thing 
 stands, another goes ; here it all went bodily on all sides 
 like paper on a windy day, and the people went fastest 
 of all. There was the yell of a multitude under our noses,
 
 334 JACK OP All* TBADES. 
 
 then an empty street under our eyes. We marched on 
 calm, majestical, and unruffled beneath the silent night. 
 
 Doors and bolts, indeed, to a lady that had stepped 
 through a brick wall before that day an English brick 
 wall. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FROM Strasbourg I determined to go into Switzerland ; 
 above all, to Geneva. I could not help it. In due course 
 of time and travel I arrived near Geneva, and sent for- 
 ward my green and gold avant-couriers ; but, alas ! they 
 returned with the doleful news that elephants were not 
 admitted into that ancient city. The last elephant that 
 had been there had done mischief, and, at the request of 
 its proprietor, Madlle. Gamier, a young lady whose con- 
 science smote her, for she had another elephant that kill- 
 ed one or two people in Venice, was publicly executed in 
 the fortress.* 
 
 Fortunately (as I then thought), I had provided my- 
 self with testimonials from the mayor and governors of 
 some score of towns through which we had passed. I 
 produced these, and made friends in the town, particular- 
 ly with a Dr. Mayo. At last we were admitted. Djek 
 was proved a dove by such overpowering testimony. I 
 had now paid M. Huguet six thousand francs and found 
 myself possessed of five thousand more. Business was 
 very good in Geneva. Djek was very popular. Her in- 
 telligence and amiability became a by-word. I had but 
 
 one bitter disappointment, though. Madlle. never 
 
 came to see us, and I was too sulky and too busy to hunt 
 for her. Besides, I said to myself, " All the world can 
 find me, and if she cared a button for me she would come 
 to light." I tried to turn it off with the old song : 
 
 * They gave this elephant an ounce of prussic acid and an ounce 
 of arsenic ; neither of these sedatives producing any effect, they fired 
 a cannon ball through her neck.
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 335 
 
 "Now get ye gone, ye scornful dame ; 
 If you are proud, I'll be the same. 
 I make no doubt that I shall find 
 As pretty a girl onto my mind." 
 
 Behold me now at the climax of prosperity, dressed 
 like a gentleman, driving a pair of horses, proprietor of 
 a whole cavalcade and of an elephant, and after clearing 
 all expenses, making at the rate of full 600 per annum. 
 There was a certain clergyman of the place used to visit 
 us about every day, and bring her cakes and things to 
 eat, till he got quite fond of her, and believed that she 
 returned his affection. I used to beg him not to go so 
 close to her. On this, his answer was, " Why, you say 
 she is harmless as a chicken ;" so then I had no more to 
 say. Well, one unlucky day I turned my back for a mo- 
 ment ; before I could get back there were the old sounds, 
 a snort of rage, and a cry of terror, and there was the 
 poor minister in her trunk. At sight of me she dropped 
 him, but two of his ribs were broken, and he was quite 
 insensible, and the people rushed out in terror. We 
 raised the clergyman and carried him home, and in half 
 an hour a mob was before the door, and stones as big as 
 your fists thrown in at the windows : this, however, was 
 stopped by the authorities. But the next day my lady 
 was arrested and walked off to the fortress, and there 
 confined. I remonstrated, expostulated in vain. I had 
 now to feed her and no return from her : ruin stared me 
 in the face. So I went to law with the authorities. Law 
 is slow, and Djek was eating all the time. Ruin looked 
 nearer still. The law ate my green and gold servants 
 and horses, and still Djek remained in quod. Then I re- 
 fused to feed her any longer, and her expenses fell upon 
 the town. Her appetite and their poverty soon brought 
 matters to a climax. They held a sort of municipal tri- 
 bunal, and tried her for an attempt at homicide. I got 
 counsel to defend her, for I distrusted my own temper 
 and French.
 
 336 JACK OF AT.T. TRADES. 
 
 I can't remember half the fine things he said, but there 
 was one piece of common sense I do remember. He 
 said, " The animal, I believe, is unconscious of her great 
 strength, and has committed a fatal error rather than a 
 crime ; still, if you think she is liable to make such errors, 
 let her die rather than kill men. But how do you recon- 
 cile to your consciences to punish her proprietor, to rob 
 him of his subsistence ? He has committed no crime, he 
 has been guilty of no want of caution. If, therefore, you 
 take upon yourselves to punish the brute, be honest ! buy 
 her of the man first, and then assert your sublime office 
 destroy an animal that has offended morality. But a 
 city should be above wronging or robbing an individual." 
 When he sat down I thought my homicide was safe, for 
 I knew Geneva could not afford to buy an elephant with- 
 out it was out .of a Noah's ark. 
 
 But up gets an orator on the other side and attacked 
 me ; accused me of false representations, of calling a 
 demon a duck. "We have certain information from 
 France that this elephant has been always wounding and 
 killing men up and down Europe these twenty years. 
 Mons. Loett knew this by universal report, and by being 
 an eyewitness of more than one man's destruction." 
 Here there was a sensation, I can tell you. " He has, 
 therefore, forfeited all claims to consideration." Then he 
 thundered out, " Let no man claim to be wiser than 
 Holy Writ ; there we are told that a lie is a crime of the 
 very deepest dye, and here we see how for years false- 
 hood has been murder." Then I mind he took just the 
 opposite line to my defender. Says he, " If I hesitate for 
 a moment, it is not for the man's sake, but for the brute's ; 
 but I do not hesitate. I could wish so majestic a crea- 
 ture might be spared for our instruction," says he, " that 
 so wonderful a specimen of the Creator's skill might still 
 walk the earth; but reason, and justice, and humanity 
 say ' No.' There is an animal far smaller, yet ten times 
 more important, for he has a soul ; and this, the king of
 
 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 337 
 
 all the animals, is not safe while she lives ; therefore she 
 ought to die. Weaker far than her in his individual 
 strength, he is a thousand times stronger by combination 
 and science therefore she will die." 
 
 When this infernal chatter-box shut up, my heart sunk 
 into my shoes. He was a prig, but an eloquent one, and 
 he walked into Djek and me till we were not worth half 
 an hour's purchase. 
 
 For all that, the council did not come to a decision on 
 the spot, and I believe that if Djek had but been content 
 to kill the laity as heretofore, we should have scraped 
 through with a fine ; but the fool must go and tear black 
 cloth, and dig her own grave. 
 
 Two days after the trial, out came the sentence 
 Death! 
 
 With that modesty and good feeling which belongs to 
 most foreign governments, they directed me to execute 
 their sentence. 
 
 My answer came in English. " I'll see you d d, and 
 double d d first, and then I won't." 
 
 Meantime Huguet was persecuting poor heart-sick me 
 for the remainder of her purchase-money, and, what with 
 the delay, the expenses, and the anxiety, I was so down 
 and so at the end of my wits and my patience that her 
 sentence fell on me like a blow on a chap that is benumb- 
 ed produced less effect upon me at the time than it does 
 when I think of it now. 
 
 Well curse them ! one fine morning they ran a can- 
 non up to the gate, loaded it, and bade me call the ele- 
 phant, and bring her into a favorable position for being 
 shot. I refused point blank in English as before. They 
 threatened me for my contumacy. I answered they 
 might shoot me if they liked, but I would not be the one 
 to destroy my own livelihood. 
 
 So they had to watch their opportunity. 
 
 It was not long of coming. 
 
 She began to walk about, and presently the poor fool 
 P
 
 338 JACK OF ALL TRADES. 
 
 marched right up to the cannon's mouth and squinted 
 down it. Then she turned, and at last she crossed right 
 before it. The gunner took the opportunity, applied his 
 linstock, and fired. There was a great tongue of flame 
 and a cloud of smoke, and through the smoke something 
 as big as a house was seen to go down : the very earth 
 trembled at the shock. 
 
 The smoke cleared in a moment, and there lay Djek. 
 She never moved. The round shot went clean through 
 her body, and struck the opposite wall with great force. 
 It was wonderful and sad to see so huge a creature rob- 
 bed of her days in a moment by a spark. There she lay 
 poor Djek. 
 
 In one moment I forgot all her faults. She was an old 
 companion of mine in many a wet day and dreary night. 
 She was reputation to me and a clear six hundred a 
 year ; and then she was so clever ! We shall never see 
 her like again ; and there she lay. I mourned over her, 
 right or wrong, and have never been the same man since 
 that shot was fired. 
 
 The butchery done, I was informed by the municipal 
 authorities that the carcass was considered, upon the 
 whole, to be my property. The next moment I had two 
 hundred applications for elephant steaks from the pinch- 
 gut natives, who, I believe, knew gravy by tradition and 
 romances that had come all the way from Paris. Knives 
 and scales went to work, and, with the tears running 
 down my cheeks, I sold her beef at four sous per pound 
 for about 40 sterling. 
 
 This done, all my occupation was gone. Geneva was 
 no place for me, and as the worthy Huguet, whose life I 
 had saved, threatened to arrest me, I determined to go 
 back to England and handicraft. Two days after Djek's 
 death I was hanging sorrowfully over the bridge, when 
 some one drew near to me and said, in a low voice, Mons. 
 Loett. I had no need to look up. I knew the voice ; it 
 was my lost sweetheart. She spoke very kindly, blush-
 
 JACK OF ALL TKADES. 339 
 
 ed, and welcomed me to her native country. She did 
 more ; she told me she lived five miles from Geneva, and 
 invited me to visit her mother. She took occasion to let 
 me know that her father was dead : " My mother refuses 
 me nothing," she added, with another blush. This was 
 all like a dream to me. The next day I visited her and 
 her mother, and was cordially received ; in short, it was 
 made clear to me that my misfortune had endeared me 
 to this gem of a girl instead of repelling her. An uncle, 
 too, had died, and left her three hundred pounds, arid 
 this made her bolder still ; and she did not conceal her 
 regard for me. She told me she had seen me once in 
 Geneva driving two showy horses in a carriage and look- 
 ing like a nobleman, and so had hesitated to claim the 
 acquaintance ; but, hearing the elephant's execution, and 
 guessing that I could no longer be on the high road to 
 fortune, she had obeyed her heart, and been the first to 
 remind me I had once esteemed her. 
 
 In short, a Pearl. 
 
 I made her a very bad/eturn for so much goodness. 
 I went and married her. We then compounded with 
 Huguet for three thousand francs, and sailed for En- 
 gland to begin the world again. 
 
 The moment I got to London I made for the Seven 
 Dials to see my friend Paley. 
 
 On the way I met a mutual acquaintance ; told him 
 where I was going red hot. 
 
 He shook his head and said nothing. 
 
 A chill came over me. If you had stuck a knife in me 
 I shouldn't have bled. I gasped out some sort of in- 
 quiry. 
 
 " Why, you know he was not a young man," says he ; 
 and he looked down. 
 
 That was enough for such an unlucky one as me. I 
 began to cry directly. "Don't ye take on," says he. 
 " Old man died happy. Come home with me ; my wife 
 will tell you more about it than I can."
 
 340 JACK OF ATT, TRADES. 
 
 I was loath to go ; but he persuaded me. His -wife 
 told me the old gentleman spoke of me to the last, and 
 had my letters read out, and boasted of my success. 
 
 " Didn't I tell you he would rise ?" he used to say ; 
 and then, it seems, he made much of some little presents 
 I had sent him from Paris, and them such trifles com- 
 pared with what I owed him : " Doesn't forget old friends 
 now he is at the top of the tree ;" and then burst out 
 praising me, by all accounts. 
 
 So, then, it was a little bit of comfort to think he had 
 died while I was prosperous, and that my disappointment 
 had never reached his warm and feeling heart. 
 
 A workman has little time to grieve outwardly ; he 
 must dry his eyes quickly, let his heart be ever so sad, or 
 he'll look queer when Saturday night comes. You can't 
 make a workmanlike joint with the tear in your eye ; one 
 half the joiners can't do it with their glasses on. And I 
 was a workman once more ; I had to end as I began. 
 
 I returned to the violin trade, and, by a very keen at- 
 tention to its mysteries, I made progress, and having a 
 foreign connection, I imported and sold to English deal- 
 ers, as well as made, varnished, and doctored violins. 
 But soon the trade, through foreign competition, declined 
 to a desperate state. I did not despair, but to eke out, I 
 set my wife up in a china and curiosity shop in Wardour 
 Street, and worked at my own craft in the back parlor. 
 I had no sooner done this than the writers all made it 
 their business to sneer at Wardour Street, and now no- 
 body dares buy in that street ; so, since I began this tale, 
 we have closed the shop it only wasted their time 
 they are much better out walking, and getting fresh air, 
 at least, for their trouble. I attend sales, and never lose 
 a chance of turning a penny ; at home I make, and mend, 
 and doctor fiddles ; I carve wood ; I clean pictures and 
 gild frames ; I cut ovit fruit and flowers in leather ; I 
 teach ladies and gentlemen to gild at so much a lesson ; 
 and by these and a score more of little petty arts I just 
 keep the pot boiling.
 
 JACK OP ALL TRADES. 341 
 
 I am, as I have been all my life, sober, watchful, enter- 
 prising, energetic, and unlucky. 
 
 In early life I played for a great stake affluence. 
 
 I think I may say I displayed in the service of Djek 
 some of those qualities by which, unless books are false, 
 men have won campaigns and battles, and reaped for- 
 - tunes and reputations : result in my case, a cannon shot 
 fired in a dirty little village calling itself a city, in a coun- 
 try that Yorkshire could eat up and spit out again, after 
 all the great kingdoms and repubs. had admired her and 
 forgiven her her one defect a tongue of fire a puff of 
 smoke and all the perils, labor, courage, and persever- 
 ance of eleven years blown away like dust to the four 
 winds of heaven. 
 
 I am now playing for a smaller stake ; but I am now, 
 as usual, playing my very best. I am bending all my 
 experience of work and trade, all my sobriety, activity, 
 energy, and care, all my cunning of eye and hand, to one 
 end not to die in the work-house. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, the workman has said his say, 
 and I hope the company have been amused. 
 
 THE END.
 
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