CITY OF LEEDS 
 
 EDUCATION COMMITTEE. 
 
 i} 
 
 a\ e^erv mee\\x\a o^ \\\e 
 
 No. HH. Ki-o;.. A. C.
 
 Frontispiece. 
 
 "Yes, that's what did it." CICELY FROME, p. 14.
 
 CICELY FROME 
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER 
 
 BESSIE MARCHANT 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 'AMONG THE TORCHES OF THE ANDES" ETC. 
 
 WITH FOUR ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 EDINBURGH 
 W. P. NIMMO, HAY, & MITCHELL
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. CICELY FROME ..... 7 
 
 II. IN THE SCHOOL . . . . .18 
 
 III. HURRIED AWAY ..... 36 
 
 IV. OUTWARD BOUND ..... 43 
 V. THE SURVIVOR . . - . .54 
 
 VI. TERRA FIRMA ONCE MORE . . . .65 
 
 VII. UP-COUNTRY TRAVELS . . . .75 
 
 VIII. AT THE FERRY ..... 87 
 
 ix. JULIE'S WELCOME ..... 103 
 x. WIMALA'S REVENGE . . . . .114 
 
 xi. "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" . . 129 
 
 XII. THE REVENGE CARRIED OUT . . .148 
 
 XIII. THE VEDDAH-STONE ..... 160 
 
 XIV. ON THE SPOT . . . . .176 
 XV. THE BARTER . 191
 
 6 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PACK 
 
 XVI. COMMON DANGERS ..... 205 
 
 XVII. THE AWAKENING . . . . .215 
 
 XVIII. HOW THE STRUGGLE ENDED . . . 222 
 
 XIX. THE PADLOCKED BOX .... 230 
 
 XX. HIS EXPIATION ..... 238 
 
 XXI. THE END . - 247
 
 CICELY FROME 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 CICELY FROME 
 
 HE was a big girl of ten, with a shock 
 of rough hair, a plain face, and grey 
 eyes ; a very ordinary sort of girl to 
 look at, it was only when you came 
 to know her that you discovered any difference 
 in Cicely Frome. 
 
 From babyhood up to this mature age of ten 
 years she had lived with her mother, her grand- 
 father, and her step-brother Bernard Alderson, 
 in the old farmhouse on the turnpike road to 
 Hawkesbury. 
 
 Her father she only saw at rare intervals, 
 when he had time for a few days of rest and 
 holiday between his voyages ; for he was captain 
 of a big ocean liner, and his work was hard and
 
 8 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 anxious, his playing spells being few and far 
 between. 
 
 But the times of his home-coming were the 
 red-letter days in Cicely's life ; for she loved 
 him with all the warm devotion of her impulsive, 
 affectionate heart, and deemed him the wisest, 
 handsomest man, and the bravest sailor the 
 world had ever seen. And he could tell such 
 wonderful stories of his life and adventures at 
 sea, until she cried herself to sleep in hopeless 
 despair, night after night, because she was not 
 a boy who could develop into a sailor later on. 
 But she was comforted eventually by remember- 
 ing that she could ship herself as a stewardess, 
 by and by, when she had arrived at years of 
 discretion. 
 
 Meanwhile she grew as fast as she could, 
 which was very fast indeed, reckoning by the 
 many times in a year that her frocks needed 
 making longer ; and she got into so much 
 mischief that, according to Mrs. Frome and 
 Bernard, she might be almost said to live in a 
 state of constant pickledom, which means that 
 period of one's existence during which one is 
 either actually doing the mischief or paying the 
 penalty thereof. 
 
 This was the more trying to Mrs. Frome
 
 CICEL Y FROME 9 
 
 because Bernard, the only child of her first 
 marriage, had been such a quiet, docile boy ; and 
 she often sighed despairingly over Cicely's torn 
 frocks and dirty pinafores, remembering the 
 difference between the two children, and com- 
 menting upon it much oftener than was good for 
 the little girl or her brother either. 
 
 Her grandfather was her great ally in troublous 
 times, when she had been playing any prank of 
 more than usual unto wardn ess ; and many were 
 the instances on record of a well-merited thrash- 
 ing averted, bread-and-water diet waved aside, 
 or solitary confinement avoided through the old 
 man's kindly intervention. 
 
 Bernard was much older than herself, indeed 
 she thought him quite elderly, and would, at 
 this stage of her existence, have much preferred 
 a rough-and-tumble sort of a brother of her 
 own age, who would go shares with her in 
 butter-scotch, long-toffee, and candy, be a co- 
 partner in mischief, and even fight her on 
 occasion. Happily for her, Bernard was away 
 all day in a merchant's office in Hawkesbury, so 
 that she had many hours in every week free 
 from his surveillance, and tiresome, though well- 
 meant, admonitions. 
 
 Her lessons were done with her mother, and
 
 io CICELY FROME 
 
 it was in the astute avoidance of columns of 
 spelling, paragraphs of history, and the bewilder- 
 ing mazes of the shillings and pence table, that 
 Cicely expended her genius. 
 
 Sometimes her conscience troubled her because 
 her mother was so easily duped ; and on more 
 than one occasion she had voluntarily gone back 
 to the drudgery of her lessons, confessing her 
 sins, impelled to this wholesome state of mind 
 because of her mother's belief in her former 
 excuses of inability to work. 
 
 The sad part of it was that these glimpses of 
 reformation were sure to be followed by some 
 worse outbreak, and one glorious July morning 
 in that tenth summer of her life, Cicely Frome 
 decided that come what might she could not 
 and would not be shut up in the house, poring 
 over grammar-books, and doing subtraction of 
 money, when the world out of doors was so well 
 worth living in, and bird, bee, and butterfly 
 were each, in their way, clamouring to her with 
 insistent voices to come and share their fun. 
 
 It would not do to say that her head ached, 
 that excuse had been trotted out too often 
 already, and her mother would only say that the 
 sun would make it worse, and keep her indoors 
 when lessons were over.
 
 CICELY FRO ME n 
 
 Besides her head did not ache the least bit 
 in the world, and Cicely had scruples about 
 telling a lie, though none about acting one, 
 such is the queer one-sided morality of children. 
 
 But a bright idea came to her, as she lingered 
 by the house door, gazing wistfully at the garden 
 and sniffing the odours of the scented hayfields 
 beyond ; she would let the pigs out into the 
 cabbage bed, and then volunteer her services in 
 chasing them out. Her grandfather had gone 
 to Hawkesbury that morning, the men were away 
 in the farther clover field, and neither Mary, the 
 maid, nor her mother could run ; truly the idea 
 was inspiration, and nothing short of it ! 
 
 It acted so well too, no one saw her creep to 
 the house end and set the well - gate ajar, 
 artfully tossing a handful of lettuce to the half- 
 score of swine grubbing about on the green ; 
 and when Mrs. Frome came into the parlour 
 prepared for the daily two hours of wrestling 
 with her daughter's education, it was to find 
 Cicely seated in her place at the table, 
 apparently absorbed in the mysteries of com- 
 parative adjectives. 
 
 Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, and 
 still there were no signs of destruction threaten- 
 ing the cabbages; tears of disappointment were
 
 i 2 CICELY FROME 
 
 welling up in the delinquent's eyes, to think 
 that those short-sighted pigs had been too obtuse 
 to avail themselves of the invitation of the open 
 gate, when, joy of joys ! there came the sound 
 of an unmistakable grunt, right under the 
 window of the parlour, and Mrs. Frome at once 
 started up in consternation and alarm. 
 
 " Cicely, the pigs are in the garden, they will 
 eat all the cabbages ; run, dear, and help Mary 
 drive them out." 
 
 Away went Cicely, nothing loath, flinging the 
 grammar on to the floor in her haste, where in 
 falling it broke its back, and a torn leaf or two 
 of abstract nouns and comparative adjectives lay 
 scattered on the carpet. But what cared she for 
 nouns or adjectives then ? It was lovely, lovelier, 
 loveliest out in the sunshine ; and to chase the 
 pigs from the cabbages was better by far in her 
 estimation than to sort miscellaneous words into 
 orderly heaps, each of its kind, like the animals 
 in Noah's ark. 
 
 When the pigs were chased back to their 
 legitimate feeding - ground, it was of course 
 necessary to rest after her exertions, and to this 
 end she wandered off to the nearest hayfield, 
 and making herself a comfortable nest in the 
 hay, lay down to meditate for a while, not on
 
 CICELY FRO ME 13 
 
 the interrupted grammar lesson, but on things in 
 general, and her father in particular. 
 
 So absorbed was she in this pleasant musing, 
 that she failed to see a telegraph boy pass the 
 gate of the meadow on his way to the house,, 
 and was only aroused some ten minutes later by 
 hearing the servant, Mary, calling her name in 
 agitated tones. 
 
 At first she only nestled closer in the hay r 
 laughing softly to herself, and thinking what a 
 long time it would be before Mary found her ; 
 but a break in the woman's voice, as though 
 tears were close at hand, arrested her attention r 
 arousing her curiosity. 
 
 Then she jumped up, shaking herself vigorously 
 to get rid of the clinging hay ; Mary had ceased 
 shouting, having probably gone back to the 
 house, and Cicely was about to settle down again 
 in renewed content when her sharp eyes caught 
 a glimpse of the telegraph boy passing the gate. 
 He was going back to Hawkesbury now, having 
 delivered his message, striding away with quick 
 vigorous steps and a cheerful whistle. 
 
 But Cicely did not waste time in looking at 
 him after that first glance of surprise. Tele- 
 grams to her meant news of her father, and she 
 sped back towards the house with fleet steps,
 
 i 4 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 her face radiant with delight, and shouts of 
 exultation just ready to burst from her lips. 
 
 They died away though, unuttered, when she 
 reached the house door, and saw her mother 
 lying stretched on the floor of the little square 
 entrance hall in a dead swoon, while Mary hung 
 over her, sobbing bitterly. 
 
 There was a piece of paper in her mother's 
 hand, whilst the yellow envelope lay on the floor 
 at a little distance away. Cicely opened her 
 mouth to ask what was the matter, but though 
 her lips moved no sound came, and her heart 
 was beating so wildly that its throbbing frightened 
 her. Holding to the post of the door for support 
 with one hand, with the other she pointed to 
 the paper in her mother's hand. 
 
 "Yes, that's what did it," said the woman, 
 staying her sobs to speak, eager to unburden 
 herself of the heavy tidings that could not long 
 be withheld ; " your father's ship has sunk, that's 
 what the telegraph is about ; and you, poor child, 
 are a horphan like your brother." 
 
 A wild shriek from Cicely ; and then, not 
 pausing a moment to aid in succouring her poor 
 unconscious mother, she turned and fled. 
 
 Out into the sunlight she ran, bareheaded ; 
 flecked with grass seeds, and bits of clover
 
 CICELY FROME 15 
 
 sticking here and there about her frock and 
 pinafore, or clinging to her hair ; and with her 
 face now white, now scarlet, from the tumult in 
 her heart ; she took the same direction in which 
 the telegraph messenger had disappeared, and 
 ran on. 
 
 It did not take her long to overtake and pass 
 him, and he ceased whistling to shout an inquiry 
 after her as to what was the matter, but she 
 neither heard nor heeded, being unconscious of 
 everything but that she wanted to find her 
 grandfather, Mary's words and her mother's 
 swoon having led her to believe that she was 
 doubly orphaned. 
 
 Presently she saw the familiar chaise, drawn 
 by the old white horse, coming towards her on 
 the dusty highway, and running to it she began 
 to cry out in her fright and pain, " Grand- 
 father, grandfather, hide me, hide me, I'm so 
 afraid!" 
 
 Her grandfather stopped the white horse and 
 helped her scramble into the low chaise beside 
 him. " Hey now, what's the latest bit of mischief, 
 Cicely ? have you set the ricks on fire, or drowned 
 your kitten in the horse-well ? " 
 
 " No, no," sobbed Cicely, cowering closer to the 
 kind old man, " it isn't me at all, it's father ; and
 
 1 6 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 mother's dead too ; and Mary says I'm an orphan 
 like Bernard ! " 
 
 The reins fell unheeded from her grandfather's 
 hands, but the white horse was steady and knew 
 her road home. " Cicely, Cicely, it can't be true ! 
 God, my son, my son ! " 
 
 They cried together then, the old man and 
 the young child, and were comforted even as 
 they wept, so great is the relief of tears. 
 
 But Mrs. Frome was not dead, but was sitting 
 on a chair with a pale drawn face when Cicely 
 and her grandfather reached home, while Mary 
 was sobbing louder than ever. 
 
 The old man took the telegram, reading the 
 brief message of calamity at sea : " The Eastern 
 Star foundered off the coast of Ireland, all hands 
 lost." 
 
 " There may be better news to come later ; 
 they wouldn't surely all be drowned ; and in the 
 middle of summer, with a quiet sea as you may 
 say," he faltered, clinging to a poor pretence of 
 hope even yet. 
 
 But Cicely's mother lifted her head with a proud 
 light of almost gladness on her poor, agonised 
 face. " Yes, some will be saved doubtless, but not 
 him ; my captain would never desert his ship ! " 
 
 And despite her keen sorrow of bereavement,
 
 CICELY FROME 17 
 
 Cicely was not a little comforted by these words 
 of her mother's ; repeating them many times in 
 the sad weeks and months that followed, and 
 never once seeing how strange and cold was the 
 reception they met from the people to whom she 
 said them.
 
 CHAPTEE II 
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 
 
 IVE years had slipped away, and the 
 child of ten, who had grieved through 
 the bright summer morning among 
 the ox-eyed daisies of the meadow, 
 was a tall girl of fifteen, with all the uncom- 
 fortable angularity that characterises the age, 
 and the added discomfort of a plain face. 
 
 Cicely Frome had not outgrown her sorrow 
 for her father's untimely end, though it was 
 shaded now to a tender regret by the gentle 
 touches of time. She had experienced other 
 sorrows since then, though never a one so keen. 
 Her mother had died, slipping out of life six 
 months after the loss of her sailor-husband. 
 Then Bernard Alderson, her step-brother, had 
 gone away to Ceylon. And the latest grief her 
 young life had known was the death of her 
 old grandfather, which event sent her to the 
 
 18
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 19 
 
 guardianship of two prim spinster cousins of her 
 dead father, who in their turn sent her to 
 boarding school. 
 
 This action of theirs, however, was not the 
 outcome of any unfriendliness on their part, or 
 an outbreak of that antipathy popularly sup- 
 posed to exist between the very old girl and the 
 very young of the same genus ; but merely a 
 common-sense, practical desire on the part of 
 the elderly Misses Frome for their young relative 
 to grow up amid bright, cheerful surroundings, 
 and amongst companions of her own age. 
 
 Here Cicely was happy in her own way, and 
 was so constantly in mischief of one sort and 
 another as to set her in the position of a leader 
 amongst the more active of her fellows, who 
 thirsted continually for the delight of broken 
 laws. 
 
 Oh, the varied joys of those days ! The whis- 
 pered consultations in forbidden corners con- 
 cerning attempts to do forbidden things. Until 
 it seemed to Cicely that life would lose half its 
 zest and enjoyment if there were no rules to 
 break, no risks to run, and no teachers to get 
 the better of. 
 
 Sometimes though not very often existence 
 would be soured for her temporarily by the
 
 20 CICELY FROME 
 
 knowledge that she was not, and possibly might 
 never be, fair to look upon. And for a brief 
 space she would be fiercely envious of the 
 softly-dimpled curves and delicate colouring of 
 some other girl's more fortunate face. But this 
 mood rarely lasted long, and she was content to 
 take the good that came and make the best 
 of it. 
 
 The one serious fault that she found with life 
 was that it was so transient. Did she fix her 
 affections on one particular classmate, that girl 
 was certain to leave at the end of the term ; 
 did she find one teacher easier than another to 
 work under, the same condition prevailed, and 
 that teacher vanished at the next vacation. 
 And now the prospect before her was change 
 still, for her step-brother had found himself a 
 wife in far-away Ceylon, and was anxious that 
 his sister should come out to him and share his 
 home. 
 
 Therefore this was her last term at school, 
 and already it was waning fast. A concert was 
 in prospect for the closing event, and all the girls 
 in the least degree musical were hard at work 
 practising glees, duets, choruses, and pianoforte 
 solos of fearful and wonderful construction, in 
 every spare half-hour that could be stolen from
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 21 
 
 the ordinary round of study. And for a whole 
 week Cicely had been so subdued by the fact of 
 her impending journey, and so engrossed by 
 steady practising, as to have been in no mischief 
 whatever, a condition of virtue so startling 
 that Miss Sara GifFord looked at her anxiously, 
 wondering whether she was developing scarlatina 
 or German measles, or any of the other ills to 
 which schoolgirl flesh is peculiarly liable ; and 
 even the august Miss Gilford condescended to 
 comment approvingly on this mental and moral 
 reformation in a pupil over whom she had 
 sighed despairingly for so long a time. 
 
 But, alas, it did not last ! And already vague 
 plans for an unusual outburst of fun and frolic 
 were beginning to shape themselves in the brain 
 of Cicely, though outwardly she still appeared 
 thoughtful and subdued. 
 
 Miss Gifford's school was situate in the out- 
 skirts of Hawkesbury, a fine old house standing 
 in its own grounds, and containing many little 
 rooms with oak wainscoting, behind which the 
 mice ran races with each other, or gnawed with 
 an insistent scraping of their little white teeth 
 on the hard old boards, making the girls start 
 and scream in the hysterical manner of their 
 class. In the bedrooms this scampering and
 
 22 CICELY FROME 
 
 scraping was especially noticeable, and Cicely, 
 who slept in a room alone, was startled one night 
 by the sight of a small brown atom hurrying 
 away across the floor when she went to her bed. 
 For a moment she stood irresolute, with her 
 mouth open ready for the shriek of fright which 
 should summons the governess on duty to 
 her aid. 
 
 Only for a moment, however, and then her 
 mouth shut itself with a snap, and she even 
 laughed softly, from some hidden source of glee, 
 as she set about her preparations for rest, with 
 a brisk determination not to keep the monitress 
 waiting. 
 
 At intervals during the night she heard the 
 patter, patter of tiny feet on the floor, whereat 
 she would laugh again, and turn on her pillow 
 to sleep once more. 
 
 Another week passed away with nothing to 
 mark its monotony, and Cicely had risen five 
 places in class by reason of her good conduct, 
 and Miss Gifford's imposition register held 
 nothing but clean blank spaces against her 
 name. 
 
 "What has come to you, Cicely, you are as 
 slow as old boots now ? " cried Laura Thorn, a 
 little Australian much given to frolic, one day,
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 23 
 
 coming suddenly on Cicely, who was leaning 
 in a brown study against the stair rail, just 
 outside the music-room. 
 
 " I'm thinking," she replied soberly, though 
 there was a twinkle in her eyes which was re- 
 garded as distinctly hopeful by the young 
 Australian, who was finding this unblemished 
 record of Cicely's decidedly dull. 
 
 " Ah, what is it, dear ? Do tell," urged Laura, 
 feeling a delightful anticipatory shudder in the 
 region of her spine ; for some of Cicely's thoughts 
 as revealed to this boon-companion-in-mischief 
 were of a decidedly gruesome colour, which when 
 carried into active operation always produced 
 an abundant crop of shrieks and screams among 
 the victims of her practical jokes. 
 
 But she only shook her head, declining to 
 be explicit, proving superior to bribery even, 
 although Laura urged upon her the biggest half 
 of a box of chocolate, a shilling box it was too, 
 and Cicely's weakness for this particular delicacy 
 was proverbial in the school. 
 
 Laura was distinctly impressed by this in- 
 corruptible reticence on the part of her friend, 
 and hurried away to communicate the news of 
 it, in mysterious whispers, to all the other girls 
 with whom she came in contact. Very soon the
 
 24 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 tidings had spread through the school that 
 " Cicely Frome was up to no end of a lark," and 
 everyone waited with hardly concealed im- 
 patience for its development. Even the 
 governesses got wind of it, and watched Cicely 
 like keen -eyed detectives, prepared at every 
 point, and ready to extinguish the "lark" in its 
 very first appearing. 
 
 They were all doomed to disappointment, 
 however, for the monotonous days passed on 
 with unvarying quiet, and Cicely remained a 
 model of good behaviour, her register still free 
 from bad - conduct marks, and her French 
 exercises correspondingly well done, it being 
 characteristic of her that of all her studies 
 French suffered most when she was on the war- 
 path of mischief. 
 
 When the girls found themselves defrauded 
 of their fun, they turned on the little Australian 
 with many murmurs. 
 
 " A regular sell, to keep us on the hooks like 
 this for nothing at all," grumbled Jessie Boyd, a 
 tall fair girl, whose frocks were always smart 
 and up-to-date, and who rarely suffered from a 
 scarcity of pocket money. 
 
 " I expect she was afraid to carry out her 
 ideas," sneered Edith Carrington, who was given
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 25 
 
 to keeping her good things to herself, and was 
 respected accordingly. 
 
 " Cicely is never afraid," cried the little 
 Australian, turning fiercely on her friend's 
 detractors, her eyes flashing angrily. 
 
 " Why doesn't she do it then ? " asked Belle 
 Murray, pushing her way into the group of girls 
 who were clustered round the little classroom 
 fire. It was a raw, cold day in early December, 
 and they had been driven in from their walk by 
 a Scotch mist that was changing by degrees 
 into a steady downpour of rain. 
 
 " I don't know, ask her yourself," retorted the 
 champion, who was rapidly losing her temper 
 under this cross-fire of interrogation. 
 
 " We have, but she won't say anything ; she 
 won't tell us ! " chorused the group. 
 
 "And she won't tell me either," admitted 
 Laura, piqued into the confession, though as a 
 rule she preferred to pose as the confidante of 
 Cicely, and to drop exasperating hints of what 
 she could tell if she chose. 
 
 After this a pretty abundant portion of cold 
 shoulder was meted out to Cicely, and she was 
 made to feel the resentment of her companions 
 for having disappointed them of their anticipated 
 thrill. But it did not appear to trouble her,
 
 26 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 although she was still quiet and thoughtful in 
 her manner, and given to long fits of meditation. 
 
 Meanwhile the practising for the concert went 
 on vigorously, the programme was drawn up, 
 the invitations sent out for an evening four 
 days before the end of term, and a delightful 
 flutter of excitement began to pervade the place. 
 
 Cicely, being one of the older girls, and a good 
 pianist also, was very much to the fore in the 
 programme, she was put down for a pianoforte 
 solo, the principal in two duets, and a leading 
 part in the final item of the evening, which was 
 arranged for three violins, two mandolins, a 
 guitar and piano ; and with all this in prospect, 
 Miss Gifford kindly excused her from any other 
 work during the two days immediately preceding 
 the eventful evening. 
 
 The nighfc of the concert was clear, fine, and 
 cold ; in the house the girls were moving about 
 in much nervous trepidation, whilst on the drive, 
 stretching down from the entrance door to the 
 gate, the cab wheels were crunching indentations 
 on the gravel, which would bring despair to the 
 heart of the old gardener on the morrow. 
 
 Miss Gifford's school concert was regarded as 
 an important event in the Christmas festivities 
 of Hawkesbury, and was always well patronised.
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 27 
 
 The two main schoolrooms, thrown into one 
 by means of folding doors, were filled with a 
 well - dressed throng ; who, later on, in the 
 twenty minutes' interval between the parts, 
 would saunter across the hall to the dining-room, 
 to discuss ices and lemonade, macaroons and 
 sandwiches, and admire the pretty effects of 
 fairy lamps lurking under Japanese fans, and 
 paper lanterns hung across the room on cords 
 tied to the picture rods. 
 
 Most of the girls were resplendent in new 
 frocks of varying costliness, according to the 
 depth of their parents' pockets. Cicely was in 
 plain white, unrelieved by bow or flower, and a 
 certain degree of nervousness had sent an 
 unusual colour into her cheeks, rendering her 
 plain face for once almost attractive. 
 
 She was one of the first on the platform, 
 taking her place modestly in the background, 
 and refusing all overtures towards a more 
 prominent position. Kind little Miss Sara 
 Gifford, who looked after the housekeeping, and 
 mothered the girls when they were ill, put this 
 modesty of hers down to shame on account of 
 the plainness of her frock, as contrasted with 
 the ribbons and laces and manifold furbelows of 
 her companions, and mentally resolved to tell
 
 28 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 her at the close of the evening how very well 
 the plain white frock became her, and brought 
 out the best points of her face and figure. 
 Subsequent events, however, drove this kindly 
 consoling from her mind entirely. 
 
 The first item, a duet between a big girl and 
 a little one, had been decorously applauded by 
 the audience, and two young violinists with 
 a few faint preliminary squeaks from their 
 instruments were leading off through a mazy 
 wilderness of trills and flourishes, when a 
 sudden confusion arose in the part of the room 
 nearest the platform, a lady sprang up with a 
 little scream of dismay, knocking over a tall 
 palm, which in its descent swept a little girl 
 from the platform, who received sundry and 
 divers scratches, likewise considerable damage to 
 her frock. 
 
 The duet came to a sudden stop ; the lady, 
 overwhelmed with confusion, apologised pro- 
 fusely, and tendered the unfortunate little girl a 
 bright new half-crown as compensation for her 
 scratches. She stated that a mouse had run 
 from somewhere over her feet, and the sight of 
 & mouse always unnerved her. 
 
 Miss Gifford accepted the apology with a 
 rsomewhat icy bow ; she was distinctly annoyed,
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 29 
 
 and deemed the appearance of the mouse to exist 
 only in the lady's brain. 
 
 The young violinists being perturbed and 
 upset by this unseemly interruption, were waved 
 aside for the present, and Cicely was ordered 
 forward for a pianoforte solo. 
 
 The first chords had scarcely died away, and 
 her fingers were flying up the keyboard in her 
 first run, when something went scampering along 
 the front of the platform, in full view of girls 
 and visitors, and even of Miss Gifford herself. 
 It was a mouse, a most unmistakable mouse, and 
 the confusion and disorder were past description ; 
 the girls tumbled backwards over each other in 
 their haste to get clear out of the way of a 
 creature so terrifying ; ladies stood on their 
 chairs and shrieked, in a perfect abandonment of 
 fear ; while gentlemen flicked their pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs about their boots, getting red in the 
 face and angry at the same time. 
 
 Miss Gifford's countenance was a sight to see, 
 whilst poor Miss Sara was crying with mortifica- 
 tion at such untoward disaster. 
 
 There was no smoothing the matter over this 
 time, and a proposal was made to clear the room 
 whilst the mouse was hunted for. Accordingly 
 the twenty minutes' interval was anticipated, the
 
 30 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 visitors trooped off to the dining-room to cool 
 their perturbation with ises pink and white and 
 yellow, and of flavours as numerous as their 
 hues ; while the girls hurried away to the 
 music-room, shutting the door carefully to keep 
 out the mouse. 
 
 Then the concert-room was taken possession 
 of by all the servants in a body, armed with 
 brushes, brooms, pokers, and other defensive and 
 offensive weapons, and after a tremendous amount 
 of noise and confusion the cook succeeded 
 in dealing the deathblow of the unfortunate 
 mouse with the big kitchen shovel, and bore the 
 mangled corpse in triumph to Miss Gifford. 
 
 That lady bestowed one fleeting glance on 
 the little battered body, then turning away with 
 a strong shiver of disgust mice being her most 
 particular aversion she led her guests back to 
 the concert-room once more : and the evening's 
 entertainment began again, and went smoothly 
 on for perhaps half an hour, at the expiration of 
 which time Jessie Boyd sprang up with a wild 
 scream, declaring that there was another mouse. 
 Instantly all was confusion again, the girls 
 pushed and scrambled, the audience rose in a 
 body, and the hubbub was extraordinary. 
 Laura Strong, the little Australian, was on the
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 31 
 
 verge of frightened sobbing, when, happening to 
 catch sight of Cicely standing in a corner con- 
 vulsed with laughter, it flashed upon her quick 
 brain that this must be the work of that young 
 lady. 
 
 This idea put quite a different colouring on 
 the affair, and her disposition for tears was 
 changed into an almost uncontrollable desire for 
 laughter. She could not get near to Cicely, 
 however, being separated by a surging, swaying 
 mass of girls, who were for the most part shriek- 
 ing wildly. 
 
 For a few moments this scene lasted, and then 
 Miss Gifford ordered the instant retirement to 
 their bedrooms of the girls and the governesses ; 
 after which, with a few words of vexed apology, 
 she dismissed her guests also, confessing herself 
 to be quite unequal to seeing her programme 
 carried through under existing conditions. 
 
 Not a little sympathy was felt and expressed 
 for her by the parents and friends of her pupils 
 as they took their departure ; and not a few 
 bestirred themselves to send the unfortunate 
 lady the timely present of a cat, each one 
 warranted a " thoroughly good mouser." 
 
 Loud was the grumbling of the girls next day 
 at their spoiled concert, Cicely's voice leading
 
 32 CICELY PRO ME 
 
 the general growl, whereat the little Australian 
 nearly choked with laughter, and grew so 
 suspiciously red in the face that she was at once 
 seized upon by two big girls and commanded 
 to confess the reason of her mirth. But this 
 small Colonial was loyal to the backbone, and, 
 moreover, she had only a suspicion to go upon, 
 therefore she merely said, with a meek air very 
 exasperating to her interrogators, " I was only 
 thinking how very silly we all must have looked, 
 standing on chairs and screaming because a 
 tiny, harmless mouse ran across the room." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, we looked silly, did we ? " said 
 Jessie Boyd, shaking her roughly. 
 
 " You did ; I didn't notice the others so 
 much," replied the child, with an impertinent 
 grimace at her senior, and promptly diving 
 beyond reach of the ready blow Jessie aimed at 
 her. 
 
 " I can't make out how the wretched little 
 animals came to get in the room at all ; mice 
 always clear out when there are people about," 
 remarked Belle Murray thoughtfully, with a 
 perplexed look on her face. 
 
 " Perhaps someone did it on purpose," sug- 
 gested Rosie Blake, a child of ten, with uncanny 
 eyes and a tangle of dark curly hair.
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 33 
 
 " Ugh ! no one would touch a mouse," said 
 Jessie, with a shudder. 
 
 " No girl perhaps, but a boy would ; my 
 brothers bring in a pocketful sometimes," replied 
 Rosie, shaking her curls out of her eyes. 
 
 "Cicely, Cicely, I have been simply dying to 
 get a chance to speak to you," whispered Laura, 
 coming into the music-room the next day and 
 finding her friend alone there. 
 
 Cicely blushed vividly, and had the grace to 
 look ashamed ; she had taken great pains to 
 avoid Laura since the eventful evening, and now 
 was fairly caught. 
 
 "How did you find out?" she asked in an 
 agitated tone, realising how serious was her 
 escapade now that it stood in such imminent 
 risk of discovery. 
 
 " I saw your face when they were all 
 struggling and screaming, and I nearly died of 
 laughter after that, though I made just as much 
 noise as the rest," went on Laura in breathless 
 eagerness. 
 
 " It was an awful sell ! " retorted Cicely, so 
 savagely that Laura looked at her in amazement. 
 
 " Why ? I thought it was splendid, and quite 
 the biggest lark you have ever done," said Laura 
 in an admiring tone. 
 3
 
 3 N 4 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 "The lark was all right enough, it was the 
 people who were such idiots ; fancy grown-up 
 men and women stampeding because a mouse 
 ran over their toes ! I had no idea that the 
 concert would be stopped, and I had only those 
 three mice, so if they had caught the last one 
 there would have been no further disturbance, 
 for one of the first got clear away," grumbled 
 Cicely in an injured tone. 
 
 The little Australian was speechless for 
 some minutes from violent, though suppressed, 
 laughter. Then she said, in a panting, half- 
 incoherent tone, " Cook says that ten cats were 
 sent yesterday, and six more have come this 
 morning ; they fight, too, so dreadfully that she 
 has had to tie them up like dogs." 
 
 Cicely did not laugh, however, and said 
 presently, " I'm dreadfully worried about it all, 
 for Miss Gifford is very angry, and suspicion 
 might fall on an innocent person a servant or 
 governess. Do you think I ought to 'fess before 
 I go?" 
 
 " Oh no, you'd get in an awful pickle ; the 
 Gifford would hang you almost, she is so mad 
 at the whole business," said Laura in a frightened 
 tone. 
 
 " I had better write to her then," replied
 
 IN THE SCHOOL 35 
 
 Cicely, with a little sigh of dissatisfaction 
 because of the lark that had gone so wrong. 
 
 " No, I have it ! " cried Laura, whirling round 
 the room in an ecstasy of delight ; " write to the 
 Editor of the Hawkesbury Gazette, and ask him 
 to put it in his paper ! " 
 
 " I couldn't do that ! " exclaimed Cicely, going 
 redder than ever now. 
 
 " Yes, you could ; he'd be certain to put it in 
 the paper ; and you needn't put your own name, 
 you know." 
 
 Cicely meditated with troubled gravity, whilst 
 Laura plied her with persuasions, until at length 
 she began to yield, and finally the two girls sat 
 down in a quiet corner to try their 'prentice 
 hands at journalism.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 HURRIED AWAY 
 
 HE Misses Frome had not been present 
 at the school concert which ended 
 in so much confusion. They lived 
 at Oldstock, a fifteen miles' journey 
 from Hawkesbury as the crow flies, and fully 
 twenty-five by the railway, which indulged in a 
 much more circuitous route. 
 
 They knew the town well, however, and kept 
 themselves posted in the various items of interest 
 taking place there. 
 
 On the Friday evening following her return 
 from school, Cicely, who had been more or less 
 ill at ease all day, brought in the Hawkesbury 
 Gazette, which the paper boy had just left, and 
 laid it down beside Miss Selina Frome, with a 
 flutter at her heart which extended to her fingers, 
 causing them to tremble violently. 
 
 "Are you cold, child?" asked the old lady 
 
 36
 
 HURRIED AWAY 37 
 
 kindly, as she fumbled for her spectacles in order 
 to read the news to her half-blind sister, Miss 
 Eliza. 
 
 " No, thank you," Cicely answered, turning 
 quickly and leaving the room out of sheer 
 nervousness, to creep away to the fireless draw- 
 ing-room and play jerky runs on the wheezy 
 old piano there, whilst the two old ladies pored 
 over the news-sheet in the other room. 
 
 Presently there was a tap at the door, and 
 Molly the maid entered with a quick little ex- 
 clamation of surprise at finding the young lady 
 playing the piano in the dark, "when it was 
 a'most cold enough to freeze your fingers to the 
 keys." 
 
 " What do you want ? " asked Cicely in an in- 
 different tone, though she guessed what the 
 answer would be. 
 
 " It's Miss Selina, she wants you in the dining- 
 room please, miss," replied Molly, making swift 
 retreat towards her snug little kitchen, for the 
 snow was three inches deep on the ground, and 
 the thermometer falling still. 
 
 It might have been a broiling July day, how- 
 ever, judging by the flushed condition of Cicely's 
 cheeks as she walked across the hall and into 
 the room where the sisters were sitting.
 
 38 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 " Cicely, there is a most extraordinary para- 
 graph in the Gazette about Miss Gifford's school 
 concert ; you never said anything about it being 
 broken up in disorder ? " and Miss Selina peered 
 a little suspiciously at her young cousin from 
 under her spectacles, though in an ordinary way 
 she was one of the most unsuspicious of people. 
 
 Cicely paused, hesitated, flushed, and finally 
 walked up to the old lady in a sort of desperation. 
 " May I read the paragraph, please ? " she asked, 
 holding out her hand for the paper. 
 
 Miss Selina gave it to her without a word, 
 though usually she protested loudly against the 
 practice of permitting young girls like Cicely to 
 read newspapers. 
 
 The girl's hands shook so that she could hardly 
 hold the paper, and a curious blindness made the 
 printed letters dance a jig backwards and forwards 
 across the broad sheet, until, controlling her 
 nervousness by a strong effort, she was able to 
 read 
 
 " The disastrous ending to Miss Gifiord's school concert 
 was owing to the mischievous propensities of one of the 
 girls leaving at the end of the term, who had three live 
 mice in her pocket, which she turned loose among the 
 audience. The gentlemen present appeared fully as much 
 disturbed as the ladies, and the entertainment broke up amid 
 great confusion "
 
 HURRIED AWAY 39 
 
 She read the paragraph right through, and 
 then gave back the paper with a sigh of relief. 
 " It will be all right now, and the wrong person 
 will not get blamed, for Miss Clifford must know 
 well enough that none of the other girls who 
 left this term would dare to carry live mice in 
 their pockets, or turn them out afterwards 
 either," she said gravely. 
 
 The paper dropped from Miss Selina's hand, 
 and she rose to her feet, staring at the girl as 
 though wondering if she, or Cicely, had been 
 suddenly bereft of her senses. Miss Eliza also 
 rose, though with difficulty, for she was old and 
 feeble, and for a long moment they stood so, 
 with Cicely between them, and then Miss Selina 
 broke the silence by asking in an agitated 
 tone 
 
 " Cousin Cicely, did you turn those mice out 
 of your pocket ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Cicely, choking back some- 
 thing that would have developed into a sob 
 if it had not been strangled in its first begin- 
 ning. 
 
 " But who discovered it and put it in the 
 paper ? " demanded Miss Selina, with a sound of 
 tears in her voice. 
 
 " I put it in the paper, to prevent mistakes,"
 
 40 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 declared Cicely, breathing more freely now that 
 it was all out, and not caring much as to what 
 punishment awaited her. Having had the fun, 
 it was only fair that she should pay the penalty, 
 which at the worst might only be solitary con- 
 finement and bread-and-water diet for the next 
 few weeks. 
 
 Miss Selina dropped into her chair in a 
 collapse of dismay, and Miss Eliza did likewise ; 
 after this the former felt for her handkerchief 
 and began to weep, upon which the other old 
 lady promptly followed suit. 
 
 If they had stormed Cicely would have borne 
 their raging with a stoical indifference, but as 
 they only sat still and cried she became very 
 uncomfortable, sitting down eventually between 
 the two and joining her lamentations to 
 theirs. 
 
 The tears acted as a safety valve all round, 
 and cleared the air. Cicely was not condemned 
 to solitary meditation during Christmas, nor to 
 satisfy her appetite on the meagre diet she had 
 anticipated. But she had to write a letter of 
 apology to the not unreasonably offended Miss 
 Gifford, and then her departure was hurried 
 with all possible speed, the Misses Frome 
 feeling totally unequal to the task of keeping in
 
 HURRIED AWAY 41 
 
 order a girl so lost to a due sense of the 
 proprieties of life. 
 
 Cicely was very meek and subdued during the 
 remainder of her stay at Oldstock. And the 
 sense of shame at her escapade, which had first 
 developed at the sight of Miss Selina's distress, 
 was deepened, curiously enough, by the letters 
 from her ex-schoolfellows, applauding the lark, 
 and metaphorically carrying her on the shoulders 
 of their applause. 
 
 She grew sick of the very sound of the lark, 
 so-called, before she left England, and never 
 opened a letter without a shiver of dread as to 
 whether it might be mentioned therein. 
 
 But in spite of the efforts to hurry her de- 
 parture, and the anxiety of Bernard to have her 
 in his home, there were delays on delays, and 
 it was past the middle of February before she 
 bade farewell to Oldstock and her ancient 
 cousins resident there. 
 
 She was to travel under the protection of an 
 officer's wife going to join her husband in 
 Trincomalee, whilst her own destination was 
 Batticaloa, where Bernard had arranged to meet 
 her. 
 
 There were few tears in the parting, and no 
 real regret ; the ancient sisters had each other,
 
 42 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 and needed no one else ; whilst Cicely was 
 eager now for the change of travel, for the 
 sight of the sea, which she had never yet seen 
 save in pictures, and for the new life awaiting 
 her.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 OUTWARD BOUND 
 
 N two days Cicely was as much at 
 home on board ship as though she 
 had taken a voyage before ; and 
 memories of her sailor-father stirred 
 restlessly, called forth by the briny odours oi 
 the ocean, and the nautical sayings and doings 
 all around her. 
 
 Mrs. Farquharson, the officer's wife in whose 
 care Cicely had been placed for the voyage, was 
 ill for the first part of the time, and confined to 
 her cabin ; so that Cicely was left pretty much 
 to her own devices for a while, and spent the 
 clays in the manner that seemed best to her. 
 There were young people among the passengers 
 with whom she fraternised readily enough, 
 taking a leading position in any fun going on, 
 and enjoying herself immensely. 
 
 One day during their passage through the
 
 44 CICEL Y JEROME 
 
 Mediterranean, the passengers (the more sober 
 part of them, at least) were electrified by tidings 
 that a mail-bag had been dropped from a flying 
 machine during the night with letters for the 
 passengers. 
 
 At first no one took the tidings seriously, but 
 when, during breakfast-time, an unmistakable 
 G.P.O. bag was brought into the saloon, plenti- 
 fully plastered with big daubs of sealing-wax, a 
 little stir of anticipation was observable among 
 those sitting at table. 
 
 " Are there newspapers too ? " asked Major 
 Vincent, a military man with a fiery face sug- 
 gestive of a volcanic temperament within. 
 
 " There was a message left, sir, that no news- 
 papers would be forthcoming until the next 
 delivery, owing to a gigantic strike of London 
 compositors," replied the stolid official in charge 
 of the bag. 
 
 Major Vincent stared suspiciously at the 
 man's impassive face, but seeing no gleam 
 of mischief, no lightening of its gravity, he 
 turned away again to watch the captain, who 
 was rapidly sorting the somewhat meagre 
 contents of that mysterious bag. 
 
 A few letters there were, but circulars were in 
 greater abundance, bulky documents from com-
 
 OUTWARD SOUND 45 
 
 pany promoters, catalogues from furniture 
 dealers, millinery patterns, choice wine lists, 
 and prospectuses of gold-mining companies. 
 The remarkable thing about them all being that 
 they all appeared to be addressed to the wrong 
 people ; for instance, the irate Major Vincent 
 had a great bundle of matter from a well-known 
 millinery house, and stared aghast at the array 
 of impossible new Paris bonnets therein depicted. 
 Whilst the Irishman, Mr. O'Biley, who was in 
 his way a second Father Matthew, and quite a 
 bigoted teetotaller, had a little pile of wine lists 
 lying beside his plate, at which he was looking 
 with a great amount of disgust, for most of them 
 bore somewhere about them, in unpleasantly 
 aggressive type, " A continuance of your es- 
 teemed orders shall receive our prompt 
 attention." 
 
 A price list from Whitely's was lying in front 
 of a severe looking gentleman, who had aristo- 
 crat written all over him, from the top of his 
 carefully brushed hair down to the tips of his 
 nails. He was annoyed apparently, and 
 frowning heavily, when the lady sitting next 
 him burst into merry laughter over the letter 
 that had fallen to her share. 
 
 " This," she said, holding out the epistle,
 
 46 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 "purports to be from Rider Haggard's She, 
 and contains some valuable advice upon how to 
 keep young. ' She ' is a little uncertain in her 
 grammar, and trips more than once in her 
 spelling, but that of course is not wonderful 
 considering the difficulties of education when 
 'She' was young." 
 
 A girl a little older than Cicely, and sitting 
 farther down the table, grew rather red in the 
 face at this juncture, and became suspiciously 
 engrossed by her breakfast. 
 
 Mrs. Farquharson, who by this time had 
 sufficiently recovered to come to table, was also 
 reading a letter, and appeared to be somewhat 
 mystified by the contents. "Mine is from Zadkiel, 
 of almanac fame, and is chiefly confined to 
 observations on meteorological subjects, with a 
 word of caution at the end to the effect that 
 anyone travelling with Cicely Frome will prob- 
 ably encounter unsettled weather and squalls 
 in mid-ocean." 
 
 The passengers by this time were beginning 
 to understand that they had been hoaxed, the 
 wooden-faced official had disappeared, probably 
 to enjoy a laugh on the quiet, and most of the 
 victims were exchanging letters, or admiring 
 the careful and elaborate workmanship of the
 
 OUTWARD BOUND 47 
 
 forged post-marks, when Mr. O'Riley and the 
 aristocratic man, whose name was Cornelius 
 Beverly, began to talk, and Cicely, who was 
 sitting close by, to listen. 
 
 " Practical joking is always the refuge of the 
 empty-headed and the inane on shipboard," re- 
 marked Mr. Beverly, with a lofty disdain that 
 brought a gleam of angry defiance into the 
 listener's eyes. 
 
 " Yes ; and it is so very silly," retorted Mr. 
 O'Riley, tearing viciously into little bits a price 
 list of sparkling and dry champagne. 
 
 "I remember," went on the other, "that last 
 fatal voyage of the Eastern Star we had a 
 constant succession of the silliest jokes per- 
 petrated upon us, until existence became almost 
 intolerable." 
 
 "Were you on board the Eastern Star in 
 her last voyage ? " asked O'Riley quickly. 
 
 " Yes, I was one of the five passengers saved, 
 five only out of a ship's company of three 
 hundred and twenty-seven souls ! " and Mr. 
 Beverly swelled visibly with a sort of gloomy 
 importance, emanating from his connection with 
 a tragedy so direful. 
 
 " Awful catastrophe, wasn't it ! How long 
 ago was it, three years ? " O'Riley said musingly,
 
 48 CICELY FROME 
 
 trying to fix the date in its right place, yet 
 failing in his effort. 
 
 " Five years ago last June," replied the other, 
 still in the same tone of portentous solemnity, 
 whilst Cicely almost held her breath to listen. 
 " We were caught in a heavy fog off the south 
 coast of Ireland, and struck on the rocks in 
 Roaring Water Bay." 
 
 " I know," replied O'Riley ; " but the puzzle 
 to me was how you ever got so far out of your 
 course, the captain must have known that he 
 was on dangerous ground." 
 
 " It was a puzzle to a good many people, and 
 it will never be solved in this world, for you see 
 those of us who were saved were all passengers, 
 knowing nothing of navigation, and we could 
 therefore throw no light on the working of the 
 vessel, or tell how often the soundings were 
 taken." 
 
 Cicely was growing very white in the face 
 now, and her hands were clasped very tightly 
 together to keep her from crying out in her pain. 
 But the two men went on with their conversa- 
 tion, not heeding her in the least, and the rest of 
 the people were laughing heartily at some joke 
 emanating from the contents of the post-bag. 
 
 " Did the Board of Trade inquiry think that
 
 OUTWARD BOUND 49 
 
 no one was to blame in the matter then ? " asked 
 O'Kiley, who was still reducing the noxious wine 
 lists to waste paper with nervous ringers, that 
 ripped and tore in an irritating manner well 
 calculated to set people's teeth on edge if they 
 listened to it. 
 
 "People are careful what they say of the 
 dead ; it is a superstition that is almost instinct 
 in the race. You see, dead men can't defend 
 themselves against wrongful imputations and 
 allegations not wholly true. Perhaps if any of 
 the officers or the captain had been saved we 
 might have seen a different ending to the 
 inquiry," replied Mr. Beverly, with the air of a 
 man who had made his own deductions and 
 found them more important than those of other 
 people. 
 
 Cicely was quick enough to detect this strain 
 of hidden meaning in his tone, but she could 
 not trust herself to listen to what he might say 
 next, and with the instinct similar to that which 
 makes a wounded animal creep to cover that its 
 suffering may be hidden, she rose hurriedly and 
 left the table, intent only on reaching a place of 
 solitude before the breaking down of her self- 
 control should betray her to the curious eyes of 
 her fellow- voyagers.
 
 50 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 So she crept away to the cabin which she 
 shared with Mrs. Farquharson, and sobbed 
 stormily until her passion was spent, and ex- 
 haustion stopped the flow of her tears. 
 
 How she hated that well-preserved, aristo- 
 cratic Mr. Beverly, who had dared to insinuate 
 that the loss of the Eastern Star was as much 
 fault as accident ! He would probably have 
 gone further, and openly accused the captain of 
 negligence if only that captain had not been 
 dead. It was awful, horrible ! And the poor girl 
 almost raved in her impotent grieving, until she 
 was too worn out for anything but to lie still 
 and moan. 
 
 But she was soon missed from the merry 
 saloon party, and sought out in her retirement. 
 To all questioning, however, she only replied 
 with a mournful shake of her head, which, being 
 by her companions imputed to sea - sickness, 
 caused some merriment among those at whom 
 in her turn she had previously pointed with 
 scornful mirth. 
 
 They left her alone, then, when they had in- 
 dulged in a few harmless sallies of wit at her 
 expense, and she remained all day stretched out 
 in her berth, sometimes crying, sometimes 
 indulging in fits of passionate anger, and some-
 
 OUTWARD SOUND 51 
 
 times trying to recall all that had ever been 
 told her concerning the manner of her father's 
 death. 
 
 Then she remembered how very reticent her 
 mother and Bernard had been on the subject. 
 And how her old grandfather had even refused 
 to talk of the catastrophe, although he was 
 sufficiently garrulous on all other topics, and 
 would talk by the hour if only he could find 
 someone willing to listen to him. 
 
 This avoidance of the subject she had always 
 attributed to the fact of its being so exceedingly 
 full of pain. But, if what this man had in- 
 sinuated was true, there might have been 
 another reason for their reserve they might 
 have deemed his death to have been but the 
 just expiation of an awful blunder in navigation, 
 or some piece of stupendous carelessness scarcely 
 removed from a crime. 
 
 To lie and think became at last intolerable 
 even to poor Cicely, and in the evening, whilst 
 the others were at dinner, she dressed herself 
 languidly, and went on deck to let the breeze 
 cool her hot brow and efface the tell-tale traces 
 of tears from her cheeks. 
 
 It was a warm, pleasant evening, with a light 
 breeze blowing, and the sun dropping like a
 
 52 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 huge ball of fire into the refulgent waters of the 
 glowing west. The deck was deserted, saving 
 for some of the crew, who were altering the 
 awning and getting ready for a dance that was 
 in prospect when the passengers came up from 
 dining. 
 
 Cicely strolled to a nook in the stern, which 
 she especially delighted in, and which to-night 
 gave her a glorious view of the magnificent 
 sun-setting. 
 
 Her head was aching badly, and she was 
 weak and languid from her violent grieving, 
 but she was gathering up her courage towards 
 the carrying out of a resolve, and bracing her 
 nerves in the invigorating air to the point 
 where her desires tended. 
 
 Her resolve was nothing less than to seek 
 out Mr. Beverly, and ask him to give her a 
 clear and full account of the wreck of her 
 father's vessel, keeping her own identity secret 
 the while. 
 
 But she was only an ex -schoolgirl, of no 
 special importance on board, whilst Mr. Cornelius 
 Beverly was a very grand gentleman, with 
 somewhat magnificent views concerning his own 
 position, and exclusive withal. It was highly 
 probable that he would regard her request in
 
 OUTWARD BOUND 53 
 
 the light of a great impertinence, and treat it 
 accordingly. 
 
 Just then, as though to give her the 
 opportunity she wanted, Mr. Beverly slowly 
 approached the place where she was sitting, 
 attracted doubtless by the splendour of the 
 westering sun. 
 
 It was now, if she dared to do it. And 
 being by nature courageous, and rendered 
 desperate by her anxiety to know the worst, 
 she came close to where he was standing, 
 asking softly 
 
 " May I speak to you, if you please, sir ? " 
 
 He turned sharply with an annoyed expres- 
 sion. Having come on deck early in order 
 to be quiet, it was displeasing to him to be 
 accosted in this manner. 
 
 " What do you wish to say ? " he said, knit- 
 ting his brows, and thinking that of all classes 
 of society schoolgirls were the most objection- 
 able.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE SURVIVOR 
 
 ICELY hesitated, the very pronounced 
 unfriendliness of his manner made 
 it difficult for her to ask a favour 
 at his hands. Yet if she did not 
 seize the opportunity which now presented 
 itself the chances were that she might never 
 have another, for Bernard would not tell her, 
 and she was going right away from other means 
 of information. 
 
 " Would you mind telling me about the 
 wreck of the Eastern Star, I so very much 
 want to know?" she pleaded, with a wistful 
 look in her grey eyes, that were wont to 
 twinkle with gleams of mischief more often 
 than to take on an expression of pathos. 
 
 The question was unexpected, and for a 
 moment Mr. Beverly hesitated, then recovering, 
 turned on his heel, saying, with an air of bored
 
 THE SURVIVOR 55 
 
 weariness, " I have no time or inclination for 
 telling stories to children, and the history of 
 that awful tragedy is by no means suitable for 
 the ears of young people." 
 
 " Oh stay, sir, for just a moment. I did not 
 mean to be rude," she panted, getting in his 
 path, and looking at him imploringly ; she 
 would have seized his arm, to prevent his 
 moving away, had she dared, but Mr. Cornelius 
 Beverly was sufficiently awe-inspiring to make 
 such an action impossible. 
 
 He stopped, however, with a surprised look, 
 wondering at her importunity. " Why do you 
 want to know about that wreck ? It does not 
 concern you in any way ? " he asked curiously. 
 
 Cicely's heart was beating with loud heavy 
 throbs, and there was a surging, singing noise 
 in her ears, but she mustered her courage with 
 an effort, though now her eyes were swimming 
 in most unwonted tears. " The captain was my 
 father, my dear, dear father, and I want to 
 know about his death. I was such a child 
 then, and they told me nothing saving that he 
 was dead." 
 
 He started, and looked very uncomfortable 
 for a minute, then said kindly, " My poor child, 
 I had no idea of this."
 
 5 6 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 Cicely shook herself in an admonitory fashion ; 
 his supercilious indifference had been suffici- 
 ently hard to bear, but his pity was absolutely 
 intolerable. 
 
 "I must know about it, if you please, and 
 you can forget that I am his daughter. I would 
 not have told you, only you thought my asking 
 was mere curiosity." 
 
 "Your friends would not care to have you 
 told, probably," he answered in a yielding tone, 
 leading her to the seat she had quitted and 
 sitting down beside her. 
 
 "There are none left except Bernard." 
 
 "Who is Bernard?" 
 
 " My step - brother ; his name is Bernard 
 Alderson, and he lives in Ceylon." 
 
 "And what is your name?" asked Mr. 
 Beverly, presumably with a view to gaining time. 
 
 " Cicely Frome. Bernard was mother's son," 
 she explained, with great inward chafing at his 
 reluctance to give her the information she so 
 greatly desired. 
 
 "And your mother?" 
 
 " She died six months after father," replied 
 Cicely, winking hard to keep back her tears. 
 
 " It is such a painful story," objected Mr. 
 Beverly in a musing tone. In his heart he was
 
 THE SURVIVOR 57 
 
 not disinclined for the narration, for it was a 
 very long time since he had found a listener to 
 whom the telling was fresh, and he loved to 
 live over again his one heroic act, which had 
 saved the life of a man, and lifted his own on 
 to a higher level in consequence. 
 
 " I must know all about it," panted Cicely, 
 with a breathless emphasis in her tone. 
 
 He cleared his throat with a formal little 
 cough which was a habit of his, and then he 
 said, " The Eastern Star was homeward bound 
 from New York to Liverpool, and we had made 
 so far a very good passage indeed, though the 
 weather had been more foggy than was usual 
 for the time of year. There had been a large 
 amount of fun and jollity on board, and the 
 passengers were in the highest possible spirits. 
 A grand entertainment was organised for what 
 was expected to be the next to the last night 
 on board, and the feasting and frolic were kept 
 up until nearly midnight. The captain was 
 called down into the saloon, and thanked with 
 great acclamation for his care and kindness on 
 the voyage But you are crying, this is too 
 much for you ! " he exclaimed, twisting round 
 to get a look at her averted face, down w T hich 
 the tears were streaming like rain.
 
 5 8 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 Cicely gulped down her sobs, and endeav- 
 oured to answer in a steady tone. " No, it is 
 not too much for me to bear, thank you, though 
 I can't help crying, because I loved my father 
 better than anyone. If you will please keep 
 your head turned the other way you won't see 
 me cry, and indeed, sir, I cannot help it." 
 
 Again Mr. Beverly coughed, but he did as he 
 was requested, and refrained from looking at his 
 listener, even pretending not to hear when she 
 sobbed, although he flinched instinctively from 
 the pain he was giving, and determined to guard 
 his speech carefully that no hint of blame should 
 attach itself to the name of the captain, what- 
 ever his own private theories on the subject 
 might be. 
 
 " When Captain Frome had suitably replied, 
 he went on deck again, for there was a thick 
 fog, and he had been on the bridge most of the 
 evening, as we were getting near to the south 
 coast of Ireland, and it was impossible to see 
 where we were going. 
 
 " I too went on deck for a smoke before 
 turning in, and was walking up and down for 
 an hour, perhaps more, when there came a dull 
 scraping sound, and a shiver seemed to go 
 through the vessel. There was instant con-
 
 THE SURVIVOR 59 
 
 fusion on board, though, owing to most of the 
 passengers being in their berths, it was not so 
 great as it otherwise would have been. I ran 
 forward and asked what was the matter, and 
 the captain called out that we had certainly 
 struck, but he did not think that much harm 
 was done. 
 
 " Then suddenly one of the officers shrieked 
 out in an awful voice that we were sinking, and 
 started to fight his way through the throng of 
 half-frenzied people down to the engine-room to 
 turn off steam, while the captain gave the order 
 for the boats to be lowered. 
 
 "Then began the most terrible fight for life 
 that I have ever heard of, maddened men and 
 women struggling to get into the boats, children 
 screaming with terror, officers shouting orders 
 which no one heeded, and the captain alone 
 standing motionless on the bridge. I knew I 
 stood no chance of reaching the boats, nor even 
 of getting one of the life-belts that were being 
 rapidly served out by the men in charge, so I 
 rushed backwards towards the stern, which was 
 deserted now, and, buttoning up the thick over- 
 coat I had on, prepared to take my chance. By 
 great good fortune there was a big air cushion 
 lying on one of the deck chairs as I passed, and
 
 60 CICELY FROME 
 
 I seized it gladly, fastening it to my coat by a 
 loop that had been made for the purpose of 
 securing it to the chair." 
 
 " But didn't you try to save anyone else be- 
 sides yourself? " asked Cicely, interrupting him. 
 
 "There was no chance, you can do nothing 
 with people when they are mad like that. And 
 besides I did not know that I could save myself 
 even," Mr. Beverly replied, a little frown of 
 annoyance, or it might have been pain, creasing 
 his forehead. 
 
 " Please go on," pleaded Cicely, fearful lest she 
 had offended him. 
 
 " The deck was sloping steeply now, for the 
 boat was settling bows-foremost, and I plainly 
 saw that if I did not take care I should be sucked 
 down, in the vortex, so I clambered on to the 
 deck rail and took a header into the water, 
 trusting to the air-cushion to keep me afloat until 
 I could find some wreckage to cling to, or until 
 daylight should reveal the shore near which we 
 had come to grief. 
 
 " I don't think that I had been swimming for 
 more than two minutes, certainly not more than 
 three, when with a hissing, roaring sound the. 
 vessel suddenly sank, and an awful shriek rang 
 out from the poor wretches on board ; one boat
 
 The Survivor. CICELY FROME, p. 61.
 
 THE SURVIVOR 61 
 
 load had got clear away from the ship, I believe, 
 but it was swamped from overcrowding. It was 
 intensely dark after the lights of the boat had 
 gone, and awfully lonely. Presently I heard a 
 shout, and answering it, discovered that a man 
 was floating near me on a spar from the wreck ; 
 we got close together after that, and having the 
 good fortune to bump up against an empty 
 barrel, I secured it to the other man's plank and 
 scrambled up beside him. It was well that I did, 
 for he was growing numb with exposure and 
 cold, and in momentary danger of slipping off 
 his plank. I found he could not swim either, 
 and as he had no life-belt I was under the 
 necessity of fastening my air cushion to him, 
 though in so doing I greatly diminished my own 
 chance of escape. 
 
 " All night we drifted in the thick darkness, 
 for the fog did not lift, and by the silence we 
 judged ourselves to be the sole survivors of the 
 ship's company, and, for aught we knew, we might 
 be miles from land. Happily for us the dawn 
 comes early in June, and our eyes were gladdened 
 sooner than we expected by the welcome day- 
 light. 1 say our eyes, but it would be more 
 correct to say my eyes, for my companion was by 
 this time unconscious, and needing all my care
 
 62 CICELY FROME 
 
 to keep him from slipping off our frail raft and 
 disappearing in the water. 
 
 " But even with daylight the fog did not lift, 
 and because I felt my own strength beginning to 
 fail I gathered up my energies to shout as long 
 and loudly as I could, in the hope of attracting 
 some fishermen returning from a night's fishing. 
 After a time I heard an answering shout, and 
 had the joy of hearing the splash of oars on the 
 water. I hallooed back as loudly as I could, 
 urging my unseen deliverers to make all speed 
 to save me, as my condition was very desperate 
 indeed. By the time the boat was alongside, 
 however, and rough but kindly voices were ex- 
 claiming at our plight, I fainted, and knew no 
 more until I found myself on a bed in a fisher- 
 man's cottage on the shores of Roaring Water 
 Bay." 
 
 " And then ? " asked Cicely in feverish ex- 
 citement. 
 
 "Child, there is nothing more to tell," he 
 answered, " nothing at all saving the finding of 
 the bodies day after day, for weeks and months 
 following. The man who was my companion 
 was saved, and three others, who, like ourselves, 
 had secured wreckage to which they could cling." 
 
 " The captain was his body found ? " asked
 
 THE SURVIVOR 63 
 
 Cicely in a low, strained voice, resolving that if 
 ever she became rich enough she would go ort 
 pilgrimage to the spot where he lay. 
 
 But Mr. Beverly answered sadly enough, 
 quenching even that small consolation at its 
 birth, " No, not more than half of those on 
 board were ever seen again. The officer who so 
 pluckily fought his way through the thronging 
 people down to the engine-room to turn off the 
 steam came ashore two days latfer at Clonaberry, 
 five miles from the wreck." 
 
 " Yet the captain was on the bridge at the 
 time, you said ? " she queried softly. 
 
 " Yes, I saw him there myself, and one would 
 have expected his body to be one of the 
 first to be found, but the theory was that it 
 got entangled in the wreckage and so held 
 down." 
 
 " And was he to blame ? You said this morn- 
 ing that" and, unable to finish the sentence, 
 she turned round to look at her companion. 
 
 He was greatly embarrassed, even distressed, 
 and answered deprecatingly, "The Board of 
 Inquiry left it an open question, and you must 
 be content to do the same. He was your father, 
 and you loved him, love him still, and drop a 
 filial tear to his memory if you will, but do not
 
 64 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 fret yourself over questions that only death can 
 answer." 
 
 "But you said" began Cicely, when he 
 stopped her abruptly. 
 
 " What I said concerns you not at all, and you 
 must forget it as though it had never been 
 uttered. Now it is time for you to go below. 
 You can tell Mrs. Farquharson of our conversa- 
 tion if you will, but, on the other hand, if you do 
 not care to talk of it I shall not do so either." 
 
 Cicely looked at him gratefully, dimly under- 
 standing that on such a subject silence was best. 
 
 " Thank you, I shall never forget your kind- 
 ness," she answered brokenly, and hurried below, 
 to cry herself to sleep with pitying grief for the 
 long dead sailor-father who had gone to his end, 
 weighted with the responsibility of so many 
 perishing fellow-creatures.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 TERRA FIRMA ONCE MORE 
 
 FTER the evening when he had told 
 the story of the wreck of the Eastern 
 Star, Mr. Beverly avoided Cicely, as 
 though afraid lest she should question 
 him further on the subject. But now that she 
 knew so much, she shrank in her heart from 
 hearing more, and was rather glad than otherwise 
 that he should make no overtures towards a 
 friendly understanding. 
 
 During the latter part of the voyage she lost 
 her fine How of spirits, and took to moping, a 
 condition that aroused first the curiosity of her 
 companions and then their contempt. She was 
 no longer the leader in any fun and frolic that 
 might be on hand, she was not even a sharer in 
 it, and quickly slipped to an unregarded place 
 in the background. 
 
 A short time before such a position would 
 5
 
 66 CICEL Y JEROME 
 
 have been intolerable to her, but in her state of 
 grieving for her father's fate she was indifferent 
 to the neglect, and really glad for an opportunity 
 for undisturbed quiet. In her heart she was 
 dreading the meeting with Bernard, now that 
 she had been made wise as to the reason for 
 his reticence on the subject of Captain Frome's 
 tragic end. 
 
 Bernard had always been kind, a trifle dicta- 
 torial perhaps, but thoughtful for her comfort, 
 and even indulgent. Yet, with the quick in- 
 stincts of a child, she knew that he did not like 
 her father, and that in heart he must keenly 
 have resented his mother's second marriage, 
 even though he might have made no outward 
 rebellion. 
 
 If her father's memory had been untarnished 
 by the shadow of a doubt this probably would 
 never have troubled her, but now that she was 
 going to live in Bernard's home, and be de- 
 pendent on him, with this knowledge of distrust 
 hidden in her heart, heavy and dismal fore- 
 bodings came upon her, spoiling the bright days 
 of ocean travel for her, and filling the future 
 with gloom and apprehension. 
 
 Mrs. Farquharson did not trouble about her, 
 that lady's ideas concerning the duties and
 
 TERRA FIRM A ONCE MORE 67 
 
 responsibilities of a chaperone were of a very 
 hazy and indistinct kind, and consisted princi- 
 pally in leaving the girl in her charge to take 
 care of herself. So that provided Cicely was in 
 her berth by half-past ten o'clock at night, and 
 did not obtrude herself unpleasantly during the 
 day, Mrs. Farquharson was satisfied, and did not 
 trouble further. 
 
 They dropped anchor opposite to Batticaloa 
 late at night, and early next morning Cicely was 
 wakened by the stewardess, who said that a 
 gentleman was on . board from the town and 
 asking for her. 
 
 With joyful haste, her forebodings momentarily 
 forgotten, Cicely dressed herself hurriedly and 
 ran upstairs on deck. 
 
 It was four years since she had seen Bernard, 
 and she found it hard to recognise in the bronzed 
 and bearded man, who was talking to the 
 captain, the pale-faced, slender young step- 
 brother ; while Bernard on his part was surprised 
 to find her looking so nearly grown-up. 
 
 " You are very like our mother too," he said 
 softly, his tone just touched with a tender regret ; 
 " like she was when I first knew her, years 
 before you were born, Cicely." 
 
 She flushed with pleasure at his approbation,
 
 68 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 though a cold little wonder crept in as to 
 whether he would have been as pleased with her 
 if she had resembled her father instead of her 
 mother. 
 
 " I did not think that you would come so 
 soon, Bernard ; how well you timed your journey 
 to get here so promptly," she said, thinking how 
 different he was altogether from what her 
 imagination had painted. 
 
 Bernard laughed. " I have been waiting in 
 Batticaloa for five days, so my journey was not 
 so well managed as you suppose," he replied ; 
 then turned to answer some question of the 
 captain's anent the success of coffee growing in 
 his district. 
 
 " Coffee is like many other things, pays very 
 well when you look after it properly, and don't 
 trust too much to it either. I grow corn as well 
 as coffee on my plantation, and all kinds of 
 vegetables, so that if the main crop should fail 
 I am still in no danger of starving," he said, 
 with the air of a man who has found the secret 
 of prosperity. 
 
 "Ah, you have water then. I was in the 
 island for a few weeks some years ago, and all 
 I saw was interminable plains scorched to a 
 brick-dust brown, alive with mosquitoes and
 
 TERRA FIRMA ONCE MORE 69 
 
 other similar pests," remarked the captain, with 
 a shrug of disgust at the recollection. 
 
 "You must have been unfortunate in your 
 district then, for we regard it very differently, 
 and are tempted to imagine sometimes that the 
 old geographers would have been more correct 
 had they located the Garden of Eden in Ceylon," 
 said the other, with the honest pride in the land 
 of his adoption which most Colonials feel when 
 success is crowning their efforts. 
 
 There were several passengers besides Cicely 
 going off at Batticaloa, and these with their 
 luggage being quickly transferred to the little 
 steam-tug lying alongside, the good-byes were 
 spoken, and the small boat glided landwards to 
 where thick fringes of palm trees crowded right 
 down to the water's edge. 
 
 " I don't see any houses ; there is a town, isn't 
 there?" Cicely asked, surveying the wooded 
 shore in some bewilderment. 
 
 " Yes ; that is a lagoon, running many miles 
 along the coast, with still water inside, and 
 beyond that land again, and the town. A queer 
 old place it is too, and not very pleasant to live 
 in either, I should think," Bernard answered, 
 surveying the coast -line with an air of dis- 
 approval.
 
 70 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Too many crocodiles, too many mosquitoes, 
 too many leeches, too much ague, too much 
 malarial fever, in short, too much of everything 
 you don't want, and not enough of what you 
 do," said he, calling her attention a minute later 
 to the first glimpse of the town to be seen as 
 they entered a narrow water-way dividing the 
 wooded lagoon. 
 
 " Crocodiles ! " cried Cicely, with accents of 
 horror, recalling certain blood-curdling stories 
 of their man-eating proclivities. 
 
 " Of course ; we have them in the Mataganga, 
 though ours are neither so numerous nor so 
 large. You will find a good many novelties, 
 little sister, and not all of them pleasant ones ; 
 but I hope you will be happy in spite of 
 them." 
 
 " Will your wife like me, do you think, 
 Bernard ? " she asked timidly ; it seemed so 
 strange to think of Bernard with a wife, although 
 he had been married nearly two years. 
 
 Bernard smiled, and his eyes had a satisfied 
 look in them as he answered, "Yes, you may 
 make your mind quite easy on that score. If I 
 had not been certain that Julie would be glad to 
 have you, I should never have sent for you to
 
 TERRA FIRMA ONCE MORE 71 
 
 come out here. And there is someone besides 
 Julie to welcome you at Karrapolla when we 
 get there." 
 
 " Whom do you mean ? " she asked in surprise, 
 for his letters had never mentioned anyone 
 besides his wife. 
 
 " I promised not to tell you when I wrote last 
 because we wanted to surprise you, but the fact 
 is, Cicely, you have a small nephew who is 
 nearly six months old." 
 
 " And I did not know ! " she exclaimed, with 
 an odd sense of comfort at her heart. 
 
 "Julie didn't want you to be told until we 
 got home, but I should have certainly let it out 
 on the way, because it is so natural to talk of 
 him, and he is such a pickle too already." 
 
 " Bernard, Bernard, what are those things 
 over there ? " she cried excitedly, as they neared 
 the town quay, and some strange creatures that 
 had been sunning themselves on the low sandy 
 shore beyond slipped with a gliding motion 
 into the water and disappeared from view. 
 
 " Crocodiles ; but you will soon get used to 
 seeing them," he answered, thinking that she 
 was frightened. 
 
 When they landed he took her to a clean 
 little inn, kept by a fat Dutch woman, rejoicing
 
 72 CICELY FROME 
 
 in the impossible name of Frau Hopmerwhistle- 
 berg, and who treated Cicely with great defer- 
 ence, owing to her having just arrived from that 
 centre of civilisation England. 
 
 Then Bernard went off' on business connected 
 with their journey up-country, returning after 
 a short absence to ask, " Can you manage to sit 
 a horse, do you think, Cicely ? " 
 
 " I expect so ; I used to ride grandfather's 
 horses, and the cows too," she answered, with a 
 fleeting smile at the recollection of those care- 
 less, happy days, when she was a child and knew 
 nothing of sorrow saving the temporary partings 
 from her father. 
 
 " Ah, I thought of that, and I will make sure 
 that you have a quiet animal, a mule would be 
 best, and more sure-footed than a horse." 
 
 " But, Bernard," she called in some consterna- 
 tion, as he was turning quickly away again, " I 
 have no habit." 
 
 " Could you sew up a sheet, or a tablecloth, or 
 something to make a skirt with ? Frau Hopmer- 
 whistleberg will lend you needles and thread, I 
 suppose," he replied, coming to a full stop to 
 consider this knotty point. 
 
 " A sheet ! Why, Bernard, I should look like 
 a corpse ! " she cried in dismay.
 
 TERRA FIRM A ONCE MORE 73 
 
 " It wouldn't matter, there would be no one 
 to see you but me and two or three natives," he 
 said, with a laugh. 
 
 " But the people that we may meet on the 
 road " she began objectingly ; whereat he 
 laughed again. 
 
 "We shan't meet anyone, except perhaps a 
 few nearly naked natives, the road to Karrapolla 
 is not very thickly populated or extensively 
 used. Still if you don't feel equal to making 
 yourself a skirt we will go and see if we can buy 
 one. Get your hat and come along." 
 
 This arrangement was much more satisfactory 
 to Cicely, who was by no means an adept in the 
 use of needles and thread. And who, moreover, 
 found it rather slow work sitting in a dull room 
 waiting for Bernard, when she was longing with 
 her whole heart to be out and about in the queer 
 little town with its innumerable water-ways 
 and foreign appearance. 
 
 Bernard was very kind, pointing out the 
 various objects of interest, and carefully ex- 
 plaining what was novel and unknown to her. 
 There was little sleep for her that night, the 
 heat was excessive, and brought with it a dull 
 languor and disinclination for movement ; though 
 the mosquitoes which found their way through the
 
 74 CICELY FROME 
 
 bar-netting did not permit her to lie long 
 undisturbed. 
 
 She fell asleep just before the dawning, to 
 dream of her father, and that he had not died at 
 all, but was alive and calling to her across a 
 wide foaming river, " Cicely, Cicely, Cicely ! " 
 
 " Yes, father, yes, I will come," she cried, 
 struggling to loose the bonds in which her sleep 
 had bound her, and starting up in bed to find 
 that it was Bernard's voice that had mixed itself 
 with her dreams and made her think of her 
 father. 
 
 " Cicely, the horses will be at the door in half 
 an hour ; can you be ready ? " Bernard was 
 asking. 
 
 " Yes, I will be ready," she called back cheer- 
 fully, and sprang out of bed to make a hasty 
 toilet, which was to be followed by an equally 
 hasty breakfast, and then, heigho for the de- 
 lights of a plunge into the unknown !
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 UP-COUNTRY TRAVELS 
 
 ILES on miles of monotonous jungle ; 
 more miles of dusty plain, from 
 whence every blade of grass had 
 been shrivelled and scorched by the 
 combined efforts of pitiless wind and blazing sun ; 
 yet more miles of progress up solemn tree-shaded 
 water-courses, where the only variation to the 
 sameness was when a crocodile thrust its ugly 
 head out of the water to gaze with its little, 
 wicked eyes at the boat and its occupants, or a 
 pea-fowl's harsh, discordant cries woke the echoes, 
 as the travellers glided on past the mangrove 
 swamps, to linger near which was, at this season 
 of the year, to court death from miasma. 
 
 On the evening of their third day's journey, 
 Bernard announced that they were now within 
 twenty miles of Karrapolla, which they w r ould 
 doubtless reach before noon next day.
 
 76 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 " Oh, I am glad ! " exclaimed Cicely, with a 
 wide-reaching yawn of weariness. She had been 
 sitting in the boat all day, and was sick of the 
 sameness of doing nothing but fight with 
 mosquitoes. 
 
 " Are you so tired ? " Bernard asked in some 
 surprise, for this was the first time that she had 
 seemed to complain of the journey. 
 
 "I am tired of doing nothing, very," she 
 responded in an energetic tone ; adding, with a 
 rueful look at the holland riding-habit in which 
 she was clad, " And I am so dirty too." 
 
 "So am I," replied Bernard, who was peering 
 hard at the left bank of the river as though 
 looking for a land-mark. 
 
 " What are you looking at ? " asked Cicely, 
 struck by his manner. 
 
 " Something I wanted to show you ; ah, there 
 it is. Do you see that broad flat stone just there 
 by that jaggery palm ? " 
 
 " Yes ; what of it ? " and she gave it only a 
 languid look, being more concerned just then by 
 speculations anent her supper and their halting- 
 place for the night. 
 
 "That is one of the most interesting places 
 that you could find between Batticaloa and 
 Kandy, it is a Veddah-stone ; look at it well, for
 
 UP- CO UNTR Y TRA VELS 7 7 
 
 you won't find another in many a long day's 
 march." 
 
 " What is a Veddah-stone ? " she asked, turn- 
 ing to look at the smooth grey slab with more 
 curiosity now. 
 
 " A place of barter used by the Veddahs, who 
 are by far the strangest and most amazing 
 product of this remarkable country." 
 
 " What are they, animals or people ? " asked 
 Cicely, stirring with eager interest now, thankful 
 to have her attention distracted from the mono- 
 tony and the mosquitoes. 
 
 " Umph, in their case it is hard to say where 
 the animal ends and the human begins. Imagine, 
 if you can, a race of people with no vocabulary 
 beyond inarticulate grunts, whose only known 
 relaxation consists in the horrid and repulsive 
 devil-dances, who live in the forests like beasts, 
 and shrink from the sight of their fellow-mortals, 
 as timid deer might shrink from a hunter whose 
 sport is to slay him." 
 
 " Are they like that ? " she asked, looking at 
 the stone now with a keen interest. 
 
 " So I have been told, I have never seen one, 
 not a real Eock Veddah at least, though Village 
 Veddahs abound ; indeed I have half a dozen 
 working for me as coolies now. They are very
 
 78 CICELY FROME 
 
 ordinary mortals, who talk a little, steal a great 
 deal, and are some of them very awkward and 
 tiresome to deal with. Now a real Rock Veddah 
 is very different, being incorruptibly honest to 
 begin with, and most averse to holding any 
 communication with the world outside his ow r n 
 tribe. For instance, if the Veddah in this 
 neighbourhood has anything to sell, he brings it 
 in the dead of night and lays it on that flat 
 stone, at the same time leaving some slight in- 
 dication of the character of the goods he desires 
 in return ; for instance, he brings ivory, and if he 
 wants iron tools he leaves a fragment of rusty 
 iron, perhaps it is a broken nail or a small bit of 
 tin, and some hoes or spades are left on the 
 stone for him." 
 
 " But doesn't he get cheated sometimes ? " 
 Cicely asked, amazed at this one-sided way of 
 buying and selling. 
 
 "Yes, it grew to such a pitch a while ago, 
 soon after I came to Karrapolla, that the Govern- 
 ment had to interfere to protect the Veddahs, 
 and since then all the arrangements for barter 
 have been carried out by the ferryman of 
 Mataganga," Bernard said, turning away to give 
 an order in Singhalese to the natives who were 
 rowing.
 
 UP- CO UNTR Y TRA VELS 7 9 
 
 Cicely was athirst for more information on 
 the subject, but Bernard was still occupied 
 with the rowers, and she could not interrupt 
 him. 
 
 The boat in which they had travelled so many 
 miles was a big flat-bottomed boat of unmistak- 
 ably Dutch build, an unwieldy craft it was, but 
 well suited to its work, though it required the 
 strength of four dirty perspiring natives, rowing 
 turn and turn about, to get it up the weed- 
 entangled reaches of the stream. 
 
 Before Cicely had an opportunity for asking 
 any more questions, the boat was run aground 
 near a path leading to a collection of small houses, 
 and she was informed that this was Harraganga, 
 where they would spend the night. 
 
 " I thought you said it was the Mataganga 
 that we were coming to," she said, when they 
 were walking up from the water's edge to the 
 low-thatched houses which formed the village or 
 town. 
 
 " That is three miles away ; a wide, roaring 
 river even in the dry seasons, and during the 
 monsoon it is often an unfordable cataract. 
 But let us hurry, child, for you must want your 
 supper. I feel badly in need of mine at anyrate," 
 Bernard said, leading the way to a long, low
 
 8o CICEL Y FROME 
 
 building with a thatched roof, and a verandah 
 overhung with creepers and looking very pictur- 
 esque. 
 
 An old woman was waiting at the door to 
 welcome them, who for size and stoutness would 
 have paired well with Frau Hopmerwhistleberg, 
 and who possessed the same characteristic Dutch 
 face. Her name was shorter though, for Bernard 
 addressed her as Frau Grant, and presented Cicely 
 to her, saying that he had brought her a new 
 neighbour. 
 
 " Ah, the little sister from England that you 
 spoke of when you passed through to the 
 coast. But she is bigger than I had supposed," 
 said the old lady, in such very good English 
 that Cicely looked at her in surprise, her hostess 
 in Batticaloa having used a mongrel dialect of 
 Dutch, French, and English, with a little Singh- 
 alese thrown in. 
 
 Supper was served for them at a little table on 
 the verandah, and consisted of good white bread, 
 excellent coffee, figs cooked and uncooked, a kind 
 of pancake fried in oil, and a dish of river fish, 
 likewise fried, and done to a turn. But there 
 was no butter or milk on the table, and Cicely 
 looked her surprise at the omission. 
 
 " Are you wondering if Frau Grant has for-
 
 UP- CO UNTR Y TRA VELS 8 1 
 
 gotten the milk ? " Bernard asked, smiling at her 
 amazement. 
 
 " Don't you have milk here ? " she asked, 
 wondering what existence would seem like lack- 
 ing these two common necessaries of everyday 
 life. 
 
 "We do at Karrapolla, but it is a distinct 
 luxury ; you will get used to our ways in time, 
 little sister." 
 
 "You speak as though you had lived in 
 Ceylon all your life," she said ; noticing again, 
 as she had done so many times before, how 
 he identified himself with the country of his 
 adoption. 
 
 "That is because I feel to belong to it, and 
 it is home to me," he answered gravely, think- 
 ing of his troubled, sorrowful boyhood, and the 
 pain and anguish of heart his mother's second 
 marriage had brought to him. 
 
 " Won't you ever want to go back to England 
 again ; not when you get rich ? " she asked, 
 opening her eyes in surprise. 
 
 He shook his head decidedly. " I don't in 
 the least object to remaining here all my life ; 
 there are some few disadvantages of course, but 
 they are minor ones. Besides, Cicely, I am not 
 rich ; on the contrary, I am quite a poor man, 
 6
 
 82 CICELY FROME 
 
 and most of my capital is borrowed from Julie's 
 people, who live at Kandy." 
 
 "And you will have to keep me," she said, 
 with a distressful sigh. 
 
 " You need not be a burden, on a plantation 
 like ours there are numberless things a woman 
 can do. Labour is very difficult to obtain, and 
 even then not to be depended on, and if you 
 like to work I will gladly give you a share 
 in the business when you are twenty-one," he 
 replied cheerfully, determined that no shadows 
 should surround her home-coming if his hand 
 could by any means drive them away. 
 
 " Yes, I will work, only trust me for that ! " 
 she said brightly, grateful for his kindness, and 
 anxious to prove her words practically true. 
 The coffee was stimulating, and under its in- 
 fluence her courage revived. 
 
 " Anything astir this way, Frau ? " Bernard 
 inquired, when that portly individual came to 
 be complimented on her coffee. 
 
 Frau Grant lifted her hands high in the air, 
 as though to infer that more events of a stir- 
 ring nature had taken place since Bernard had 
 been away than could possibly be explained 
 by one person, or in an ordinary space of 
 time.
 
 UP- CO UNTR Y TRA VELS 83 
 
 But apparently he was used to her capacity 
 for exaggeration, and not specially moved by 
 it, for he merely asked, in a casual manner, " A 
 man eaten by a crocodile ? " 
 
 " Ah no, Mr. Alderson, it is no death, thanks 
 be to God ! Though indeed it might have but 
 for that brave and noble ferryman of Mata- 
 ganga ! " she cried, her broad face aglow with 
 her honest enthusiasm. 
 
 " Saved another life, has he ? What a hero 
 that Joe Smith is ! " Bernard said, his own 
 countenance kindling with something of the 
 glow that had radiated that of the Dutch- 
 woman when she spoke. 
 
 "There were four men," went on the Frau, 
 "and they would cross in their own boat, a 
 flimsy little ballam it was. Though Joe Smith 
 warned them of the whirlpool current, and said 
 that he would row them across without the toll 
 if they had nothing to give him. But they 
 would not listen, declaring that they knew the 
 river better than he did. He followed them, 
 however, mistrusting their skill in avoiding the 
 eddy, and well it was for them that he did, for 
 their boat was caught directly, and they were 
 tossed out into the death-hole, with never a 
 minute to say their prayers, and were whirled
 
 84 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 round and round and up and down like bits of 
 cork in a mill-race. But Joe was after them in 
 no time, and brought them out one by one, the 
 last man a deal nearer dead than alive, as you 
 may guess, from the bumping and banging he 
 had from the rocks of the death-hole." 
 
 " It was a plucky thing to do ! " exclaimed 
 Bernard, breathing hard for a minute or two, 
 and then dropping into a silence from which 
 ere long he was roused by the garrulous 
 Frau. 
 
 " I'm thinking the poor man won't do much 
 more of that work," she said, shaking her head 
 gravely, as she commenced clearing the supper- 
 table with the help of a deformed native 
 boy. 
 
 " Has he haemorrhage again ? " asked Bernard, 
 with a little start, as though his thoughts had 
 been very far away. 
 
 " He did have, but he is better now, although 
 weak, still every turn of bleeding at the lungs 
 must be serious, and he has it now after every 
 dive into the death-hole." 
 
 "What is it, this death-hole?" interrupted 
 Cicely, with a shudder of horror. 
 
 Bernard hastened to explain. "I told you 
 the Mataganga was a wide, roaring river, owing
 
 UP- CO UNTR Y TRA VELS 85 
 
 to the rocky nature of its bed, but at the place 
 where the road from here to Karrapolla crosses 
 it the stream falls over a ridge of rocks nearly 
 forty feet high, and at the bottom is a whirlpool 
 current, the centre of which is called the death- 
 hole from the number of fatal accidents that 
 have happened there. Government pays for a 
 responsible ferryman to be always on the spot 
 who knows the currents and can take passengers 
 over in safety. Every now and then, however, 
 there are found some people so foolhardy as to 
 attempt the passage on their own account, and 
 then the poor wretches are either banged to 
 pieces in the death -hole or Joe risks his life 
 by plunging in to save them, and people say 
 that so far he has never failed ; don't they, 
 Frau?" 
 
 She nodded her head vigorously, shaking her 
 whole body in the effort. " They say that he 
 cuts a fresh notch on the doorpost for every 
 life he saves, and that there are over two 
 hundred notches there already," she replied, 
 and being ashamed of the tears that were 
 running down her cheeks she turned hastily 
 away to scold her servant in very fluent 
 Singhalese. 
 
 " What a wonderful man ! " cried Cicely, with
 
 86 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 a wide yawn of weariness, and then, following 
 Bernard's suggestion, she went off to bed, and 
 there slept in dreamless restfulness until the 
 dawning, when he roused her to start on the 
 last stage of their journey to Karrapolla.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AT THE FERRY 
 
 JHE morning air was fresh and pleasant, 
 and Cicely was eagerly on the watch 
 for novelties, as seated on a staid 
 old mule she rode away from the 
 small village of Harraganga, on the road towards 
 Karrapolla. Her trunks, and the various bundles 
 and bales of merchandise that Bernard had pur- 
 chased in Batticaloa, had been sent forward to 
 the ferry in two heavy ox-carts. 
 
 Their way for the first mile lay through 
 cultivated fields, in some of which sowing was 
 in active operation, whilst in others the harvest 
 was already being reaped. Then the cultivation 
 ceased suddenly, and the road became a mere 
 track through a dense forest, with thick under- 
 growth. It was twilight here, although a few 
 minutes before they had been riding in brilliant 
 sunshine, with never a cloud to be seen in the 
 
 deep blue vault of the heavens. 
 
 87
 
 88 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 Suddenly the mule on which Cicely was 
 riding executed a wild caper, and then reared 
 violently. Almost flung to the ground by this 
 unexpected movement, she threw her arms 
 round the animal's neck with a swift instinct of 
 self-preservation, and clung with all her might, 
 determined not to be thrown if she could 
 avoid it. 
 
 In a moment Bernard was beside her, and 
 with his hand on her rein speaking soothing 
 words to the frightened quadruped, and patting 
 it in an encouraging fashion. 
 
 " What is the .matter ? " gasped Cicely, when 
 at length her steed was induced to return to its 
 wonted posture, with all four feet planted on 
 the earth instead of having first one pair and 
 then the other dangling wildly in mid-air. 
 
 "A big snake, that was all. See, there it 
 goes," and Bernard pointed to a spot where the 
 undergrowth quivered and bent under the strain 
 of some heavy body passing through it. 
 
 " Oh, I was frightened ! " she exclaimed, be- 
 ginning to tremble now that the excitement was 
 over and her animal quiet again. 
 
 " But you stuck on splendidly ; you'll make a 
 first-rate horsewoman with practice. That beast 
 of yours was asleep, or he would have seen the
 
 AT THE FERRY 89 
 
 snake before, and not have shied like that. Keep 
 his head up in future, and don't let him dream." 
 
 "I didn't know horses or mules were afraid 
 of snakes," said Cicely soberly, making up her 
 mind to keep a sharp look-out in future, so as 
 to be better prepared in the event of a similar 
 experience. 
 
 " No animal will step on a reptile if it can be 
 avoided, it is instinct with them," Bernard replied ; 
 and then they urged the mules forward again, 
 though now the path wound steeply uphill, and 
 the pace was of necessity slower. 
 
 After a long, long climb, they reached the top, 
 at the same time the jungle disappeared, and lo ! 
 they were in the midst of a coffee plantation, 
 with trim, well-cultivated fields on either side of 
 the road, and in the distance a comfortable 
 looking farmhouse with numerous outbuildings. 
 
 " That was my first home in Ceylon, Cicely," 
 said Bernard, pointing with his whip across to the 
 snug homestead among the trees. 
 
 " There ? " said she, looking at it with inter- 
 ested eyes, and wondering if Karrapolla was as 
 pleasantly situated. 
 
 " Yes, I took service under a Scotchman named 
 Donald Yates, and for a year I worked like an 
 ordinary labourer, for I was determined to begin
 
 90 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 at the beginning and learn as I went along. At 
 the end of the year Donald died, and I went 
 to Karrapolla as overseer ; but the owner was 
 given to drinking and gambling, and soon got 
 himself into difficulties, resulting eventually in 
 the place coming into the market, upon which I 
 borrowed the cash and secured it." 
 
 As Bernard was speaking they rode round an 
 angle in the road, and came upon a picture that 
 made Cicely cry out in astonishment. A wide 
 valley lay before them, down the centre of which 
 flowed a broad river, while high up on the right 
 hand, where the river valley curved sharply, 
 could be seen the rainbow above the cataract. 
 
 " Isn't it splendid ! " she exclaimed with en- 
 thusiasm, contrasting it with the tame monotony 
 of the scenery through which they had passed 
 since leaving the coast. 
 
 "Yes, there is nothing to beat hills and rivers 
 in the matter of the picturesque. But the river 
 is a mere brook now to what it will be after the 
 monsoon. Do you see that little white hut down 
 there among the palm trees, not far from the 
 water's edge ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered, peering forward, " I see it ; 
 a pretty little cot it looks from here." 
 
 "That is where Joe Smith lives, and yonder
 
 AT THE FERRY 91 
 
 is the ferry-boat," went on Bernard, pointing 
 with his whip to a cove formed by two huge 
 boulders covered with vegetation, in which lay a 
 wide, flat-bottomed boat. 
 
 But Cicely's mule was belying its character 
 for steadiness that morning, and despite her efforts 
 to hold it in started off down the hill at an un- 
 comfortable lolloping gallop, which reduced her 
 again to the necessity of clinging in an undig- 
 nified manner to the creature's neck to prevent 
 her being thrown off from the violence of the 
 motion. 
 
 In her heart she wondered whether the animal 
 would come to a standstill when it reached the 
 bottom, or whether it would attempt to ford the 
 river on its own account, and if so what were 
 her chances of being able to escape the horrors of 
 the death-hole, of which already she had heard 
 so much. 
 
 The mule, however, slowed up about half-way 
 down the slope, and subsided to a gentle amble 
 that was very agreeable after the roughness of 
 its previous progression. 
 
 Bernard was flying along behind, endeavouring 
 to catch up with her, but his animal proving 
 itself much inferior in pace, he did not arrive 
 alongside until Cicely's mule had got over its
 
 92 CICELY FROME 
 
 temporary excitement and was going quietly 
 again. 
 
 "When we get to the ferry I'll change the 
 saddles, Cicely, and then if that animal gets 
 frolicsome I'll teach it a lesson," Bernard said in 
 a tone that boded ill for the restive mule, who 
 heard, and apparently understood, by the way it 
 commenced dancing on all its legs at once, turning 
 round and round, as though seeking a way of 
 escape from some hidden discomfort, darting off 
 finally at a mad gallop again, and with a jerk 
 sending its rider flying among the bushes and 
 tangled grasses of the roadside. 
 
 She was rather glad than otherwise to find 
 herself safely on terra firma again, for her steed 
 had been too exciting to be pleasant, and she was 
 relieved to be quit of it. 
 
 Bernard's face was very rueful, however, when 
 he picked her up, and carefully inquired as to 
 whether she was sound in wind and limb. 
 
 " I'm all right, thanks, only it took my breath 
 away," she answered, determined not to show the 
 white feather. 
 
 " I should think so. But it is puzzling to know 
 what is the matter with that animal. Look at 
 it now." 
 
 And Cicely did look at the poor creature, which
 
 AT THE FERRY 93 
 
 had plunged into the water and was tramping to 
 and fro as though seeking to ease some violent 
 irritation in the splashing of the water. 
 
 " Ah, I believe I know now what is the matter, 
 it has been attacked by leeches. Will you mount 
 my animal, little sister, or would you rather walk 
 as far as the ferry ? " 
 
 " Oh, I will walk, please," she answered, with 
 a shiver, not caring to try her equestrian skill 
 again on this side the foaming Mataganga ; almost 
 determining, too, that she would ask Bernard to 
 allow her to make the rest of the journey in the 
 ox-carts with the baggage rather than risk a 
 second downfall. 
 
 Almost, but not quite, and it was her pride 
 that prevented her ; for she could not endure that 
 Bernard should deem her deficient in courage. 
 
 o 
 
 So she marched stolidly on down the long, dusty 
 slope to the ferry, making up her mind to the 
 inevitable. 
 
 Bernard was walking too, casting sharp glances 
 all about him as he went, then suddenly he called 
 out in an excited tone, " Run, Cicely, run as fast 
 as you can go to the ferry, and when you get 
 there strip off your shoes and stockings ; this 
 place is simply alive with leeches 1 " 
 
 She needed no second bidding, his tone was too
 
 94 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 urgent for that, though she had not the slightest 
 idea what he meant, and thought that leeches 
 might be Singhalese for some poisonous descrip- 
 tion of snake, the mere mention of which put 
 wings to her feet to speed her along. 
 
 Arrived under the trees that shaded the 
 ferryman's house, she remembered Bernard's 
 injunction anent her shoes and stockings, setting 
 to work forthwith to divest herself of them, when 
 to her horror and amazement she discovered that 
 they were swarming with minute creatures which 
 were fastening themselves to her feet and ankles, 
 and even ascending her legs. 
 
 True to feminine characteristics, she who had 
 stuck to her restive steed until it absolutely 
 flung her, and who had with grim determination 
 made up her mind to mount again when once 
 the ferry was passed, shrieked loud and long at 
 this new disaster, and commenced a wild Indian 
 dance, twirling round and round on her bare toes, 
 crying to Bernard to come to the rescue, and 
 flinging her arms about despairingly. A small 
 boy sunning himself near the boat came to look, 
 evidently under the impression that she was 
 performing for his benefit, and appeared to be 
 much diverted by the spectacle. 
 
 " Don't be scared, Cicely ! " shouted Bernard,
 
 AT THE FERRY 95 
 
 who was approaching as fast as he could, leading 
 his mule, which was showing as much restive 
 discomfort as her's had done. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! Help, help, help ! " yelled the 
 victim, dancing more wildly than before, with 
 thin streaks of blood showing on her bare white 
 ankles. 
 
 The small boy was in an ecstasy of delight, 
 and rolled over in the dust laughing with all his 
 might. 
 
 But Bernard was on the spot by this time, and 
 seizing his half-distracted sister in a firm grasp, 
 said to her sternly, " Don't be such a baby, 
 Cicely, they are only land leeches and are not 
 poisonous, though I grant you they are 
 unpleasant." 
 
 " I thought their bites were fatal," sobbed 
 Cicely, thoroughly unnerved by the experience, 
 and quite unable to control herself. 
 
 " You would have stood a good chance of 
 dying in that case, for you have been well 
 bitten," laughed Bernard, seating her on the 
 trunk of a felled tree lying near, and pulling off 
 the obnoxious pests that had fastened on to her 
 so numerously. 
 
 Both were so engrossed with this occupation 
 that they did not notice a tall stooping figure
 
 96 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 that came out of the hut and remained stationary 
 a short distance from them, and regarding them 
 attentively. 
 
 Cicely was the first to become conscious of his 
 approach, and she arose in some confusion, 
 painfully embarrassed by reason of her naked 
 feet. 
 
 " Good-morning," said the man in queer 
 guttural tones, speaking too with a strange 
 accent, his face working the while as though he 
 laboured under the influence of some strong 
 emotion. 
 
 " Ah, Joe," exclaimed Bernard, looking up from 
 peering into the toe of Cicely's right boot, " are 
 you better now ? " 
 
 The man pulled at a grey forelock hanging 
 down from under his hat, answering gruffly, 
 " I'm getting all right again, though it is slow 
 work this time. Is aught the matter with the 
 young lady, sir?" looking at Cicely, who was 
 scrambling into her shoes as fast as she could. 
 
 " She had picked up a few leeches, that was 
 all. Can you take us over now, Joe ? " said 
 Bernard, who was in haste to get home. 
 
 " Ay, sir, at once," he replied, turning round 
 and shouting " Kuda, Kuda ! " whereupon the 
 small boy who had laughed at Cicely's alarm
 
 AT THE FERRY 97 
 
 reappeared with a somewhat sheepish look on his 
 dirty black face, and proceeded to haul and drag 
 at the boat, in order to get it off the sandy ridge 
 on which it rested. 
 
 The mules were caught and fastened to the 
 boat with long ropes, and the two passengers 
 having taken their seats, the man and boy 
 scrambled in after and rowed out into the 
 stream. 
 
 Conversation here was impossible, the roar of 
 the cataract sounded like thunder in their ears, 
 while the rush of the water past the immense 
 rocks protruding here and there in the bed of 
 the river was like the swirling hiss of a great 
 waterspout. 
 
 Cicely was genuinely afraid, for she had never 
 seen nature in such a magnificent mood before, 
 and the awe and grandeur of the display almost 
 overwhelmed her. 
 
 Bernard understood something of this, and 
 held out his hand, gripping hers with a re- 
 assuring pressure that brought back the colour, 
 which had momentarily fled from her cheeks. 
 But the worst was not over yet, for the rotary 
 current of the death-hole had still to be avoided ; 
 and she held her breath in alarm to see one 
 of the mules, the animal that had thrown her, 
 7
 
 98 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 drawn in by the suction of the whirlpool, and 
 dragged down, down, down, plunging and 
 struggling all the time. The rope that fastened 
 it to the boat, however, was strong and good, 
 and the rowers bent to their work with a will, 
 so that in a moment the poor beast was drawn 
 from the jaws of death out to the quiet water 
 beyond the current. A few minutes after the 
 keel of the boat grated on the opposite bank, 
 and the Mataganga was crossed. 
 
 " Oh, what an awful place ! " cried Cicely, with 
 a shiver of fear as she looked back on the 
 turbulent torrent they had passed over. Then 
 she turned away in some confusion, through 
 becoming suddenly aware that the ferryman was 
 regarding her with a peculiar fixed gaze. 
 
 " It is fairly quiet now, but it is awful at flood 
 time. I'll bring you over to see it after the next 
 monsoon, Cicely," Bernard answered ; then gave 
 the ferryman some directions about the luggage 
 which was following in the ox-carts, the mule- 
 riders having passed the slower travelling oxen 
 nearly a mile farther back. 
 
 " And now, little sister, we shall have to ride 
 hard to reach Karrapolla before the noon heat is 
 upon us," Bernard said, when they were fairly in 
 the saddle again.
 
 AT THE FERRY 99 
 
 " Are there any more leeches or snakes ? " 
 asked Cicely, who was becoming surfeited with 
 unpleasant surprises, and desired no more such 
 enlightenments during the remainder of the 
 journey. 
 
 "There are always leeches among the hills, 
 except in times of very severe drought, but we 
 may not happen on another patch for all that ; 
 and as for snakes, they will get out of our way 
 fast enough if they can." 
 
 Thus reassured, Cicely bent her energies to 
 the task of sitting on her saddle as gracefully as 
 she could, whilst the mule swung forward at a 
 quick ambling trot that was very delightful after 
 she had got over her dread of another tumble. 
 The road, too, was fairly good, winding gently 
 uphill and down, with no abrupt declivities or 
 ascents to try her skill in horsemanship. 
 
 They passed many pleasant farm homesteads, 
 each nestling in their groves of sheltering trees, 
 and withdrawn from the road ; then followed 
 patches of jungle, and fields uncultivated, the 
 rises in the road became steeper and more 
 frequent, and Cicely was growing very tired 
 indeed, when Bernard called out to her as they 
 breasted a hill, " Do you see that house across 
 the valley, little sister ? "
 
 ioo CICEL Y FROME 
 
 "Yes," she answered languidly, for the sun 
 was beating hotly on her back, and she was stiff 
 and sore with riding. 
 
 " Well, that is your home, that is Karrapolla," 
 he answered in a glad tone. 
 
 " That ? Oh, Bernard, how lovely ! " she cried, 
 a mist of sudden tears dimming her eyes as she 
 looked again at the low, long house crowning 
 the opposite height. 
 
 " Yes, and in ten minutes we shall be there, 
 for these animals are wise enough to know that 
 rest lies yonder," he answered. 
 
 Cicely had much ado to keep her seat during 
 this last mile, for the mule was in such haste to 
 reach the end of the journey that it went at a 
 wild gallop, bumping her up and down in a 
 most unceremonious fashion. 
 
 There was no one to be seen when they 
 entered the gate of the compound and came 
 to a standstill before a side -door at one end 
 of the house, though a sound of pretty 
 vigorous scolding reached their ears as they 
 alighted. 
 
 Cicely's face clouded anxiously as she listened, 
 for the sound was not prepossessing, and was a 
 bad omen for future harmony in the home. 
 But Bernard laughed, saying, " That is the way
 
 AT THE FERRY 101 
 
 Julie manages the servants, and she actually 
 thinks they are impressed by it." 
 
 Cicely did not reply, but followed her brother 
 rather timidly into the wide, cool hall, that was 
 floored with black marble, streaked here and 
 there with a thin veining of yellow. 
 
 " Julie, Julie ! where are you ? " shouted the 
 man's voice, happy and confident, sure of its 
 welcome ; while the girl cowered in the back- 
 ground speculating on the nature of the one 
 that would be vouchsafed to her. She had not 
 long to wait, the scolding ceased suddenly, there 
 was an eager exclamation, followed by a quick 
 patter of approaching footsteps, and a pretty 
 little woman, with a fluffy, frizzy head of jet 
 black hair, burst into the hall, crying out 
 
 " Oh, Bernard, my dearest, and I did not see 
 you coming ! " She only stayed to bestow a 
 very brief salute on him, however, and wheeling 
 round upon Cicely hugged her in a most demon- 
 stratively affectionate fashion. 
 
 " I shall like you, I am sure I shall ! " she cried 
 excitedly, holding Cicely at arm's length to scan 
 her face, and then folding her in a rapturous 
 embrace again. 
 
 " I told you that I had no doubt about the 
 welcome you would receive ? " said Bernard to
 
 102 CICELY FROME 
 
 his sister, with a fond look at his lively little 
 wife. " But, Julie, how is the boy ? " 
 
 " Ah, the sturdy young rascal, he is fine and 
 well, with two more teeth since you went away, 
 my husband ; and a dreadfully strong will of 
 his own that will bring the grey hairs of his 
 mother with sorrow to the grave, if it is not 
 bent and curbed in time," retorted the bright 
 little woman, leading Cicely into a cool, pleasant 
 sitting-room, where a Singhalese girl of a 
 peculiarly unpleasant aspect was rocking the 
 cradle of a sleeping babe. 
 
 "It is home, home, home," Cicely's heart 
 was singing as she knelt on the floor by the 
 the cradle and, with a cautious finger, just 
 touched the hand of her small nephew.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 JULIE'S WELCOME 
 
 UT the babe is stealing all your devo- 
 tion, look at me, sister Cicely, and 
 say, do you think we shall get on 
 together ? " As she spoke Mrs. 
 Alderson put her hands on the girl's shoulders, 
 and twisted her round so as to obtain a view of 
 her face. 
 
 Somehow, she did not quite know why, Cicely 
 found her eyes swimming with tears ; it was the 
 sight of the babe that had unnerved her perhaps, 
 or the experiences of the morning that inclined 
 her to sentimentality. She was ashamed that 
 they should be seen, but was unable to brush 
 them away, because Julie had imprisoned her 
 hands. 
 
 " Crying, too ; why, what is the matter, dear ? " 
 and the little woman's tone was full of sympathy 
 and regret.
 
 1 04 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 " I am only silly," replied the girl, impatient 
 with herself for having given way. 
 
 Bernard had gone from the room, likewise the 
 native nurse, and they were alone save for the 
 sleeping babe. 
 
 " I did not think that you would be so kind," 
 faltered Cicely, surprised into the confession by 
 the kindness of her sister-in-law's manner. 
 
 Mrs. Alderson's face clouded for a moment, 
 then it brightened again, and she said, with a 
 merry laugh, " Ah, I know what made you afraid, 
 you heard me scolding the servants when you 
 arrived. But everyone here scolds their serv- 
 ants ; life would not be endurable unless. Yet 
 I am not disagreeable or hard to li ve with ; ask 
 Bernard." 
 
 " I know what Bernard thinks," Cicely 
 answered, with a smile, thinking that the new 
 relationship promised well at all events, and 
 deciding that her brother's wife was a very 
 charming person. 
 
 " Tut, tut, you must not listen to all he says ; 
 he is given to flattery," cried Julie, with a blush 
 and a laugh ; then suddenly recollecting the 
 many miles Cicely had travelled since the dawn, 
 she awoke to her duties as hostess, and carried 
 her young sister off to a wide, many- windowed
 
 JULIE'S WELCOME 105 
 
 corner room, where a white bed stood invit- 
 ingly in a shadowy nook, and an open door 
 close by revealed a small bathroom beyond. 
 " You will be glad to rest a while ? " she asked, 
 assisting in getting the dirty, dusty habit 
 unfastened. 
 
 " I am very tired," admitted Cicely ; adding 
 dubiously, " but " then stopped awkwardly, as 
 though she was still a little uncertain concerning 
 her position at Karrapolla. 
 
 " But what ? " asked Julie, deftly slipping the 
 habit from Cicely's weary form. " Don't have 
 any buts about it, dear, but just have a splash in 
 yonder, to clear away the dust, and then I will 
 bring you coffee and some food, after which you 
 will sleep, ah, so sweetly ! I will go get the 
 coffee now ; " and she tripped away, leaving Cicely 
 to explore her new chamber and the tiny bath- 
 room beyond. In a brief space she was back 
 again, however, laden now with a tray bearing 
 a dainty luncheon set forth in tempting array ; 
 and coffee, the like of which Cicely had never 
 tasted before, a pellucid, amber-coloured beverage 
 with a marvellous aroma. 
 
 " You like my coffee ? Ah, I thought you 
 would, most people do ; and Bernard, the flattering 
 one, says it is nectar, a drink for the gods. But
 
 io6 CICELY FROME 
 
 I am French, you know, and my nation under- 
 stand the art of tickling the palate much more 
 than the English, who are such great eaters as a 
 rule that their palates need no tickling at all," 
 laughed Julie, as she watched Cicely eating her 
 luncheon. 
 
 " When shall I get up ? " the new-comer asked, 
 suppressing a yawn with some difficulty, for she 
 was very weary. 
 
 " Oh, when you like ; you are at home, 
 you know, and can do as you please. Sleep 
 until you are rested and the noon heat has 
 passed, then you will feel strong and vigorous 
 again." 
 
 Cicely was not long in obeying the injunction 
 to slumber, gliding off into a deep sleep which 
 lasted a long time ; then she began to dream of 
 a wide, roaring river, ah, it was the Mataganga 
 again, she told herself ; then her fancy changed, 
 and she decided it was the typical river of death, 
 for her father's voice was calling to her above 
 the noise of the rushing, roaring water, " Cicely, 
 Cicely ! " but the tones were agonised, and full 
 of a yearning pathos. Why, oh, why was he so 
 sad, since the Bible stated so plainly that there 
 was no grief in heaven ? 
 
 But she awoke with the mystery of his sad-
 
 JULIE'S WELCOME 107 
 
 ness unsolved, and the tears running down her 
 face like rain. 
 
 It was only a dream, however, and the rest 
 had done her good ; so, banishing sad thoughts, 
 she arose and made some sort of a toilet, then 
 went in search of the household. 
 
 Julie was at first invisible, and Bernard also, 
 but the native nurse was out on the verandah 
 with the babe, and thither Cicely betook herself. 
 It was near to sunset, and the western horizon 
 was piled with banks of ominous clouds, which 
 the declining sun touched with a lurid light, 
 turning them into fiery masses of red and 
 orange. It was very grand, though a trifle 
 weird, and she turned from the spectacle with a 
 little shiver to take the babe from its dusky 
 attendant. 
 
 He was not shy, but capered and jumped with 
 delight at the change, making frantic grabs 
 at her hair, and poking his fat fists into her 
 eyes. 
 
 Cicely was charmed. An infant was a novelty 
 to her, and there was a pleasing dignity about 
 the position of aunt that was soothing to her 
 self-importance. 
 
 " Oh, he is a dear ! But, nurse, what do you 
 call him, what is his name ? "
 
 xoS CICELY FROME 
 
 The woman, who stood stolidly looking on, 
 shook her head, murmuring something in Sing- 
 halese that sounded like " carra-carra-whir-whir- 
 wullahoo." 
 
 " My precious, if they have afflicted you with 
 such a name you are indeed to be pitied, and 
 everyone else too ; for I'm sure such a mouthful 
 will choke us if we are in a hurry," laughed 
 Cicely, addressing the infant, who chuckled and 
 crowed as though he quite understood all about 
 it, and was disposed to take her view of the 
 case. 
 
 They were still making merry in this fashion 
 when Julie bustled out from the window of the 
 sitting-room, exclaiming, " Ah, I thought to 
 rouse you from your slumber, but when I sought 
 you, it was only to find you fled. Are you 
 refreshed ? " 
 
 Cicely stood up, holding the child in her arms, 
 his little fat hands making bell-ropes of her hair, 
 and tugging at it with joyful satisfaction, gur- 
 gling incoherences the while in an untranslatable 
 tongue. 
 
 " Yes, thank you ; but will you tell me what 
 is his name ? I could not understand the nurse 
 when she spoke," said Cicely. 
 
 " No one understands Wimala, I can't make
 
 JULIE'S WELCOME 109 
 
 her out myself sometimes, though I can interpret 
 for most of the people that Bernard employs," 
 laughed Julie ; then, the laughter dying out of 
 her voice and her face becoming a little grave, 
 she said, " We call him Dick, but his full name 
 is Richard Frome Alderson." 
 
 Cicely started with the sudden surprise of the 
 answer, then the colour died out of her face, 
 leaving her white and trembling, and her dry 
 lips could scarcely frame the monosyllable, 
 "Why?" 
 
 " We thought," said Julie in a low tone, that 
 was a trifle hesitating also, " that we should like 
 to do something in the way of a welcome that 
 you could not possibly misread or fail to in- 
 terpret in its right sense ; therefore, when 
 Bernard had told me the sad little story of how 
 the brave sailor-father went down with his ship, 
 and never returned from the last sad voyage, I 
 said, let us call the babe after him, and he will 
 be to her a tie to link the old life with the new. 
 But you must not cry, sister Cicely," she went 
 on in a gayer tone, " or if you must, give little 
 Dick to his ayah, or he will howl in sympathy, 
 and his cries are terrific, tremendous, quite 
 absolutely unbearable." 
 
 She was right. At the sight of Cicely's
 
 1 1 o CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 emotion the corners of the infant's mouth 
 drew down, his eyes gathered an expression of 
 aggrieved and wondering distress, after which he 
 opened his mouth widely and made vocal his 
 sympathy. 
 
 The stolid Wimala held out her arms to him, 
 and he cuddled into her dusky embrace as a 
 sure refuge from all woes, while his mother and 
 Cicely walked away arm-in-arm to find Bernard 
 and their dinner. 
 
 "Cicely, if your lips quiver so, and your 
 cheeks remain like chalk, I shall misdoubt the 
 wisdom of my welcome after all," Julie said, 
 finding the girl still laboured under the influence 
 of her overpowering emotion. 
 
 " I was so surprised, and and I thought 
 Bernard was too prejudiced against father to 
 have named the child after him," Cicely replied 
 unsteadily. 
 
 " Why prejudiced ? " asked Julie, eyeing her 
 sharply, as though to discover how much she 
 knew or imagined. 
 
 " Because of the wreck, you know; some people 
 think that it was father's fault." 
 
 " How did you learn that ? I thought every 
 care had been taken to guard his memory where 
 you were concerned ? " asked Bernard, who, from
 
 JULIE'S WELCOME in 
 
 the window of the dining-room had overheard 
 their conversation as they approached. 
 
 Cicely turned to him timidly, she was always 
 a little afraid of Bernard, and now his tone was 
 not reassuring. 
 
 " There was another passenger on board the 
 boat I came out in, who was one of the five 
 survivors from the wreck of the Eastern Star, 
 I overheard him talking about it to another 
 gentleman, and then I asked him to tell me 
 privately all about the foundering of the 
 vessel." 
 
 " And did he ? " inquired Bernard, his face 
 growing dark with anger, and his fist clenching 
 in an ominous fashion. 
 
 " He gave me the details as he actually saw 
 them, but he would tell me nothing when I 
 asked him if father was guilty in his estimation," 
 Cicely replied, her breast heaving in a piteous 
 attempt to keep down her sobs. 
 
 Bernard sighed impatiently, being one of those 
 people who prefer to keep the family skeleton 
 locked safely away out of sight and memory 
 when possible. Seeing, however, that the door 
 had to be unfastened on this occasion, it was 
 manifestly wiser to throw it wide open and have 
 done with it.
 
 1 1 2 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 " Since you know so much there is little to be 
 gained in withholding the rest," he said gloomily. 
 " Most people blamed him, Cicely most people 
 who read the newspapers, I mean ; but seafaring 
 folk, who know something of the difficulties of 
 navigating a ship in a fog, were kinder in their 
 judgments. I interviewed one captain, whom I 
 knew would be a competent judge of the prob- 
 abilities of the case, and he told me the chances 
 were in favour of your father's innocence from 
 blame, winding up by saying, 'And a sailor is 
 a superstitious man too, you know, Mr. Alderson, 
 and if I took a harsh view of the matter, and 
 declared that poor Frome could have brought 
 his ship into port safely if he'd only taken his 
 soundings oftener, why, supposing that I too 
 sent my ship on the rocks, I couldn't but 
 expect they'd say the same of me.' I comforted 
 myself with that, and an incident occurring 
 soon after deepened my belief in this captain's 
 wisdom, for on his very next voyage he ran 
 his ship on the rocks off the coast of New- 
 foundland, the crew and passengers only being 
 saved by a miracle. But no one blamed him 
 for the accident, because he was alive to ex- 
 plain it." 
 
 But Cicely was scarcely satisfied yet, and had
 
 JULIE'S WELCOME 113 
 
 to ask another question. " Did mother believe 
 him guilty ? " 
 
 "Mother," said Bernard, with a perceptible 
 softening of his tone, "mother always believed 
 in him ; it was the doubts of other people that 
 sent her to her grave so soon."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 WIMALA'S REVENGE 
 
 YEAR had slipped away since the 
 coming of Cicely to Karrapolla, and 
 she had developed in such an all- 
 round fashion as to be scarcely recog- 
 nisable. She wore long frocks now, and had 
 her hair turned up in regulation fashion. Her 
 list of accomplishments had grown more numer- 
 ous also, and though she still could not equal 
 Julie in the making of coffee, she knew much 
 more than that lady on the subject of its 
 cultivation. Hunting, fishing, and rowing had 
 also been added to her repertoire, with consider- 
 able practice in sitting a mule. 
 
 The life she lived was chiefly an outdoor 
 one, and, despite the fact of her European 
 birth and upbringing, she stood the climate 
 remarkably well, and thus far had not experi- 
 enced even a touch of jungle-fever, although
 
 WIMALA '6 1 RE VENGE 1 1 5 
 
 Bernard had twice been down with severe 
 attacks of it. 
 
 Karrapolla was in the heart of a forest dis- 
 trict, with deep marshy valleys where pestilence 
 lurked, although the hilltops were breezy and 
 healthful enough, and the various little rivers 
 feeding the Mataganga kept a greenness in the 
 countryside when all else was scorched and 
 parched with blazing sun and fierce wind. 
 
 The year that had done so much for Cicely 
 had transformed little Dick from an infant in 
 arms to a sturdy toddler, who was almost always 
 in mischief when he was not asleep. 
 
 Of course he was a spoiled child, his father 
 and mother could not bring themselves to deny 
 him anything he cried for, his aunt obeyed his 
 lordly behests with almost slavish devotion, yet 
 in spite of all this love lavished upon him, Dick 
 cared for no one so much as his ayah, the un- 
 prepossessing girl, Wimala. 
 
 Cicely was openly jealous of the black woman's 
 superior place in her small nephew's affections, 
 and redoubled her endeavour to divert his 
 allegiance to herself, though all in vain ; Master 
 Dick having a strong will of his own, and 
 bestowing his favours where he chose. 
 
 The drought had been of long continuance,
 
 1 16 C1CEL Y FRO ME 
 
 day after day a hot wind bent and blasted every 
 green thing, until the earth grew grey and 
 brown, and the banks of the rivers were crowded 
 with a daily increasing throng of game, little and 
 big, driven there by the companion needs of 
 hunger and thirst. 
 
 But the little rivers were dwindling rapidly, 
 some of them being entirely dried up. Even 
 the Mataganga had considerably decreased in 
 volume, the roar of the cataract being sensibly 
 diminished. It was easier to ford in con- 
 sequence, and the ferryman was having a long 
 rest, any person with a knowledge of rowing, 
 joined to a pair of strong arms, might be safely 
 trusted to row a boat over without being caught 
 in the terrible current of the death-hole. 
 
 One day towards the end of April, Bernard, 
 who had been busy in the plantations from dawn 
 until the heat of noontide had driven everything 
 save the lizards to shelter, came to the darkened 
 sitting-room where Julie and Cicely were sitting 
 at their needlework with visible annoyance on 
 his face. 
 
 " Julie, we shall have to get rid of Dick's 
 ayah," he said crossly. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Mrs. Alderson, 
 looking up with some anxiety in her face, for
 
 WIMALA 'S RE VENGE \ 1 7 
 
 lately there had been constant complaints of 
 Wimala, and she was getting rather tired of 
 them. 
 
 " She takes him about among the people more 
 than I like. I found them this morning right 
 up at Kutch Ganga, chumming up with those 
 Wullabar coolies ; one of them, a horrid low- 
 looking wretch, had the boy in his arms teaching 
 him to sip arrack. And they've no end of skin 
 diseases and other horrors amongst them. It 
 really isn't right that the little fellow should run 
 risks of that kind." 
 
 Julie flamed up into impetuous anger. " I gave 
 her strict orders only yesterday that she was on 
 no account to go near Kutch Ganga, for Woosh 
 told me he believed there was smallpox among 
 that Wullabar lot. And when I ask her, she 
 will say that she has not been near them, and 
 would not think of such a thing." 
 
 " Have her in, and let her say it now, then," 
 replied Bernard. " I may be able to assist her 
 memory if she is more than usually forgetful." 
 
 Cicely rose from her chair and slipped 
 quietly from the room ; she could not bear to 
 enact the part of looker-on when Julie scolded 
 the servants. It hurt her, somehow, to see the 
 little woman who was usually so quiet and
 
 1 1 8 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 dignified, and so extremely kind in her manner, 
 give reins to fierce passion, and stamp and 
 storm and scream, while the dusky culprits 
 gazed at her with stolid indifference, apparently 
 caring not at all for the tirade. 
 
 But Julie had assured her many times that 
 there was absolutely no other way of managing 
 the natives, that everyone did exactly the same 
 thing, and that to attempt to coerce or govern 
 them by kindness would be understood by them 
 as an indication of fear, and for ever destroy that 
 sense of superiority now enjoyed by whites. 
 
 Going out through the verandah to her room, 
 Cicely saw Wimala swinging little Dick in a 
 hammock, slung under the thick shade of some 
 aged fig trees growing near the house. The 
 child was singing and shouting the praises of his 
 dearly beloved " Wim," whilst the woman her- 
 self was looking at him with an expression of 
 such adoration as completely transfigured her 
 repellent visage, and made her almost good- 
 looking for the nonce. 
 
 " I wonder why she subjects him to such 
 risks?" pondered Cicely, watching the pair 
 though unseen by them ; " does she do it to 
 spite Julie, I wonder ? " 
 
 It was the first time such an idea had occurred
 
 WIMALAIS RE VENGE 1 1 9 
 
 to her, and it clung with most unwelcome 
 tenacity ; and she was on the point of going back 
 to the sitting-room where Julie was, to speak to 
 her about it, when she saw Woosh, the house- 
 boy, run round the other end of the verandah 
 and imperatively summon Wimala to appear 
 before her tribunal of two. 
 
 The ugliness came back to the ayah's face in 
 an intensified form, as she gathered her nursling 
 in her arms and moved with a slow step towards 
 the house. 
 
 With a quick movement Cicely went to meet 
 them, holding out her arms to the child. " Dick, 
 will you come with auntie ? " she pleaded 
 coaxingly ; " auntie will show Dick a horse and 
 soldiers pretty, big red soldiers." 
 
 For a moment he wavered under the influence 
 of so tremendous a temptation, but a low almost 
 imperceptible whistling sound from the ayah 
 recalled his allegiance with a jerk. 
 
 " Dick loves Wim, he go wiv Wim," he re- 
 sponded fretfully, for his little soul was torn in 
 two by the magnitude of the bribe, and the 
 condition was not conducive to good temper. 
 
 Cicely's arms dropped powerless to her side, 
 while a gleam of triumph flashed into Wimala's 
 eyes as she strode away carrying the boy on her
 
 1 20 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 shoulder. Cicely heard his laugh ring out cheerily 
 as he was borne into the house, sure evidence 
 that he was happy again, with the fascinating 
 vision of horse and soldiers, big red soldiers, 
 effectually banished from his mind. 
 
 The scene between the outraged mother and 
 the ayah was even more tempestuous than usual. 
 And when, Julie having screamed herself hoarse, 
 Wimala stood calmly regarding her infuriated 
 mistress with something nearly like a smile on 
 her face, Bernard lost his temper also, and declared 
 that he would endure it no longer. 
 
 " Send her away, Julie, and let's have no more 
 of it ; surely you and Cicely can make up to the 
 boy for her loss, so that he will get over it in a 
 week, and not cry himself sick." 
 
 " Yes, she shall go this minute ! " cried Julie, 
 with another burst of reproachful recriminations, 
 and then she hurried to take Dick from the 
 woman's arms. 
 
 But he clung with all his might to the ayah's 
 black neck, kicking, screaming, fighting like a 
 little mad creature to maintain his hold. 
 
 Julie was wounded in every fibre of her 
 maternal love, to think that her idolised child 
 should prefer an ugly black woman to herself. 
 And it was Bernard who finally clutched master
 
 WIMALA 'S RE VENGE 1 2 1 
 
 Dick, holding him so firmly that he could struggle 
 no more. 
 
 " Now go," he said sternly, " you have wrought 
 quite sufficient mischief during your stay here." 
 
 But the ayah either could not, or would not, 
 understand this for dismissal, until she had been 
 told several times over, in as many different 
 dialects, and the boy Woosh had been summoned 
 to assist her understanding by a forcible eject- 
 ment. 
 
 Then all her stoic calm gave way, and throw- 
 ing herself at Julie's feet she besought forgiveness, 
 with loud lamentations for her past wrong-doing, 
 tearing her hair, and grovelling on the ground 
 in a manner that was, according to Bernard, 
 absolutely sickening. 
 
 She was got away at last, and sent under the 
 custody of Woosh to a cousin of Julie's, a planter 
 who lived twenty miles higher up the Mataganga 
 valley. It being deemed wiser to send her where 
 she could have instant employment, than to leave 
 her in the neighbourhood with the opportunity 
 of seeing little Dick, and so maintaining her 
 hold on his affections. 
 
 Julie was quite exhausted after the fray, and 
 thankful to let the care of Dick devolve for 
 a while upon Cicely, who mothered the forlorn
 
 1 22 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 little boy in a truly maternal fashion, and slaved 
 in his behalf with a devotion beautiful to behold. 
 
 But Dick's dense little nature failed to ap- 
 preciate it, and he pined for his ayah in a manner 
 pitiful to witness. 
 
 One day, when he had been more than usually 
 difficult to manage, Cicely bethought herself of 
 that low half-audible whistle she had once heard 
 Wimala use with so much effect, and essayed to 
 try it on her own account, pursing up her lips and 
 venturing on a soft low whistle, wondering, as 
 she did so, what possible fascination it could have 
 for the petulant baby who pined so sorely for his 
 nurse. 
 
 It had some charm evidently, for Dick gathered 
 himself into an attitude of intent listening, his 
 head held a little on one side, his eyes fixed on 
 Cicely's face, as though he waited for something 
 more. 
 
 Over and over she repeated the sound, until 
 the expression of his face changed to impatience, 
 and he looked round anxiously, as though to find 
 what he wanted, then he cried out, " Wim, Wim, 
 Dick wants Wim, good Wim. Auntie, take Dick 
 to find Wim," and he stretched his arms forth 
 imploringly to Cicely. 
 
 She was in despair, believing, and rightly too,
 
 WIMALA 'S RE VENGE \ 23 
 
 that she had beeu unwise in awakening thoughts 
 of Wimala in his memory that might otherwise 
 have slumbered into oblivion. 
 
 Gathering him up in her arms, she took him 
 out of doors in order to distract his thoughts, 
 sauntering with him down to the lower tank, 
 where, by dint of damming a stream, some long- 
 ago-proprietor of Karrapolla had formed a res- 
 ervoir of water that the longest and severest 
 drought had never succeeded in emptying. 
 
 Like all other water in the neighbourhood, it 
 abounded in crocodiles, and, standing on the 
 terrace at the upper end, Cicely pointed the huge 
 unwieldy creatures out to Dick, who clapped his 
 hands and shouted with glee when they slid 
 down the banks and disappeared under the water, 
 or fought with each other in their favourite 
 element over some choice morsel of food. 
 
 But the air was heavy and sultry, the hot wind, 
 which to-day came in great gusts, was laden with 
 a fine, impalpable dust, that burned and scorched 
 where it touched in a most uncomfortable manner, 
 and the sky was dark and lowering ; under the 
 influence of the heat and the dust Dick's interest 
 in the crocodiles soon vanished, and he began to 
 fret again for his dear lost Wim, whose memory 
 was yet so fragrant in his faithful little heart.
 
 1 24 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 With a sigh of weariness that she could not 
 repress, Cicely strolled back to the house again 
 with her charge, meeting, as she passed under 
 the grove of fig trees, with Woosh, who had only 
 just returned from seeing the ayah safely to the 
 plantation of Julie's cousin, where he had been 
 delayed two or three days longer than was 
 expected. 
 
 " What a long time you were gone, Woosh ; 
 was anything the matter ? " Cicely asked, wonder- 
 ing if the ayah had been troublesome on the road. 
 
 "Massa Le'Strange had so many company, 
 him glad to get Woosh to help drive them away," 
 returned the boy, with a wide grin of delight at 
 the fun he had enjoyed. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Cicely in 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Massa Le'Strange's place is chock full of 
 kaddia ants. We take brooms and sweep, 
 sweep, sweep ; we shovel 'em up in heaps, and 
 make big fires to smoke them off, but they don't 
 care, and they crawl into beds and cupboards 
 and everywhere, and bite, bite, bite ; ugh, ugh, 
 ugh ! " and Woosh flourished his hands dram- 
 atically, as if to infer that here at least speech 
 was entirely inadequate to the occasion. 
 
 " How dreadful ! " cried Cicely, in sincere pity
 
 WIM ALA'S XEVENGE 125 
 
 for the unfortunate household suffering from 
 such a visitation ; she having lived in Ceylon 
 long enough to know something of the discom- 
 fort arising from ant pests. 
 
 " Ah, shocking ! " said Woosh, with another 
 flourish. "They came in the night, and filled 
 the house. Such a screaming and shouting and 
 flinging of shoes and boots at the foe, but him 
 kaddia not care about such little things ; it kill 
 two perhaps, and a thousand come to eat him's 
 dead brothers. It very fine fun fighting kaddias, 
 and Woosh glad to be there. But, missie" 
 and the boy dropped his voice, and came a step 
 nearer. 
 
 Cicely was quick to see that his communica- 
 tion had to do with Wimala, and having had 
 experience so lately concerning the unwisdom of 
 speaking of the ayah in presence of the child, 
 said sharply, " Hush ! Wait here a moment 
 until I have taken Master Dick to his mother, 
 then I will hear what you have to say." 
 
 Hurrying in, she deposited him in his mother's 
 arms, and as swiftly retired again to where 
 Woosh awaited her coming. 
 
 "Wimala, she bad, wicked one," he began, 
 with a wag of his head, " and she say she will 
 have revenge on them that sent her away."
 
 126 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 " But how can she be revenged when she is 
 so far away ? " asked Cicely, with a thrill of 
 apprehension in her heart. 
 
 " She no stay," he muttered. 
 
 " She will have no choice. No one will 
 employ her in this neighbourhood, where she 
 is known, and so she would starve." 
 
 Woosh wagged his head in dissent from this 
 theory, and continued, " Wimala not Singhalese, 
 though she say so. Wimala real Rock Veddah. 
 No Rock Veddah ever stay in strange place." 
 
 "Why not?" demanded Cicely. 
 
 "Woosh not know, but they never do. 
 Woosh wonder how she stayed at Karrapolla so 
 long in a white man's house, but she loved the 
 little white one, and perhaps he kept her." 
 
 "I thought the Rock Veddahs could not 
 talk except by grunts, and that they lived 
 in solitude," objected Cicely, uncertain as to 
 whether Woosh might not be drawing largely 
 on his imagination for his facts. 
 
 " Rock Veddahs talk like Singhalese if they 
 begin young. Wimala not talk much, she 
 whistle more. Massa Dick like Wimala to 
 whistle," he said knowingly. 
 
 Cicely received this communication in silence, 
 though she pondered it carefully ; then she
 
 WIM ALA'S REVENGE 127 
 
 asked, " What do you think she will try to do, 
 Woosh ? " 
 
 " Woosh not know. Rock Veddahs good 
 people mostly, and not hurt anyone ; but 
 Wimala, she civilised, and she lost her Veddah 
 heart and learned wicked ways. She look on 
 Massa Dick with the evil eye, and she make 
 him come after her." 
 
 " Very well, Woosh, I will tell your master ; 
 but don't try to frighten your mistress, for she 
 is very unwell with the worry." 
 
 Woosh promised compliance, and went off to 
 the kitchen to refresh himself after his journey, 
 and fight his kaddia- battles over again for the 
 edification of his fellow-servants. 
 
 But Cicely sought out Bernard, and to him 
 retailed the information she had just received. 
 To her surprise he only laughed, however, and 
 told her that had Woosh been an educated 
 European he would probably have developed 
 into a successful novelist, as he had such a 
 convincing way of stringing his falsehoods 
 together and painting them over with a gloss 
 of fact. 
 
 She was hardly convinced, however, and find- 
 ing Julie much better the next day ventured to 
 see if the story met more credence from her.
 
 iz8 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 It was of no use, however ; and Julie, wise 
 in her lifelong experience of native whims and 
 ways, dismissed it as idle nonsense, and was 
 much more impressed with the attack of the 
 kaddia ants on the house of Mr. Le Strange.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 
 
 ICELY, you are getting quite demor- 
 alised with this ayah business. I 
 will take care of Dick myself to- 
 morrow, and you and Bernard can 
 go and shoot peacocks," Julie said one evening 
 two weeks later, seeing that the other's face was 
 worn and tired, and that her shoulders had a 
 weary stoop, very unlike her usually free, erect 
 bearing. 
 
 " I should love it. I haven't touched a gun 
 for a fortnight, and was desperately afraid the 
 rains would be on us before I had another 
 chance," Cicely replied eagerly. 
 
 "You shall have it to-morrow then, though 
 you will have a long ride before you reach your 
 shooting ground, for Bernard has to go over the 
 ferry, and will look for his game on the opposite 
 bank of the Mataganga, I expect. We always 
 9
 
 1 30 CICEL Y IRQ ME 
 
 think the fowl from over there are better, 
 plumper, and more succulent than anything we 
 find round here ; besides being more plentiful 
 and easy to get," Julie went on, quite as eager 
 as Cicely that the holiday should be an enjoy- 
 able one. 
 
 " I don't care about the game being plentiful 
 when I go out shooting," retorted the other, 
 with a little shrug that she had copied from her 
 sister-in-law. " In fact I haven't quite got over 
 my distaste for killing, even yet. What I like 
 is tramping along and watching for a chance to 
 fire, the expectation and uncertainty of it all, 
 the having to creep, and scarcely daring to 
 breathe even, that is the charm of sport for 
 me," and her face flushed with enthusiasm as 
 she spoke. 
 
 " Oh, I love to accomplish something when 
 I begin, that is why I always hated fishing ; to 
 sit for hours dangling a rod in the air and never 
 a nibble all the time is intolerable to me. In 
 fact it takes a very indolent person to be a 
 successful angler. A busy-body like myself is 
 sure to jerk the line at the wrong minute, and 
 so frighten the fish away altogether." 
 
 Cicely laughed, the prospect of to-morrow was 
 sufficient to make laughter come easily, though
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 131 
 
 she had felt dull and stupid for days with the 
 oppression of the weather, which daily grew 
 more overcast and thunderous. 
 
 Bernard was not in until late that evening, 
 and Julie was just beginning to fidget and 
 wonder what detained him when he entered 
 the room. 
 
 "Three days more, or possibly four, and I 
 prophesy rain," he said, as he flung himself 
 wearily into a chair. 
 
 " You are sure it won't come to-morrow ? " 
 asked Cicely anxiously, who, tired as she was 
 of hot wind, heat, and dust, was not desirous 
 that the change should come until after she had 
 taken her day's sport among the pea-fowl on the 
 opposite bank of the Mataganga. 
 
 " I hope not, I must see Joe Smith to-morrow, 
 and it won't play raining when it does begin, I 
 expect," he answered. 
 
 " I'm going with you, and we're to have a 
 day's shooting," laughed Cicely, executing a 
 festive skip across the room. 
 
 They were in the saddle just as the rose flush 
 of dawn began to stain the eastern horizon, and 
 their horses being fresh they reached the ferry 
 while the day was yet young, and before the 
 scanty coolness had all been burned away.
 
 1 3 2 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 The horses they rode were quite a recent 
 acquisition, hitherto Bernard had used mules 
 only, but finding business a little more 
 prosperous he had invested in three good saddle 
 horses. 
 
 Cicely carried her gun and game-bag slung in 
 sportsmanlike fashion, and sat her horse in an 
 easy manner that betokened efficient training. 
 
 A big horn hung from a chain slung to a tree, 
 by which travellers desiring to cross might 
 summon the ferryman. But there was no need 
 to use it this morning, as Kuda had seen their 
 approach and himself summoned Joe Smith to 
 his duty. 
 
 Cicely was surprised by the change in him in 
 the few weeks since she had seen him last. His 
 tall form was bowed as from severe and recent 
 illness, and the scar across his face showed darkly 
 purple against the pallor of his skin. 
 
 " Have you been ill ? " she asked pityingly, as 
 they pushed out into the stream, 
 
 " I've had a pretty bad turn, another such will 
 about finish me, I guess," he said, with a weary 
 indifference that shocked her. 
 
 " Haven't you had a doctor ? I'm sure you 
 ought to see one," Bernard said. 
 
 But Joe shook his head. " A doctor would
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 133 
 
 stop me working, send me to bed, or something 
 of the sort, and I should die before my work 
 was done. As it is I shall about hold out till 
 it is finished, for there ain't much more, and 
 then the sooner the better," returned the man 
 gloomily. 
 
 Bernard was silent, not from want of sympathy, 
 but because he knew that in Joe's place he 
 should have felt the same. 
 
 There was only a circular ring of foam to mark 
 the current of the death-hole, whilst the black 
 rocks stood high out of the water, looking more 
 grim and dangerous than ever. 
 
 Cicely shivered a little at sight of them, the 
 stories connected with the death-hole were so 
 weird and terrible, and she had heard so many 
 of them, that it was little marvel she should 
 fear the place, even when the crossing was as 
 easy as it was proving this morning. 
 
 "You'll be coming back to-day, sir?" asked 
 the man of Bernard, when they landed on the 
 other side. 
 
 " Yes, before sunset. And, Joe, my sister 
 could rest awhile in your hut before we cross 
 this evening, couldn't she ? I've business at 
 Blackson's before I go home, but there's no need 
 to drag her there when she is tired."
 
 1 34 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 " I shall be most happy to give her shelter," 
 said the man in his slow, guttural tones. " It's a 
 poor place, but it's clean." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know," Bernard answered, a trifle 
 impatiently Cicely thought, and then with a few 
 more words they mounted their horses and rode 
 away. They did not follow the road leading to 
 Harraganga, but skirted the rice - fields lying 
 along the river bank, plunging into little thickets 
 of sedges that rose almost as high as the heads 
 of the horses. 
 
 Game was there in plenty, a magnificent stag 
 started up from a thicket of ironwood trees, 
 where it had been making an unsatisfactory meal 
 from some of the more tender foliage which had 
 managed to escape the withering influences of 
 the drought. 
 
 But their purpose was not big game on this 
 expedition, and they let the noble creature go. 
 Jungle-fowl were to be had in plenty, and the 
 more succulent and toothsome pea-fowl. 
 
 Cicely shot four, and then desisted, feeling that 
 she had done sufficient execution to sustain her 
 reputation as a marksman, and need not violate 
 her conscience further. Bernard, who had no 
 scruples, but was imbued with that lust of killing 
 which is peculiar to masculine natures, filled his
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 135 
 
 game-bag to overflowing, and when it would 
 hold no more declared himself well tired. 
 
 The wiry young retriever, which accompanied 
 the expedition, also showed signs of pretty 
 considerable fatigue, and lay down panting in 
 the shade of a tree when they stopped to rest 
 for an hour or two during the fiercest heat of 
 noon. 
 
 Whilst Bernard kindled a fire, and prepared a 
 bed of coals, Cicely rapidly denuded one of the 
 birds of its feathers, and wrapping it in the 
 broad leaves of an aromatic shrub growing near, 
 spitted it cleverly on a forked stick and roasted 
 it over the coals. 
 
 The dog, sniffing the savoury smell of the 
 cooking, came closer to the fire, wagging his 
 tail, and evincing other signs of satisfactory 
 anticipation. 
 
 " Ah, Ponto, you sly old thing, you can revive 
 in prospect of dinner," laughed Cicely, as she 
 dished her fowl on a broad palm leaf, and called 
 to Bernard that she was ready. 
 
 A tin billy was already filled with water and 
 beginning to boil at the edge of the fire, and 
 throwing in a big pinch of tea, she squeezed a 
 little lemon juice into it, and lo, a refreshing 
 beverage was prepared, which taken scalding hot
 
 136 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 sensibly diminished the fatigues of the morning. 
 When the meal was over, while Ponto demolished 
 the bones and what else remained from the feast, 
 Cicely took an uneasy rest, stretched at length 
 on the trunk of a fallen tree, whilst Bernard sat 
 on another and smoked two big cigars. 
 
 In the jungle the heat was terrific, the horses 
 stamped and fretted with the fierce attacks of 
 mosquitoes, while the perspiration ran down their 
 glossy sides, and fell in drops to the ground. 
 Cicely fanned herself lazily with a big leaf, and 
 fought the mosquitoes like the horses, whilst even 
 Ponto snapped and yelped when they settled on 
 the tender tip of his nose. 
 
 Bernard alone remained unaffected by them, 
 as even mosquitoes do not relish cigar smoke, 
 and regarding him, by reason of it, as an undesir- 
 able morsel, they let him alone. 
 
 Presently a low roll of thunder met their ears, 
 and Bernard surveyed the sky, what was visible 
 of it at least, with some anxiety. 
 
 "Do you know, Cicely, I think we ought to 
 be moving ; it looks uncommonly as though the 
 weather was on the break, and I'd rather be the 
 other side of Mataganga before it comes," he 
 said, getting up and throwing the end of his 
 cigar on to the spent ashes of their fire.
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 137 
 
 " It can't be hotter riding than it is sitting 
 here, or lying, as the case may be, and doing 
 nothing," she answered, getting up from her log, 
 with a big yawn, " How far are we from the 
 ferry, do you expect ? " 
 
 " Not more than three or four miles when we 
 strike a trail. You shall ride on with Ponto to 
 Joe's hut whilst I go round to Blackson's, that 
 will save time, if you are not afraid." 
 
 "What can there be to be afraid of?" she 
 laughed, as she put the query. " I may see a few 
 monkeys, but they won't eat me, I expect 
 they'll be more interested in Ponto than me ; and 
 it is too near to civilisation for me to happen on 
 a Veddah village, I suppose ? " 
 
 "Yes, we are about eight miles from the 
 Veddah country here, though they would not 
 hurt you, poor wretches. But I have a prejudice 
 against young girls riding alone, and I shan't 
 leave you until we reach cultivated fields," he 
 answered. 
 
 They rode in silence after this, the heat being 
 too great for the exertion of sustained conversa- 
 tion. Their progress was slow, and they were 
 nearly an hour in reaching the open ground. 
 This time they rode round the sedges instead 
 of through them, because of the snakes and
 
 1 38 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 other uncomfortable creatures that might have 
 sought shelter there from the fierce heat of 
 noontide. 
 
 When they came out into the rice - fields 
 bordering the river, Bernard turned his horse's 
 head towards the rising ground intervening 
 betweeen him and Blackson's, whilst Cicely, with 
 Ponto for a companion, rode forward to the 
 ferry. 
 
 Joe Smith was sitting at the door of his hut 
 when she rode up, and he came to help her 
 dismount, summoning his satellite, Kuda, to 
 tend the horse and give it a rub down. 
 
 " You'll come inside and rest, miss ? " he 
 asked hesitatingly. " I think you'll find it 
 cooler, though it is hot in most places 
 to-day." 
 
 Cicely followed him over the threshold, mar- 
 velling a little at the poverty of the interior. 
 A narrow wooden framework covered with 
 coarse canvas, and standing in a corner, was 
 manifestly a bed, and beside it the only other 
 articles of furniture contained in the place were 
 a stool, a small rough table, and a box with a 
 padlock. 
 
 The stool Joe brought forward to the doorway 
 for her to sit upon, placing it where the best
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 139 
 
 view of the cascade could be obtained, and him- 
 self taking up a position on the box. 
 
 " Aren't you very lonely here sometimes ? " she 
 asked, wondering a little what she could find to 
 talk about to this strange man until Bernard's 
 return. 
 
 " Not more than I should be in a crowd," he 
 answered, in a tone that sounded more guttural 
 than ever, and which for the first time struck 
 her as being assumed for a purpose, it being too 
 strained and deep to be either natural or the 
 result of accident. He was watching her closely 
 too, and she felt uncomfortable. 
 
 " Have you lived here long ? " she ventured, 
 wishing that his eyes were not so terribly 
 pathetic in their wistful yearning. But she 
 sprang to her feet in great amazement, when, 
 instead of answering her trivial question, he said 
 in a low tone 
 
 " Cicely, I once knew your father." 
 
 " My father ! is it possible ? When, when, 
 where ? " she cried, clasping her hands in her 
 agitation. 
 
 " I knew him when he was captain of the 
 Eastern Star" he answered in a firmer tone, 
 as though he had somewhat regained control of 
 himself.
 
 140 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 " Oh, tell me, why did you not say this 
 before ? " said Cicely, flushing and paling in her 
 surprise and emotion. 
 
 But he held up his hand warningly, and his 
 voice was stern as he said, " Hush ! If you take 
 it in this fashion I shall have to regret having 
 told you, young lady, the information was for 
 your ears alone, and I should not have ventured 
 to bestow it but for the fact that your father 
 left a message for me to give to you." 
 
 " For me ? " her breath came in hard pants, 
 it was like opening a grave this harking back 
 to the tragedy of the past, and it moved her 
 profoundly. 
 
 The man, too, appeared to have difficulty in 
 repressing his emotion, and his face worked 
 strangely as he said, " It was just as the vessel 
 was going down that he said to me, ' I should 
 like my little Cicely to know that her father 
 was not wholly to blame." 1 
 
 " Oh, my father, my dear, dear father, to have 
 to die like that ! " she wailed, covering her face 
 with her hands and weeping bitterly. 
 
 " There are many things harder to bear than 
 death life for instance," said the man ; but she 
 turned on him fiercely. 
 
 " If you were my father's friend, why did you
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 141 
 
 not see that I had his message sooner ? Not 
 that I needed anything to make me understand 
 that he was not to blame, but for the consolation 
 of knowing that he thought of me right up to 
 the last. Could you not know what it would 
 mean to me ? " 
 
 There was no answering irritation in his tone 
 when he spoke, only a terrible sadness, " Alas ! 
 I had no means of telling you, for the curse of 
 Cain is on me, and I have been in hiding many 
 years now, not for the sake of my own wretched 
 neck, believe me, but that some whom I love 
 may not have to share my shame." 
 
 " Poor man, poor man ! " Cicely murmured, 
 touched by the hopeless wretchedness of his face. 
 
 At this moment, Kuda, who had been lying 
 under the shelter of the boat, ran past the door, 
 shouting, " Massa's coming, massa's coming ! " 
 
 " You will keep my secret from him your 
 brother for a little while ? " the man asked 
 nervously, his face twitching painfully. 
 
 " Yes, yes, do not doubt it," she said earnestly, 
 striving hard to repress her emotion, and to 
 appear calm and composed by the time Bernard 
 reached the hut. 
 
 " Cicely, Cicely," said the man in a low, 
 hoarse tone that quivered and thrilled with
 
 142 CICEL F FROME 
 
 anguish, " will you let me kiss your hand for 
 for your father's sake ? " 
 
 Bernard was drawing closer now, and Cicely 
 could hear the thud of his horse's hoofs on the 
 dusty ground outside. She was impulsive by 
 nature, and here was given her no time to reflect. 
 Memories of the father so dearly loved, so deeply 
 lamented, swept in a surging flood to her brain, 
 and flinging her arms round his neck, she kissed 
 him on his poor scarred cheek, murmuring softly, 
 "For father's sake!" 
 
 A low "Thank God !" broke from Joe Smith, 
 and then he turned with her to the open door to 
 greet Bernard, who had just drawn rein before 
 the step. 
 
 " I nearly had my journey for nothing after 
 all," Bernard said to his sister as they walked 
 down to the boat. 
 
 " Did you ? " she asked indifferently, her mind 
 in a whirl from the strange discovery of the last 
 half-hour. 
 
 "Nearly, but not quite," he answered cheer- 
 fully, and then as they were crossing the stream 
 he turned to the ferryman, saying, " I have been 
 talking to Noel Blackson about you, Joe, and he 
 has promised to come down and lend you a 
 hand directly the rains come ; you'll be sure to
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 143 
 
 need help then, and, next to yourself, I should 
 say that he would be about as good at clearing 
 the current as anyone about here." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," the man replied gruffly, 
 bringing out the last word with a very evident 
 effort ; then he went on, " Yes, he has more 
 knowledge, and more common sense too, than 
 most of the men hereabouts, and it needs both 
 to work the ferry safely when the river is in 
 flood." 
 
 " How did you learn, Joe ? " Bernard asked, as 
 they neared the other bank. 
 
 " By experience," answered the other curtly. 
 
 "You have saved a great number of lives, 
 have you not ? " Cicely asked, breaking silence for 
 the first time since she had entered the boat. 
 
 " Yes, miss, over three hundred," he replied, 
 his voice more gentle than when he spoke to 
 Bernard. 
 
 At this moment the boat grated against the 
 bank, and the travellers landed and once more 
 climbed into their saddles. 
 
 Cicely turned as she rode away to have one 
 more look at the bowed, sad figure of the ferry- 
 man, but a crash of thunder sounded close above 
 them, the frightened horses started off at a gallop, 
 and her last sight of him was a weird form
 
 144 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 standing in a boat, outlined against the flowing 
 water of the river, lit up with the fierce glare of 
 blue lightning. 
 
 " We must race for it, Cicely," cried Bernard, 
 as he urged his horse to a greater speed. 
 
 She shouted back in reply, but her voice was 
 inaudible above the rolling and crashing of the 
 thunder, whilst a continual flicker of steely blue 
 lightning warned them that the spirit of the 
 storm was unchained and abroad, and that they 
 must hasten if shelter was to be reached in time. 
 
 The horses knew this as well as the riders, 
 galloping wildly uphill and down ; while the 
 wind roared an accompaniment to the bellowing 
 thunder, great branches of trees snapped off and 
 fell to the ground, and the air was full of weird 
 sighings and premonitions of disaster. 
 
 As yet there was no rain. But clouds of dust 
 raced them as they rode, or, with the incon- 
 sistency of dust-clouds generally, turned again to 
 meet them, enveloping horses and riders in a 
 whirling, suffocating mass, that blinded and 
 choked them, that stung their faces and tortured 
 them beyond description. 
 
 But they did not hesitate or falter, though 
 Cicely had long since let the reins fall loose on 
 her horse's neck, and concentrated her efforts on
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 145 
 
 clinging to the saddle, to the creature's mane, to 
 anything that could give a vestige of support, 
 and yet not check the animal in its career. 
 
 At last they saw the lights of Karrapolla 
 gleaming brightly on the opposite hill, a colder 
 wave passed into the sultry air, and the first 
 clash of rain struck their faces. 
 
 How welcome it was ! The panting horses 
 were revived by it, and gathered their energies 
 for a final spurt, and Cicely sat up in her saddle 
 to look eagerly at the home lights shining on the 
 opposite hill as they careered down into the 
 dark valley. 
 
 It struck her as singular, even then, that they 
 should be so numerous. Supposing that Julie 
 had been frightened at the delay in their arrival, 
 and the swift on-coming of a night of storm, one 
 bright light, or at most two, would surely have 
 sufficed. But here were at least six or seven, not 
 stationary, and burning with a steady glow, but 
 flickering and moving as though from torches 
 carried hither and thither. 
 
 They were climbing the last hill now, and the 
 tired horses had slackened their speed to a 
 shuffling walk. 
 
 " Bernard," she cried, turning round in her 
 saddle to let her voice reach him better, his 
 
 10
 
 1 46 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 horse having dropped a little behind, " Bernard, 
 do you see all those lights ? Is anything wrong at 
 home do you suppose ? " 
 
 " They are frightened for us," he shouted back, 
 but there was a hollow ring about his tone, as 
 though he too feared lest disaster had come to 
 his home that day. 
 
 Another dash of rain struck their faces now, 
 almost taking their breath away with the sting 
 of its cold. And when they recovered from it, 
 and could open their eyes, and begin to gasp 
 again, both were startled to hear Julie's voice 
 raised to a piercing shriek, and coming through 
 the darkness to meet them. 
 
 " Dick is gone, little Dick ! He has been lost 
 for hours, and we cannot find him ! " 
 
 The lightning showed her running down the 
 road to meet them, and Bernard, flinging himself 
 from the saddle, caught her in his arms as she 
 rushed upon them, her hair streaming wildly over 
 her shoulders, her garments torn and disordered. 
 
 " Julie, Julie, do you mean it ? " he asked, with 
 the wild hope that she was only delirious and 
 labouring under the influence of some horrid 
 delusion. 
 
 " Mean it, oh, hear him ! " she cried, her voice 
 sharp and shrill with anguish.
 
 "A DAY'S SPORT, AND ITS ENDING" 147 
 
 " Tell me, dear," he said soothingly, realising 
 how nearly maddened with grief she was. 
 
 " I never left him, Bernard, never once," she 
 wailed, the shrillness of her tones melting and 
 breaking in a moan of pain. " He was playing 
 on the verandah, with me sitting at needlework 
 close by, and I must have dozed, for when I 
 looked again he was gone." 
 
 " Wimala, it must have been Wimala 1 " cried 
 Cicely, clasping her hands in despair. 
 
 But a fiercer burst of rain was upon them, a 
 big teak tree fell across the road with a crash 
 not six yards away, and the fury of the storm 
 came down in the fulness of its power.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE REVENGE CARRIED OUT 
 
 HERE had been a week of ceaseless 
 rain. Not the gentle, fertilising 
 droppings of an English shower, but 
 torrents of water poured from inky 
 clouds, with a monotone of thunder all the while, 
 varied only by fitful streaks of blue lightning. 
 
 Not merely were the rivers in flood, but the 
 jungle and all low-lying lands were converted 
 into vast lakes, roads were impassable, and com- 
 munication between village and village broken 
 up and impossible saving by boat and canoe. 
 
 And all this time the search for little Dick had 
 been carried on in vain. Night and day, despite 
 the pitiless pouring of the rain, they had searched. 
 Hired coolies who worked on the plantation, 
 natives from the surrounding villages, house- 
 servants, kind neighbours who sympathised in 
 the terrible grief that had fallen on Bernard
 
 THE REVENGE CARRIED OUT 149 
 
 Alderson's home, all joined forces in search for 
 the missing baby. 
 
 Cicely's belief that Wimala had aught to do 
 with Dick's loss was shared by only one or two. 
 Most people thought that he had wandered away 
 and got lost, and they searched not for a living 
 child, but for his little corpse, or, failing that, 
 some fragment of clothing that should give a 
 clue to his fate. 
 
 But after the first hours of anguish Julie was 
 spared the pain of suspense which everyone 
 around her was enduring, and lay like one para- 
 lysed, bereft of sense and motion, absolutely un- 
 conscious. And her condition added to the 
 burdens borne by the others, for the doctor from 
 Harraganga, who by almost incredible exertions 
 had succeeded in reaching Karrapolla, declared 
 that if Dick's fate was still an uncertainty when his 
 mother awoke to consciousness, either her reason 
 would go, and she would become lunatic, or else 
 the shock would kill her outright. 
 
 Therefore whilst Bernard led the search, or 
 took brief spells of rest, that were more the 
 exhaustion of outraged nature than ordinary, 
 health-giving slumber, Cicely remained within 
 the house on duty in the sick-room, which in all 
 those seven days and nights she had scarcely left.
 
 150 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 On the eighth day the sun shone out in fervid 
 brilliancy once more, and the dense masses of 
 cloud disappeared as though by magic. The worst 
 was over now, and though in all probability the 
 weather would be uncertain for days and weeks 
 to come, the showers would not be of long 
 duration. 
 
 Towards noon Cicely was summoned from 
 Julie's room by one of the native women, who 
 assisted in the work of the house. "Massa 
 wants you, they have found " but she did not 
 complete her sentence, running away instead, 
 sobbing loudly. 
 
 How Cicely's limbs shook, and her heart 
 throbbed, as she walked with unsteady steps 
 to the back verandah, where Bernard stood in the 
 centre of a group of sympathising friends. 
 
 She was expecting to see a little battered body, 
 almost unrecognisable most likely ; and was 
 gathering her courage to bear the sight without 
 swooning, when Bernard stepped out from the 
 group and came towards her holding something 
 in his hand. 
 
 " Cicely," he cried hoarsely, " do you know if 
 Dick was wearing shoes like these the day when 
 he was lost ? " 
 
 She took the soiled scrap of leather from his
 
 THE REVENGE CARRIED OUT 151 
 
 hand, looking at it intently. " Yes," she answered 
 slowly, " he had them on in the morning, at least, 
 when we started, for Julie had dressed him early 
 in order that he might see us off." 
 
 A little groan broke from the group who were 
 listening, and Bernard fell back as though some- 
 one had struck him a blow. 
 
 " Where did you find it ? " she asked in an 
 awed tone. 
 
 " By the tank, lodged fast in a crevice," said 
 one of the men, setting his teeth together, whilst 
 a fierce light shone from his eyes. 
 
 " Do you think he wandered so far and fell 
 into the water?" she asked, her face blanching 
 with horror ; she had so often taken him to the 
 tank, that if he had met his fate there she felt 
 the responsibility of it would in a manner rest 
 on her. 
 
 Bernard had turned away, unable to bear the 
 question or hear the answer one of the men was 
 giving to Cicely. 
 
 " It's more likely that a crocodile jumped up 
 and seized him as he stood, he was too clever to 
 go and tumble in like some, baby though he was ; 
 but he would stand no chance of escape if one of 
 them creatures sprang at him," replied the man 
 who had spoken before.
 
 1 5 2 CICEL Y PRO ME 
 
 Cicely shivered. Like Bernard, she would 
 rather have found a tiny corpse from which the 
 breath of life had been beaten by the fury of the 
 tempest than to think of the boy crushed to 
 death in the terrible jaws of a crocodile. 
 
 She was turning away to return to her post, 
 not crying, because she had already wept until 
 the fount of tears was dry, when the doctor, who 
 made one of the group, though she had not 
 previously noticed him, drew her aside, saying 
 gravely 
 
 " It is very sad, I know, Miss Frome, but you 
 must not break down now." 
 
 " No," she answered steadily, " I shall not break 
 down." 
 
 He looked at her admiringly, thinking how 
 different she was in force of character and self- 
 control from the ill-balanced, hysterical daughters 
 of the south, whose endurance has become ener- 
 vated and spoiled by the indolent influences of 
 their daily lives. 
 
 He did not let his approval of her pluck and 
 courage go further, however, than looks, but 
 said gravely, " And if Mrs. Alderson becomes con- 
 scious, you must tell her now positively that the 
 child is dead. There must be no element of doubt 
 in your manner or words, and indeed I fear there
 
 THE REVENGE CARRIED OUT 153 
 
 is no faintest room for doubt concerning his fate, 
 poor little chap." 
 
 " But the shock may kill her," objected Cicely, 
 maintaining her composure by an effort as she 
 realised what might lie before her. 
 
 " That we can only leave to a higher Power 
 than mine to decide," he replied ; " but certainty 
 will be more bearable than uncertainty." 
 
 " If some one else could do it ? " pleaded Cicely, 
 trembling visibly now. 
 
 " But there is no one else than you," he urged ; 
 " you could not let her hear it from the lips of a 
 stranger ; and your brother is not fit for it either. 
 Indeed I am watching him closely just now, and 
 I shall not be surprised if he goes down with a 
 fever in the course of the next twenty-four hours. 
 I mean to remain for the purpose of looking after 
 him, so I shall be on hand if you want me." 
 
 " Thank you," Cicely answered, moving away, 
 too stunned to realise the full extent of the trouble, 
 or what it would mean to them all if Bernard 
 also was to be smitten down with sickness. 
 
 Towards the evening of the next day there 
 came a welcome arrival at Karrapolla in the 
 person of Mrs. Le Strange, the wife of Julie's 
 cousin, from Whitehills. 
 
 Woosh had succeeded in making the journey
 
 154 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 to Whitehills, despite the pouring rain which 
 rendered travelling so immensely difficult, and, 
 carrying thither the tidings of disaster, had 
 brought the lady of the house back with him. 
 
 Mrs. Le Strange was an Englishwoman, a 
 bustling, capable individual of forty, or perhaps 
 forty -five, who took in the situation at a glance, 
 and straightway acted up to it. 
 
 She did not reprove Cicely for breaking down 
 and crying when she arrived, but encouraged 
 and petted her, telling her that everything would 
 come right by and by. Which, vague and un- 
 certain though it was, comforted Cicely like a 
 prophecy of hope for the future. 
 
 With the finding of the little shoe all search 
 for Dick was practically at an end. And 
 Bernard had justified the doctor's prognostica- 
 tions by going down with a sharp attack of 
 fever, raving and moaning in delirium, and 
 ceaselessly calling for little Dick. 
 
 "You know," sobbed Cicely, when she 
 welcomed Mrs. Le Strange, "that I believed 
 Dick had been stolen away by Wimala, and that 
 was why I sent Woosh to your place. But 
 yesterday when they found nis little shoe I gave 
 up that hope." 
 
 Mrs. Le Strange shook her head. " So the boy
 
 THE REVENGE CARRIED OUT 155 
 
 Woosh said ; but, my dear, you see that it was in 
 a manner impossible, for the poor thing was 
 stolen away herself, as you may say. It was 
 only the day after Woosh went away before, that 
 time when he brought her to our place I mean, 
 that the chief of her tribe, a hideous-looking 
 savage he was too, came and claimed her, and 
 took her away with him." 
 
 " She did leave your house, then ? " said Cicely, 
 a flash of something like hope coming into her 
 heart. 
 
 " She was dragged away, as you may say, 
 though she cried and screamed and implored the 
 man to leave her. I would have insisted on her 
 remaining but for Mr. Le Strange, who told me 
 I had much better not interfere, for those Eock 
 Veddahs are not nice people to be on bad terms 
 with, despite all that is said and written on the 
 subject of their meek inoffensiveness." 
 
 " Woosh believed that Wimala had stolen the 
 boy," Cicely replied, harping on the string of her 
 former belief with a curious persistence. 
 
 " Yet even Woosh sees now how impossible it 
 would have been for the girl, who was no better 
 than a prisoner herself, to have abducted the 
 child and got clear away without having been 
 seen by someone," urged Mrs. Le Strange,
 
 156 CICELY FROME 
 
 anxious to save Cicely the tortures of a hopeless 
 suspense. 
 
 She shook her head, deep down in her heart 
 there was a tiny germ of hope that quite refused 
 to die, try as she would to stamp it out as being 
 unreasonable and impracticable. It was growing 
 and growing all the time, pushing its head 
 between the uncongenial rocks of adverse facts, 
 and making a glow of rosy promise where all 
 else was intensely dark and drear. 
 
 " But, child, we must make arrangements for 
 you to have a night's rest, or you will be going 
 down with fever like your brother," Mrs. Le 
 Strange went on, seeing how worn Cicely looked 
 with the terrible strain of the past days. 
 
 " I should be glad to have a long sleep, for 
 I am getting blind and dazed with weariness," 
 she answered, choking back a wide yawn, yet 
 scarcely succeeding in suppressing it, so com- 
 pletely was she tired out and longing for rest. 
 
 " I am sure you must be. If Woosh can 
 manage Bernard for to-night, I will look after 
 Julie. The doctor is coming back, isn't he ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I am not sure that he can stay, for 
 they have cholera at Wullamah, and he goes 
 there twice a day." 
 
 " Poor wretch ! " cried Mrs. Le Strange, with
 
 THE REVENGE CARRIED OUT 157 
 
 a shrug of her comfortable shoulders, " I wonder 
 who would be a doctor, in rural Ceylon at least. 
 But you be off to your bed, child, and sleep 
 whilst you can." 
 
 " I will lie down on the couch here if you 
 don't mind, because if Julie rouses I must tell 
 her about Dick, the doctor said I was to let no 
 one else do it," Cicely replied, with an enormous 
 yawn, which this time escaped her without the 
 semblance of suppression even. 
 
 " Fudge and nonsense, the doctor is an old 
 woman though that, I know, is a vile slander of 
 my own sex. If Julie wakes I will tell her what 
 I think proper, just that and no more. But you 
 must go away to a quiet room and have your 
 sleep out ; Mahdoo can get anything I may want." 
 
 Mahdoo was the kitchen girl, who scrubbed 
 and cleaned and helped with the cooking ; a 
 slow, heavy-footed Singhalese woman, whose 
 density was only equalled by her faithfulness. 
 She and Woosh were the only house servants, 
 and had lived at Karrapolla as long as Bernard 
 himself. 
 
 Cicely rolled herself in a rug and fell asleep, 
 all too weary for the ceremony of undressing. 
 She had only one sensation, it was not sufficiently 
 vivid to be called a thought, as she lay down,
 
 1 58 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 and that was gratitude for the opportunity to 
 slumber. 
 
 It was only sunset when she went to her room, 
 and soon after the moon had risen the doctor 
 arrived to pay a flying visit and away again, 
 for the cholera at Wullamah was proving trouble- 
 some ; ten people had died in the short space of 
 two days, and fifteen more had sickened. He 
 expressed his entire approval of the arrange- 
 ments Mrs. Le Strange had made, and then 
 asked if he could borrow a horse, his own beast 
 having stumbled and received a hurt through 
 the badness of the roads. 
 
 " Why, yes, Dr. Durrant, we should be worse 
 than heathen if we refused such a request. Go 
 and help yourself, there are horses in the 
 stables ; two are fresh, but mine and the one 
 Woosh rode are a bit winded, for it was no joke 
 riding down from Whitehills to-day, I can 
 assure you," Mrs. Le Strange answered, sending 
 Mahdoo with a lantern to assist the doctor in 
 making his choice. 
 
 " I shall probably sleep at Wullamah, if I can 
 find a place clean enough to lie down in, that is ; 
 and I shall be here not later than sunset to- 
 morrow," he said, as he bade her good-night and 
 followed Mahdoo out to the stables.
 
 THE REVENGE CARRIED OUT 159 
 
 It was very still and solemn at Karrapolla 
 that night ; in one room Julie lay in her death- 
 like trance, in another Bernard moaned and 
 tossed in feverish restlessness, murmuring little 
 Dick's name, whilst Cicely lay in a profound 
 slumber huddled on her bed. Mrs. Le Strange, 
 passing quietly as a shadow from room to room, 
 shivered a little, and was thankful for the com- 
 panionship of the two friendly blacks. So the 
 night passed and the morning came, the dawn of 
 a day that was to see a mighty increase in the 
 growth of the tiny hope-germ that was enshrined 
 in Cicely's heart.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 
 
 ] CELT'S slumber had lasted many 
 hours, and her brain, having re- 
 covered somewhat from its exhaus- 
 tion, began to stir and grope in 
 that mysterious tangle of fancies which we call 
 dreams. 
 
 She was a little child at home once more, and 
 her mother was reading to her from the Bible, 
 and the tones of the weak, somewhat fretful, 
 voice that she remembered so well rose and fell 
 in reverent cadences, whilst Cicely strove to 
 catch the meaning of the words she uttered : 
 " ' And being warned of God in a dream/ " the 
 plaintive tones repeated over and over again, 
 until Cicely, growing impatient, cried out 
 
 "Mother, mother, is there nothing but that 
 in your Bible to-day?" 
 
 " Yes, child, yes, one thing more," said her
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 161 
 
 mother's voice, speaking low and distinctly, 
 whilst a thin finger went searching up and 
 down the page. " See here, daughter Cicely, 
 ' It came and stood over where the young child 
 
 was.' 5 
 
 Scarcely had the words been uttered than 
 with a start Cicely awoke. Awoke to find that 
 she had been dreaming, though so vivid and 
 forceful was the dream that it seemed like a 
 vision, an actual scene from the remote past, 
 yet why it had been sent she knew not. 
 
 But slumber was heavy on her still, and the 
 day was only just dawning, surely she might 
 take one short hour longer in which to yield 
 to the delicious drowsiness that held her so 
 fast. 
 
 Even whilst she lingered on the debatable 
 ground 'twixt duty and inclination, sleep over- 
 took her once more, and again she began to 
 dream. 
 
 This time, however, it was no resuscitated 
 page of her past that was spread out before 
 her, but she herself was the centre of intense 
 endeavour. She was rowing in a small boat 
 down a dark silent stream, hurrying, hurrying, 
 with a chill dread at her heart, while the storm 
 clouds gathered darker above her, and a wild
 
 162 CICELY FROME 
 
 wind moaned all around. On and on she 
 panted, knowing nothing of whither her journey 
 tended, but striving always to reach her goal. 
 Then suddenly a flat grey stone came into view 
 on the bank of the river. Ah, that was the 
 spot she was trying to reach ; and on the stone 
 something was lying. " The Veddah - stone ! 
 the Veddah -stone ! " she cried, and her effort 
 to shout awoke her. 
 
 Mrs. Le Strange was standing by her bed, 
 holding a tray with a cup of steaming coffee 
 on it. 
 
 " I had to wake you because it is so late ; but 
 what a nightmare you were having. What was 
 it all about, child?" 
 
 Cicely hesitated. She was trying hard to 
 grope amongst her mental mists and fogs of 
 thought, endeavouring to fit together the mosaic 
 of dreams that had so vividly impressed them- 
 selves upon her, and to make of the fragments a 
 coherent whole. 
 
 But the effort was beyond her, her faculties 
 being still numb and torpid from the lethargy of 
 sleep. And instead she addressed herself to the 
 coffee, eating her breakfast with a relish born of 
 renewed vigour and strength. 
 
 " Mrs. Le Strange, I don't believe that Dick
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 163 
 
 is dead," she said suddenly, looking up from her 
 breakfast ruminations. 
 
 " Where is he, then ? " was that lady's very 
 reasonable query. 
 
 " I don't know. But I am sure those two 
 dreams did not come to me for nothing ; " and 
 then she detailed for the benefit of Mrs. Le Strange 
 the visions, which, though so opposite in character, 
 had, she was assured, some hidden connection 
 with each other. 
 
 Mrs. Le Strange was not impressed however, 
 and though she was too polite to make open fun 
 of Cicely's faith, there was so much covert un- 
 belief in her manner that the other sighed 
 despairingly, and wondered where she might turn 
 to find a sympathiser and a friend who might 
 help her in her need. 
 
 For the present she was fain to put the matter 
 from her and attend to the business in hand, the 
 invalids had to be cared for, a counsel of ways 
 and means gone into with Mrs. Le Strange, and 
 lastly, but by no means least in the matter of im- 
 portance, she had to look after outdoor interests, 
 which at this time of the year especially it would 
 be ruinous to neglect. 
 
 But all the time that her attention was occu- 
 pied in this fashion, the hope in her heart was
 
 1 64 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 fast merging to a certainty that little Dick was 
 still in the land of the living. She was in the 
 stable, looking after the wounded leg of the 
 doctor's horse, making the bare-legged boy who 
 was helping her bathe the limb with clean water 
 whilst she prepared for it a bandage of arnica 
 leaves, when a sudden inspiration came to her 
 that fairly made her gasp with the magnitude of 
 its daring. 
 
 Why should she not go to the secret haunts 
 of the Eock Veddah and demand from the chief 
 of the tribe the boy who had been stolen away ? 
 It looked an impossible thing to do. To begin 
 with, Wimala might not have stolen the child, 
 but the chances were that she had ; in which 
 case it was just as reasonable for her to demand 
 him of the tribe, as for the chief to visit 
 Whitehills and bring away Wimala from the 
 household of Mr. Le Strange. 
 
 It was the ways and means that troubled her 
 most. She was only a girl of seventeen, pretty 
 well inured to roughing it by now, but only a 
 girl for all that, and, in consequence, hemmed in 
 and fettered by the restrictions of custom and 
 habit, and the thraldom of the unemancipated 
 woman. 
 
 If only she had been a boy ! And her foot
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 165 
 
 came down in an angry stamp on the hard clay- 
 floor of the stable as she inwardly bewailed this 
 disadvantage of sex. Fretting and fuming would 
 not help, however, and having finished with the 
 doctor's horse, she ordered her own to be saddled 
 and brought round, as she had to visit some out- 
 lying fields, and would have in consequence of 
 the floods to wade through acres of submerged 
 plantations. 
 
 The outdoor exercise was delightful after her 
 close confinement to the house, and her spirits 
 were rising as she cantered down the lane and 
 away across country to those distant fields she 
 proposed to personally inspect that day. 
 
 She did not succeed, however ; in fact she very 
 nearly shared poor little Dick's supposed fate 
 instead, only escaping by a miracle a miracle 
 due to the fact that she belonged to the sex she 
 had been so scornfully despising, and wore the 
 habit of her fellows in misfortune. 
 
 It came about in this manner. Owing to the 
 tremendous violence of the rains the tank had 
 overflowed, washing numerous crocodiles over 
 into the fields below, where they disported in 
 the temporary rivers and lakes, having a good 
 time of it generally, but suffering only the slight 
 drawback of insufficient diet. Their case would be
 
 1 66 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 harder later on, when the rivers and lakes would 
 be resolved into the solid ground once more, and 
 they left stranded and helpless to perish miser- 
 ably through lack of their favourite element. 
 Cicely was riding through one of these submerged 
 fields on her way to the higher ground beyond, 
 her horse splashing cautiously along with a view 
 to the avoidance of holes, treacherous tree stumps, 
 and the like, when suddenly a huge scaly body 
 arose from the water close beside her, and a pair 
 of big jaws seized her linen riding-skirt. 
 
 The frightened horse reared madly, and with a 
 shriek of terror Cicely clung with all her might 
 to its neck as it dashed frantically away ; the 
 pull was awful, it seemed as though her arms 
 were being torn from their sockets, but life and 
 death were in the balance and she maintained 
 her hold. Then came a noise of tearing fabric, a 
 sudden lessening of the strain, and she knew that 
 she was saved. 
 
 With the instinct of self-preservation that is 
 almost the first sense of a horse, the animal 
 dashed onward with its rider, making straight 
 for the higher grounds, where alone safety could 
 be assured. There was no cautious stepping 
 to avoid pitfalls now, but a wild rush through 
 water that often rose to the stirrup, and all the
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 167 
 
 time she was lying across the saddle wondering 
 if the girths would hold. 
 
 But dry land was reached at last, and the 
 horse came to a standstill of its own accord, 
 trembling with terror, and fairly blown from the 
 race across the flooded fields. And Cicely, as 
 though in order to show that she belonged to 
 the weaker and inferior sex, slid to the ground 
 beside her good steed and fainted quietly away. 
 
 She soon recovered though, and sat up to 
 indulge in a good cry by way of relieving her 
 feelings, whilst the horse looked on, mutely 
 marvelling maybe on the paradoxes presented by 
 human nature, that kept quiet when danger was 
 imminent and shed tears when it was past. 
 
 No advantage was to be gained by this kind 
 of thing, however, and after a short indulgence 
 in the luxury of weeping, Cicely looked about to 
 meditate a way out of her dilemma. 
 
 There was no question of visiting those distant 
 fields, which on her setting out she had intended 
 to survey, for between them and her lay another 
 wide, deep valley which was probably now a 
 roaring water - course, and she wanted no more 
 wading through submerged fields that day. 
 
 The return journey to Karrapolla presented 
 even greater difficulties, for the nearer to the
 
 1 68 CICELY FRO ME 
 
 tank the more likelihood of meeting another 
 scaly tourist, a contingency that neither horse 
 nor rider would care to risk again. 
 
 She knitted her brows in great perplexity, she 
 was on the beginning of a range of low hills that 
 sloped away to the eastward, descending finally 
 to the Mataganga valley. The thought of the 
 river suggested the ferryman, and then it came 
 to her like a flash of inspiration that if anyone 
 could discover the whereabouts of Wimala in the 
 camp of the Rock Veddahs it would be Joe 
 Smith, who was the authorised middle - man 
 between them and the trading world. 
 
 For a moment she hesitated, held back by the 
 thought of the two invalids at Karrapolla, and 
 the anxiety Mrs. Le Strange would suffer if her 
 absence from home were unduly prolonged. 
 
 " Being warned of God in a dream." How the 
 words haunted her ; surely the vision would not 
 have been sent but for a good purpose, and if it 
 really was a warning she would be very much to 
 blame if she neglected to put it to the test. 
 
 "I'll stop at Tom Colman's and get him to 
 ride over to Karrapolla," she said to herself, as 
 she led her horse to a convenient stump which 
 might serve as a mounting-block, surveying the 
 gaping rents in her riding-skirt as she rode away
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 169 
 
 with a rather rueful air, mentally resolving that 
 she would implore the loan of another skirt from 
 Mrs. Colman when she reached their place. 
 
 The Colmans managed a large coffee plantation 
 for a gentleman living in Kandy, and were the 
 nearest neighbours on that side that the Alder- 
 sons had. They were simple, hard-working people, 
 with a swarm of shock-headed children. Cicely 
 had always looked down upon them as uninter- 
 esting, and not worth knowing ; but even the 
 most commonplace and ordinary people come in 
 useful at a pinch, and so without further ado she 
 turned her horse's head in the direction of their 
 place. 
 
 The house was built in bungalow style, and 
 had in the early fifties been a place of consider- 
 able importance. But it had fallen into decay 
 now, and the larger portion of it was ruinous in 
 the extreme. Three or four children were playing 
 on the verandah as Cicely rode up to the house, 
 along a carriage-drive all choked and overgrown 
 with weeds, but they ceased their game at her 
 approach, and fled to cover like rats to a hole. 
 
 But she had been there before, and knew her 
 way in. Slipping from her saddle, and throwing 
 the rein over a post, she ran up the verandah 
 steps and entered the house by a French window
 
 1 70 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 that always remained open because it was too 
 infirm to shut. A tousled-headed child peeped 
 timidly from behind a great heap of broken 
 boards that reposed in the centre of this 
 dilapidated drawing-room, and Cicely addressed 
 herself to the owner of the entangled locks, 
 asking coaxingly, "Won't you come out from 
 there and show me where to find your mother ? " 
 
 A prolonged stare was the only reply to this, 
 and the visitor cast about for a suitable bribe. 
 " My horse is out there tied to the verandah 
 post. I shan't stay long, and when I go I might 
 give you a ride on its back down the avenue," 
 she went on in a tone of studied indifference, 
 passing as she spoke from the ruinous reception 
 room to the no less ruinous hall beyond. 
 
 In a moment the child was beside her, slipping 
 a small grubby hand into hers, and asking in an 
 anxious tone, " Say now, Miss Frome, will it 
 buck, do you reckon ? " 
 
 "What is that?" inquired the visitor, her 
 vocabulary proving inadequate. 
 
 " Standing on its forelegs, and waggling the 
 hind 'uns in the air," replied the juvenile Colman, 
 illustrating her explanation by practical demon- 
 stration, walking on the palms of her hands, 
 whilst a pair of dirty white canvas shoes very
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 171 
 
 much the worse for wear were kicked vigorously 
 in the air, in no bad imitation of a bucking 
 broncho. 
 
 " Oh no, my horse will do nothing of that 
 kind. It is perfectly gentle, and safe to ride," 
 Cicely answered, her eyes growing moist at the 
 thought of how the creature had saved her life 
 that day. 
 
 " Bally, I'd as soon ride a bullock as a horse 
 like that, so you can find mother yourself, she 
 ain't a mile away ; " and Miss Colman retired, 
 mightily indignant at the feeble and unattractive 
 character of the bribe held out to her by the 
 " Gal from Karrapolla." 
 
 Thrown upon her own resources, Cicely crossed 
 the hall, passed down a short corridor, descended 
 a flight of some half-dozen shallow steps, and 
 entered the big kitchen, which was in a much 
 better state of preservation, and looked comfort- 
 able, and inviting even, with its well-scoured 
 tables and bamboo rocking-chairs. 
 
 A little woman who was swaying herself and 
 a baby to and fro in one of these last rose 
 hastily at sight of a visitor, and came forward 
 with effusive greeting. 
 
 " Sakes alive, Miss Frome, I am glad to see 
 you ! But do tell, how is poor Mrs. Alderson to-
 
 1 7 2 CJCEL Y FROME 
 
 day ? I was going to ask Tom to ride over and 
 see, for I felt real anxious to know." 
 
 " She is just the same, thank you, Mrs. Colman ; 
 there has been no change," answered Cicely 
 sorrowfully. 
 
 A stream of sympathetic tears gushed from 
 the eyes of the friendly little woman. "Poor 
 soul, I don't wonder she's so bad, to lose a child 
 like that is enough to kill a mother. Poor 
 dear, poor dear ! " 
 
 But Cicely's time was short, if she meant 
 to carry out her planned intentions before dark, 
 and at the risk of appearing unsympathetic she 
 had to ignore the sorrows resting on Karrapolla 
 and come to the point at once. 
 
 "Mrs. Colman, I've been called away on 
 business, and they don't know at home ; would 
 Mr. Colman ride over, do you think, and tell 
 them I am going to Harraganga, and shall not 
 be back for two days perhaps ? Mrs. Le Strange 
 is there, and will see to Julie and Bernard. But 
 I should be glad if Mr. Colman would give an 
 eye to the coolies, they are such an idle, thieving 
 lot that we have now." 
 
 " Sure they're all that, Miss Frome ; bad's the 
 best, I says, where . coolies are concerned. But 
 Tom shall go, and he'll give an eye to things till
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 173 
 
 you come back. Do tell, is anything the matter 
 that you've to go off in such a hurry ? " asked 
 the little woman, whose kindness was only 
 equalled by her curiosity. 
 
 Cicely hesitated, then out it came, the telling 
 prompted by that yearning for sympathy which 
 should add weight to her own belief in the 
 reality of her vision or dream. 
 
 " I have dreamed that little Dick is alive, and 
 that I shall find him among the Rock Yeddahs. 
 Mrs. Le Strange laughs, and says it is nonsense, 
 and the doctor will say so too, but I cannot rest 
 until I have made sure, and I'm going to the 
 ferry to ask Joe Smith to help me, and then I 
 shall ride on and sleep at Harraganga, at the 
 place where we stayed on our way up from the 
 coast." 
 
 " Well, well I never, but you are a plucky one, 
 Miss Frome ! And with only a dream to back 
 you either. You are all ragged too, and wet as 
 wet ! Say now, where have you been ? " and Mrs. 
 Colman nearly dropped her baby in her astonish- 
 ment at Cicely's bedraggled appearance. 
 
 The episode of the crocodile had to be told 
 then, whereat Mrs. Colman exclaimed still more, 
 but she promptly produced another skirt, which 
 though somewhat startling in pattern, was whole
 
 i 7 4 CICELY FROME 
 
 and presentable, and Cicely donned it in all 
 haste. 
 
 She was riding away when a frantic scream of 
 " Stop, stop ! " from Mrs. Colman made her turn 
 her horse's head and ride back to the verandah 
 steps once more. 
 
 " I won't be a second," shrieked that worthy 
 woman, darting back into the house as Cicely 
 drew rein at the steps again. 
 
 But it was nearer two minutes by the clock 
 before she returned, panting and triumphant, 
 bearing in her arms a hideous semblance of a 
 human head, curiously fashioned from a rock- 
 crystal, and having for its eyes two gleaming 
 rubies. 
 
 " Oh," cried Cicely, shrinking back in disgust, 
 for the thing was so ugly, "what is it, Mrs. 
 Colman ? " 
 
 " I don't know what they call it, Miss Frome, 
 but I'm told all Veddahs prize that sort of thing 
 very highly. The children found it the very 
 first flood-time after we came here, and they were 
 wild to have it for a plaything, but Tom wouldn't 
 let them, for he said it wasn't fitting that what 
 was god to one set of people should be playthings 
 for another, so I put the thing away and forgot 
 all about it till three minutes ago. But you
 
 THE VEDDAH-STONE 175 
 
 take it with you, my dear, and the ferryman of 
 Mataganga will be able to tell you whether or 
 no it's of any use." 
 
 " Thank you very much, Mrs. Colman," she 
 answered, not shrinking now from the grim 
 distorted visage, with its gleaming, blood red 
 eyes, but stooping eagerly down to gather it 
 under her arm. 
 
 Mrs. Colman waved her away with many loudly 
 expressed wishes for her good luck, finishing by 
 screaming out when Cicely had once more got 
 clear away that the name by which the stone 
 was known was the Holy-Ved. 
 
 " And now, old fellow," said Cicely, talking to 
 her horse as she rode away, " we are bound for 
 the Veddah-stone, so hurry away, or we'll not 
 reach the ferry to-night, I fear."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 ON THE SPOT 
 
 HE road to the ferry was still flooded 
 in many places, though the waters 
 were subsiding rapidly. But here 
 Cicely did not fear so much, as the 
 water in no case rose higher than half-way the 
 horse's legs, and she could see better where 
 danger lurked below the surface. 
 
 When, however, she heard the thunder of the 
 cataract, and saw the hissing, seething waters of 
 the Mataganga, her heart almost stood still with 
 fear at the thought of crossing that raging flood. 
 And steeling her courage with the thought of little 
 Dick, and the effort she was making to find out 
 whether the leading of her dream had been 
 anything beyond the chaos of confused fancies 
 induced by trouble, she rode up to where the 
 horn hung suspended from the tree and blew it 
 
 long and loudly. 
 
 176
 
 ON THE SPOT 177 
 
 But it needed more than one blast before the 
 door of the little hut opened, and she saw two 
 men come down to the shore and push off from 
 the opposite bank. To her surprise they let the 
 boat drift down stream for some distance before 
 steering across, this method of crossing took some 
 time, as they had to row against the current to 
 reach the place where Cicely waited. 
 
 The man, Joe Smith, came towards her with a 
 curious blending of hesitation and eagerness on 
 his sombre face, but Cicely had been so engrossed 
 by the suspense and sorrow of little Dick's loss 
 as to have banished from her mind completely the 
 strange behaviour of this sad-faced old man on 
 the day when she and Bernard went a-hunting. 
 
 " Do you want to cross, Miss Frome ? " he 
 asked, his big brown hands working nervously 
 as they hung down by his sides. 
 
 "I want your advice first, and then if you 
 think it is of any use going on with my ideas I 
 will go back with you in the boat," she said, 
 launching forth into her story, and winding it 
 up with displaying the Holy-Ved which Mrs. 
 Colman had bestowed upon her. 
 
 Joe Smith did not speak for a time, but 
 walked to and fro thinking deeply. 
 
 " There's reason in your idea, but then, of 
 
 12
 
 1 78 CICEL Y fROME 
 
 course, it is only an idea, and as likely as not 
 this girl Wimala may be entirely innocent of 
 any hand in the child's loss. Still you've come 
 at a fortunate time, for I have to be at the 
 Veddah-stone to-night at midnight, to do the 
 regular monthly barter arranged for by the 
 authorities, and I can take you and that ugly 
 green thing with me," he said, his face unbend- 
 ing somewhat as he looked at the green-hued 
 crystal with its eyes of fire. 
 
 " To-night ! oh, will you ? " she cried, choking 
 down a big lump in her throat brought there by 
 gratitude for the way in which the obstacles 
 were melting from her pathway. 
 
 Cicely took her place in the boat, and, the 
 horse being fastened by a rope to prevent 
 accidents, they pushed off into the stream again, 
 taking the same precautions of drifting down 
 with the current that had been observed IB 
 coming over. 
 
 " That beast is getting spent," remarked the 
 other man, whose speech had a northern ring ; 
 this was Noel Blackson, who had come to help 
 the ferryman in the heavy work of flood-time 
 ferrying. 
 
 " Poor thing," Cicely said regretfully, " I have 
 worked it hard to-day, but it shall rest to-morrow,
 
 ON THE SPOT 179 
 
 even if I have to borrow a mule to do its work. 
 Oh, what is that ? " this last with a little scream 
 of fright, for the animal began to plunge and 
 kick violently. 
 
 " It's a crocodile," yelled Noel, applying his 
 oars diligently in order to drag the horse beyond 
 the reach of its cruel foes ; whilst the small 
 boy Kuda, who was steering, set up a series of 
 unearthly yells in order to frighten the enemy, 
 whose nerves are, according to popular belief, very 
 liable to be upset by shrieks and screams. 
 
 Joe Smith was drawing in the rope, hand over 
 hand, in order to get the horse as close as possible, 
 while Cicely, pale, and trembling with horror, 
 could only sit still and look on at this unequal 
 warfare. 
 
 " Ha ! " cried Noel sharply, " it's no use, Joe, 
 they've got it." 
 
 At the same moment the poor animal gave a 
 frightened shriek that was almost human in its 
 tone, disappearing at the same moment under 
 the water that showed faintly red from the 
 stain of its blood. 
 
 And then Cicely, grown-up though she was, 
 fairly broke down, and sobbed like a baby at 
 this tragic ending to the creature that had carried 
 her so well.
 
 1 80 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 Noel looked painfully embarrassed by this 
 exhibition of feeling on the part of the young 
 lady, whilst Kuda would have grinned with 
 delight at the spectacle but from a whole- 
 some dread of someone boxing his ears for so 
 doing. 
 
 Joe Smith, however, took upon himself the 
 office of comforter, and laying his hand gently on 
 her arm, said in his queer gutturals, " Don't fret, 
 Miss Frome, the poor beast didn't suffer they 
 never do when they die like that." 
 
 Cicely looked up at him gratefully, and 
 wondered even then that his instinct should 
 have been quick enough to discover that it was 
 the probable death-agony of the horse, and not 
 her own steedless plight, that was trying her so 
 sorely. 
 
 There was no time for anything more to be 
 said, as the landing-place was at that moment 
 reached. But when Cicely stood irresolute, 
 wondering what was the best thing to do, Joe 
 Smith approached her again, " You will come and 
 rest a bit in my hut, Miss Frome, and then we 
 can settle the best means of getting you to 
 Harraganga." 
 
 She followed him thankfully, wondering a 
 little what Bernard would say about the loss
 
 ON THE SPOT 181 
 
 of the horse ; and how she should manage to 
 get little Dick to Karrapolla, supposing she found 
 him. 
 
 As these questions called for no immediate 
 answer, she was glad to put them aside and to 
 entertain the more pressing wonderment as to 
 how she might satisfy her hunger, which was 
 beginning to obtrude itself very unpleasantly 
 upon her notice. 
 
 Joe brought a stool for her to be seated, then 
 asked sharply, " Are you quite sure that you can 
 trust yourself to me, to-night ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course ; besides, there's no danger, is 
 there ? " she asked, looking up into the thin, pain- 
 lined face of the man whose life was under a 
 cloud. 
 
 "There is no danger. But your brother 
 might very strongly disapprove, if he knew what 
 you are doing," he replied, still doubtfully. 
 
 " If Bernard knew that there was any possi- 
 bility of finding Dick, do you think he would 
 object ? and surely with you I shall be as safe as 
 though I were with my own father ? " she said, 
 marvelling at his objections and fears. 
 
 " Ay, that indeed you will ! " he said in a 
 moved tone, averting his head suddenly. " Then 
 I had better tell the boy that he must bring me
 
 1 82 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 two mules down from Blackson's, and we'll be off 
 in another hour or so." 
 
 " I want to get away from here before the 
 doctor comes over, if I can," Cicely said, suddenly 
 remembering that he had spoken of coming before 
 sundown. 
 
 A queer little smile hovered round Joe Smith's 
 face at this. He was busying himself now in 
 bringing forward his one small table, and, placing 
 it in front of Cicely, set about furnishing forth 
 some sort of a meal. 
 
 "He is a good fellow, the doctor, though a bit 
 fond of having his own way perhaps ; you think 
 he would say that you were not to go, I suppose ? " 
 
 "He gives me a great many orders that I 
 never think of obeying," she answered, with a toss 
 of defiant scorn. 
 
 Joe Smith chuckled audibly at this, then 
 asked, rather anxiously, "Can you eat ship 
 biscuit ? I've no bread." 
 
 " Yes, I'm very fond of it ; it always makes me 
 think of my father," she answered. 
 
 He grunted, whether from pleasure or dis- 
 pleasure she could not determine, and turned 
 away to his cupboard once more. 
 
 " The doctor brought me that the last time 
 he crossed," he said, putting a roast peacock on
 
 ON THE SPOT 183 
 
 the table, where it was kept in countenance by a 
 pot of honey and a pile of biscuit. 
 
 " Won't you have something to eat too ? " she 
 asked, seeing there was only knife and fork for 
 one. 
 
 "Presently, when you've finished, I've only 
 one knife and fork," he answered, seating himself 
 on his padlocked box and preparing to watch 
 her feed. 
 
 But she was fumbling in her pocket, an inside 
 contrivance very difficult of access to the owner, 
 as is the way of ladies' pockets generally, though 
 pickpockets find them easily enough. " I have 
 a knife and fork somewhere, I always carry them ; 
 oh, here they are ! " and she drew forth a little 
 case that looked as though it might contain a 
 pocket-comb, but which held in reality a small 
 ivory fork. " Bernard used to laugh at me so 
 when we first went out shooting together be- 
 cause I never could enjoy my dinner without a 
 fork, and then one day when he had been to 
 Kandy he brought me this, and with my pocket 
 knife I am never at a loss." 
 
 They made a comfortable meal from the 
 doctor's peacock and the biscuit and honey, 
 though Cicely did most of the eating, Joe Smith 
 apparently finding more pleasure in watching
 
 1 84 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 his visitor feed than in ministering to his own 
 appetite. 
 
 When they had finished, and he was clearing 
 away the fragments, Cicely was intently examin- 
 ing the farther doorpost of the hut, that is the 
 one upon which the door hung ; from the top 
 right down to the ground it was filled with 
 deeply indented notches cut into the wood. 
 
 " What are these notches cut like this for ? " 
 she asked, bringing his attention round to the 
 doorpost. 
 
 He hesitated a minute, then came to stand 
 beside her, running his hand lovingly down the 
 scored post. "It is my record, and the most 
 valuable thing I possess," he answered, his voice 
 broken with emotion. 
 
 " Your record ? " she asked, uncomprehending 
 still. 
 
 He bowed his head, while a curious hesitancy 
 was upon him. 
 
 " Tell me about it ? " she insisted softly, 
 thinking that modesty tied his tongue. 
 
 " It looks like bragging, I know ; still, there 
 it is, and you will understand some day, if not 
 now, why I have kept such a careful account. 
 Every one of those cuts stands for a life that I 
 have saved, not merely that have been kept
 
 ON THE SPOT 185 
 
 from danger, but rescued from actual peril," he 
 replied. 
 
 " How many are there ? " she asked, in sur- 
 prise that one man should have been able to do 
 so much. 
 
 " Count them, and see for yourself," he replied, 
 with the air of one who has the number by 
 heart, but does not choose to tell it lest by so 
 doing he should appear unduly conceited or 
 proud of his own brave deeds. 
 
 By the time she had reckoned up the notches 
 to her own satisfaction the sun was dipping 
 behind the opposite bank of the Mataganga, and 
 the mules were at the door. 
 
 " Who will look after the ferry whilst you are 
 away ? " asked Cicely of her guide, as they rode 
 away up the long hill towards Harraganga. 
 
 "Noel; he is very good and safe at the 
 business ; besides, it's as well that he should be 
 left to try his hand at it alone, he'll be the better 
 able to get on by himself when my time comes, 
 and the doctor doesn't give me more than a 
 month now," Joe Smith said calmly, speaking 
 of the on-coming of death as though it were an 
 affair of little moment, a change to another 
 abode, perhaps, or an excursion to the nearest 
 town.
 
 1 86 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 " Did you save the lives of three hundred and 
 twenty people entirely by yourself ? " she asked, 
 her mind clinging with peculiar tenacity to the 
 notched doorpost and the story it had to tell. 
 
 " Single handed, every one of them ; there 
 have been others, but for those I had help, so I 
 didn't reckon them," he answered. 
 
 " It is a great deal for one man. Were they 
 all here at the Mataganga ferry ? " she asked, 
 thinking it would surely pay the Government to 
 do something to make the navigation of that 
 river safer if its toll of human lives were always 
 so great. 
 
 " No, not more than two hundred here ; but 
 there's an account of it all that I've written out 
 and put in my lock-up box, so that when my 
 time comes people may know for themselves," 
 he answered, in a tone that did not invite further 
 discussion, and for a while they rode in silence. 
 
 By this time it was intensely, weirdly dark. 
 Cicely could not see the head of her mule, whilst 
 her companion might have been miles away for 
 all the good her eyes got of his presence. Leav- 
 ing the reins loose on the necks of their animals, 
 they left the sagacious beasts to the guidance of 
 their own unfaltering instincts, and were not 
 disappointed in the result.
 
 ON THE SPOT 187 
 
 When the lights of Harraganga began to 
 twinkle in front of them, the moon was coming 
 up over the belt of forest to the eastward ; not a 
 visible moon as yet, but a faint gleam of light 
 all along the horizon, such as shows in England 
 when a tardy winter dawn is struggling at its 
 birth. In an hour it would be brilliantly light, 
 saving in the thick jungle, through which neither 
 sun nor moon could avail to send their rays. 
 
 At Harraganga came an hour's necessary delay, 
 spent by Joe Smith in sorting the various goods 
 sent to be offered in barter to the Veddahs ; these 
 comprised chiefly iron tools to be used in the 
 cultivation of the land, such as hoes, rakes, and 
 spades, together with various lengths of coloured 
 calicoes, a few blankets, and cooking utensils. 
 
 Having seen these put aboard a river boat, 
 and in charge of two stout rowers, he went to 
 the house of Frau Grant, where Cicely was 
 resting and awaiting the time to start. 
 
 She rose up eagerly when he entered the 
 house, thankful perhaps for the chance of escape 
 from the active cross-questioning of the worthy 
 Frau, whose curiosity was neither more nor less 
 than that of her sex in general, but who yet had 
 a keen and wholly natural thirst for information, 
 which tendency was apt to prove distinctly
 
 1 88 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 trying to any victim not desirous of absolute 
 frankness. 
 
 " I'm almost ready, Miss Frome," he said, in 
 answer to the appeal in her eyes, which, with 
 his knowledge of the worthy Frau, he had no 
 difficulty in rightly interpreting. 
 
 " I am very glad," she said, with a sigh of 
 relief, for the suspense was growing harder to be 
 borne, and doubts were assailing her now as to 
 the wisdom and common sense of her venture. 
 Supposing it failed to show any light on the fate 
 of her missing nephew, she was hearing the 
 confident " I told you so's " of Mrs. Le Strange, 
 of the doctor, of everyone, in fact, with whom 
 she came in contact, whilst all the time her own 
 conscience would upbraid her in that she had 
 left a known duty for a wild-goose chase such 
 as this. 
 
 Before they started Frau Grant brought a 
 warm cloak and put it round Cicely's shoulders. 
 " I don't like your going one bit, and I'd stay you 
 by force if you hadn't Joe Smith to take care of 
 you," said the old lady, hovering between anger 
 and tears, snorting and sniffing, and seemingly 
 in a very mixed frame of mind, as she buttoned 
 the cloak with little vicious tweaks expressive of 
 her inward indignation at the escapade.
 
 ON THE SPOT 189 
 
 " She'll be all right, never you fear, Mother 
 Grant. Come along, if you're ready, Miss Frome, 
 for now we've no time to lose," and, giving her 
 his hand, the ferryman helped Cicely down the 
 steps to the boat. 
 
 In a few moments the lights of Harraganga 
 were hid from sight by a bend in the stream, 
 and they were plunged into a world of silence 
 and darkness, saving for that ribbon of brilliant 
 moonlight lying on the black waters of the river 
 that shone in between the overarching tree-tops. 
 
 Cicely, wrapped in her cloak, sat absolutely 
 silent, Joe Smith also appearing to have lapsed 
 into a reverie. 
 
 They were dropping down with the current, 
 with nothing to do but to keep the boat's head 
 well in the centre of the stream, just where that 
 ribbon of silver stretched its narrow track, and 
 the swift flowing water did the rest. 
 
 "You did not forget the Holy-Ved?" the 
 ferryman asked, leaning forward and speaking to 
 her in a low tone, which yet seemed curiously 
 out of place in that profound hush. 
 
 " I have it here, safe under my cloak," she 
 answered in a whisper, not daring to speak 
 above her breath lest she should disturb the 
 awful repose reigning all around, that was like
 
 1 90 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 the slumber of a giant who would slay when he 
 awoke. 
 
 After that no word was spoken until they 
 reached a spot where the moonlight broadened 
 out to a big patch, and softly illumined the goal 
 of their journeying, the Veddah-stone. 
 
 With the same silence that had characterised 
 their journey down the stream, the two native 
 men and Joe Smith swiftly cleared the 
 merchandise from the boat, and carrying it up 
 the bank, bundle by bundle, laid it on the flat 
 grey stone, where the moonlight caught the 
 sharpened edges of the hoes and turned them 
 into silver forthwith. 
 
 For Cicely the ferryman had found a seat on 
 a fallen log, placed well back in the shadow, 
 where, muffled in her dark cloak, she was com- 
 pletely hidden from view, a shadow among 
 shadows. 
 
 The boat with its two native rowers dropped 
 away from the bank and was hidden by the 
 darkness, while Joe Smith stood alone and un- 
 armed in the bright patch of moonlight shining 
 down on the stone.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE BARTER 
 
 OTIONLESS as a figure carved in 
 stone stood Joe Smith, while Cicely 
 watched him until her eyes ached. 
 When she opened 'them, after one 
 second of resting with them closed, she saw to 
 her amazement that he was no longer alone. 
 
 Two other figures were there examining with 
 apparent curiosity the articles of barter lying on 
 the grey old stone. Odd and distorted they 
 looked, standing out in sharp silhouette against 
 the vivid lunar light. No words passed between 
 them saving some low inarticulate grunts of 
 satisfaction, which doubtless stood to them in 
 place of speech. Then, when their investigation 
 was ended, they began to clear the things to one 
 side of the stone, leaving the other half empty. 
 
 Joe Smith, looking on, made no attempt to 
 assist them or to in any way interfere with their
 
 1 9 2 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 proceedings. But when they had settled the 
 merchandise, and with a quick, silent movement 
 disappeared into the jungle again, he stepped 
 forward and laid the hideous face of the Holy- 
 Ved on the empty stone, its red eyes catching 
 a light from the moonbeams, and shining like 
 two baleful fires in a shimmer of green from the 
 rock-crystal. 
 
 How the minutes lagged after that ! Cicely 
 felt a clammy cold something brush against her 
 face, and could have shrieked in very terror, but 
 she dared not ; something glided over her feet 
 too, a snake probably, yet still she maintained 
 her attitude of impassive silence, and presently 
 she had her reward. 
 
 It might have been five minutes, it might 
 have been ten, or even half an hour, so im- 
 possible is it to reckon time by heart-beats, 
 when two dark figures glided out of the deep 
 shadow of the jungle towards the lighted space 
 round the Veddah-stone. 
 
 They were about to place 'some heavy bundles 
 on the stone, when, their attention being caught 
 by the gleam of the ruby eyes, they uttered a 
 simultaneous howl of amazement, and, dropping 
 their bundles, fled back into the shadows whence 
 they had just emerged.
 
 THE BARTER 193 
 
 And now a strange thing happened ; the jungle 
 which had been so silent and lifeless hitherto 
 had become suddenly instinct with palpitating 
 emotion. There was no sound of voices, but a 
 sensation of movement and soft low whistling, 
 such as Wimala had used in her subjugation of 
 little Dick. 
 
 It was more like a nightmare than an actuality, 
 and Cicely drove her nails into the fleshy part 
 of her palms to keep from crying out in an 
 ecstasy of fear. 
 
 Joe Smith's figure was reassuring, and she 
 fixed her eyes on him with a feeling of helpless 
 bewilderment, wondering why he did not move 
 and break the spell. 
 
 The Veddahs were approaching again ; this 
 time seven or eight of them emerged from the 
 shadow into the circle of moonlight surrounding 
 the stone. Then dropping on their knees, they 
 crawled with abject humility to where lay the 
 ugly green face with its gleaming eyes. One 
 man, apparently the chief, touched it with a 
 reverent finger, whilst the rest gave a deep, 
 hoarse growl of satisfaction, and after a few 
 minutes spent in grovelling before the face, 
 which was so evidently an object of worship, 
 they crawled back into the shadow, and one 
 13
 
 1 94 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 man, rising to his feet, came to speak with Joe 
 Smith. 
 
 But to Cicely's surprise the ferryman appeared 
 quite unable to understand the language of grunts, 
 and growls, and energetic gesticulation with which 
 the wild man made known his desires. She 
 herself, isolated as she was, and with the further 
 disadvantage of having his back turned towards 
 her, could clearly make out that he was asking 
 for the Holy-Ved, and demanding what com- 
 pensation the white man wanted to induce him 
 to part with a treasure so precious. 
 
 Joe Smith, however, shook his head as though 
 in utter perplexity, until, losing patience, or 
 perhaps thinking it time to try a fresh means of 
 communication, the man disappeared into the 
 darkness, to emerge again a minute later with 
 a companion more fluent of speech, or at least 
 with a readier method of making himself under- 
 stood. 
 
 But still the ferryman was dense as ever, 
 though this time he replied to them volubly, 
 asking what it was they wanted so badly, and 
 stating how delighted he should be to meet their 
 wishes if it lay in his power to do so. 
 
 This kind of thing seemed to puzzle them a 
 great deal, and they retreated again to bring up
 
 THE BARTER 195 
 
 a third, though with precisely the same result. 
 The night was waning, no bargain had been 
 struck, and it seemed impossible to do anything, 
 when Joe Smith said suddenly, " Bring Wimala 
 to me, she will understand my speech, and can 
 also interpret your desires to me." 
 
 This, delivered partly in the dialect of the 
 Village Veddahs, partly in English, with plenty 
 of gesticulation thrown in, produced an instant 
 effect, the low whistling recommenced, there was 
 a snapping of twigs as a way was forced through 
 the undergrowth, then later came the sounds of 
 struggle and resistance, followed by the unmis- 
 takable noise of blows, as though Wimala were 
 proving refractory, and needed some castigation 
 to compel her to the front. All this Cicely 
 heard with ears strained to the utmost, though 
 the ferryman stood in unmoved meditation by 
 the stone. 
 
 Suddenly a child's sharp cry broke on the 
 night silence, and, forgetful of consequences, she 
 sprang to her feet ; but with three strides the 
 ferrryman stood beside her. 
 
 " Hush, hush ! everything depends on your 
 patience now," he whispered sternly, then 
 hastened to take up his old position once more. 
 
 She noticed how carefully he had refrained
 
 196 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 from looking at her when he spoke, and she 
 sank on to the ground again with a wild prayer 
 that her impetuosity might not have spoiled the 
 plans of the quiet man yonder. That the cry 
 had come from little Dick there could be not the 
 faintest doubt, the old petulance that she knew 
 so well, and the shortened name of " Wim, Wim," 
 it had all been so distinct and clear, that great 
 tears of thankfulness began to roll down her 
 cheeks at this certainty of his having escaped a 
 dreadful death among the crocodiles. 
 
 Two men appeared in the moonlight now, 
 dragging a shrinking female figure between them. 
 And stripped of her snowy draperies and the 
 gay turbans in which she had been wont to deck 
 herself at Karrapolla, Cicely had some difficulty 
 in recognising Wimala in the miserable figure, 
 swathed round with a mat of native manufacture, 
 and with bare arms and legs. 
 
 And now the ferryman, roused to an active 
 anger, and a stern indignation, made himself 
 understood, not only to Wimala, but to the two 
 men who held her. He denounced her in good 
 all-round terms for her treachery, in first stealing 
 little Dick's heart and then abducting his body. 
 He drew no pictures of the harrowing suspense 
 and terrible grief of the lost child's parents,
 
 THE BARTER 197 
 
 knowing well how her cruel, revengeful nature 
 would have gloated over the details of such 
 suffering ; but with true artistic touches, went 
 on to paint a fancy picture of how the red-coated 
 British soldiers were arming themselves to come 
 and utterly destroy the tribe of the Rock 
 Veddahs, and how even the Holy-Ved had 
 voluntarily taken sides with the basely defrauded 
 white people. 
 
 Like most other scoundrels, small and great, 
 Wimala was an arrant coward, and at this 
 prospect of pains and penalties fell on the 
 ground shrieking for mercy. 
 
 Now indeed was confusion, and disquiet among 
 these only half-humanised sons of the soil, many 
 more crowded out into the circle of moonlight, 
 to growl and grunt and gesticulate, but above 
 the grumble of their inarticulate mutterings the 
 voice of the ferryman rang out clear and stern, 
 " Bring the child, the little white child, and put 
 him on the stone of barter, otherwise my peaceful 
 errand is at an end, and I depart straightway, 
 taking back with me that symbol of greatness 
 and might, the Holy-Ved." 
 
 It was characteristic of the downtrodden, 
 spiritless nature of these wild people that no one 
 resented these words of the ferryman's, or even
 
 198 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 expressed any dissent or dislike to his denuncia- 
 tions ; yet they were twenty to one, and might, 
 had they so chosen, have possessed themselves of 
 the goods laid forth for barter without further 
 ado. 
 
 Instead of this they cowered in meek dejection 
 all around, while one, who appeared to be chief 
 or elder of the tribe, attempted an elaborate 
 explanation of how when they had found it 
 necessary to recall Wimala, she had brought 
 with her a small white child, whom she said had 
 been deserted of its kin, and had no one in the 
 wide world to care for it but herself, therefore 
 they had permitted it to remain amongst them, 
 though so fierce was their poverty that even the 
 burden of one more mouth to feed was a very 
 serious thing to undertake. 
 
 It took the united efforts of ten men to get 
 this explanation reeled off, and even then a 
 large amount of guess-work was necessary in 
 order to get within reasonable distance of their 
 meaning. 
 
 " Bring the child ! " was all Joe Smith con 
 descended to say in reply to this ; and again the 
 woodland resounded with the soft, mysterious 
 whistling, as two men started to obey the 
 command.
 
 The Barter. CICELY FROME, p. 199.
 
 THE BARTER 199 
 
 Presently there came the little petulant cry 
 again, as of a child roused from slumber, and a 
 
 o ' 
 
 peevish call of " Wim, Wim," as Dick, sleepy and 
 cross, was borne through the jungle in the arms 
 of a strange nurse. Cicely's heart was beating 
 almost to suffocation now, as she heard the foot- 
 steps coming nearer. 
 
 "Cicely, come here," said the ferryman 
 quietly ; and getting up from her low seat she 
 stumbled across the tangled weeds and creepers, 
 to stand by his side. 
 
 Her appearance had all the effect of an appari- 
 tion, and her cloak slipping partly from her 
 shoulders, she stood a slim erect figure in her 
 white jacket and Mrs. Colman's riding-skirt, her 
 face haggard and worn from all she had gone 
 through, and her hair streaming wildly down her 
 back. 
 
 " Take that thing in your hands, and pass it 
 to whoever gives Dick to you," the ferryman said 
 briefly ; and catching up the green rock-crystal, 
 she held it and waited for the child. 
 
 Wimala all this time was tearing her hair and 
 shrieking with rage and despair, not even silenced 
 when one of the men gave her an admonitory 
 kick with his foot. 
 
 " Wim, Wim ! Dick wants Wim ! " cried the
 
 200 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 child, when he was brought forward into the 
 moonlight. 
 
 With a frantic leap the ayah was on her feet, 
 and would have seized the child but for the 
 ferryman, who promptly put out his foot and 
 tripped her up. 
 
 " Now, Cicely," he said, in a warning tone ; 
 and she, quick to understand him, held out the 
 hideous green face with its lurid, gleaming eyes, 
 and in return gathered into her trembling grasp 
 little Dick. He was whole, and sound at any- 
 rate, though painfully thin, and so dirty that 
 she could barely suppress a feeling of disgust 
 when she touched him. 
 
 Joe Smith blew a whistle, summoning the boat, 
 at the sound of which every man of the Veddahs 
 fell instantly prostrate on the ground, desiring 
 to be hidden from view of the rowers, and lack- 
 ing time to gain the effectual shelter of the dark 
 jungle. 
 
 Wimala alone evinced no such desire of secrecy, 
 but still persisted in her frantic efforts to regain 
 possession of her nursling, from which she was 
 forcibly withheld by the ferryman. 
 
 " Get into the boat, and hold the boy firmly, 
 for we are not out of the wood yet," he said to 
 Cicely, as the little keel grated against the bank,
 
 THE BARTER 201 
 
 and the two native rowers, seizing the drooping 
 tendrils of the waterside creepers, held the craft 
 steadily in position. 
 
 Clutching Dick tightly in her arms, and wind- 
 ing her cloak firmly about him, she made the 
 best of her way over the tangle of climbers and 
 creepers that encumbered the few remaining steps 
 to the river ; meanwhile Joe Smith was by sheer 
 force holding down the woman, who was fighting 
 with the strength and ferocity of a jungle cat, she 
 with the power of passion, he a man dying by 
 inches. 
 
 " Make haste, Cicely !" he called sharply, feeling 
 his ability to hold the wild creature growing 
 momentarily less. 
 
 She reached the boat, and was helped aboard 
 by one of the men, stumbling awkwardly as she 
 took her place, thereby hurting little Dick and 
 causing him to cry out. 
 
 At the sound of his note of protest, Wimala 
 gave a sudden violent twist, and, flinging Joe 
 Smith to the ground, rushed down on the boat 
 with the same fierce desire to reclaim her treasure 
 that a tigress might display who saw her cubs 
 being carried off before her eyes. 
 
 Cicely shrieked with dismay, and with an in- 
 stinct of defence wrapped the cloak closely over
 
 202 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 the head and ears of the child, bending over him 
 so that Wimala could not snatch him from her. 
 
 But Joe Smith was on his feet again, and now 
 with that rage in his heart which any moderately 
 brave man would feel at being ignominiously 
 flung by a woman. He was just in time to pre- 
 vent Wimala flinging herself upon Cicely in the 
 boat, and catching her round the waist he tossed 
 her into a bed of creepers, himself springing into 
 the boat and pushing off from the bank. 
 
 Wimala was not subdued yet, however, and 
 rising from the smother of jungle- vines, where 
 she had been thrown, she jumped into the water 
 and swam after the boat. 
 
 The two natives, stolid and hard to move in a 
 usual way, were now in lively terror, thinking 
 she must be a witch. This same fear lent strength 
 to their arms, and the boat bounded along, though 
 being against current the pace did not tell so 
 much. 
 
 Wimala was an expert swimmer, and despite 
 the efforts of the two Singhalese gained steadily 
 on them. 
 
 "Cicely," said the ferryman, bending over 
 where she sat a huddled heap with the child in 
 her cloak, " I shall have to shoot that woman, 
 I must shoot her in the arm sufficient to wound
 
 THE BARTER 203 
 
 her and stop her from following, or she will 
 swamp the boat and drown us all." 
 
 " Is there no other way ? " she panted, with a 
 shiver of repulsion at being compelled to sit by 
 and see a woman shot before her eyes. 
 
 " I fear not. Ah, ah, but there is ; quick, turn 
 your face away, child, it is no sight for you ! " 
 
 Instinctively obedient, she turned her head 
 away, carrying with her a picture of a fierce wild 
 face and gleaming, awful eyes. 
 
 Then suddenly a wild shriek of agony cut the 
 air, there was a chuckle of relief and satisfaction 
 from the two natives, while Joe Smith said in 
 an awed tone, " God's judgments are swift and 
 sure." 
 
 Cicely shook as though from an ague fit ; she 
 understood now that Wimala had fallen victim 
 to a hungry crocodile, but she did not turn her 
 head, only crouched the lower over Dick, who, 
 lulled by the warmth of the cloak, had fallen 
 asleep in her arms. 
 
 Presently the ferryman touched her on the 
 shoulder, " Look up, child, look up," he said, " for 
 see, the dawn has come."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 COMMON DANGEKS 
 
 T was dawn certainly, but such a dawn ! 
 Huge cloud masses obscured the rays 
 of the rising sun, and a suffocating 
 heat that was almost sulphurous in its 
 oppressiveness betokened an atmosphere highly 
 electric, with a promise of storms later on. 
 
 Joe Smith's face was ghastly in the morning 
 light, while ever and anon he pressed a red cotton 
 handkerchief to his lips. 
 
 "Is it hsemorrhage ? " Cicely asked, with a 
 fluttering compassion in her heart for this big 
 silent man who suffered so much and said so 
 little. 
 
 He nodded, with a patient acquiescence in the 
 inevitable, and turned his head away. 
 
 It was slow work rowing up to Harraganga, 
 for the current was unusually strong, and the 
 two native rowers seemed to feel the heat of the
 
 COMMON DANGERS 205 
 
 morning to a serious degree, labouring at their oars 
 with every appearance of extreme exhaustion. 
 
 Little Dick lay snugly asleep in Cicely's lap, 
 sobbing in his slumber sometimes, as if some 
 hidden consciousness had whispered to him of 
 Wimala's fate. 
 
 Frau Grant was standing on the landing-stage 
 when they reached the village, and appeared 
 hugely relieved at the sight of Cicely. 
 
 " Such a night I have had, not a wink of sleep 
 because of you," she said reproachfully, shaking 
 her head from side to side with an attempt to 
 look stern, which was rather a failure after all. 
 
 " Frau, I was quite right in going, and I have 
 Dick here in my arms," Cicely cried joyfully, 
 drawing the cloak aside to show the face of the 
 sleeping boy. 
 
 " Ach, ach, but the dirt of the creature ! " cried 
 the Frau, drawing back with an expression of 
 disgust. 
 
 "Yes, I know, and your cloak will be all 
 spoiled, but we will give you another," the girl 
 exclaimed gleefully, as she followed Frau Grant 
 into the little house where breakfast was 
 waiting. 
 
 Joe Smith did not accompany them, he had to 
 despatch another boat and two rowers down
 
 206 CICELY FROME 
 
 stream to the Veddah-stone to bring off the 
 payment for the goods he had taken down, and 
 which, in their haste to get clear away with the 
 child, they had left behind them. 
 
 Cicely was wholly absorbed with her recovered 
 treasure, begging warm water of the surly 
 Singhalese house-girl, in which to wash away the 
 dirt that already encrusted him like an outer skin, 
 and wrapping him in two clean towels, other 
 juvenile garments not being obtainable in 
 Harraganga, where all the children ran about in 
 a state of nature, and were not encumbered with 
 the unnecessary luxury of clothes, until they grew 
 to be nine or ten years of age. 
 
 During these toilet performances Frau Grant 
 entered the room, and stood silently watching 
 Cicely's active attempts at restoring Dick to a 
 civilised condition. 
 
 " And you will lend me the towels to carry 
 the dear child home in, won't you ? " asked Cicely, 
 bursting into a happy laugh as she surveyed the 
 odd little figure swathed in towels, holding him 
 at arm's length to get the full effect of it all, 
 then hugging him again to her breast with a 
 hysterical burst of thankfulness for his rescue. 
 
 " Don't laugh," said the woman, shaking her 
 head sourly.
 
 COMMON DANGERS 207 
 
 " I can't help it. Just think what we have all 
 endured since he has been lost, the sweet darling, 
 and imagine the relief to have him again safe 
 and unharmed ! " and, nearer crying than laughing 
 now, Cicely hugged her small nephew to such an 
 extent that he set up a whimper of protest, which 
 he further emphasised by scratching her face. 
 
 " There's news come from Karrapolla since you 
 went down river last night," said the Frau, more 
 sourly than before, which acidity was mainly 
 used as a cloak to her grief, she being a kindly 
 soul with a sympathetic heart. 
 
 " News ? Ah, the doctor came home, I 
 suppose ? " Cicely looked up now, and the old 
 woman braced herself for her task. 
 
 " No, he didn't come ; things at your brother's 
 was too bad for him to leave," she answered, 
 measuring off her words like drops from a phial, 
 so many to a dose. 
 
 " How bad ? Is Julie worse ? " cried the girl, 
 a cold shiver of dread going through her as she 
 thought of the silent sufferer whose awakening 
 had been so dreaded by them all. 
 
 " My dear, she has gone, and they don't reckon 
 as your brother can last over to-day." 
 
 " Dead ! Julie dead ? " and Cicely rose to her 
 feet in unbelieving dismay.
 
 2o8 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 " Yes, my dear, about sundown last night, so I 
 should say ; there was a man come over the ferry 
 after the moon rose, and he told us." 
 
 Cicely sat down again, for the solid earth was 
 reeling, and the chairs and table appeared to be 
 having a dance on their own account, and were 
 waltzing all around her in a most incompre- 
 hensible manner. Only for a minute though, 
 and then she had rallied her energies. If Julie 
 was dead there would be time for grief later on. 
 Perhaps if she hurried with little Dick she might 
 be in time to save Bernard's life, or at least to 
 gladden his eyes in dying with a sight of his 
 son. 
 
 "Joe Smith, where is he?" she asked, her 
 voice so calm that Frau Grant thought her dazed, 
 and in danger of brain-paralysis. 
 
 " Dear heart, don't take it like that, cry, dear 
 child, cry, here's my bosom to lean upon ! " 
 exclaimed the worthy woman, advancing upon 
 Cicely in order to fold her in a loving embrace. 
 
 But the girl repelled her fiercely, " Peace, Frau, 
 it is no time for grief yet, or tears either. I must 
 away with the child with all haste to Karrapolla ; 
 who knows but that Bernard may be saved if he 
 sees little Dick ? " 
 
 There was a sound of trampling feet outside,
 
 COMMON DANGERS 209 
 
 and, still holding Dick in her arms, she ran 
 out, to find that Joe Smith was there with the 
 mules. 
 
 " I've just heard, and I thought you would 
 like to be going on at once," he said briefly, 
 taking Dick from her whilst she mounted. 
 
 Cicely nodded her thanks, and when she was 
 safely in her saddle reached out her arms for the 
 child. 
 
 " Leave him to me, I'm more used to riding 
 with a weight than you are, and we must move 
 if we're to keep in front of the storm," the ferry- 
 man said, with a motion of his head towards the 
 lowering east, as he flung himself across the mule 
 still holding the child. 
 
 Dick was delighted, drumming with his small 
 fists on the neck of the mule, and shouting, " Gee 
 whoa, gee whoa," as they rode away. Then 
 memory began to stir faintly in the baby mind, 
 and to associate this kind of exercise with the 
 father from whom he had been stolen ; first he 
 looked intently at the mule, regarding the up- 
 standing ears of the animal with a curious fixity 
 of gaze, from this he turned to the face of the 
 man who was holding him, and after a minute's 
 intent survey cooed out in sweetest baby fashion, 
 " Dadda, dadda ; Dick's dadda ! " 
 14
 
 2 1 o CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 The ferryman gathered him a little closer, and 
 stooping his head kissed the soft little face up- 
 turned to his. Who shall say what thoughts 
 were stirring his heart then, or how the child's 
 simple confidence was compensating him for 
 years of cold isolation from all he held most dear. 
 
 But the storm was pursuing them, a pall-like 
 gloom was hiding the face of the earth, thunder 
 crashes were frequent, while the lightning made 
 a continual play of fitful flickering flame. 
 
 " We must go faster," shouted the man, kicking 
 the sides of his mule to urge it to a greater 
 speed. 
 
 On, on they galloped, but the storm came 
 swiftly after, and as they tore down the hill to 
 the ferry, the rain struck them with a fierce dash 
 that made little Dick shriek out with fright and 
 pain. 
 
 To creep to shelter in the ferryman's hut was 
 a blessed relief, but there could be no staying 
 there for Cicely, whose only hope lay in action 
 that should be swift and decisive. 
 
 " How soon can we cross ? " she asked wistfully, 
 looking from Joe Smith to Noel Blackson, who, 
 with the boy Kuda, were all sheltering from the 
 storm. 
 
 " There's a lull, now," said Noel slowly, as the
 
 COMMON DANGERS 2 1 1 
 
 dashing of the rain grew fainter and the thunder 
 crashes less frequent. 
 
 " It is only a lull, there's another storm be- 
 hind," said Joe Smith, pointing to a big black 
 cloud following close on the heels of the one that 
 was even now breaking above them. 
 
 " Would there be time before it comes ? " 
 pleaded Cicely, with a dreadful terror at her 
 heart lest the next downpour should produce a 
 freshet and render the river unferryable for 
 perhaps a week to come. 
 
 The same thought was in the minds of the 
 men, as they looked into each other's faces 
 again. 
 
 " Shall we try ? " asked Noel, thinking of the 
 many good turns Bernard Alderson had done 
 him in past days, and not unwilling to brave 
 danger for the sake of Cicely either, for whom 
 he had a very profound admiration. 
 
 " Kuda, the boat ! " said the ferryman sharply > 
 and, opening the door, the boy sped down to the 
 shore to slip off the mooring rope. 
 
 " The beasts must go, and I'll ride with Miss 
 Frome to Karrapolla, you ain't fit," decided Noel 
 Blackson judicially. 
 
 But Joe Smith paid no heed to him, perhaps 
 he did not hear, being just then binding little:
 
 2 1 2 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 Dick to Cicely, so that she might have her hands 
 free and yet keep the boy safe as well. 
 
 " God bless you, child, and keep you always," 
 he was muttering, as he swathed the cloak round 
 the two like a swaddling band. 
 
 She thought he was talking to Dick, and 
 looked up to him with grateful eyes. "We 
 shall never, never forget how you have given us 
 back our boy. If Julie had lived, how she 
 would have blessed you ! " 
 
 " I shan't see you again maybe," he interrupted 
 hastily, " and when I'm dead you'll know it all," 
 nodding his head in the direction of the padlocked 
 box that stood in the corner. 
 
 Noel's voice was heard at this minute shouting 
 to them to hurry, as the storm was coming up 
 so fast. 
 
 " It's now or next week, mate," he said, as Joe 
 Smith half lifted Cicely and her burden into the 
 boat. 
 
 Kuda was already in his place, and without 
 further delay they pushed out into the stream. 
 Already the second storm was upon them, the 
 wind was shrieking with a doleful wail, and the 
 thunder crashes reverberated with a dull roar 
 from the rocks around. 
 
 " No time to drift down stream, we must
 
 COMMON DANGERS 2 1 3 
 
 make straight across and trust in God ! " shouted 
 Joe Smith to his helper, who nodded in reply, 
 and bent himself with all his might to his heavy 
 task. 
 
 The moments seemed endless to Cicely, as with 
 both hands clutching the sides of the boat she 
 watched the rotary current of the death-hole, 
 which they were slowly approaching. 
 
 They were opposite to it now, a moment more 
 and it was past. When lo ! a crash of thunder 
 directly over their heads, a blinding flash of 
 lightning that seemed to stupefy Kuda, who was 
 steering, and then the boat was swept backwards 
 again, and being caught in the outer edge of 
 the current was swung round with awful force 
 against the jagged rocks of the death-hole. 
 
 With one swift slash of his big knife Joe 
 Smith cut the ropes and freed the mules, leaving 
 them to struggle to land if they could get there, 
 and then the fight for life began. 
 
 They might win through yet if only the boat 
 held together, for both men were practised 
 oarsmen, and were working now with the 
 strength of desperation. Round and round 
 whirled the current, swinging the boat with it, 
 but the exertions of the men were beginning to 
 tell, and they were forcing their way inch by
 
 2 1 4 CICEL Y F OME 
 
 inch, when bang went the boat against a hidden 
 rock, and a moment later they were struggling in 
 the water. 
 
 Cicely, burdened as she was with little Dick, 
 had no choice but to sink, but as she slid down 
 into the dark, cold depths, she heard a voice 
 crying above the rush and roar of the water 
 
 "Cicely, Cicely, do not fear, your father is 
 here, and he will save you." 
 
 " It must be death," she thought to herself, as 
 she slid down, down, down, clutching little Dick 
 the closer as she went. 
 
 It was all confusion after that, thunderous 
 noises everywhere, the breath was choked out of 
 her, water filled her ears and nose and mouth, 
 and with one feeble struggle for room to breathe, 
 consciousness went out, and she knew no more.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE AWAKENING 
 
 HE is coming round at last ! " ex- 
 claimed a voice, and Cicely opened 
 her eyes languidly to see who was 
 talking. 
 
 Several faces were bending over her, but at 
 first, and by reason of her weakness, she could 
 
 recognise none. 
 
 " Perhaps I am dead," she said to herself, and 
 shivered as she remembered her plunge into the 
 death-hole. 
 
 " Another blanket here, quick," said the voice 
 in imperative tones, and something warm and 
 soft was tucked about her. 
 
 " I'm not dead, that's certain," she murmured, 
 and then with a faint stirring of curiosity to 
 know how her rescue had been accomplished 
 she opened her eyes again. 
 
 " Where am I ? " she asked, then recollection
 
 2 1 6 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 returning with leaps and bounds, she tried to 
 struggle to a sitting posture, crying out sharply, 
 " Oh, where is Dick ? was he not saved too ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes, Dick is quite safe," a voice was 
 saying in her ears, that same voice which had 
 spoken before, while a firm hand pressed her 
 back on to her pillow and held her there. 
 
 She was so strangely weak and giddy, so 
 utterly powerless to resist, that she just did as 
 she was ordered, and, after a moment or two 
 spent in trying to recall her scattered senses, 
 dropped into a light slumber. From this she 
 was aroused presently by a murmur of voices 
 around her, and one louder than the rest ex- 
 claiming, "Well, really now, if it isn't as in- 
 teresting as a story-book ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Colman ? " Cicely's eyes came open with 
 a jerk this time. 
 
 " Yes, my dear Miss Frome, I'm here," and a 
 vigorous hand patted the coverings lying about 
 her shoulders. 
 
 " How did you get here, and where am I ? " 
 demanded Cicely. 
 
 " The doctor sent Massoo with a message that 
 I was to come at once, I wasn't even to stop to 
 take my apron off; and I didn't, see," and Mrs. 
 Colman laughed nervously, as she held out for
 
 THE AWAKENING 217 
 
 inspection a rather ragged and very dirty 
 apron. 
 
 " Massoo ? " Cicely was frowning in -her 
 endeavour to recall the name. 
 
 " Yes, don't you remember ? the brown hut in 
 the tamarind-grove, half a mile from the ferry, 
 that is where you are," rejoined the little woman 
 soothingly, yet evidently nervous still. 
 
 " Where is Dick ? " was Cicely's next query. 
 
 "Here he is," said the voice she had first 
 heard on recovering her senses, and which she 
 now recognised as belonging to the doctor. He 
 came forward as he spoke, holding the child in 
 his arms wrapped in a blanket. 
 
 "He is very pale," said Cicely, shocked at the 
 weary wanness of the poor little fellow's face, as 
 it peeped out from the dingy blanket. 
 
 " So are you. People don't as a rule look 
 very robust and rosy, when they have been 
 within an ace of drowning. But look here, Miss 
 Frome, Mrs. Colman can take care of you for 
 a while, and I want to carry this boy off to 
 Karrapolla at once ; he'll be of more use there 
 than a whole chemist's shop full of drugs." 
 
 " Dr. Durrant, when did Julie die ? " asked 
 Cicely, beginning to cry in spite of herself, at 
 the thought of her lively sister-in-law lying cold
 
 2 1 8 CICEL Y FR OME 
 
 and stiff, and all unwitting that her boy had 
 come home to her again. 
 
 " Mrs. Alderson is not dead, she is recovering," 
 he said slowly, dropping out the words one by 
 one in deliberate fashion, so that she might 
 understand him. 
 
 " Was it Bernard then ? " and her heart re- 
 fused to be relieved by the removal of the first 
 burden, fearing lest another and heavier might 
 be impending. 
 
 " No ; he is very ill though, and I was on my 
 way to Harraganga for fresh remedies, arriving 
 here in time to help you back to life again. 
 It is lucky you came across when you did, for 
 the river won't be ferryable for three days at 
 least, and until it is I am homeless." 
 
 " And you won't be able to get the remedies ? " 
 asked Cicely in an anxious tone. 
 
 " I shan't need them, as I fancy Master Dick 
 will be remedy sufficient himself, at anyrate 1 
 am going to try. Now you lie still and rest, 
 and don't venture to move until I return," he 
 said in a peremptory fashion, going off a moment 
 or two later bearing Dick in his arms, that 
 young gentleman showing no dislike to his 
 stranger nurse. 
 
 Massoo's wife, and some two or three dark-
 
 THE AWAKENING 219 
 
 skinned babies were present in the low hut, 
 which was little better or cleaner than an 
 English cattle-shed. And Mrs. Colman, having 
 looked about in vain for a suitable something 
 that might be utilised as a chair, came at length 
 and crouched down by Cicely. 
 
 " How was it I wasn't drowned, and Dick too ? 
 The boat was smashed in at one side, I remember, 
 and we were all flung into the water," she said, 
 turning a little so that she might scan Mrs. 
 Colman's face. 
 
 The little woman grew restless under the 
 scrutiny, and shifted uneasily, as she replied, " I 
 only know just the bare facts, of course, but 
 Massoo said that the ferryman dived into the 
 death-hole and brought you out you and the 
 child." 
 
 " Ah, it was his voice I heard telling me not 
 to fear, for he would save me ; I thought it was 
 my father," she said, a little sob catching at her 
 throat. 
 
 Mrs. Colman made no reply, only edged 
 farther away, and turned her head as though to 
 look through the little window, to where the 
 tamarind trees were dripping with the still 
 falling rain. 
 
 But Cicely was thinking of that strange, silent
 
 2 20 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 man who had done so much towards the recovery 
 
 if 
 
 of Dick, and then had saved her life and his from 
 that awful pool of circling waters. What a 
 strange sad career his had been, hiding these 
 many years from justice, yet filling his days 
 with the bravest deeds that mortal man could 
 do. He had known her father too, and by his 
 own confession had stood by the side of Captain 
 Frome, when that ill-fated Eastern Star had 
 foundered. Who was he then ? 
 
 Cicely remembered the words she had heard, 
 when she was sinking into those black engulfing 
 waters, " Father is here, he will save you ! " 
 
 Was he could he be Captain Frome, her own 
 father ? 
 
 She started up in profound agitation, as 
 a hundred things lent confirmation to the 
 thought. 
 
 " My dear, the doctor said that you must lie 
 still, he is so afraid of fever," urged Mrs. Colman, 
 frightened at the wild excitement of Cicely's 
 appearance. 
 
 " Am I going mad, do you think ? " she asked, 
 pressing her hands against the sides of her head, 
 and trying to think coherently. 
 
 " You will do, if you don't lie down," retorted 
 Mrs. Colman, gently thrusting her back on to
 
 THE A WAKENING 2 2 1 
 
 her pillow, and drawing the blankets well up 
 round her throat again. 
 
 " I want you to tell me" began Cicely, but 
 Mrs. Colman cut her short. 
 
 " I shan't tell you anything, so it ain't the 
 least use in the world to ask me. The doctor's 
 orders were for you to be left perfectly quiet, 
 and I'm not going to break them for you or 
 anyone else." 
 
 This was evident enough, and Cicely lay and 
 thrashed the question out in her head until, 
 weakness prevailing, she fell asleep.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 HOW THE STRUGGLE ENDED 
 
 T so happened that when they were all 
 flung into the water the boat was 
 not overturned, and Kuda, who 
 could swim like a water-rat, was 
 quickly back in the boat again, and flinging a 
 rope with great dexterity over an upstanding 
 rock, brought it to a perilous anchorage just on 
 the outer edge of the death-hole. Then Noel 
 Blackson was swept round, fighting, struggling 
 against the current which was dragging him 
 down. 
 
 " Hold hard, massa ! " shouted the boy, 
 leaning over at the risk of another ducking, and 
 clutching Noel with all his might. The help, 
 small as it was, proved effectual, and hanging for 
 one brief moment on the side of the boat just 
 to recover his breath, the man scrambled in 
 beside the boy, and began to look for the others.
 
 HOW THE STRUGGLE ENDED 223 
 
 " There, there ! " shrieked the boy, " he's got 
 her, he's got 'em both," as Joe Smith rose to the 
 surface of the hissing, boiling waters of the 
 death-hole, one hand tightly clutching the cloak 
 which bound Cicely and Dick together, and 
 with the other striking out boldly to reach the 
 boat. 
 
 But this had been badly damaged by its crash 
 against the rocks, and it was as much as Kuda 
 could do to keep it baled out and in floating 
 condition ; whilst the swirling of the waters 
 were bumping it continually against the rock of 
 anchorage and threatening to wreck it entirely. 
 
 The oars, save one, were gone too, but Noel 
 stretched this out for the ferryman to grasp. 
 
 " She'll never hold us all, and keep above 
 water," muttered the man, doing his best never- 
 theless to aid Joe Smith in getting his burden 
 safely on board. 
 
 The ferryman was nearly exhausted, and 
 when, by the united exertions of Noel and Kuda, 
 Cicely and the child had been lifted into the 
 questionable safety of the damaged boat, he was 
 almost slipping back to the death from whence he 
 had just rescued the others. 
 
 But Kuda had clutched him, and, with doleful 
 shrieks and yells, was doing his best to drag
 
 224 CICEL Y FR OME 
 
 him on board, and, Noel also helping, he was 
 hauled in, falling like a log beside the other two, 
 who were quite unconscious, and without a sign 
 of life. 
 
 " We'll never get to land ! " panted Noel, 
 looking on this as only respite and not salvation, 
 for they were in the current still, if only on its 
 outer edge, and the moment they cast off from 
 their perilous anchorage to the rock were likely 
 to be swallowed up by the greedy, voracious 
 destruction of raging water and rugged rocks. 
 
 " There's a boat, another boat ! " yelled Kuda, 
 who was baling again with all his might, intent 
 on saving himself and the others if such a thing 
 were possible. 
 
 Noel looked round, and lo ! there was another 
 boat approaching, though by reason of the down- 
 pour it was only dimly visible. " They'll never 
 save us, they'll be sucked in and drowned," he 
 cried out, half maddened to think that yet more 
 lives must be thrown away in the ineffectual 
 attempt at rescuing their own. 
 
 " No, no ! " yelled Kuda, whose vision was of 
 the keenest, " they're not coming, they're going 
 to throw; look out !" ducking his own head sharply 
 to avoid the rope, which even now was whizzing 
 past his head.
 
 HOW THE STRUGGLE ENDED 225 
 
 To catch it and fasten it securely to the boat 
 was the work of a minute, and then, whilst Noel 
 cut them adrift from their friendly rock, and 
 prepared to assist in rowing as best he could 
 with one oar, Kuda baled with all his might in 
 order that they might not be swamped. 
 
 They held their breath almost whilst their 
 rescuers towed them clear of the current, for if 
 the rope had given way, or had come unfastened, 
 their destruction must have been swift and 
 inevitable. 
 
 No accident happened, however, and slowly 
 but surely they were dragged beyond the 
 influence of the whirlpool, and towards the bank 
 of the river. 
 
 But despite the efforts of Kuda, the water in 
 the boat was gaining fast, and the sides were 
 sinking nearer to the level of the river. 
 
 " Stop rowing, and help me bale ! " yelled 
 Kuda ; " quick, quick ! " 
 
 Noel, who seemed dazed with the length and 
 
 o 
 
 fierceness of the struggle, shipped his oar and 
 did as he was bidden, though there was nothino- 
 
 ' O O 
 
 but his tarpaulin hat for him to bale with, and 
 even that was leaky in the crown. 
 
 At last what a long, long time it seemed 
 they reached the bank, and were helped on 
 15
 
 2 2 6 CICEL Y FRO ME 
 
 shore by the friendly hands of their rescuers, who 
 then turned to lift out the unconscious forms of 
 the three lying in the water at the bottom of 
 the boat. 
 
 " Why, doctor, is it you ? " exclaimed Noel, 
 recovering somewhat from his dazed condition 
 now that solid ground was under his feet. 
 
 " Yes ; and lucky for you that I came along 
 just then, and had the good fortune to find 
 Massoo here waiting to cross," replied the 
 doctor, who was busy disentangling the cloak 
 that was wrapped round Cicely. 
 
 " What in the world is this ! not Alderson's 
 boy, surely ? " he cried out in great amazement, 
 as little Dick's face came into view from under 
 the cloak. 
 
 " Yes, it's the little chap right enough ; Joe 
 and the gal there fetched him up river last 
 night. But give an eye here, doctor, I'm afraid 
 poor Joe is in a bad way." 
 
 The doctor glanced round. He was anxious 
 about Cicely and the child, but he left them after 
 that first casual look, and came to stoop over the 
 ferryman. 
 
 The thin face was peaceful and quiet, and the 
 eyes were closed. There was a trickle of red at 
 the corner of his mouth, and with a sigh and a
 
 HOW THE STRUGGLE ENDED 227 
 
 shake of his head the doctor went back to Cicely 
 again. 
 
 " He's dead, poor fellow, and the world's the 
 loser by a brave man gone to his reward," he 
 said in a reverent tone. 
 
 Kuda flung himself down by the body with 
 sobs and cries, but the doctor bestirred himself 
 to get Cicely to a place of shelter. 
 
 " Your house is the nearest, Massoo ; we must 
 carry her there. Bring the child, will you, and 
 let's be moving," he said, turning to the native 
 who had assisted in the work of rescue. 
 
 But the half mile was a long one, and Cicely 
 was a dead weight in her unconscious condition, 
 so that the doctor, vigorous and muscular though 
 he was, had to take many a resting spell before 
 he reached the shelter of Massoo's house. 
 
 Even then it was some time before she could 
 be brought back to life, and he had despatched 
 Massoo for Mrs. Colman as being the nearest 
 available white woman, and one, moreover, whom 
 his patient knew and liked. 
 
 Dick came to consciousness much quicker than 
 his aunt, and was snugly sleeping in a dirty 
 blanket, before a blazing fire, when Cicely roused 
 to ask for him. 
 
 And all this time the doctor was ill at ease,
 
 2 2 8 CICEL Y F OME 
 
 and chafing with a desire to be off to Karrapolla, 
 with the child that had so miraculously turned 
 up at the moment when he was most needed. 
 
 About the dead man on the river bank he 
 troubled not at all, it was only the living that had 
 any interest for him, the living, suffering ones, 
 who might be coaxed back to health again, if only 
 the right means for their restoration were forth- 
 coming. 
 
 Upon Mrs. Colman's arrival he rolled Dick yet 
 tighter in the dingy blanket, and then wrapping 
 him round with his own mackintosh, departed 
 for Karrapolla. 
 
 He had not got clear of the tamarind grove, 
 however, when he saw two figures of very unequal 
 height toiling along, with a heavy burden between 
 them. 
 
 It was Noel Blackson and Kuda, and they 
 were bringing Joe Smith's dead body to the house 
 of Massoo. 
 
 " You mustn't carry it there, not until Miss 
 Frome can be moved, at least," the doctor ex- 
 claimed impatiently, riding up to them. 
 
 " There's the shed where Massoo keeps his tools, 
 we can lay him there," said Noel. 
 
 " Very well ; only mind, don't let her get wind 
 of what has happened, she's too excitable already,"
 
 HOW THE STRUGGLE ENDED 229 
 
 retorted the doctor, riding away with a frown on 
 his face. 
 
 He did not like leaving Cicely exposed to the 
 chances of tragic details. But duty and necessity 
 alike called him to Karrapolla with all speed, and 
 he had no choice but to obey.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE PADLOCKED BOX 
 
 WEEK had passed away, and Cicely 
 was back at Karrapolla. She was 
 somewhat of an invalid still, and 
 with many traces of her recent ex- 
 periences still hanging about her, although she 
 resolutely disclaimed the idea of weakness, and 
 openly scoffed at the doctor for wanting her to 
 submit to medical surveillance. 
 
 Bernard and Julie were on the high road to 
 recovery, though in the case of the latter it was 
 likely to be a long time before full health and 
 strength was arrived at, so severe had been the 
 suffering through which she had passed. Little 
 Dick had proved a very effectual tonic in the 
 critical part of his father's illness, and the two in- 
 valids seemed to need no greater good than to 
 watch him as he played, or to hear his baby 
 laughter echoing through the home that had 
 missed him so sorely. 
 
 230
 
 The Convalescents. CICELY FROME, p. 230.
 
 THE PADLOCKED BOX 231 
 
 And Joe Smith had been given a hero's funeral. 
 He was buried at the little English Church stand- 
 ing midway between Karrapolla and the ferry, 
 and all the countryside that were able flocked 
 to do him honour. The funeral taking place 
 before the Mataganga was ferryable, none of the 
 Harraganga people were able to be present, or 
 indeed knew anything of his death. 
 
 But there was a great crowd notwithstanding, 
 and amongst them all each one mourned the 
 dead man as his friend. 
 
 The office of chief mourner was by tacit consent 
 given to Cicely, who, setting Mrs Le Strange and 
 the doctor at defiance, had risen from her bed 
 and ridden to the church, that she might pay 
 the last tokens of respect to the man who had 
 died in saving her life. 
 
 But Joe Smith had been lying in his quiet grave 
 for four days now, and Cicely's wonder as to his 
 identity was still unsatisfied. It was a subject, 
 too, on which she could speak to no one. Perhaps 
 if Bernard had been strong and well she might 
 have opened her heart to him, but in his present 
 condition such a thing was wholly out of the 
 question, and she was fain to keep her doubts 
 and surmises to herself. 
 
 That morning the doctor, who had taken up
 
 232 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 his abode at Karrapolla pending the going down 
 of the waters, had started with the avowed in- 
 tention of getting across the river somehow, and 
 before he went, Cicely had screwed up her courage 
 to ask a favour at his hands. 
 
 " I should very much like to have something 
 that belonged to Joe Smith, if there are any books 
 or papers would you could you get them for 
 me ? " she said, looking at him with a wistful 
 expression in her grey eyes. 
 
 It was not often she looked at him, and the 
 doctor paused before replying, in order to get the 
 full benefit of the experience. 
 
 " If it will be any trouble " she began, holding 
 herself stiffly erect ; but he stopped her with a 
 laugh. 
 
 " Not at all, Miss Frome ; I would have the 
 hut taken down and brought over the ferry, to be 
 erected again at Karrapolla, if it would give you 
 pleasure." 
 
 " I don't want the hut," she answered simply, 
 with a literal interpretation of his words that 
 nettled him somewhat. 
 
 " That is fortunate," he said lightly ; "his 
 other effects are so scanty, that the transit is 
 not likely to be a very momentous business I 
 should fancy. However, I will see what I can
 
 THE PADLOCKED BOX 233 
 
 do, and either come or send to you before 
 sundown." 
 
 " Thank you," she answered, flushing hotly over 
 face and brow. And though the doctor thought 
 a great deal concerning that accession of colour 
 as he rode to the ferry, he could not congratulate 
 himself on being the cause of her blushing. Indeed, 
 sanguine as his nature was, he was shrewd enough 
 to know that she was not wasting a thought on 
 him then, saving as a means to a desired end. 
 
 Cicely lived through the day in a state of dis- 
 tressful agitation and unrest. It seemed im- 
 possible to keep her eyes away from the road to 
 the ferry, or her thoughts from the subject of Joe 
 Smith's identity. 
 
 Mrs. Le Strange noticed her uneasiness, and 
 was much edified by it, she having match-making 
 proclivities, and having already decided that a 
 marriage between Cicely and the doctor would 
 be a very suitable arrangement, despite the fact 
 of the former being not yet seventeen. But she 
 wisely forbore any comment, and Cicely strained 
 her eyes over the opposite hill, with never a 
 thought that she was being watched, or what 
 kind of interpretation was put to her restlessness. 
 
 It wanted only half an hour to sundown, when 
 Cicely, who was on the verandah with Dick,
 
 234 CICELY FROME 
 
 saw a horseman approaching down the opposite 
 hill. 
 
 She could tell even at that distance that it 
 was not the doctor by the way he rode and the 
 untidy slouch of his figure ; but it might be the 
 doctor's messenger, and with this thought in her 
 heart she caught Dick up in her arms, and 
 hurried away to the gate of the compound, to 
 await the coming of the horse and its rider. 
 
 Great was her disappointment, however, to 
 find that it was only Tom Colman, and that he 
 bore a bulky package before him on his saddle. 
 
 " Only some more of Mrs. Colman's cookery, I 
 guess," she said fretfully, yet with a smile of 
 amusement curling at the corners of her lips, for 
 Mrs. Colman's cookery had grown to be a stand- 
 ing joke in the household during the last few 
 days. The little woman appeared to labour under 
 the delusion that they must be in danger of 
 starving, since the recovery of little Dick ; and 
 at least once every day Tom Colman made the 
 journey between his house and Karrapolla laden 
 with a big chicken pie, or a batch of cake, or 
 some special kind of pudding of which Mrs. 
 Colman was sole patentee. 
 
 But she waited by the gate nevertheless while 
 the horseman rode at a leisurely pace up the hill.
 
 THE PADLOCKED BOX 235 
 
 " Gee whoa, gee whoa ! " shouted the small boy 
 gleefully, clapping his hands in anticipation of a 
 ride. 
 
 " Not this evening, young man," she said, 
 giving him a toss up in her arms, and trying to 
 look as happy as she could, though her gaze was 
 straining away across the valley to catch the 
 first glimpse of the doctor or his messenger. 
 
 " Evenin', Miss Frome," said the horseman, 
 drawing near enough to salute. 
 
 " Good evening," she responded, opening the 
 gate for him to enter. 
 
 " I won't come in, thank you, it's getting latish, 
 an' my missus will be wondering if I've taken a 
 lodging free, gratis, and for nothing, in the death- 
 hole," he answered, with a slow chuckle of amuse- 
 ment at his own lumbering wit. 
 
 Cicely grew white to her lips, and leaned 
 heavily against the gate for support. 
 
 " I've been over the ferry to-day with the 
 doctor; we've been looking through poor Joe's 
 things, and the doctor, he commissioned me to 
 bring this along and deli ver to you. Can you take 
 it, or shall I get down ? " he asked, swinging the 
 bulky bundle down from his saddle, and holding 
 it towards her. 
 
 " I can take it, thank you," she replied, putting
 
 236 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 Dick on the ground and coming forward to the 
 side of the horse. 
 
 " Mind, it ain't no light weight," he cautioned, 
 lowering it into her outstretched arms, and 
 leaning down to assist her in getting it on to 
 the ground. 
 
 " It is heavy, but I can manage it, thank you," 
 she said, flushing and paling with the intensity 
 of her excitement. 
 
 " The doctor, he said as I was to tell that he 
 should be along to-morrow if all is well. And 
 likewise I was to tell you that though we had to 
 break the box open by reason of not being able 
 to find the key, yet we didn't disturb the contents 
 when we saw what they was." 
 
 Cicely bent her head in thanks, being unable 
 to speak ; and Tom Colman turned his horse's 
 head homewards again. 
 
 " Well, good-night, Miss Frome ; the wife is 
 going to send you a chicken pie along in the 
 morning, and I reckon it'll be a topper too, for 
 her chicken pies ain't easy to beat." 
 
 Something more he shouted back as he 
 rode away down the hill, but she heeded it 
 not, being engrossed by what he had left 
 behind. 
 
 It was the padlocked box she remembered so
 
 THE PADLOCKED BOX 237 
 
 well, tied up for greater security in a big square 
 of rough canvas. 
 
 Taking it up in her arms, she hurried with it 
 to her room, and, delivering Dick to the care of 
 Mrs. Le Strange, stole away to investigate the 
 contents of the box. 
 
 With trembling fingers she untied the big 
 knots in which the canvas had been fastened, and 
 then with a strange flutter at her heart, for it 
 was like uncovering the face of the dead, she 
 lifted off the lid and looked inside. 
 
 Some bundles of clothing, a bag containing 
 coin, and a big roll of papers was what she saw. 
 
 Seizing on the roll of papers, she was about to 
 pull off the string, when a boldly written 
 direction caught her eye. 
 
 " To be given to my dear daughter, Miss Cicely 
 Frome, at my death." 
 
 That was all, but it was enough, and casting 
 herself on the floor by the box, she wept long 
 and bitterly.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 HIS EXPIATION 
 
 HEN her sorrow had spent itself some- 
 what, Cicely rose from the floor, 
 and, lighting her lamp, for it had 
 by this time become quite dark, 
 set herself to the task of examining the roll of 
 papers. 
 
 These were, some of them, sheets of foolscap, 
 some pieces of paper in which parcels had been 
 wrapped, and an old exercise-book or two, but all 
 were closely covered with writing in the well- 
 remembered hand of the father, so long and 
 faithfully mourned. 
 
 The sheets were all neatly numbered, like the 
 manuscript pages of a story, and she searched 
 with feverish haste for the beginning. 
 
 It was not far to find, and settling herself 
 where the lamp threw the most light, she pre- 
 pared to read what her father had left behind
 
 HIS EXPIATION 239 
 
 him. It was in the form of a letter, and bore 
 date the day when she had first come to 
 Karrapolla, and had been rowed over to 
 Mataganga for the first time in his ferry boat. 
 
 " MY DEAR DAUGHTER CICELY. Having seen 
 you to-day, after five long years of parting, it has 
 been impressed upon me to leave some word of 
 explanation in case a chance accident should ever 
 reveal to you that I did not die in the wreck of 
 the Eastern Star, but am to this day still alive ; 
 a most unhappy man it is true, yet working out 
 my expiation in the humble hope, that thereby I 
 may not go to my grave with the awful burden 
 of my mistake still weighing me down. My 
 intention was never by word or sign to let my 
 fellow-creatures know that my body was not 
 lying fathoms deep among the rocks in Roaring 
 Water Bay. 
 
 " But when you came over the ferry with 
 Bernard Alderson to-day, and I looked into your 
 face, which has grown so like to what your 
 mother's used to be, a hungry desire came to me 
 to let you know that I, your father, have done 
 what in me lay to atone for my fatal blunder, 
 which sent so many poor souls to their account, 
 with barely time to say a prayer. 
 
 " But I must not waste words in the beginning, 
 or it may chance that I shall die with my 
 purpose unfinished, my calling in life having 
 given me more freedom in handling a rope, or in
 
 2 40 CICEL Y FR OME 
 
 managing a boat, than in wielding a pen with 
 any sort of dexterity. 
 
 " That night when my natural life ended, and 
 this existence of unavailing sorrow began, was 
 one of the foggiest that I ever experienced 
 during summer months at anyrate. The day 
 before it had been hazy, but when night fell 
 everything was wrapped in a veil of impenetrable 
 mist ; to a casual observer it was only foggy, to 
 a sailor it was very foggy indeed, with a mis- 
 leading quality in it that I have never seen 
 equalled. 
 
 " I had been on the bridge for some hours, 
 when I was called down to the saloon to receive 
 a complimentary address from the passengers, 
 on the care and efficiency with which I had 
 brought them home. I was there for perhaps 
 half an hour, feeding my soul with flattery, and 
 laying up for myself such a bitterness of con-- 
 demnation, as surely never came on a son of 
 Adam before, and when I went back to my post, 
 the officer in charge reported that the Cape Clear 
 light was passed. 
 
 " I was very much surprised at this, not having 
 seen the Mizen Head light at all. But the fog 
 having lifted somewhat, he asserted that it had 
 been plainly visible, and described it so exactly 
 that I was sure he must be correct. 
 
 " To make myself easy I had soundings taken 
 directly after, and then, the fog still remaining 
 thinner, crowded on steam with the hope of
 
 HIS EXPIATION 241 
 
 gaining a miserable half-hour or so in arriving 
 in the Mersey. I did not trouble myself to 
 take any more soundings, but kept at my post, 
 wrapped in happy thoughts of soon seeing home 
 and dear ones again. 
 
 "Then came the collision, which seemed so 
 slight at first that I did not apprehend any serious 
 mischief, though I did wonder where I had got to. 
 
 " I need not go over the details of that most 
 awful tragedy, I died to you then, and it may 
 be wiser that the silence of my supposed ending 
 should never be broken for you. Man at his 
 best is but human, however, and the fatherhood 
 in me cries out to leave one word behind, not 
 of justification, I have never attempted that 
 even to myself, but a word of explanation why I 
 am still living. 
 
 " I went down with the vessel, that I distinctly 
 remember, and making no effort to save myself, 
 because death was better than life to such as I. 
 After that I have no recollection, until I opened 
 my eyes again to find myself floating on a part 
 of the bridge probably on an empty sea, with 
 utter silence all around. At first I could not 
 remember how I had come there, but little by 
 little the horror of my situation returned to me, 
 and I prayed for death. But strange as it may 
 seem to you, I did not dare to take it ; and 
 although one roll from my frail raft would have 
 found me the grave I sought so anxiously, I 
 hesitated to take it, having a thought to the 
 16
 
 242 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 hereafter, and deeming such issues as life and 
 death best left in the hands of the Almighty. 
 
 " Before the morning broke I was unconscious 
 again, and when next I came to my senses I 
 was lying on the deck of a small barque, with 
 foreign sailors bending over me and jabbering 
 in a language that I could not even put a name 
 to. I pointed to my uniform, and then to their 
 captain, to explain my rank ; but they didn't 
 understand me, and I gave up the attempt. I 
 was very ill for days after this, delirious often, I 
 fancy, though, speaking as I did in an unknown 
 tongue, no one was any the wiser for the things 
 I uttered. 
 
 " As I grew better they gave me to understand 
 that they were short-handed, and that I must 
 pay in work, for the care and nursing that I had 
 received at their hands. This I was willing to 
 do, being thankful, moreover, for the chance that 
 had thrown me amongst people who would not 
 deliver me up at the next port at which they 
 might call, for surely there is no greater 
 degradation to a sea-captain than to find himself 
 alive, when all his ship's company have found a 
 watery grave through his misadventure. 
 
 " I found that they were Portuguese from 
 Setubal, and having carried a cargo of salt and 
 oil to Liverpool, were returning laden with 
 manufactured goods. They had been driven out 
 of their course somewhat, and their interpreter 
 had been washed overboard. All this I learned,
 
 HIS EXPIATION 243 
 
 partly by signs, and then as I began to pick up 
 the language, and was able to piece fragments 
 together, with the aid of a few Spanish words 
 that I had gathered in my travels. 
 
 " When we were nearing port, a quarrel broke 
 out, which developed into mutiny, and the 
 captain and first mate being killed, the second 
 mate took the command, and decided to steer 
 across the Atlantic for Cuba, where he could 
 dispose of his cargo with advantage. But he 
 knew next to nothing of navigation, and I was 
 pressed into service, and made to do the work, 
 whilst he strutted about and gave the orders. 
 
 " Of our sufferings on the voyage I need not 
 speak ; wretchedly provisioned, with a scanty 
 allowance of water, our plight was miserable 
 enough ; and, to make matters worse, yellow 
 fever broke out on board during the time we 
 lay in harbour at Havana. I went down with it, 
 and was hustled off to a shed on a deserted 
 quay, in company with three more of the crew, 
 to live or die, as might chance to happen. The 
 others died, but I, who yearned for death as 
 weary ones for sleep, got better, and had to face 
 life again as best I might. Then I shipped 
 aboard a Spanish merchantman, homeward 
 bound for Barcelona, and reaching that port was 
 again adrift, on the tender mercies of whoever 
 would employme. 
 
 " Whilst in Barcelona, by a queer chance an old 
 English newspaper fell into my hands, contain-
 
 244 CICEL Y FR OME 
 
 ing an account of the inquiry on the wreck of 
 the Eastern Star. After reading that, any idea 
 I might have cherished of making myself known 
 again to my friends was for ever banished, and I 
 set my face, with what steadiness I could, to the 
 endurance of such a term of life as should be 
 meted out to me. It was while I hung about 
 the docks, half starving, that the longing to 
 expiate my mistake came to me, and it was there 
 I made my first beginning, by jumping into 
 deep water and saving a boy's life from drown- 
 ing. It was two months before I found a vessel, 
 and in that time I rescued thirty people from a 
 watery grave. Then I got a berth on board a 
 boat bound for the Philippine Islands, and on 
 the voyage there mOre chances occurred to me. 
 Life had found an object again, and at times I 
 was almost happy in my lot. 
 
 " On the return voyage we experienced fright- 
 ful storms in the Indian Ocean, and were finally 
 wrecked on the coast of Ceylon. Only seven 
 lives were lost, however, and I had a grand haul, 
 bringing my record up to fifty. I was a good bit 
 battered, however, and forced to remain at Point 
 de Galle, on my beam ends, whilst my ship- 
 mates were sent back to Spain on board an 
 English vessel. 
 
 " Three months I stayed there, earning my 
 living as best I could, and always on the look-out 
 for the chance of saving a life, and if you're so 
 minded you don't have to wait long either.
 
 HIS EXPIATION 245 
 
 " It was while I was hanging about there, 
 wondering what to do next, that I heard of the 
 Mataganga and the dangers of the rotary 
 current. An odd fancy struck me that I'd like 
 to be ferryman in a place where chances to add 
 to my record would be so plentiful. So when 
 my numbers had reached a hundred, I got the 
 governor to give me a testimonial, and started 
 on the journey here. 
 
 " It has been like a Providence directing my 
 steps all the way. I had no sooner offered 
 myself as a candidate for the office of ferryman, 
 and been accepted, than I dived into the death- 
 hole and brought out a planter, who proved a 
 good, kind friend to me. Your brother Bernard 
 went to live with him afterwards, and so I got to 
 hear of your mother's death, and occasionally a 
 word of your welfare. 
 
 "Then Bernard went to Karrapolla, and shortly 
 after that his marriage took place. But months 
 had passed without a word of you coming to 
 my ears ; until one fine morning a few weeks 
 ago he came over the ferry and said that he 
 was on his way to the coast to meet his sister, 
 and a few days after that I saw you, my child, 
 again. 
 
 " I began this on the day that you came over 
 the ferry for the first time, but I have been 
 weeks in accomplishing my task, which has been 
 a heavy and painful one. 
 
 "It is done now, and I shall lock away the
 
 246 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 papers in my box until such time as death, 
 kind death, shall set me free. There is my old 
 uniform, too, in the box, which no nearness to 
 starvation has ever induced me to part from. 
 And the money in the bag is the result of a 
 collection made for me at Point de Galle. 
 
 " May your life be happy and unshadowed, my 
 child ! That Bernard will be kind to you I have 
 no doubt, for he has already proved himself a 
 good brother. Do not grieve for me, but rejoice 
 when this meets your eye that my weary task 
 is over, and rest is mine at last. Your loving, 
 sorrowing father, 
 
 "RICHARD FROME."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE END 
 
 WO weeks later, when the sun was near 
 its setting, and the coolness of the 
 evening was drawing over the rain- 
 refreshed country round Karrapolla, 
 a little company of four entered the gate of the 
 burying-ground attached to the English Church, 
 and gathered round the grave of the late ferry- 
 man, Joe Smith. 
 
 Julie was there, pale and thin with recent 
 illness, her face wearing a tender regret for the 
 man whose mortal remains lay at rest below. 
 She leaned on her husband's arm, and his face 
 was pale too, but more from emotion than weak- 
 ness, and there was ever and anon a quivering 
 of the muscles round his month, telling of depths 
 beneath that w^ere stirred alike by gratitude and 
 grief. 
 
 " If we had only known, and could have
 
 248 CICEL Y FROME 
 
 comforted him ! " wailed Cicely, falling on her 
 knees by the grave, her tears dropping like rain 
 on the ground. 
 
 Dick plucked at her gown in troubled wonder, 
 " Why auntie cry ? she not naughty. Dick 
 naughty sometimes, then he cry ; " and he shook 
 his head solemnly. 
 
 But no one noticed him then, which was per- 
 haps not pleasing to his self-love, though he 
 graciously forbore to resent it. And stooping a 
 little, Bernard laid his hand on Cicely's shoulder. 
 
 " Little sister," he said gently, " it was best 
 so. Nothing on earth could have comforted 
 him like the doing of his duty, and the per- 
 formance of such brave deeds as made his 
 expiation." 
 
 " But his heart, how it must have ached with 
 the sorrow, and the loneliness of it all ! " she 
 cried, her own soul wrung with anguish at the 
 thought of what he had to endure. 
 
 " It was part of the price," Bernard rejoined 
 moodily ; " the world is full of sorrow, turn where 
 you will." 
 
 " But not such sorrow," objected Cicely. 
 
 "It is not sorrow now, the expiation is all 
 worked out, and the very remembrance faded. 
 Ah, what a good kind man he was to give me
 
 THE END 249 
 
 back my Dick from the clutches of Wimala, and 
 then to drag him from the death-hole ! " cried 
 Julie, gathering her boy in her arms with a burst 
 of fervent thanksgiving. 
 
 " What shall we put on his stone, Cicely ? " 
 asked Bernard as they turned away, and the last 
 rays of sunset made a glory round the grave. 
 
 " I think," she answered slowly, that it would 
 please him best if we only put, ' Here lies the 
 Ferryman of Mataganga'; and no one will forget 
 him the sooner for not knowing his real name." 
 
 And they went away, while the shadows of 
 peaceful night fell and brooded over the hero's 
 quiet bed. 
 
 THE END 
 
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 literature cf permanent valne. They are admirably adapted for 
 School Prizes, Gift Books, etc. etc.
 
 Selections from 
 
 Blade and the Ear' Series. 
 
 ENLARGED. 
 
 Crown 8vo, Illustrated, elegantly bound in cloth extra, 
 bevelled boards, price 2s. each. 
 
 1. The Blade and the Ear. A Book for Young Men. 
 
 3. The Young Men of the Bible. A Series of Papers, 
 
 Biographical and Suggestive. By Rev. JOSEPH A. COLLIEB. 
 
 t. The King's Highway; or, Illustrations of the Command- 
 ments. By the Rev. RICHARD NEWTON, D.D., Author of 
 ' The Best Things,' etc. 
 
 4. Nature's Wonders. By the Eev. Eichard Newton, D.D., 
 
 Author of 'The King's Highway,' etc. 
 
 i. Guiding Lights: Lives of the Great and Good. By F. E. 
 COOKE, Author of 'Footprints.' 
 
 6. Heroes of Charity: Records from the Lives of Merciful 
 
 Men whose Righteousness has not been Forgotten. By JAMES 
 F. COBB, F.R.G.S., Author of 'Stories of Success,' etc. 
 
 7. Mountain Patriots. A Tale of the Befonnation in Savoy. 
 
 By Mrs. A. S. OBB. 
 
 8. Village Tales and Sketches. By Mary Russell Mitford, 
 
 Author of 'Our Village,' etc. 
 
 9. The Standard-Bearer. A Tale of the Times of Constantine 
 
 the Great. By ELLEN PALMER. 
 
 10. Stories told in a Fisherman's Cottage. By Ellen Palmer, 
 
 Author of 'The Standaid-Bearer,' etc. 
 
 11. Diversions of Hollycot; or, The Mother's Art of Thinking. 
 
 By Mrs. JOHNSTONE, Author of 'Nights of the Round Table, ' 
 'Clan Alb in,' etc. 
 
 li. Philip Walton; or, Light at Last. By the Author of 
 'Met a Franz,' etc. 
 
 15. Picture Lessons by the Divine Teacher; or, Illustrations 
 
 of the Parables of our Lord. By PETEB GBANT, D.D. 
 
 14. Taken Up. A Tale for Boys and Girls. By Alfred 
 
 WHYMPEB. 
 
 16. Champions of the Reformation. Stories of their Lives. 
 
 By JANET GORDON.
 
 , P, Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell's Catalogue, 7 
 
 The Boys' Own Library. 
 
 ENLARGED SERIES. 
 
 Crown 8vo, Illustrated, elegantly bound In cloth extra, gold and 
 colours, bevelled boards, price 2. each. 
 
 1. The Hermit ' Apprentice. By Ascott E. Hope. 
 
 2. Tha Far North: Explorations in the Arctic Regions. By 
 
 ELISHA KENT KANE, M.D. 
 
 3. Slonarchs of Ocean: Columbus and Cook. 
 
 4. Noble Mottoes of Great Families. By Charles Bruce, 
 
 Author of 'Lame Felix,' etc. 
 
 6. The Castaway's Home; or, The Story of the Sailing and 
 Sinking of the Good Ship 'Rose.' By Mrs. HABDT. 
 
 6. Great Men of European History, from the Christian Era 
 
 till the Present Time. By DAVID PBTDE, LL.D. 
 
 7. Afloat and Ashore with Sir Walter Raleigh. By Mrs. 
 
 HABDT, Author of 'Champions of the Reformation,' etc. 
 
 8. Lame Felix. A Book for Boys. By Charles Brace. 
 
 9. Life at Hart we 11 ; or, Frank and His Friends. By 
 
 KATHARINE E. MAT, Author of 'Alfred and his Mother,' etc. 
 
 10. Max Wild, the Merchant's Sen; and other Stories for the 
 
 Young. 
 
 11. Up North; or, Lost and Found in Russia and the Arctic 
 
 Wastes. By Mrs. HABDT. 
 
 12. Angelo and Stella. A Story of Italian Fisher Life. By 
 
 the ROT. GEBALD S. DAVIEB. 
 
 13. Seeing the World. A Young Sailor's own Story. By 
 
 CHABLKS NORDHOFF. 
 
 14. The Miner's Son and Margaret Vernon. By M. M. 
 
 POLLABD, Author of 'The Minister's Daughter." 
 
 15. How Frank began to Climb the Ladder. By Charles 
 
 BRUCB, Author of 'Lame Felix,' eto. 
 
 16. The History of Two Wanderers ; or, Cast Adrift. 
 
 17. Memorable Wars of Scotland. By Patrick Fraaer Tytler, 
 
 F.R.S.E. 
 
 18. Job Carson's Portrait Gallery. By Lncretia Maybory, 
 
 Author of 'Sandy,' 'Ethelwyn's Light,' etc.
 
 Selections from 
 
 Two Shilling Library for Girls. 
 
 Crow* 8ro, mutirated, elegantly bound is MU ttyU, 
 "loth extra, price 2$. each. 
 
 1. Life's Crosses, and How to 
 
 Meet Them. Tales for 
 Girls. By T. S. Aarmja, 
 
 2. A Father's Legacy to MB 
 
 Daughters, etc. A Book 
 for Tcncg Women. By 
 Dr. GRKGOKT. 
 
 S. Labours of Love. A Tale 
 for the Young. By Wnri- 
 FBBD TATLOB. 
 
 4. Mossdale. A Tale for the 
 
 Young. By ANNA M. DK 
 IONGH. 
 
 B. Jacqueline. A Story of the 
 Reformation in Holland. 
 By Mrs. HARDT (JABTHT 
 GORDON). 
 
 5. The Minister's Daughter, 
 
 and Old Anthony's Will. 
 Tales for the Young. B; 
 M. M. POLLABD. 
 
 7. The Two Sisters. By M. M. 
 
 POLLABD. 
 
 8. A Needle and Thread. A 
 
 Tale for Girlg. By EMMA 
 J. BARNES. Author of 
 'Faithful and True; or 
 The Mother's Legacy.' 
 
 9. Nonna. A Story of the Days 
 of Julian the Apostate. 
 By ELLBN PALMKR, 
 
 10. An Earl's Daughter. A 
 
 Story for the Young. By 
 M M. POLLAKD, Author of 
 ' The Two Bisters,' etc. 
 
 11. Doing and Dreaming. A 
 
 Talo for the Young. By 
 EDWARD GARRBTT. 
 
 12. Vain Ambition; or, Only a 
 
 Girl. By EMMA DAVBW- 
 POBT, Author of 'Ovr 
 Birthdays,' eto. 
 
 13. The Cottagers of Glen 
 
 buriiie. A Scottish Taie. 
 By ELIZABETH HAMILK> 
 
 i. My New Home : A Woman's 
 Diary. 
 
 10. Home Heroines. Tales for 
 Girls. By T. 8. ARTHUR 
 
 18. The Roseville Family. By 
 Mrs. A. S. ORE. 
 
 17. Leah. A Tale of Ancient 
 Palestine. By Mrs. A. S. 
 ORB. 
 
 EIGHTEENPENNY BOYS' FAVOURITES, 
 
 Nva Ediiiont. in small crown Bvo, cloth extra, eleyant and 
 characteristic binding. 
 
 1 THE LIFE AKD ADVENTURES OF ROBLKSON CBUSOE. 
 
 2 THE HISTORY OF BANDFORD AND M2KTON. 
 
 S THB YICAR OF ^AEZFIELD Poms and Essays. By Oliver 
 
 GOLDSMITH. 
 4. THB FABLES OF SQP AND OTHERS. Translated into Bnglisfc . 
 
 with inatructiTe Applications, t>y HAMUBL OKOJL/LUL. D.D. 
 I. BITNTAN'S PH-GRIK'S PROQRESS.
 
 W, P, Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell's Catalogue. 9 
 
 Sunday - School Reward Books. 
 
 crvwn &vu, cloth extra , in an entirely new and elegant buxiiny, 
 price It. Qd. each volume, Illustrated. 
 
 I. One Hour a Week: Fifty tyre- 
 Bible Lessons for the 
 Young. 
 
 . The Story of John Eeywood : 
 An Historical Tale of the 
 Time of Harry vm. By 
 CHABLKS BKCCB. 
 
 8. Lessons from Rose Hill ; and 
 
 LlTTLJt NANKRTT3. 
 
 *. areat and Good Women : 
 Biographies for Girls By 
 LYDIA H. SIGOITRICKT 
 
 B. At Home and Abroad; or, 
 Uncle William's Adven- 
 tures. 
 
 *. Alfred and his Mother; or, 
 Seeking the Kingdom. By 
 KATHARINE B. MAT 
 
 T. Asriel; or, Toe Cryaial Cup. 
 A Tale for the Young By 
 Mrs. HEWDKHSOH. 
 
 S. The Kind Governess; or, 
 How to make Home Happy. 
 
 9. Percy and Ida. By KATHA- 
 KIHK E. MAT. 
 
 10. Three Wet Sundays with the 
 
 BOOK OF JOSHUA. By 
 Ejjjsa PALHKE. 
 
 11. The Fishermen of Galilee ; 
 
 or. Sunday Talks with 
 Papa. By ELLEN PALMKB. 
 
 12. From Cottage to Castle; 
 
 or, Faithful in Little. By 
 the Author of 'The Red 
 Velvet Bible,' eta 
 
 13. The Story of a Moee Rose. 
 
 By CHARIJES BBCC*. 
 IS. The Children's Hour : Talks 
 to Young People By 
 OHARLBS BRUCE. 
 
 SUNDAY AND WEEK-DAY REWARD BOOKS. 
 
 bnall crown 8t>o. dot* extra, new bindingi, niwttrated. price 1;. Bd. edck. 
 
 1. The Sculptor of Bruges. By 
 
 Mrg. W. Q. HALL. 
 
 2. Christinas at the Beacon : A 
 
 Tale for the Young. By BLLXM 
 PALMER. 
 
 3. The Sea and the Ravages 
 
 A Story of Adventure. By 
 HAROLD LINCOLN. 
 
 4. Tbe Swedish Singer; or, 
 
 The Story of Vanrta Rosendahl. 
 By Mrs. W. Q. HALL. 
 
 6. My Beautiful Home; or 
 
 Lily's Search. By CHAS. BRCCB. 
 
 5. Summer Holidays at Silvex- 
 
 ea. By E. ROSALIE SALMON. 
 
 7. Fred Grahazn'o Resolve. By 
 
 the Author of ' Mat and Sofle, ' 
 etc. etc. 
 
 8. Wilton School ; or. Harry 
 
 Campbell's Revenge. A Tale. 
 By F. E. WKATHBRLT. 
 
 9. Grace Harvey and her 
 
 Cousins. 
 
 10. Sv*n Lindsay. By Margaret 
 
 FRABIR TYTLBR. 
 
 11. Harvey Sinclair; or, i Lessons 
 
 for Life. By the Author of 
 1 Fred Graham's Resolve.' 
 
 12. The Boy of WUlons;ntoy 
 
 School. A Tale. By KOBERT 
 RICHARDSON, B.A. 
 
 13. Ruth Seyton ; or, The Cross 
 
 and the Crown. By EDITS 
 AWSBT. 
 
 14. The Choristers of Ravens- 
 
 wood. By ALICE JACKSON. 
 15 A Goat-boy Baronet ; or, 
 
 Cyril the Landless Laird. By 
 J ENNIB CHAPFELL. 
 
 16. Bob's Heroine. By Maude 
 M. BUTLER.
 
 10 Selections from 
 
 WORKS OF THE 
 
 REV. RICHARD NEWTON, D.D. 
 
 In maU crown 8vo, cloth extra, in an entirely new and elegant 
 binding, price If. 6d. each volume, Illustrated. 
 
 I. Bible Bleiaings. 
 1 The Best Things. 
 
 S. Bible Wonders. 
 4. Bible Jewell, 
 a. Rilli from the Fountain of 
 Life. 
 
 6. Leaves from the Tree of Life. 
 
 7. Pebbles from the Brook. 
 
 8. The Giants, and How to Fight 
 
 Them; andWonderful Things. 
 
 9. The Safe Compass, and H, 
 it Points. 
 
 By the tame Author. Price 2$, each. 
 
 The Slug's Highway ; or, Illustrations of the Commandment!. 
 f *ture's Wonders. 
 
 N I M M O'S 
 
 NEW EIQHTEENPENNY SERIES 
 
 OF 8TORIE8 BY POPULAR AUTHORS. 
 
 In full crown 8w, 176 pp. Illustrated. 
 
 1. THE BROTHER-MIDDIES, AND SLAVERS, AHOY! By Arthur 
 Las EJQOHT, Author of ' Adventures of a Midshipmite. 1 
 
 1 THE OHOBT OF REEDER B WOOD. By Maude HI. Butler, 
 Author of ' Waiting and Serving,' 'Cecil,' etc. 
 
 8. DAISY RALSTON; or, 'A REGULAR TOMBOY.' By Lucie 
 . JACKSON. 
 
 4. THE HERO OF CRAMPTON SCHOOL. By Mrs. 0. Forsyth 
 
 GEANT, Author of 'The Boys at Penrohn.' 
 
 5. LITTLE WOMEN. By Louisa M. Alcott, Author of ' Jack and 
 
 Jill, 1 'An Old-Fashioned Girl,' etc. 
 
 6. LITTLE WIVES (LITTLE WOMEN MARRIED). Being Part 
 
 Second of 'Little Women.' By LOUISA M. ALCOTT, Author 
 of ' Jack and Jill,' An Old-Fashioned Girl,' etc. 
 
 7. THE THORNES OF THURSTON. By Lucie E. Jackson. 
 
 8. IN THE CRADLE OF THE NORTH WIND. By Bessie Marchant, 
 
 Author of 'Dan,' ' Under Clearer Skies,' etc. 
 
 . JULIET STANLEY ; or, Silas Mogg's Peaxl. By Penley Reyd. 
 10. THE BADGE OF THE SCARLET FOPPY. By Lucie E. Jackson.
 
 W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell's Catalogue. 11 
 IIMHO'S ONE SHILLING REWARD BOOKS, 
 
 Small crown 8vo, cloth, with FrontU piece. 
 1. F<mr Little People and their Friend. 
 1 Elisabeth; or, The Exiles of Siberia. 
 
 3. Paul and Virginia. From the French of Bamardln Saint-Pierre. 
 4 Little Threads : Tangle Thread, Golden Thread, and Silver Thread, 
 5. Benjamin Franklin, the Printer Boy. 
 & Barton Todd, and the Young Lawyer. 
 
 I. The Perils of Greatness : The Story of Alexander Menxtkoff. 
 
 8, Uttle Orowna, and How to Win Them. By Rev. Joseph A. Collier. 
 8. Great Blohes : Nelly Elvers' Story. By Aont Fanny. 
 
 10. The Right Way, and the Contrast. 
 
 11. The Daisy's First Winter. And other Stories. By H. Beeoher Stove, 
 it, The Old Farmhouse. And other Stories. By M. M. Pollard. 
 
 15. Twyford Hall ; or, Rosa's Ohriatmas Dinner. By Charles Bruoe. 
 l The Discontented Weathercock. And other Stories. By MV Jones. 
 
 16. Out at Sea. And other Stories. By Two Authors, 
 10. The Story of Waterloo ; or, The Fall of Napoleon. 
 
 IT. Sister Jane's Little Stories. Edited by Louisa Loughborough. 
 
 18. Oncle John's First Shipwreck. By Charles Bruce. 
 
 19. The History of a Lifeboat. By Rlohard Bewe. 
 
 SO. Blind Mercy, and Little Nat. By Gertrude Crockford. 
 
 NEW SHILLING BOOKS BT POPULAR AUTHORS. 
 
 In attractive Bindings, each with Frontispiece, 
 1. The Vulture's Nest. And other Stories. By Asoott P.. Hope. 
 1 'Damps. 1 And other Stories. By the same Author. 
 
 3. A Might In a Snowstorm. And other Stories. By Charles Brnoa. 
 
 4. Dick's Dog. And other Stories of Country Boys. By Ascott B. Hope. 
 
 5. Crossed with Silver. By Jennie Ohappell. 
 
 8. Three School Friends. A Tale for Girls. By Edith Awaby. 
 
 7. The Maltese Cross. And other Tales for Girls. By Jennie OhappalL 
 
 8. Fred Leicester; or. The Southern Cross, and Charles's Wain. And 
 
 other Storiei. By RICHARD ROVE. 
 s. Our Sallmakar's Yarn. By Mra. George Cnpples. 
 10. Hero's Story. The Autobiography of a Newfoundland Dog. By 
 HABBIKTT BOULTWOOO, Author of 'Acting on the Square,' etc. 
 
 II. Fairy Tales and True. By Alice F. Jaokson. 
 IS. Parables from Flowers. By Gertrude P. Dyer. 
 
 13. Bertie Linton ; or, Lost in Japan. By Percy Ainslle. 
 
 It All for Himself. A Story for Boys. By Harriett D. Boultwood. 
 
 15. Animal Adventures. By Asoott R. Hope. 
 
 16. Sandy's Secret. By Ascott R. Hope. 
 
 17. Little Lady Prim. By E. M. Waterworth and Jennie Chappell. 
 
 18. Una's Fortune. By Emma Leslie. 
 
 19. Patience and Her Bright. By L. E. Tiddeman. 
 
 20. The Colonel's Boy, and Roy's Adventures. By L. E. Tiddeman.
 
 12 Selections from 
 
 NIMMO'S 
 
 NINEPENNY SERIES FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, 
 
 Square fooltoap 8vo. vntk Illuriratioiu, elegantly bound in aiotk- 
 prico 9d. each. 
 
 THIS Series of Books will be found unequalled for genuine interest acd 
 value, and it is believed they will be eagerly welcomed by thouphtf cl 
 children of both sexes. Parents may reel assared that etwi> Volume 
 taachea some noble lesson, or enforces seme valuable truth. 
 
 1. In the Brave Days of Old; or. The Story of the Spanish 
 
 Armada. For Boys and Girls. 
 
 2. The Lost Baby. By the Author of ' The Basket of Flower*,' 
 
 etc. 
 8, Leslie Boss ; or, Fond of a Lark. By Charles Bruoe. 
 
 4. My First and Last Voyage. By Benjamin Clarke. 
 
 5. Little Katie: A Fairy Story By Gbsrles Brcoe. 
 
 8. Being Afraid. And other Stories for the Young. By Oharle 
 
 STUAHT. 
 
 7. The Toll-Keepers. And other Storiee for the Young. By 
 BsKjAttur CLARKB. 
 
 8> Dick Barford : A Boy who would go down HilL By Charles 
 BBUCB. 
 
 9. Joan of Arc ; or, The Story of a Noble Life. Written for 
 
 Girls. 
 
 10. Helen Siddal: A Story for Children. By Ellen Palmar, 
 
 11. Hat and Sofie : A Story for Boys and Girls. 
 
 12. Peace and War. By the Author of ' The B&skat of Flowea,' 
 
 eta 
 
 18. Perilous Adventures of a French Soldier in Algeria. 
 
 14. The Magic Glass ; or, The Secret of Happiness. 
 
 15. Hawks' Dene : A Tale for Children. By Katharine B. May. 
 
 16. Little Maggie. And other Stories. By th* Author of ' The 
 
 Joy of Well-Doing, ' etc. etc. 
 
 17. The Brother's Legacy; or, Better than Gold. By M. 3L 
 
 POLLJLBD. 
 
 IF. The Little Sisters ; or, Jealousy. And other Stories for the 
 Toong. By the Anther of ' Little Tales for Tiay Tote,' etc. 
 
 19, Kate's New Home. By Cecil Scott, Author of 'Cbiyssie 
 
 Lyle,' to.
 
 W, P, Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell's Catalogue. 13 
 
 gimme's $>ix$tnn$ Jaimtilt 
 
 Foolscap 8vo, Illustrated, handsomely bound in cloth, 
 price 6d. each. 
 
 Ps&rlt for Little People. 
 Gnat Lettont for Little 
 
 Pople. 
 Season vrt Rhyme: A Poetry 
 
 Sooi. for the Young. 
 Jltop't Little Fable Book. 
 9mpetfrom the Great Vint. 
 The Pot of Gold. 
 Story Picturetfrom the Bible, 
 The Tablet of Stone : niuttro- 
 
 Uuns of the Commandments. 
 Wayt of Doing Good. 
 Storiet about our Dogs. By 
 
 BJLBJUBT BBKOHEB STOWS. 
 The Red- Winged Goote. 
 The Hermit of the HUU. 
 Kff*'* Chrittmas, and other 
 
 Stories. By ADELAIDE AUBIES. 
 A Vitit to Grandmother, and 
 
 other Storids for the Young. 
 Bible Storiet for Tounf 
 
 People. By ADKLAXDR ACSI-BM. 
 The Little Woodman and ha 
 
 DogCtwwr. By Mrs. SHXBVOOC. 
 Among the Mountains : Talet 
 
 for the Yonng. By 
 
 i. 
 
 5. 
 6. 
 
 7. 
 8. 
 
 9. 
 10. 
 
 11. 
 11 
 
 14. 
 1ft. 
 16. 
 17. 
 
 18. LittU Gemt for Little Readert. 
 
 19. 00 your Duty, comt what vsill ; 
 
 uid other Storioe for the Toug. 
 80. tfoblc Joe: A Tale for Cfhil- 
 
 dren. By AIXLAIDK AUSTIN. 
 2L rtiyFrnon,afxio<A<ror 
 
 for the Toang. 
 CL -Antodotet of Favourite Ani- 
 
 sais told for Ohildrou. 3y 
 ACSTBH 
 
 23. Little Henry and hit Bearer. 
 
 By Mrs. SHBKWOOB. 
 
 24. TA.0 Holiday t at Wilton, and 
 
 other Stories. By Ar>*Lxii>x 
 AUSTEN. 
 
 25. Chryuie Lyle: A Tale for the 
 
 Young By C*ou. SOOTT. 
 
 28. Little Elticamonff the Quarry- 
 
 men. By Eu.mii PAI.KKB. 
 
 27. The Letton of Obedience. By 
 
 the Rev. RiOHAao-NswiOK. D.D. 
 
 28. T%< 7<*jon of Diligence. By 
 
 the Rev.RiGHAjm NBWTOB, D J). 
 23. Fergut: A Tale. By Jssr-b 
 
 ABBOTT. 
 80. S6ert and At Afo*Ay. By 
 
 JACOB ABBOTT. 
 
 31. T Shepherd of Salisbury 
 
 Plain. By HANNAH MOM. 
 
 32. Emily Barton, and other 
 
 Stories. By CHABLBB and UABT 
 LAID. 
 
 33. Slieaotth VUliert, and other 
 
 Stories. By OHAiLBS nd M -.ar 
 LAMB. 
 
 34. The Grateful Negro. By 
 
 MASIA ED9KWORTH. 
 
 36. Forgive and Foryet By 
 MASIA EDOKWOSTH 
 
 36. Waite not. Want wt. By 
 
 MAJUA EDOKWOSTB. 
 
 37. The Falte Key. By Maria 
 
 KDOBWOBTR. 
 jg. 2% Bracelet*, By Mania 
 
 Jfttbnrile $o0Ks. 
 
 Tht above Series of Books is also kept in rmbossed ami illuminated 
 paper covers, beautifully ftrinitd in gold front entirely netu 
 each.
 
 Selections from 
 
 NIMMO'S FOURPEIIMjnWENILE BOOKS. 
 
 SHORT STORIES FOR CHILDREN, by Mrs. SHERWOOD, 
 JANE TAYLOR, RICHARD Ro WE, etc. 
 
 Deny 18mo, doth, Iliuttrated. 
 1. George said bis Fenny, by Mrs. SKRBWOOD ; and other Tales. 
 
 3. Lucy and Her Mother, by JAHB TAYLOR ; and other Tales. 
 S. Getting OB In Ufo, and other Tales. 
 
 4. Bessie Blake the Farmer's Daughter, by RICHARD Bow* : and 
 
 other Tales. 
 
 0. The Busy Bee, by Mrs. BHKBWOOD; and other Tales. 
 C. Try to be Happy, and'other Tales. 
 
 T. The Story of the Rose, by Mrs. BHBKWOOD ; and other Tales. 
 
 8. Brave and True, and other Tales. 
 
 e. The Tonng Apprentice, by JABS TATLOB; and other Tale* 
 
 10. Regie's Pony, and other Tales. 
 
 11. Emily** Temptation, by Mrs. SHEHWOOD; and other Tales. 
 19. Philip's Day Dream, and other Tales. 
 
 19. The Orphan Boy, by Mrs. SHBBWOOD; and other Tales. 
 
 U. The One Thing Needful, and other Tales. 
 
 ir. Little Sins, by Mrs. SHERWOOD ; and other Tales. 
 
 16. The Indian Chief, and other Tales. 
 
 IT. The Little Dog Trusty, and other Tales. 
 
 18. The Kind Bear, and other Tales. 
 
 NIMMO'S THREEPENNY JUVENILE BOOKS. 
 
 ILLUSTBATED. 
 
 SHORT STORIES FOR CHILDREN, BY WELL-KNOWN AUTHOM. 
 
 In neat cloth binding. 
 
 1. The Pet Polyanthus. i 10. Annie's Fall. 
 
 I. Amy and Her Doras. SO. The Fisherman's Son. 
 
 3. The Negro Servant. 21. The Cherry Orchard. 
 
 4. Waf s Ohrtetaiaa at Home. 22. Ernest : or, The Great atone 
 
 5. Blind Baity. S3. Story of a Coward. [Face. 
 
 8. The Basket Woman. 
 
 7. Good for Evil. 
 
 8. The Orange Girl. 
 
 9. A Sunday in Jerusalem. 
 
 84. Value of Little Things. 
 
 25. Story of the Apples. 
 
 28. The Benevolent Schoolmaster. 
 
 27. Learning by Experience. 
 
 10. Daddy Goodluok. 28. Lady OriMll Baillie. 
 
 11. Parley the Porter. j St. Talks with Mr. FalrokiU. 
 
 II. The Fortunate Young Lady. 
 18 The Orange Grove. 
 
 14. The Wreck of the Prosporo 
 
 15. The Fortune Teller. 
 
 90. The Troublesome Friemd, 
 U. Mrs. Fall-child's Story. 
 31. Sarah Martin. 
 33. Honour thy Parent*. 
 
 16. The French Philanthropist S4. The Poor Children's Friend. 
 
 17. Jim Brawn. SI Btory about Bmvy. 
 It. Uttle Mat. 1 SI The Orphan's Friend,
 
 W, P, Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell's Catalogue. 15 
 
 NIMMO'S BIRTH-DAY BOOKS. 
 
 In Foolscap 16 mo. 
 
 1. Bible Words for Birth-Days ; Consisting of a Text of Scripture 
 and Verse of Hymn for Every Day In the Year. 
 
 I. Birth-Day Greetings; Consisting of Poetic*! Extract* and 
 Mottoes for Every Day in the Year. 
 
 8. The Birth-Day Book of Wit and Humour ; Consisting of Witt; 
 and Humorous Extracts for Every Day in the Year. 
 
 4. The Birth-Day Oracle ; or, Whom shall I Marry 1 Guesses at 
 
 the Character and Appearance of yonr future Husband or Wife. 
 
 5. The Little Fold's Birth-Day Book ; or, Something Good about 
 
 Children. (/hild-li f e Flowers, etc., for Every Day In the Year. 
 
 6. A Cup of Blessing for Every Day In the Year. A Birth-Day 
 
 Book of Cheering and Consolatory Texts. By 0. B. 
 
 7. The Lyric Birth-Day Book. Snatches of Sonar gathered from th 
 
 Lyric Poets, and arranged for Every Day in the Year. By D. H. 
 
 8. Mrs. Hemana' Birth-Day Book. A Selection from the Poems of 
 
 Felicia Hemans, arranged as a Daily Text Book. 
 
 9. Birth-Day Chimes from Longfellow. Six Hundred Quotations 
 
 from hi* Poems, arranged as a Daily Text Book. By 8. P. L. 
 
 10. Birth-Day Chimes from Shakespeare. A Text Book of Choice 
 
 Extracts from his Works. 
 
 11. Birth-Day Chimes from Burns. Selections from the Poems, 
 
 Songs, and Ballade of Robert Burns. 
 
 12. What salth the Master? A Daily Text Book in the very Word* 
 
 of our Lord Selected by MAT OOCHRAJTX. 
 
 IS Birth- Day Texts from Wordsworth. Passages for Every Day in 
 the Year, from the Poems of William Wordsworth. 
 
 14. Birth-Day Chimes from Scott. Selected from the Poems and 
 
 Tales of Sir Walter Scott 
 
 15. Birth-Day Chimes from Whittler. Selections from the Poems of 
 
 John Qreenleaf Whittier. By J. R. E. P. 
 
 16. The Keats Birth-Day Book. Compiled by J. R. E. P. 
 
 17. The Mizpah Birth-Day Book. Daily Texts chosen from Holy 
 
 Scriptures. 
 
 18. The Birth-Day Book of Proverbs. Serious Humorous 
 
 Satirical. Edited by CHARLES BRUCK. 
 
 19. Birth-Day Chimes from Tennyson, Selections from the Poems 
 
 of Alfred Tennyson. By MABT DOKALD. 
 
 20. Robert Browning Year-Bopk. Selected by J. R. Turra. 
 
 21. Crowning Mercies. Cheering Texts from Holy Scriptures, with 
 
 appropriate Hymn Verses. Selected by MAKY DONALD. 
 
 LIST OF STYLES AND PRICES. 
 
 Cloth Extra, gilt edges, 
 
 ,, full gilt aide and edged, 
 
 ,, padded (boxed), . 
 
 Paste Grain, round corner*, 
 
 ,, ,, padded, . 
 
 Armadillo, ,, 
 
 Morocco, padded. .... 
 
 Qrman Calf, padded, 
 
 Tartan (Noa. 11 and 14 only), . 
 
 price
 
 16 W. P, Nimrao, Hay, ft Mitchell's Catalogue 
 NIMMO'S SIXPENNY BIRTH-DAY BOOKS. 
 
 In foolieap 16w, cloth extra, red edyet, price 6d.; and m Persian 
 calf, gilt edyes, It. 
 
 1. HEAVENLY LIGHT. Cheering Texts from Scripture. A Birth- 
 Day Book for Every Day in the Year. 
 
 i. BIRTH-DAT ECHOES FROM THE POETS. A Selection of Choice 
 Quotations, arranged for Every Day in the Year. 
 
 5. OAILT MAXIMS. A Birth-Day Test Book of Proverbs and Wise 
 
 SayingB. Selected from Various Sources. 
 
 ft. THORN BLOSSOM. Quotations Grave and Gay, arranged as a 
 Birth-Day Text Book. 
 
 0. SCRIPTURE SUNBEAMS. Helpful Texts for Every Day In the 
 
 Year. 
 
 6. THE BIRTH-DAT GARLAND AND LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
 
 Snatches from the Poets in Praise of Flowers. 
 
 7. BIRTH-DAT WISHES FROM BURNS. (Also in Tartan, price IB.) 
 
 8. THE JEWEL BIRTH-DAY BOOK Compiled by Mary Donald. 
 
 9. THE BIRTH-DAT BOOK OF RIDDLES AND GUESSES. Compiled 
 
 by MART DONALD. 
 
 10. LITTLE BRIGHTETES BIRTH-DAT BOOK. Compiled by MART 
 
 DONALD. 
 
 11. BIRTH-DAY WISHES FROM SCOTT. Selections from the Poems 
 
 and Tales of Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 DEVOTIONAL TEXT- BOOKS. 
 
 New Editions, crown 32mo, printed on antique laid paper, and neatly 
 bound in cloth, price 6d. each ; also in paste grain, gilt edget, It. 
 
 1. SAINTLY WORDS. Being 
 Devout Thoughts gathered 
 from the Writings of 
 A'Kinpis, AUGUSTINE, and 
 JEREMY TAYLOR. 
 
 t. LIGHT FROM THE SACRED 
 PAGE. Being a Keligious 
 Text-Book in the very Words 
 of Scripture. 
 
 g. WATCHWORDS FOR 
 CHBI8TIAN LIVING. 
 Being Good Thoughts 
 selected from th Best Re- 
 ligious Writers. 
 
 4. ACROSS THE RIVER. Scrip- 
 tural Views of the Heavenly 
 Home. By Dr. NORMAN 
 MACLEOD, Dr. CANBI.ISH, etc. 
 Miniature Edition Abridged. 
 
 5. OOUNSEL AND COMFORT 
 FOB DAILY LIFE. 
 Selected from the Works of 
 the Best Keligious Writers.