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 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AXD SOXS 
 EDmBURGH AXD LONDON
 
 
 
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 4
 
 CONTENTS OF THE FIEST VOLUME. 
 
 BOURGONBF. 
 
 THOMAS. 
 
 THE BRIGAND'S BRIDE. 
 
 THE MISOGYNIST. 
 
 A FETISH CITY. 
 
 THE GASCON O'DRISCOL. 
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER, 
 
 KING BEMBAS POINT. 
 
 A VENDETTA. 
 
 MASTER TOMMY'S EXPERIMENT. 
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FRAUD.
 
 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 BOURGONEF. 
 
 [MAGA. March and April 1SS4.] 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AT A TABLE d'hOTB. 
 
 AT the close of February 1848 I was in jSTvirem- 
 berg. My original intention had been to pass 
 a couple of clays there, on my way to ^lunich ; that 
 l^eing, I thought, as much time as could reasonably 
 be spared for so small a city, beckoned as my foot- 
 steps were to the Bavarian Athens, of Avhose glories 
 of ancient art and German Renaissance I had formed 
 expectations the most exaggerated — expectations fatal 
 to any perfect enjoyment, and certain to be disap- 
 pointed, however great the actual merit of Munich 
 might be. But after two days at Nuremberg, I was 
 so deeply interested in its antique sequestered life, 
 T.s. — I. A
 
 2 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 the charms of which had not been deadened by pre- 
 vious anticipations, that I resolved to remain there 
 until I had mastered every detail, and knew the 
 place by heart. 
 
 I have a story to tell which will move amidst 
 tragic circumstances of too engrossing a nature to be 
 disturbed by archa?ological interests, and shall not, 
 therefore, minutely describe here what I observed at 
 Nuremberg, although no adequate description of that 
 wonderful city has yet fallen in my way. To readers 
 unacquainted with this antique place, it will be enough 
 to say that in it the old German life seems still to a 
 great extent rescued from the all-devouring, all-equal- 
 ising tendencies of European civilisation. The houses 
 are either of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, or 
 are constructed after those ancient models. The 
 citizens have preserved much of the simple manners 
 and customs of their ancestors. The hurrving feet 
 of commerce and curiosity pass rapidly by, leaving 
 it sequestered from the agitations and the turmoils of 
 metropolitan existence. It is as quiet as a village. 
 During my stay there rose in its quiet streets the 
 startled echoes of horror at a crime unparalleled in 
 its annals, which, gathering increased horror from 
 the very peacefulness and serenity of the scene, ar- 
 rested the attention and the sympatliy in a degree 
 seldom experienced. Before narrating that, it will 
 be necessary to go back a little, that my own connec- 
 tion with it may be intelligible, especially in the
 
 130URG0NEF. 3 
 
 fanciful weaving together of remote conjectures which 
 strangely involved me in the story. 
 
 The table dlwte at the Bayerischer Hof had about 
 thirty visitors — all, with one exception, of that local 
 commonplace which escapes remark. Indeed this 
 may almost always be said of tables d'hote ; though 
 there is a current belief, which I cannot share, of a 
 table dilute being very delightful — of " one being 
 certain to meet pleasant people there." It may be 
 so. For many years I believed it was so. Tlie 
 general verdict received my assent. I had never 
 met those delightful people, but was always expect- 
 ing to meet them. Hitherto they had been con- 
 spicuous by their absence. According to my ex- 
 perience in Spain, France, and Germany, such 
 dinners had been dreary, or noisy and vapid. If 
 the guests were English, they were chillingly silent, 
 or surlily monosyllabic : to their neighbours they 
 were frigid ; amongst each other they spoke in low 
 under-tones. And if the guests were foreigners, they 
 were noisy, clattering, and chattering, foolish for ' the 
 most part, and vivaciously commonplace. I don't 
 know which made me feel most dreary. The pre- 
 dominance of my countrymen gave the dinner the 
 gaiety of a funeral ; the predominance of the Mossoo 
 gave it the fatigue of got-up enthusiasm or trivial 
 expansiveness. To hear strangers imparting the 
 scraps of erudition and connoisseurship which they 
 had that morning gathered from their valets de place
 
 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 and guide-books, or describing the sights they had 
 just seen, to you, who either saw them yesterday or 
 would see them to-morrow, could not be permanently 
 attractive. My mind refuses to pasture on such food 
 with gusto. I cannot be made to care what the Herr 
 Baron's sentiments about Albert Diirer or Lucas 
 Cranach may be. I can digest my rindfleisclt with- 
 out the aid of the commis voyageur's criticisms on 
 Gothic architecture. This may be my misfortune. 
 In spite of the Italian blood which I inherit, I am a 
 shy man — shy as the purest Briton. But, like other 
 shy men, I make up in obstinacy what may be defi- 
 cient in expansiveness. I can be frightened into 
 silence, but I won't be dictated to. You might as 
 well attempt the persuasive effect of your eloquence 
 upon a snail who has withdra^vn into his shell at 
 your approach, and will not emerge till his confidence 
 is restored. To be told that I iimst see this, and 
 ought to go there, because my casual neighbour was 
 charme, has never presented itself to me as an ade- 
 quate motive. 
 
 From this you readily gather that I am severely 
 taciturn at a tahU d'hote. I refrain from joining in 
 the " delightful conversation " which flies across the 
 table, and know that my reticence is attributed to 
 "insular pride." It is really and truly nothing but 
 impatience of commonplace. I thoroughly enjoy 
 good talk ; but, ask yourself, what are the pro- 
 babilities of hearing that rare thing in the casual
 
 BOUEGONEF. 5 
 
 assemblage of forty or fifty people, not brought 
 together by any natural affinities or interests, but 
 thrown together by the accident of being in the 
 same district, and in the same hotel 1 They are not 
 *' forty feeding like one," but like forty. They have 
 no community, except the community of common- 
 place. No ; tables d'hute are not delightful, and do 
 not gather interesting people together. 
 
 Such has been my extensive experience. But this 
 at Nuremberg is a conspicuous exception. At that 
 table there was one guest who, on various grounds, 
 personal and incidental, remains the most memorable 
 man I ever met. From the first he riveted my at- 
 tention in an unusual degree. He had not, as yet, 
 induced me to emerge from my habitual reserve, for 
 in truth, although he riveted my attention, he in- 
 spired me with a strange feeling of repulsion. I 
 could scarcely keep my eyes from him ; yet, except 
 the fjDrmal bow on sitting down and rising from 
 the table, I had interchanged no sign of fellowship 
 with him. He Avas a young Eussian, named Bour- 
 gonef, as I at once learned ; rather handsome, and 
 peculiarly arresting to the eye, partly from an air 
 of settled melancholy, especially in his smile, the 
 amiability of which seemed breaking from under 
 clouds of grief, and still more so from the mute 
 appeal to sympathy in the empty sleeve of his right 
 arm, which was looped to the breast - button of his 
 coat. His eyes were large and soft. He had no
 
 G TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 beard or whisker, and only delicate moustaches. 
 The sorrow, quiet but profound, the amiable smile, 
 and the lost arm, were appealing details which at 
 once arrested attention and excited sympathy. But 
 to me this sympathy was mingled with a vague 
 repulsion, occasioned by a certain falseness in the 
 amiable smile, and a furtiveness in the eyes, which 
 I saw — or fancied — and which, with an inexplicable 
 reserve, forming as it were the impregnable citadel 
 in the centre of his outwardly polite and engaging 
 manner, gave me something of that vague impres- 
 sion which we express by the words "instinctive 
 antipathy." 
 
 It was, when calmly considered, eminently absurd. 
 To see one so young, and by his conversation so 
 highly cultured and intelligent, condemned to early 
 helplessness, his food cut up for him by a servant, 
 as if he were a child, naturally engaged pity, and, 
 on the first day, I cudgelled my brains during the 
 greater part of dinner in the effort to account for his 
 lost arm. He was obviously not a military man : the 
 unmistakable look and stoop of a student told that 
 plainly enough. 'Not was the loss one dating from 
 early life : he used his left arm too awkwardly for 
 the event not to have had a recent date. Had it 
 anything to do with his melancholy 1 Here was a 
 topic for my vagabond imagination, and endless were 
 the romances woven by it during my silent dinner. 
 For the reader must be told of one peculiarity in me,
 
 BOUEGONEF. 7 
 
 because to it much of the strange compHcations of 
 my story are clue ; compHcations into which a mind 
 less active in weaving imaginary hypotheses to inter- 
 pret casual and trifling facts would never have been 
 drawn. Erom my childhood I liave been the victim 
 of my constructive imagination, which has led me 
 into many mistakes and some scrapes ; because, 
 instead of contenting myself with plain, obvious 
 evidence, I have allowed myself to frame hypothet- 
 ical interpretations, which, to acts simple in them- 
 selves, and explicable on ordinary motives, have 
 assigned hidden and extraordinary motives, render- 
 ing the simple- seeming acts portentous. With bitter 
 pangs of self-reproach I have at times discovered that 
 a long and plausible history constructed by me, relat- 
 ing to personal friends, has crumbled into a ruin of 
 absurdity, by the disclosure of the primary miscon- 
 ception on which the whole history was based. I 
 have gone, let us say, on the supposition that two 
 people were secretly lovers ; on this supposition my 
 imagination has constructed a whole scheme to ex- 
 plain certain acts, and one fine day I have discovered 
 indubitably that the supposed lovers were not lovers, 
 but confidants of their passions in other directions, 
 and of course all my conjectures have been utterly 
 false. The secret flush of shame at failure has not, 
 however, prevented my falling into similar mistakes 
 immediately after. 
 
 When, therefore, I hereafter speak of my " con-
 
 8 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 structive imagination," the reader will knoAV to wliat 
 I am alluding. It was already busy with Bourgonef. 
 To it must be added that vague repulsion, previously 
 mentioned. This feeling abated on the second day ; 
 but, although lessened, it remained powerful enough 
 to prevent my speaking to him. AVhether it would 
 have continued to abate imtil it disappeared, as such 
 antipathies often disappear, under the familiarities of 
 prolonged intercourse, without any immediate appeal 
 to my amour propre, I know not ; but every reflec- 
 tive mind, conscious of being accessible to anti- 
 pathies, will remember that one certain method of 
 stifling them is for the object to make some appeal 
 to our interest or our vanity : in the engagement of 
 these more ];)owerful feelings, the antipathy is quickly 
 strangled. At any rate it is so in my case, and was 
 so now. On the third day, the conversation at table 
 happening to turn, as it often turned, upon St 
 Sebald's Church, a young Frenchman, who was criti- 
 cising its architecture with fluent dogmatism, drew 
 Bourgonef into the discussion, and thereby elicited 
 such a display of accurate and extensive knowledge, 
 no less than delicacy of appreciation, that we were 
 all listening spell -bound. In the midst of this 
 triumphant exposition the irritated vanity of the 
 Frenchman could do nothing to regain his position 
 but oppose a flat denial to a historical statement 
 made by Bourgonef, backing his denial by the confi- 
 dent assertion that " all the competent authorities "
 
 BOURGONEF, 9 
 
 held with him. At this point Bourgonef appealed to 
 me, and in that tone of deference so exquisitely flat- 
 tering from one Ave already know to be superior, he 
 requested my decision ; observing that, from the 
 manner in which he had seen me examine the details 
 of the architecture, he could not bo mistaken in his 
 confidence that I was a connoisseur. All eyes were 
 turned upon me. As a shy man, this made me 
 blush; as a vain man, the blush was accompanied 
 with delight. It might easily have happened that 
 such an appeal, acting at once upon shyness and 
 ignorance, would have inflamed my wrath ; but the 
 appeal happening to be directed on a point which I 
 had recently investigated and thoroughly mastered, 
 I was flattered at the opportunity of a victorious 
 display. 
 
 The pleasure of my triumph diff'used itself over my 
 feelings towards him who had been the occasion of it. 
 The Frenchman was silenced ; the general verdict of 
 the company was too obviously on our side. From 
 this time the conversation continued between Bour- 
 gonef and myself ; and he not only succeeded in 
 entirely dissipating my absurd antipathy — which I 
 now saw to have been founded on purely imaginary 
 grounds, for neither the falseness nor the furtiveness 
 could now be detected — but he succeeded in captiv- 
 ating all my sympathy. Long after dinner was over, 
 and the salle empty, we sat smoking our cigars, and 
 discussing politics, literature, and art in that sug-
 
 10 TALES FEOM " BLACKAVOOD." 
 
 gestive desultory maimer which often gives a charm 
 to casual acquaintances. 
 
 It was a stirring epoch, that of February 1848. 
 The Eevolution, at first so hopeful and soon to mani- 
 fest itself in failure so disastrous, was hurrying to an 
 outburst. France had been for many months agi- 
 tated by cries of electoral reform, and by indignation 
 at the corruption and scandals in high places. The 
 Praslin murder, and the dishonour of M. Teste, ter- 
 minated by suicide, had been interpreted as signs 
 of the coming destruction. The political banquets 
 given in various important cities had been occasions 
 for inflaming the public mind, and to the far-seeing, 
 these banquets were interpreted as the sounds of the 
 tocsin. Louis Philippe had become odious to France, 
 and contemptible to Europe. Guizot and Duchatel, 
 the ministers of that day, although backed by a 
 parliamentary majority on which they blindly relied, 
 were unpopular, and -were regarded as infatuated even 
 by their admirers in Europe. The Spanish Marriages 
 had all but led to a war with England. The Op- 
 position, headed by Thiers and Odillon Barrot, was 
 strengthened by united action with the republican 
 party, headed by Ledru Kollin, Marrast, Flocon, and 
 Louis Blanc. 
 
 Bourgoncf was an ardent republican. So was 1 ; 
 but my colour was of a difl"erent shade from his. He 
 belonged to the Eeds. j\Iy own dominant tendencies 
 being artistic and literary, my dream was of a repub-
 
 BOUKGONEF. 11 
 
 lie in which Intelligence woiild be the archon or 
 ruler ; and of course in such a repuljlic, art and liter- 
 ature, as the highest manifestation of mind, would 
 have the supreme direction. Do you smile, reader 1 
 I smile, now ; but it was serious earnest with me 
 then. It is unnecessary to say more on this point. 
 I have said so much to render intelligible the stray 
 link of communion which riveted the charm of my 
 new acquaintance's conversation ; there was both 
 agreement enough and difference enovigh in our 
 views to render our society mutually fascinating. 
 
 On retiring to my room that afternoon I could not 
 help laughing at my absurd antipathy against Bour- 
 gonef. All his remarks had disclosed a generous, 
 ardent, and refined nature. While my antipathy 
 had specially fastened lapon a certain falseness in 
 his smile — a falseness the more poignantly hideous 
 if it were falseness, because hidden amidst the 
 wreaths of amiability — my delight in his conversa- 
 tion had specially justified itself by the truthfulness 
 of his mode of looking at things. He seemed to be 
 sincerity itself. There was, indeed, a certain central 
 reserve ; but that might only be an integrity of pride ; 
 or it might be connected with painful circumstances 
 in his history, of which the melancholy in his face 
 was the outward sign. 
 
 That very evening my constructive imagination 
 was furnished with a detail on which it was soon to 
 be actively set to work. I had been rambling about
 
 12 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 the old fortifications, and was returning at nightfall 
 through the old archway near Albert Diirer's house, 
 when a man passed by me. We looked at each other 
 in that automatic way in which men look when they 
 meet in narrow places ; and I felt, so to speak, a start 
 of recognition in the eyes of the man who passed. 
 JSTothing else, in features or gestures, betrayed recog- 
 nition or surprise. But although there was only 
 that, it flashed from his eyes to mine like an elec- 
 tric shock. He passed. I looked back. He con- 
 tinued his way Avithout turning. The face was 
 certainly known to me ; bvit it floated in a mist of 
 confused memories. 
 
 I walked on slowly, pestering my memory with 
 fruitless calls upon it, hopelessly trying to recover the 
 place wliere I could have seen the stranger before. 
 In vain memory travelled over Europe in concert- 
 rooms, theatres, shops, and railway carriages. I 
 could not recall the occasion on which those eyes 
 had previously met mine. That they had met them 
 I had no doubt. I went to bed with the riddle 
 undiscovered. 
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 THE ECHOES OF MURDER. 
 
 I^ext morning ISTuremberg was agitated with a 
 horror such as can seldom have disturbed its quiet ; 
 a young and lovely girl had been murdered. Her
 
 BOURGONEF. 13 
 
 corpse was discovered at daybreak under the archway 
 leading to the old fortifications. She had been stabbed 
 to the heart, ^o other signs of violence were visible ; 
 no robbery had been attempted. 
 
 In great cities, necessarily great centres of crime, 
 we daily hear of murders ; their frequency and re- 
 moteness leave us undisturbed. Our sympathies can 
 only be deeply moved either by some scenic pecu- 
 liarities investing the crime with unusual romance 
 or unusual atrocity, or else by the more immediate 
 appeal of direct neighbourly interest. The murder 
 Avhich is read of in the ' Times ' as having occurred 
 in Westminster, has seldom any special horror to the 
 inhabitants of Islington or Oxford Street ; but to the 
 inhabitants of Westminster, and especially to the 
 inhabitants of the particular street in Avhich it was 
 perpetrated, the crime assumes heart-shaking pro- 
 portions. Every detail is asked for, and every sur- 
 mise listened to, with feverish eagerness — is repeated 
 and difi"used through the crowd with growing interest. 
 The family of the victim ; the antecedents of the 
 assassin, if he is known ; or the conjectures pointing 
 to the unknown assassin, — are eagerly discussed. All 
 the trivial details of household care or domestic for- 
 tunes, all the items of jjersonal gossip, become in- 
 vested with a solemn and afi"ecting interest. Pity 
 for the victim and survivors mingle and alternate 
 with fierce cries for vengeance on the guilty. The 
 whole street becomes one family, commingled by an
 
 14 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 energetic sympathy, united by one common feeling 
 of compassion and wrath. 
 
 In villages, and in cities so small as Nuremberg, 
 the same community of feelmg is manifested. The 
 town became as one street. The horror spread like a 
 conflagration, the sympathy surged and swelled like a 
 tide. Every one felt a personal interest in the event, 
 as if the murder had been committed at his own 
 door. Never shall I forget that wail of passionate 
 pity, and that cry for the vengeance of justice, which 
 rose from all sides of the startled city. Never shall 
 I forget the hurry, the agitation, the feverish restless- 
 ness, the universal communicativeness, the volunteered 
 services, the eager suggestion, surging round the house 
 of the unhappy parents. Herr Lehfeldt, the father 
 of the unhappy girl, was a respected burgher, known 
 to almost every one. His mercer's shop was the 
 leading one of the city. A worthy pious man, some- 
 what strict, but of irreproachable character ; his vir- 
 tues, no less than those of his wife, and of his only 
 daughter Lieschen — now, alas ! for ever snatched 
 from their yearning eyes — were canvassed every- 
 where, and served to intensify the general grief. 
 That such a calamity should have fallen on a house- 
 hold so estimable, seemed to add fuel to the people's 
 wrath. Poor Lieschen ! her pretty, playful ways — 
 her opening prospects, as the only daughter of parents 
 so well to do and so kind — her youth and abounding 
 life — these were detailed with impassioned fervour
 
 BOUKGONEF. 15 
 
 by friends, and repeated by strangers who caught 
 the tone of friends, as if they, too, had known and 
 loved her. Eut amidst the surging uproar of this 
 sea of many voices no one clear voice of direction 
 could be heard ; no clue given to the clamorous 
 bloodhounds to run down the assassin. 
 
 Cries had been heard in the streets that night at 
 various parts of the town, which, although then 
 interpreted as the quarrels of drunken brawlers, 
 and the conflicts of cats, were now confidently as- 
 serted to have proceeded from the unhappy girl in 
 her death-struggle. But none of these cries had been 
 heard in the immediate neighbourhood of the arch- 
 way. All the inhabitants of that part of the town 
 agreed that in their waking hours the streets had 
 been perfectly still. !Nor were tliere any traces 
 visible of a struggle having taken place. Lieschen 
 might have been murdered elsewhere, and her corpse 
 quietly deposited where it was found, as far as any 
 evidence went. 
 
 Wild and vague were the conjectures. All were 
 baflled in the attempt to give them a definite direc- 
 tion. The crime was apparently prompted by revenge 
 —certainly not by lust, or desire of money. But she 
 was not known to have a single rival or enemy. She 
 was not known to stand in any one's way. In this 
 utter blank as to the assignable motive, I, perhaps 
 alone among the furious crowd, had a distinct sus- 
 picion of the assassin. ISTo sooner had the news
 
 16 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 reached me, than with the specification of the theatre 
 of the crime there at once flashed upon me the 
 intellectual vision of the criminal : the stranger, with 
 the dark beard and startled eyes, stood confessed be- 
 fore me ! I held my breath for a few moments, and 
 then there came a tide of objections rushing over my 
 mind, revealing the inadequacy of the grounds on 
 which rested my suspicions. What were those 
 grounds 1 I had seen a man in a particular spot, 
 not an unfrequented spot, on the evening of the 
 night when a crime had been committed there ; that 
 man had seemed to recognise me, and wished to 
 avoid being recognised. Obviously these grounds 
 were too slender to bear any weight of construction 
 such as I had based on them. Mere presence on the 
 spot could no more inculpate him than it could in- 
 culpate me ; if I had met him there, equally had he 
 met me there. Nor even if my suspicion were correct 
 that he knew me, and refused to recognise me, could 
 that be any argument tending to criminate him in an 
 affair wholly disconnected with me. Besides, he was 
 walking peaceably, openly, and he looked like a 
 gentleman. All these objections pressed themselves 
 upon me, and kept me silent. But in spite of their 
 force, I could not prevent the suspicion from con- 
 tinually arising. Ashamed to mention it, because it 
 must have sounded too absurd, I could not prevent 
 my constructive imagination indulging in its vagaries ; 
 and with this secret conviction I resolved to await
 
 BOURGONEF. 1 7 
 
 events, and in case suspicion from other quarters 
 should ever designate the probable assassin, I might 
 then come forward with my bit of corroborative 
 evidence, should the suspected assassin be the stranger 
 of the archway. 
 
 By twelve o'clock a new direction was given to 
 rumour. Hitherto the stories, when carefully sifted 
 of all the exaggerations of flying conjecture, had 
 settled themselves into something like this : The 
 Lehfeldts had retired to rest at a quarter before ten, 
 as was their custom. They had seen Lieschen go 
 into her bedroom for the night, and had themselves 
 gone to sleep with unclouded minds. From this 
 peaceful security they were startled early in the 
 morning by the appalling news of the calamity which 
 had fallen on them. Incredulous at first, as well they 
 might be, and incapable of believing in a ruin so un- 
 expected and so overwhelming, they imagined some 
 mistake, asserting that Lieschen was in her own 
 room. Into that room they rushed, and there the 
 undisturbed bed, and the open window, but a few 
 feet from the garden, silently and pathetically dis- 
 closed the fatal truth. The bereaved parents turned 
 a revealing look upon each other's Avhitened faces, 
 and then slowly retired from the room, folloAved in 
 affecting silence by the others. Back into their own 
 room they went. The father knelt beside the bed, 
 and, sobbing, prayed. The mother sat staring with 
 a stupefied stare, her lips faintly moving. In a short 
 
 T.s. — I. B
 
 18 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 while the flood of grief, awakened to a thorough con- 
 sciousness, burst from their labouring hearts. "When 
 the first paroxysms were over they Cjuestioned others, 
 and gave incoherent replies to the questions addressed 
 to them. From all which it resulted that Lieschen's 
 absence, though obviously voluntary, was wholly in- 
 explicable to them ; and no clue whatever could be 
 given as to the motives of the crime. When these 
 details became known, conjecture naturally inter- 
 preted Lieschen's absence at night as an assignation. 
 But with whom 1 She was not known to have a 
 lover. Her father, on being questioned, passionately 
 affirmed that she had none ; she loved no one but 
 her parents, poor child ! Her mother, on being ques- 
 tioned, told the same story — adding, however, that 
 about seventeen months before, she had fancied that 
 Lieschen was a little disposed to favour Franz Kerkel, 
 their shopman ; but on being spoken to on the subject 
 with some seriousness, and warned of the distance 
 between them, she had laughed heartily at the idea, 
 and since then had treated Franz with so much in- 
 difference, that only a week ago she had drawn from 
 her mother a reproof on the subject. 
 
 " I told her Franz was a good lad, though not 
 good enough for her ; and that she ought to treat 
 him kindly. But she said my lecture had given her 
 an alarm, lest Franz sliould have got tlie same maggot 
 into his head." 
 
 This was the story now passing through the curi-
 
 BOUEGONEF. 19 
 
 ous crowds in every street. After hearing it I had 
 turned into a tobacconist's in the Adlergasse, to 
 restock my cigar-case, and found there, as every- 
 where, a group discussing the one topic of the hour. 
 Ilerr Fischer, the tobacconist, with a long porcelain 
 pipe pendent from his screwed-up lips, was solemnly 
 listening to the particulars volubly communicated 
 by a stout Bavarian priest ; while behind the counter, 
 in a corner, swiftly knitting, sat his wife, her black 
 bead-like eyes also fixed on the orator. Of course I 
 was dragged into the conversation. Instead of at- 
 tending to commercial interests, they looked upon me 
 as the possible bearer of fresh neAvs. Nor was it 
 Avithout a secret satisfaction that I found I could 
 gratify them in that respect. They had not heard of 
 Franz Kerkel in the matter. Xo sooner had I told 
 wliat I had heard, than the knitting-needles of the 
 vivacious little Avoman were at once suspended. 
 
 " Ach Je ! " she exclaimed, " I see it all. lie's the 
 wretch ! " 
 
 '' Who ] " we all simultaneously inquired. 
 
 " Who 1 Why, Kerkel, of course. If she 
 changed, and treated him Avith indifference, it Avas 
 because she loved him ; and he has murdered the 
 poor thing." 
 
 " HoAv you run on, Avife ! " remonstrated Fischer ; 
 Avhile the priest shook a dubious head. 
 
 " I tell you it is so. I'm positive." 
 
 '• If she loved him."
 
 20 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " She (lid, I tell yon. Trust a woman for seeing 
 through such things." 
 
 " Well, say she did," continued Fischer, " and I 
 won't deny that it may he so ; hut then that makes 
 against the idea of his having done her any harm." 
 
 " Don't tell me," retorted the convinced woman. 
 " She loved him. She went out to meet him in 
 secret, and he murdered her — the villain did. I'm 
 as sure of it as if these eyes had seen him do it." 
 
 The hushand winked at us, as much as to say, 
 " You hear these women ! " and the priest and I en- 
 deavoured to reason her out of her illogical position. 
 But she was immovahle. Iverkel had murdered her ; 
 she knew it ; she couldn't tell why, but she knew it. . 
 Perhaps he was jealous ; who knows 1 At any rate 
 he ought to be arrested. 
 
 And by twelve o'clock, as I said, a new rumour ran 
 through the crowd, which seemed to confirm the little 
 woman in her rash logic. Kerkel had been arrested, 
 and a waistcoat stained Avith blood had been found in 
 his room ! By half-past twelve the rumour ran that 
 he had confessed the crime. This, however, proved 
 on inquiry to be the hasty anticipation of public in- 
 dignation. He had been arrested ; the waistcoat had 
 been found : so much was authentic ; and the suspi- 
 cions gathered ominously over him. 
 
 AVhen first Frau Fischer had started the suggestion 
 it flew like wildfire. Then people suddenly noticed, 
 as very surprising, that Kerkel had not that day made
 
 BOUEGONEF. 2 1 
 
 liis appearance at the sliop. His absence had not 
 been noticed in the tumult of grief and inquiry ; but 
 it became suddenly invested Avith a dreadful signifi- 
 cance, now that it was rumoured that he had been 
 Lieschen's lover. Of all men he would be the most 
 affected by the tragic news; of all men he would have 
 been the first to tender sympathy and aid to the 
 afflicted parents, and the most clamorous in the search 
 for the undiscovered culprit. Yet, while all !N"urem- 
 berg was crowding round the house of sorrow, Avhich 
 was also his house of business, he alone remained 
 away. This naturally pointed suspicion at him. 
 "When the messengers had gone to seek him, his 
 mother refused them admission, declaring in inco- 
 lierent phrases, betraying great agitation, that her son 
 was gone distracted with grief, and could see no one. 
 On this it was determined to order his arrest. The 
 police went, the house was searched, and the waist- 
 coat found. 
 
 The testimony of the girl who lived as servant in 
 Kerkel's house was also criminatory. She deposed 
 that on the night in question she awoke about half- 
 past eleven with a violent toothache ; she was certain 
 as to the hour, because she heard the clock afterwards 
 strike twelve. She felt some alarm at hearing voices 
 in the rooms at an hour when her mistress and young 
 master must long ago have gone to bed ; but as the 
 voices were seemingly in quiet conversation, her alarm 
 subsided, and she concluded that instead of having
 
 22 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 gone to bed her mistress was still np. In her pain 
 she heard the door gently open, and then she heard 
 footsteps in the garden. This surprised her very 
 much. She couldn't think what the young master 
 could want going out at that hour. She became ter- 
 rified without knowing exactly at what. Fear quite 
 drove away her toothache, which had not since re- 
 turned. After lying there (|uaking for some time, 
 again she heard footsteps in the garden ; the door 
 opened and closed gently; voices were heard; and she 
 at last distinctly heard her mistress say, " Be a man, 
 Franz. Good night — sleep well ; " upon which Franz 
 replied in a tone of great agony, " There's no chance 
 of sleep for me." Then all was silent. !Xext morn- 
 ing her mistress seemed " very queer." Her young- 
 master went out very early, hut soon came hack again ; 
 and there were dreadful scenes going on in his room, 
 as she heard, but she didn't know what it was all 
 about. She heard of the murder from a neighbour, 
 but never thought of its having any particular interest 
 for Mr Franz, though, of course, he Avould be very 
 sorry for the Lehfeldts. 
 
 The facts testified to by the servant, especially 
 the going out at that late hour, and the "dreadful 
 scenes " of the morning, seemed to bear but one in- 
 terpretation. Moreover, she identified the waistcoat 
 as the one worn by Franz on the day preceding the 
 fatal night.
 
 BOUEGONEF. 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE ACCUSED. 
 
 Xow at last the pent-up wrath found a vent. 
 From the distracting condition of "wandering uncer- 
 tain suspicion, it had been recalled into the glad 
 security of individual hate. Although up to this 
 time Kerkel had borne an exemplary reputation, it 
 was now remembered that he had always been of a 
 morose and violent temper, a hypocrite in religion, a 
 selfish sensualist. Several sagacious critics had long 
 "seen through him ;" others had "never liked him;" 
 others had wondered hoAv it was he kept his place so 
 long in Lehfeldt's shop. Poor fellow ! his life and 
 actions, like those of every one else when illuminated 
 by a light thrown back upon them, seemed so con- 
 spicuously despicable, although when illuminated in 
 their own light they had seemed innocent enough. 
 His mother's frantic protestations of her son's inno- 
 cence — her assertions that Franz loved Lieschen more 
 than his own soul — only served to envelop her in the 
 silent accusation of being an accomplice, or at least of 
 being an accessory after the fact. 
 
 I cannot say why it Avas, but I did not share the 
 universal belief. The logic seemed to me forced ; the 
 evidence trivial. On first hearing of Kerkel's arrest, 
 I eagerly questioned my informant respecting his per-
 
 24 TALES FIIOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 sonal appearance ; and on hearing that he was fair, 
 with bhie eyes and flaxen hair, my conviction of his 
 innocence was fixed. Looking back on these days, I 
 am often aninsed at this characteristic of my construc- 
 tive imagination. "Wliile rejecting the disjointed 
 logic of the mob, which interpreted his guilt, I was 
 myself deluded by a logic infinitely less rational. Had 
 Kerkel been dark, with dark eyes and beard, I should 
 jDrobably have SAVorn to his guilt, simply because the 
 idea of that stranger had firmly fixed itself in my 
 mind. 
 
 All that afternoon, and all the next day, the busy 
 hum of voices Avas raised by the one topic of com- 
 manding interest. Kerkel had been examined. He 
 at once admitted that a secret betrothal had for some 
 time existed between him and Lieschen. They had 
 been led to take this improper step by fears of her 
 parents, who, had the attachment been discovered, 
 would, it was thought, have separated them for ever. 
 Herr Lehfeldt's sternness, no less than his superior 
 position, seemed an invincible obstacle ; and the good 
 mother, although doting upon her only daughter, was 
 led by the very intensity of her afi"ection to form am- 
 bitious hopes of her daughter's future. It was barely 
 possible that some turn in events might one day yield 
 an opening for their consent; but meanwhile prudence 
 dictated secrecy, in order to avert tlie most pressing- 
 danger, tliat of separation. And so the pretty Lie- 
 schen, with feminine instinct of ruse, had aff"ected to
 
 BOURGONEF. 25 
 
 treat her lover with indifference ; and to compensate 
 him and herself for this restraint, she had been in the 
 habit of escaping from home once or twice a-week, 
 and spending a delicious hour or two at night in the 
 company of her lover and his mother. Iverkel and 
 his mother lived in a cottage a little way outside the 
 town. Lehfeldt's shop stood not many yards from 
 the archway. Now, as in l!^ureniberg no one Avas 
 abroad after ten o'clock, except a few loungers at the 
 cafes and beer-houses, and these were only to be met 
 inside the town, not outside it, Lieschen ran extremely 
 little risk of being observed in her rapid transit from 
 her father's to her lover's house. Nor, indeed, had 
 she ever met any one in the course of these visits. 
 
 On the fatal night Lieschen was expected at the 
 cottage. Mother and son waited at first hopefully, 
 then anxiously, at last with some vague uneasiness at 
 her non-appearance. It was now a quarter past eleven 
 — nearly an hour later than her usual time. They 
 occasionally Avent to the door to look for her ; then 
 they walked a few yards down the road, as if to catch 
 an earlier glimpse of her advancing steps. But in 
 vain. The half-hour strvick. They came back into 
 the cottage, discussuig the various probabilities of 
 delay. Three-quarters struck. Perhaps she had 
 been detected ; perhaps she was ill ; perhaps — but 
 this was his mother's suggestion, and took little hold 
 of him — there had been visitors who had stayed later 
 than usual, and Lieschen, finding the night so far
 
 26 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 advanced, had postponed her visit to the morrow. 
 Franz, who interpreted Lieschen's feelings by his 
 own, was assured that no postponement of a volun- 
 tary kind was credible of her. Twelve o'clock struck. 
 Again Franz went out into the road, and walked 
 nearly up to the archway; he returned with heavy 
 sadness and foreboding at his heart, reluctantly ad- 
 mitting that now all hope of seeing her that night 
 was over. That night 1 Poor sorrowing heart, the 
 night was to be eternal ! The anguish of the desolate 
 " never more " Avas awaiting him. 
 
 There is something intensely pathetic in being thus, 
 as it were, spectators of a tragic drama which is being 
 acted on two separate stages at once — the dreadful 
 link of connection, which is unseen to the separate 
 actors, being only too vividly seen by the spectators. 
 It was with some such interest that I, who believed 
 in Kerkel's innocence, heard this story ; and in im- 
 agination followed its unfolding stage. He went to 
 bed, not, as may be expected, to sleep ; tossing rest- 
 lessly in feverish agitation, conjuring up many imag- 
 inary terrors — but all of them trifles compared with 
 the dread reality which he was so soon to face. He 
 pictured her weeping — and she Avas lying dead on 
 the cold pavement of the dark archway. He saw her 
 in agitated eloquence pleading with offended parents 
 — and she was removed for ever from all agitation?, 
 with the peace of death upon her young face. 
 
 At an early hour he started, that he might put an
 
 BOURGONEF. 2 . 
 
 end to his suspense. He had not yet reached the 
 archway "before the shattering news hurst upon him. 
 From that moment he remembered nothing. But 
 liis mother described his ghastly agitation, as, throw- 
 ing himself \ipon her neck, he told her, through dread- 
 ful sobs, the calamity which had fallen. She did her 
 best to comfort him ; but he grew wilder and wilder, 
 and rolled upon the ground in the agony of an im- 
 measurable despair. She trembled for his reason and 
 his life. And when the messengers came to seek 
 him, she spoke but the simple truth in saying that 
 he was like one distracted. Yet no sooner had a 
 glimpse of light dawned on him that some vague 
 suspicion rested on him in reference to the murder, 
 than he started up, flung away his agitation, and, 
 with a calmness which was awful, answered every 
 cpiestion, and seemed nerved for every trial. From 
 that moment not a sob escaped him until, in the nar- 
 rative of the night's events, he came to that part 
 which told of the sudden disclosure of his bereave- 
 ment. And the simple, straightforward manner in 
 Avhich he told this tale, with a face entirely bloodless, 
 and eyes that seemed to have withdrawn all their 
 light inwards, made a great impression on the audi- 
 tors, which Avas heightened into sympathy when the 
 final sob, breaking through the forced calmness, told 
 of the agony which was eating its fiery way through 
 the heart. 
 
 The story was not only plausible in itself, but ac-
 
 28 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 curately tallied with Avhat before had seemed like the 
 criminating evidence of the maid ; tallied, moreover, 
 precisely as to time, which would hardly have been 
 the case had the story been an invention. As to the 
 waistcoat Avhich had figured so conspicuously in all 
 the rumours, it appeared that suspicion had mon- 
 strously exaggerated the facts. Instead of a waist- 
 coat plashed with blood — as popular imagination pic- 
 tured it — it Avas a grey waistcoat, with one spot and 
 a slight smear of blood, which admitted of a very 
 simple explanation. Three days before, Franz had 
 cut his left hand in cutting some bread ; and to this 
 the maid testified, because she was present when the 
 accident occurred. He had not noticed that his waist- 
 coat was marked by it until the next day, and had 
 forgotten to wash out the stains. 
 
 People outside shook sceptical heads at this story 
 of the cut hand. The bloody waistcoat was not to be 
 disposed of in that easy way. It had fixed itself too 
 strongly in their imagination. Indeed, my belief is 
 that even could they have seen the waistcoat, its 
 insignificant marks would have apjieared murderous 
 patches to their eyes. I had seen it, and my reijort 
 was listened to with ill-concealed disbeJief, when not 
 with open protestation. And when Iverkel Avas dis- 
 charged as free from all suspicion, there was a Ioav 
 growl of disappointed wrath heard from numerous 
 gi'oups. 
 
 This may sympathetically bo imderstood by Avhom-
 
 BOURGONEF. 29 
 
 soever remembers the painful uneasiness of the mind 
 under a great stress of excitement, with no definite 
 issue. The lust for a vengeance, demanded by the 
 aroused sensibilities of compassion, makes men credu- 
 lous in their impatience ; they easily believe any one 
 is guilty, because they feel an imperious need for fast- 
 ening the guilt upon some definite head. Few ver- 
 dicts of " Not Guilty " are well received, miless an- 
 other victim is at hand upon whom the verdict of 
 guilty is likely to fall. It was demonstrable to all 
 judicial minds that Kerkel was wliolly, pathetically 
 innocent. In a few days this gradually became clear 
 to the majority, but at first it was resisted as an at- 
 tempt to balk justice ; and to the last there were 
 some obstinate doubters, who shook their heads 
 mysteriously, and said, with a certain incisiveness, 
 " Somebody must have done it ; I should very much 
 like to know who." 
 
 Suspicion once more was drifting aimlessly. 'None 
 had pointed in any new direction. iSTo mention of 
 any one whom I could identify with the stranger had 
 yet been made ; but, although silent on the subject, I 
 kept firm in my conviction, and I sometimes laughed 
 at the pertinacity with which I scrutinised the face of 
 every man I met, if he happened to have a black 
 beard ; and as black beards are excessively common, 
 my curiosity, though never gratified, Avas never al- 
 lowed repose. 
 
 Meanwhile Lieschen's funeral had been emphati-
 
 30 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 cally a public mourning. Nay, so great was the 
 emotion, that it ahnost deadened the interest, which 
 otherwise woidd have been so powerful, in the news 
 now daily reaching us from Paris. Blood had flowed 
 upon her streets — in consequence of that pistol-shot 
 which, either by accident or criminal intent, had 
 converted the demonstration before the hotel of the 
 jNIinister of Foreign Aflairs into an insurrection. 
 Paris had risen ; barricades were erected. The troops 
 were under arms. This was agitating news. 
 
 Such is the solidarity of all European nations, and 
 so quick are all to vibrate in unison with the vibra- 
 tions of each, that events like those transacted in 
 Paris necessarily stirred every city, no matter how 
 remote, nor politically how secure. And it says much 
 for the intense interest excited by the Lehfeldt 
 tragedy that Nuremberg was capable of sustaining 
 that interest even amid the tremendous pressure of 
 the February Eevolution. It is true that Nuremberg 
 is at all times somewhat sequestered frona the great 
 movements of the day, following slowly in the rear 
 of great waves ; it is true, moreover, that some poli- 
 ticians showed remarkal)le eagerness in canvassimj 
 the characters and hopes of Louis Philii>pe and 
 Guizot ; but although such events would at another 
 period have formed the universal interest, the im- 
 penetrable mystery hanging over Lieschen's death 
 tlirew the Pevolution into the background of their 
 thoughts. If when a storm is raging over the dreary
 
 BOURGONEF. 31 
 
 moorland, a human cry of suffering is heard at the 
 door, at once the thunders and the tumult sink into 
 insignificance, and are not even heard by the ear 
 which is jiierced with the feeble human voice : the 
 grandeurs of storm and tempest, the uproar of surging 
 seas, the clamorous wail of sea-birds amid the volley- 
 ing artillery of heaven, in vain assail the ear that has 
 once caught even the distant cry of a human agony, 
 or serve only as scenical accompaniments to the 
 tragedy which is foreshadowed by that cry. And so 
 it was amid the uproar of 1848. A kingdom was in 
 convulsions ; but here, at our door, a young girl had 
 Ijeen murdered, and two hearths made desolate. 
 
 Eumours continued to fly about. The assassin was 
 always about to be discovered ; but he remained 
 shrouded in impenetrable darkness. A remark made 
 by Bourgonef struck me much. Our host, Zum 
 Bayerischen Hof, one day announced with great satis- 
 faction that he had himself heard from the syndic 
 that the police were on the traces of tlie assassin. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear it," said Bourgonef. 
 
 Tlie guests paused from eating, and looked at him 
 with astonishment. 
 
 "It is a proof," he added, "that even the police 
 now give it up as hopeless. I always notice that 
 Avhenever the police are said to be on the traces the 
 malefactor is never tracked. "When they are on his 
 traces they wisely say nothing about it ; they allow it 
 to be believed that they are baffled, in order to lull
 
 32 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 their victim into a dangerous security. Wlien they 
 know themselves to be baffled, there is no danger in 
 quieting the public mind, and saving their own credit, 
 by announcing that they are about to be successful." 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 A DISCOVERY. 
 
 Bourgonefs remark had been but too sagacious. 
 The police were hopelessly baffled. In all such cases 
 possible success depends upon the initial suggestion 
 either of a motive which leads to a suspicion of the 
 person, or of some person Avhich leads to a suspicion 
 of the motive. Once set suspicion on the right track, 
 and evidence is suddenly alight in all quarters. But, 
 unhappily, in the present case there was no assignable 
 motive, no shadow darkening any person. 
 
 An episode now came to our knowledge, in Avhich 
 Bourgonef manifested an unusual depth of interest. 
 I Avas led to notice this interest, because it had 
 seemed to me that in the crime itself, and the dis- 
 cussions which arose out of it, he shared but little of 
 the universal excitement. I do not mean that he 
 was indifferent — by no means ; but the horror of the 
 crime did not seem to fascinate his imagination as it 
 fascinated ours. He could talk quite as readily of 
 other things, and far more readily of the French 
 affairs. But on the contrary, in this new episode he
 
 BOURGONEF. 33 
 
 showed peculiar interest. It appeared that Lehfeldt, 
 moved, perhaps, partly by a sense of the injustice 
 which had been done to Kerkel in even suspecting 
 him of the crime, and in submitting him to an 
 examination more poignantly affecting to him under 
 such circumstances, than a public trial would have 
 been under others ; and moved partly by the sense 
 that Lieschen's love had practically drawn Kerkel 
 within the family — for her clioioe of him as a hus- 
 band had made him morally, if not legally, a son- 
 in-law ; and moved partly by the sense of loneliness 
 which had now settled on their childless home, — 
 Lehfeldt had in the most pathetic and considerate 
 terms begged Kerkel to take the place of his adopted 
 son, and become joint partner with him in the busi- 
 ness. This, however, Kerkel had gently yet firmly 
 declined. He averred that he felt no injury, though 
 great pain had been inflicted on him by the examin- 
 ation. He himself in such a case would not have 
 shrunk from demanding that his own brother should 
 be tried, under suspicions of similar urgency. It was 
 simple justice that all who were suspected should be 
 examined ; justice also to them that they might for 
 ever clear themselves of doubtful appearances. But 
 for the rest, while he felt his old aflfectionate respect 
 for his master, he could recognise no claim to be 
 removed from his present position. Had she lived, 
 said the heart-broken youth, he would gladly have 
 consented to accept any fortune which her love might 
 T.s. — I. c
 
 34 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 bestow, because he felt that his own love, and the 
 devotion of a life, might repay it. But there was 
 nothing now that he could give in exchange. For 
 his services he was amply paid ; his feelings towards 
 Lieschen's parents must continue what they had ever 
 been. In vain Lehfeldt pleaded, in vain many friends 
 argued. Franz remained respectfully firm in his 
 refusal. 
 
 This, as I said, interested Bourgonef immensely. 
 He seemed to enter completely into the minds of the 
 sorrowing pleading parents, and the sorrowing deny- 
 ing lover. He appreciated and expounded their 
 motives with a subtlety and delicacy of perception 
 Avhich surprised and delighted me. It showed the 
 refinement of his moral nature. But, at the same 
 time, it rendered his minor degree of interest in the 
 other episodes of the story, those which had a more 
 direct and overpowering appeal to the heart, a greater 
 paradox. 
 
 Human nature is troubled in the presence of all 
 mystery which has not by long familiarity lost its 
 power of soliciting attention ; and for my own jDart, 
 I have always been uneasy in the presence of moral 
 problems. Puzzled by the contradictions which I 
 noticed in Bourgonef, I tried to discover whether he 
 had any general repugnance to stories of crimes, or 
 any special repugnance to murders, or, finally, any 
 strange repugnance to this particular case now every- 
 where discussed. And it is not a little remarkable,
 
 BOUKGONEF. 35 
 
 tluit during three separate interviews, in the course 
 of which I severally, and as I thought artfully, in- 
 troduced these topics, making them seem to arise 
 naturally out of the suggestion of our talk, I totally 
 failed to arrive at any distinct conclusion. I was 
 afraid to put the direct question : Do you not share 
 the common feeling of interest in criminal stories ? 
 This question would doiibtless have elicited a cate- 
 gorical reply ; but somehow, the consciousness of an 
 arriere-pensee made me shrink from putting such a 
 question. 
 
 Eeflecting on this indifference on a special point, 
 and on the numerous manifestations I had noticed of 
 his sensibility, I came at last to the conclusion that 
 he must be a man of tender heart, whose delicate 
 sensibilities easily shrank from the horrible under 
 every form ; and no more permitted him to dwell 
 unnecessarily upon painful facts, than they permit 
 imaginative minds to dwell on the details of an 
 operation. 
 
 I had not long settled this in my mind before an 
 accident suddenly threw a lurid light upon many 
 details noticed previously, and painfully revived that 
 inexplicable repulsion with which I had at first 
 regarded him. A new suspicion filled my mind, or 
 rather, let me say, a distinct shape was impressed 
 upon many fluctuating suspicions. It scarcely ad- 
 mitted of argument, and at times seemed preposter- 
 ous, nevertheless it persisted. The mind which in
 
 36 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 broad daylight assents to all that can be alleged 
 against the absurdities of the belief in apparitions, 
 will often acknowledge the dim terrors of darkness 
 and lonelmess — terrors at possibilities of supernatural 
 visitations. In like manner, in the clear daylight of 
 reason I could see the absurdity of my suspicion, but 
 the vague stirrings of feeling remained unsilenced. 
 I was haunted by the dim horrors of a possibility. 
 
 Thus it arose. AYe were both going to Munich, 
 and Bourgonef had shortened his contemplated stay 
 at Nuremberg that he might have the pleasure of 
 accompanying me ; adding also that he, too, should 
 be glad to reach ]\Iunich, not only for its art, but for 
 its greater command of papers and intelligence re- 
 specting what was then going on in France. On 
 the night preceding the morning of our departure, I 
 was seated in his room, smoking and discussing as 
 usual, while Ivan, his servant, packed np his things 
 in two large portmanteaus. 
 
 Ivan was a serf who spoke no word of any language 
 but his OAvn. Although of a brutal, almost idiotic 
 type, he was loudly eulogised by his master as the 
 model of fidelity and usefulness. Bourgonef treated 
 him with gentleness, though Avith a certain imperi- 
 ousness ', much as one might treat a savage mastiff 
 which it was necessary to dominate without exasper- 
 ating. He more than once spoke of Ivan as a living 
 satire on physiognomists and phrenologists ; and as I 
 am a phrenologist, I listened with some incredulity.
 
 BOURGONEF. 37 
 
 " Look at him," he would say. " Observe the Ioav 
 retreating brow, the flat face, the surly mouth, the 
 broad base of the head, and the huge bull-like neck. 
 Would not any one say Ivan was as destructive 
 as a panther, as tenacious as a bull-dog, as brutal as 
 a bull ] Yet he is the gentlest of sluggish creatures, 
 and as tender - hearted as a girl ! That thick - set 
 muscular frame shrouds a hare's heart. He is so 
 faithful and so attached, that I believe for me he 
 would risk his life ; but on no inducement could 
 you get him to place himself in danger on his own 
 account. Part of his love for me is gratitude for 
 having rescued him from the conscription : the 
 dangers incident to a military life had no charm 
 for him ! " 
 
 'Now, although Bourgonef, who was not a phreno- 
 logist, might be convinced of the absence of ferocious 
 instincts in Ivan, to me, as a phrenologist, the state- 
 ment was eminently incredible. All the appearances 
 of his manner were such as to confirm his master's 
 opinion. He was quiet, even tender in his atten- 
 tions. But the tyrannous influence of ideas and 
 physical impressions cannot be set aside ; and no 
 evidence would permanently have kept down my 
 distrust of this man. "When women shriek at the 
 sight of a gim, it is in vain that you solemnly assure 
 them the gun is not loaded. " I don't know," they 
 reply, — " at any rate, I don't like it." I was much 
 in this attitude with regard to Ivan. He might be
 
 38 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 harmless, I didn't know tliat ; what I did know 
 was — that I didn't like his looks. 
 
 On this night he Avas moving noiselessly about 
 the room employed in packing. Bourgonef's talk 
 rambled over the old themes ; and I thought I had 
 never before met with one of my own age Avhose 
 society was so perfectly delightful. He was not so 
 conspicuously my superior on all points that I felt 
 the restraints inevitably imposed by superiority ; yet 
 he was in many respects sufficiently above me in 
 knowledge and power to make me eager to have his 
 assent to my views Avhere we differed, and to have 
 him enlighten me where I knew myself to be weak. 
 
 In the very moment of my most cordial admiration 
 came a shock. Ivan, on passing from one part of the 
 room to the other, caught his foot in the strap of the 
 portmanteau and fell. The small wooden box, some- 
 thing of a glove-box, which he held in his hand at 
 the time, fell on the floor, and falling over, discharged 
 its contents close to Bourgonef's feet. The objects 
 which caught my eyes were several pairs of gloves, a 
 rouge-^iot and hare's foot, and a black beard ! 
 
 By what caprice of imagination was it that the 
 sight of this false beard lying at Bourgonef's feet 
 thrilled me with horror] In one lightning-flash I 
 beheld the archway — the stranger with the startled 
 eyes — this stranger no longer unknown to me, but 
 too fatally recognised as Bourgonef — and at his feet 
 the murdered girl !
 
 BOURGONEF, 39 
 
 Moved by what subtle springs of suggestion I 
 know not, but there before nie stood that dreadful 
 vision, seen in a lurid light, but seen as clearly as if 
 the actual presence of the objects were obtruding 
 itself upon my eyes. In the inexpressible horror 
 of this vision my heart seemed clutched with an 
 icy hand. 
 
 Fortunately Bourgonef's attention was called away 
 from me. He spoke angrily some sharp sentence, 
 which of course was in Russian, and therefore un- 
 intelligible to me. He then stooped, and picking 
 up the rouge-pot, held it towards me with his melan- 
 choly smile. He was very red in the face ; but that 
 may have been either anger, or the effect of sudden 
 stooping. " I see you are surprised at these masquer- 
 ading follies," he said in a tone which, though Ioav, 
 was perfectly calm. " You must not suppose that I 
 beautify my sallow cheeks on ordinary occasions." 
 
 He then quietly handed the pot to Ivan, who re- 
 placed it with the gloves and the beard in the box ; 
 and after making an inquiry which sounded like a 
 growl, to Avhich Bourgonef answered negatively, he 
 continued his packing. 
 
 Bourgonef resumed his cigar and his argument as 
 if nothing had happened. 
 
 The vision had disappeared, bu.t a confused mass of 
 moving figures took its place. My heart throbbed 
 so violently that it seemed as if its tumult must be 
 heard by others. Yet my face must have been
 
 40 TALES FKOxM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 tolerably calm, since Bourgonef made no comment 
 on it. 
 
 I answered his remarks in vague fragments, for, in 
 truth, my thoughts were flying from conjectiire to 
 conjecture. I remembered that the stranger had a 
 florid complexion ; was this rouge 1 It is true that I 
 fancied that the stranger carried a walking-stick in 
 his right hand ; if so, this was enough to crush all 
 suspicions of his identity with Bourgonef ; but then 
 I Avas rather hazy on this point, and probably did 
 not observe a Avalkmg-stick. 
 
 After a Avliile my inattention struck him, and 
 looking at me with some concern, he inquired if 
 there were anything the matter. I pleaded a colic, 
 which I attributed to the imprudence of having in- 
 dulged in sauerkraut at dinner. He advised me to 
 take a little brandy ; but, afi'ecting a fresh access of 
 pain, I bade him good -night. He hoped I should 
 be all right on the morrow — if not, he added, we can 
 postpone our journey till the day after. 
 
 Once in my own room I bolted the door, and 
 sat down on the edge of the bed in a tumult of 
 excitement. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 FLUCTUATIONS. 
 
 Alone with my thoughts, and capable of pursuing 
 conjectures and conclusions without external intei:-
 
 BOURGONEF. 41 
 
 ruption, I quickly exhausted all the hypothetical 
 possibilities of the case, and, from having started 
 with the idea that Bourgonef was the assassin, I came 
 at last to the more sensible conclusion that I was a 
 constructive blockhead. My suspicions were simply 
 outrageous in their defect of evidence, and could 
 never for one moment have seemed otherwise to any 
 imagination less riotously active than mine. 
 
 I bathed my heated head, undressed myself, and 
 got into bed, considering what I should say to the 
 police when I went next morning to communicate 
 my suspicions. And it is worthy of remark, as well 
 as somewhat ludicrously self-betraying, that no sooner 
 did I mentally see myself in the presence of the 
 police, and was thus forced to confront my suspicions 
 with some appearance of evidence, than the whole 
 fabric of my vision rattled to the ground. What 
 had I to say to the police 1 Simply that, on the 
 evening of the night when Lieschen was murdered, 
 I had passed, in a public thoroughfare, a man whom 
 I could not identify, but who, as I could not help 
 fancying, seemed to recognise me. This man, I had 
 persuaded myself, was the murderer ; for which per- 
 suasion I was unable to adduce a tittle of evidence. 
 It was uncoloured by the remotest probability. It 
 was truly and simply the suggestion of my vagrant 
 fancy, which had mysteriously settled itself into a 
 conviction ; and having thus capriciously identified 
 the stranger with Lieschen's murderer, I now, upon
 
 42 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 evidence quite as preposterous, identified Bourgonef 
 ■with the stranger. 
 
 The folly became apparent even to myself. If 
 Bourgonef had in his possession a rouge-pot and false 
 beard, I could not but acknowledge that he had made 
 no attempt to conceal them, nor had he manifested 
 any confusion on their appearance. He had quietly 
 characterised them as masquerading follies. More- 
 over, I now began to remember distinctly that the 
 stranger did carry a walking-stick in his right hand ; 
 and as Bourgonef had lost his right arm, that settled 
 the point. 
 
 Into such complications would the tricks of imagi- 
 nation lead me ! I blushed mentally, and resolved 
 to let it serve as a lesson in future. It is needless, 
 however, to say that the lesson Avas lost, as such 
 lessons always are lost ; a strong tendency in any 
 direction soon disregards all the teachings of experi- 
 ence. I am still not the less the victim of my con- 
 structive imagination, because I have frequently had 
 to be ashamed of its vagaries. 
 
 The next morning I awoke with a lighter breast, 
 rejoicing in the caution which had delayed me from 
 any rash manifestation of suspicions now seen to be 
 absurd. I smUed as the thought arose : what if this 
 suspected stranger should also be pestered by an 
 active imagination, and should entertain similar sus- 
 picions of me 1 He must have seen in my eyes the 
 look of recognition which I saw in his. On hearing
 
 BOURGONEF. 43 
 
 of the murder, our meeting may also have recurred 
 to him ; and his suspicions Avould have this colour, 
 wanting to mine, that I happen to inherit with 
 my Italian blood a somewhat truculent appearance, 
 which has gained for me among friends the playful 
 sobriquet of " the brigand." 
 
 Anxious to atone at once for my folly, and to 
 remove from his mind any misgiving — if it existed — 
 at my quitting him so soon after the disclosures of 
 the masquerading details, I went to Bourgonef as 
 soon as I was dressed, and proposed a ramble till the 
 diligence started for Munich. He was sympathetic 
 in his inquiries about my colic, which I assured him 
 had quite passed away, and out we Avent. The sharp 
 morning air of March made us walk briskly, and gave 
 a pleasant animation to our thoughts. As he dis- 
 cussed the acts of the Provisional Government, so 
 wise, temperate, and energetic, the fervour and gener- 
 osity of his sentiments stood out in such striking 
 contrast Avitli the deed I had last night recklessly 
 imputed to him, that I felt deeply ashamed, and 
 was nearly carried away by mingled admiration and 
 self-reproach to confess the absurd vagrancy of my 
 thoughts, and humbly ask his pardon. But you 
 can understand the reluctance at a confession so in- 
 sulting to him, so degrading to me. It is at all times 
 difficult to tell a man, face to face, eye to eye, the 
 evil you have thought of him, unless the recklessness 
 of anger seizes on it as a weapon with which to
 
 44 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 strike ; and I liad now so completely unsaid to my- 
 self all that I once had thought of evil, that to put it 
 in words seemed a gratuitous injury to me and insult 
 to him. 
 
 A day or two after our arrival in Munich a reaction 
 began steadily to set in. Ashamed as I was of my 
 suspicions, I could not altogether banish from my 
 mind the incident which had aAvakened them. The 
 image of that false beard would mingle with my 
 thoughts I was vaguely uncomfortable at the idea 
 of Bourgonef's carrying about with him obvious mate- 
 rials of disguise. In itself this would have had little 
 significance ; but coupled with the fact that his de- 
 voted servant was — in spite of all Bourgonef's eulogies 
 — repulsively ferocious in aspect, capable, as I could 
 not help believing, of any brutality, — the suggestion 
 was unpleasant. You Avill understand that having 
 emphatically acquitted Bourgonef in my mind, I did 
 not again distinctly charge him with any complicity 
 in the mysterious murder ; on the contrary, I should 
 indignantly have repelled such a thought : but the 
 uneasy sense of some mystery about him, coujjled 
 with the accessories of disguise, and the aspect of his 
 servant, gave rise to dim, shadowy forebodings which 
 ever and anon passed across my mind. 
 
 Did it ever occur to you, reader, to reflect on the 
 depths of deceit which lie still and dark even in the 
 honestest minds ] Society reposes on a thin crust of 
 convention, underneath Avhich lie fathomless possi-
 
 BOURGONEF. 45 
 
 bilities of crime, and consequently suspicions of crime. 
 Friendship, however close and dear, is not free from 
 its reserves, unspoken beliefs, more or less suppressed 
 opinions. The man whom you would indignantly 
 defend against any accusation brought by another, 
 so confident are you in his unshakable integrity, you 
 may yourself momentarily suspect of crimes far ex- 
 ceeding those which you repudiate. Indeed, I have 
 known sagacious men hold that perfect frankness in 
 expressing the thoughts is a sure sign of imperfect 
 friendship ; something is always suppressed ; and it 
 is not he who loves you that " tells you candidly 
 what he thinks " of your person, your pretensions, 
 your children, or your poems. Perfect candour is 
 dictated by envy, or some other unfriendly feeling, 
 naaking friendship a stalkmg-horse, under cover of 
 Avhich it shoots the arrows Avhich will rankle. Friend- 
 ship is candid only when the candour is urgent- 
 meant to avert impending danger or to rectify an 
 error. The candour which is an impertinence never 
 springs from friendship. Love is sympathetic. 
 
 I do not of course mean to intimate that my feeling 
 for Bourgonef was of that deep kind which justifies 
 the name of friendship. I only want to say that in 
 our social relations we are constantly hiding from 
 each other, under the smiles and courtesies of friendly 
 interest, thoughts which, if expressed, would destroy 
 all possible communion — and that, nevertheless, we 
 are not insincere in our smiles and covirtesies ; and
 
 46 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 therefore there is nothing paradoxical in my having 
 felt great admiration for Bourgonef, and great pleasure 
 in his society, while all the time there was deep 
 down in the recesses of my thoughts an uneasy sense 
 of a dark mystery which possibly connected him with 
 a dreadful crime. 
 
 This feeling was roused into greater activity by 
 an incident which now occurred. One morning 
 I went to Eourgonef's room, which was at some 
 distance from mine on the same floor, intending to 
 propose a visit to the sculpture at the Gl^'^ptothek. 
 To my surprise I found Ivan the serf standing before 
 the closed door. He looked at me like a mastiff 
 about to spring ; and intimated by significant gestures 
 that I was not allowed to enter the room. Conclud- 
 ing that his master was occupied in some way, and 
 desired not to be disturbed, I merely signified by a 
 nod that my visit was of no consequence, and went 
 out. On returning about an hour afterwards I saw 
 Ivan putting three pink letters into the letter-box 
 of the hotel. I attached no significance to this very 
 ordinary fact at the time, but went up to my room 
 and began writing my letters, one of which was to 
 my lawyer, sending him an important receipt. Tlie 
 dinner-bell sounded before I had half finished this 
 letter ; but I wrote on, determined to have done with 
 it at once, in case the afternoon should off'er any 
 expedition with Bourgonef. 
 
 At dinner he (quietly intimated that Ivan had
 
 BOURGONEF. 47 
 
 informed him of my visit, and apologised for not 
 having been able to see me. I, of course, assured 
 him that no apology was necessary, and that we had 
 plenty of time to visit the sculpture together without 
 intrviding on his private hours. He informed me 
 that lie was that afternoon going to pay a visit to 
 Schwanthaler the sculptor, and if I desired it, he 
 Avould ask permission on another occasion to take me 
 with him. I jumped at the proposal, as may be 
 supposed. 
 
 Dinner over, I strolled into the Englische Garten, 
 and had my coffee and cigar there. On my return, 
 I was vexed to find that in the hurry of finishing my 
 letters I had sealed the one to my lawyer, and had 
 not enclosed the receipt which had been the object 
 of writing. Fortunately it was not too late. Descend- 
 ing to the bureau of the hotel, I explained my mistake 
 to the head-waiter, who unlocked the letter-box to 
 search for my letter. It Avas found at once, for there 
 were only seven or eight in the box. Among these 
 my eye naturally caught the three pink letters Avhich 
 I had that morning seen Ivan drop into the box ; but 
 although they were seen by me they were not noticed 
 at the time, my mind being solely occupied with 
 rectifying the stupid blunder I had made. 
 
 Once more in my own room a sudden revelation 
 startled me. Every one knows what it is to have 
 details come under the eye which the mind first 
 interprets long after the eye ceases to rest upon tliem.
 
 48 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 The impressions are received passively : but tliey are 
 registered, and can be calmly read whenever the mind 
 is in activity. It Avas so now. I suddenly, as if 
 now for the first time, saw that the addresses on 
 Bourgonef's letters were written in a fluent, masterly 
 hand, bold in character, and Avith a certain sweep 
 which might have come from a painter. The thrill 
 Avhich this vision gave me Avill be intelligible when 
 you remember that Bourgonef had lost or pretended 
 to have lost his right arm, and was, as I before in- 
 timated, far from dexterous with his left. That no 
 man recently thrown upon the use of a left hand 
 could have written those addresses was too evident. 
 "W^iat, then, Avas the alternative 1 The empty sleeve 
 was an imposture ! At once the old horrible sus- 
 picion returned, and this time Avith tenfold violence 
 and Avith damnatory confirmation. 
 
 Pressing my temples between my hands, I tried 
 to be calm and to survey the evidence Avithout pre- 
 cipitation ; but for some time the conflict of thoughts 
 AA'as too violent. "Whatever might be the explanation, 
 clear it Avas that Bourgonef, for some purposes, Avas 
 practising a deception, and had, as I knew, other 
 means of disguising his appearance. This, on the 
 most favourable interpretation, branded him Avith 
 suspicion. This excluded him from the circle of 
 honest men. 
 
 But did it connect him Avith the murder of 
 Lieschen Lehfeldt ? In my thought it did so in-
 
 BOUKGONEF. 49 
 
 dubitably ; but I was aware of the difficulty of 
 making tins clear to any one else. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FIRST LOVE. 
 
 If the reader feels that my suspicions were not 
 wholly unwarranted, were indeed inevitable, he will 
 not laugh at me on learning that once more these sus- 
 picions were set aside, and the fact — the damnatory 
 fact, as I regarded it — discovered by me so accident- 
 ally, and, I thought, providentially, was robbed of all 
 its significance by Bourgonef himself casually and 
 carelessly avowing it in conversation, just as one may 
 avow a secret infirmity, with some bitterness, but 
 without any implication of deceit in its concealment. 
 
 I was the more prepared for this revulsion of 
 feeling, by the difficulty I felt in maintaining my 
 suspicions in the presence of one so gentle and so 
 refined. He had come into my room that evening to 
 tell me of his visit to Schwanthaler, and of the 
 sculptor's flattering desire to make my personal ac- 
 quaintance. He spoke of Schwanthaler, and of his 
 earnest eff'orts in art, with so much enthusiasm, and 
 was altogether so charming, that I felt abashed before 
 him, incapable of ridding myself of the dreadful 
 suspicions, yet incapable of firmly believing him to 
 be what I thought. But more than this, there came 
 
 T.s. — I. D
 
 50 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 the new interest awakened in me hj his story ; and 
 when, in the course of this story, he incidentally 
 disclosed the fact that he had not lost his arm, all 
 my suspicions vanished at once. 
 
 We had got, as usual, upon politics, and Avere 
 differing more than usual, because he gave greater 
 prominence to his sympathy with the Eed Eepub- 
 licans. He accused me of not being "thorough- 
 going," which I admitted. This he attributed to the 
 fact of my giving a divided heart to politics — a con- 
 dition natural enough at my age and with my hopes. 
 "Well," said I, laughing, "you don't mean to take 
 a lofty stand upon your few years' seniority. If my 
 age renders it natural, does yours profoundly alter 
 such a conviction 1 " 
 
 " My age ! no. But you have the hopes of youth. 
 I have none. I am banished for ever from the joys 
 and sorrows of domestic life ; and therefore, to live 
 at all, must concentrate my soul on great abstractions 
 and public affairs." 
 
 " But why banished, unless self-banished 1 " 
 
 " Woman's love is impossible. You look incredu- 
 lous. I do not allude to this," he said, taking up 
 the empty sleeve, and by so doing sending a shiver 
 through me. 
 
 "The loss of your arm," I said — and my voice 
 trembled slightly, for I felt that a crisis was at 
 hand — " although a misfortune to you, would really 
 be an advantage in gaining a woman's affections.
 
 BOUKGONEF. 51 
 
 Women are so romantic, and their imaginations are 
 so easily touched ! " 
 
 " Yes," he replied, bitterly ; " but I have not lost 
 my arm." 
 
 I started. He spoke bitterly, yet calmly. I 
 awaited his explanation in great suspense. 
 
 " To have lost my arm in battle, or even by an 
 accident, would perhaps have lent me a charm in 
 woman's eyes. But, as I said, my arm hangs by my 
 side — withered, unpresentable. " 
 
 I breathed again. He continued in the same 
 tone, and without noticing my looks. 
 
 " But it is not this which banishes me. Woman's 
 love might be hoped for, had I far worse infirmities. 
 The cause lies deeper. It lies in my history. A 
 wall of granite has grown up between me and the 
 sex." 
 
 "But, my dear fellow, do yo\i — wounded, as I 
 presume to guess, by some unworthy woman— extend 
 the fault of one to the whole sexl Do you despair 
 of finding another true, because a first was false 1 " 
 
 "They are all false," he exclaimed, with energy. 
 " Xot, perhaps, all false from inherent viciousness, 
 though many are that, but false because their in- 
 herent weakness renders them incapable of truth. 
 Oh ! I know the catalogue of their good qualities. 
 They are often pitiful, self-devoting, generous ; but 
 they are so by fits and starts, just as they are cruel, 
 remorseless, exacting, by fits and starts. They have
 
 52 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD," 
 
 no constancy, — they are too weak to be constant even 
 in evil ; tlieir minds are all impressions ; their actions 
 are all the issue of immediate promptings. Swayed 
 hj the fleeting impulses of the hour, they have only 
 one persistent, calculahle motive on Avhich reliance 
 can always be placed — that motive is vanity ; you 
 are always sure of them there. It is from vanity 
 they are good — from vanity they are evil ; their 
 devotion and their desertion equally vanity. I knoAV 
 them. To me they have disclosed the shallows of then' 
 natures. God ! how I have suffered from them ! " 
 
 A deej), low exclamation, half sob, half curse, 
 closed this tirade. He remained silent for a few 
 minutes, looking on the floor ; then, suddenly turn- 
 ing his eyes ujion me, said — 
 
 " Were you ever in Heidelberg'? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " I thought all your countrymen went there 1 Then 
 you will never have heard anything of my story. 
 Shall I tell you how my youth Avas blighted 1 Will 
 you care to listen 1 " 
 
 "It would interest me much." 
 
 " I had reached the age of seven-and-twenty," he 
 began, " without having once known even the vague 
 stirrings of the passion of love. I admired many 
 women, and courted the admiration of them all ; but 
 I was as yet not only heart-whole, but, to use your 
 Shakespeare's phrase, Cupid had not tapped me on 
 the shoulder.
 
 BOURGONEF. 53 
 
 " This detail is not unimportant in my story. You 
 may possibly have ohserved that in those passionate 
 natures which reserve their force, and do not fritter 
 away their feelings in scattered flirtations or trivial 
 love-affairs, there is a velocity and momentum, when 
 the movement of passion is once excited, greatly 
 transcending all that is ever felt by expansive and 
 expressive natures. Slow to be moved, when they 
 do move it is with the whole mass of the heart. So 
 it was with me. I purchased my immunity from 
 earlier entanglements by the price of my whole life. 
 I am not what I was. Between my past and present 
 self there is a gulf ; that gulf is dark, stormy, and 
 profound. On the far side stands a youth of liope, 
 energy, ambition, and unclouded happiness, with 
 great capacities for loving ; on this side a blighted 
 manhood, with no prospects but suffering and storm." 
 
 He paused. • With an effort he seemed to master 
 the suggestions which crowded upon his memory, and 
 continued his narrative in an equable tone. 
 
 " I had been for several weeks at Heidelberg. 
 One of my intimate companions was Kestner the 
 architect, and he one day proposed to introduce me to 
 his sister-in-law Ottilie, of whom he had repeatedly 
 spoken to me in terms of great affection and esteem. 
 
 " We went, and we were most cordially received. 
 Ottilie justified Kestner's praises. Pretty, but not 
 strikingly so — clever, but not obtrusively so ; her 
 soft dark eyes were frank and winning ; her manner
 
 64 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 was gentle and retiring, with that dash of senti- 
 mentalism which seems native to all German girls, 
 but without any of the ridiculous extravagance too 
 often seen in them. I liked her all the more be- 
 cause I was perfectly at my ease with her, and this 
 was rarely the case in my relations to young women. 
 
 " You leap at once to the conclusion that we fell 
 in love. Your conclusion is precipitate. Seeing her 
 continually, I grew to admire and respect her; but 
 the significant smiles, winks, and hints of friends, 
 pointing unmistakably at a supposed understanding 
 existing between us, only made me more seriously 
 examine the state of my feelings, and assured me 
 that I was not in love. It is true that I felt a 
 serene pleasure in her society, and that when away 
 from her she occupied much of my thoughts. It is 
 true that I often thought of her as a wife ; and in 
 these meditations she appeared as one eminently 
 calculated to make a happy home. But it is no less 
 true that during a temporary absence of hers of a few 
 weeks I felt no sort of uneasiness, no yearning for 
 her presence, no vacancy in my life. I knew, there- 
 fore, that it was not love which I felt. 
 
 " So much for my feelings. AVhat of hers 1 
 They seemed very like my own. That she admired 
 me, and was pleased to be with me, was certain. 
 That she had a particle of fiery love for me I did 
 not, could not believe. And it was probably this 
 very sense of her calmness which kept my feelings
 
 BOURGONEF. 55 
 
 quiet. For love is a flame which often can be kin- 
 dled only by contact with flame. Certainly this is so 
 in proud, reserved natures, which are chilled by any 
 contact with temperature not higher than their own. 
 
 " On her return, however, from that absence I have 
 mentioned, I Avas not a little fluttered by an obvious 
 change in her manner ; an impression which subse- 
 quent meetings only served to confirm. Although 
 still very quiet, her manner had become more tender, 
 and it had that delicious shyness which is the most 
 exquisite of flatteries, as it is one of the most en- 
 chanting of graces. I saw her tremble slightly be- 
 neath my voice, and blush beneath my gaze. 
 
 " There was no mistaking these signs. It was 
 clear that she loved me ; and it was no less clear that 
 I, taking fire at this discovery, was myself rapidly 
 falling in love. I will not keep you from my story 
 by idle reflections. Take another cigar." He rose 
 and paced up and down the room in silence. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AGALMA. 
 
 " At this juncture there arrived from Paris the 
 woman to whom the great sorrow of my life is due. 
 A fatalist might read in her appearance at this par- 
 ticular moment the signs of a prearranged doom. A 
 few weeks later, and her arrival Avould have been
 
 56 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 harmless ; I should have been shielded from all ex- 
 ternal influence by the absorbing force of love. But, 
 alas ! this was not to be. My fate had taken another 
 direction. The Avoman had arrived whose shadow 
 was to darken the rest of my existence. That 
 woman was Agalma Liebenstein. 
 • " How is it that the head Avhich we can only see 
 surrounded with a halo, or a shadow, when the splen- 
 dours of achievement or the infamy of shame instruct 
 our eyes, is by the uninstructed eye observed as 
 wholly vulgar 1 We all profess to be physiogno- 
 mists ; how is it Ave are so lamentably mistaken in 
 our judgments 1 Here was a woman in Avhom my 
 ignorant eyes saw nothing at all remarkable except 
 golden hair of unusual beauty. "When I say golden, 
 I am not speaking loosely. I do not mean red or 
 flaxen hair, but hair actually resembling burnished 
 gold more than anything else. Its ripples on her 
 brow caught the light like a coronet. This Avas her 
 one beauty, and it Avas superb. For the rest, her 
 features Avere characterless. Her figure Avas tall and 
 full ; not graceful, but sweepingly imposing. At first 
 I noticed nothing about her except the braided splen- 
 dour of her glorious hair." 
 
 He rose, and Avent into his bedroom, from Avhich 
 he returned Avith a small trinket-box in his hand. 
 This he laid open on the table, disclosing a long 
 strand of exquisite fair hair lying on a cushion of 
 dark-blue velvet.
 
 BOURGONEF. 57 
 
 " Look at that," lie said. " Might it not have 
 been cut from an angel's headi" 
 
 " It is certainly wonderful." 
 
 " It must have been hair like this which crowned 
 the infamous head of Lucrezia Borgia," he said, bit- 
 terly. " She, too, had golden hair ; but hers must 
 have been of paler tint, like her nature." 
 
 He resumed his seat, and, fixing his eyes upon the 
 lock, continued — • 
 
 " She was one of Ottilie's friends — dear friends, 
 they called each other, — which meant that they 
 kissed each other profusely, and told each other all 
 their secrets, or as much as the lying nature of the 
 sex permitted and suggested. It is, of course, im- 
 possible for me to disentangle my present knowledge 
 from my past impressions so as to give you a clear 
 description of what I then thought of Agalma. 
 Enough that, as a matter of fact, I distinctly re- 
 member not to have admired her, and to have told 
 Ottilie so ; and when Ottilie, in surprise at my in- 
 sensibility, assured me that men were in general 
 Avonderfully charmed with her (though, for her part, 
 she had never understood why), I answered, and 
 answered sincerely, that it might be true with the 
 less refined order of men, but that men of taste 
 Avould certainly be rather repelled from her. 
 
 " This opinion of mine, or some report of it, reached 
 Agalma. 
 
 " It may have been the proximate cause of my
 
 58 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 sorrows. Without this stimulus to her vanity, she 
 might have left me undisturbed. I don't knoAV. 
 ALL I know is, that over many men Agalma exer- 
 cised great influence, and that over me she exercised 
 in a short time the spell of fascination. No other 
 Avord will explain her influence ; for it was not based 
 on excellences such as the mind could recognise to be 
 attractions; it was based on a mysterious personal 
 power, something awful in its mysteriousness, as all 
 demoniac powers are. One source of her influence 
 over men I think I can explain : she at once 
 captivated and repelled them. By artful appeals 
 to their vanity, she made them interested in her 
 and in her opinion of them, and yet kept herself in- 
 accessible by a pride which was the more fascinating 
 because it always seemed about to give way. Her 
 instinct fastened upon the weak point in those she 
 approached. This made her seductive to men, be- 
 cause she flattered their Aveak points ; and hateful to 
 women, because she flouted and disclosed their weak 
 points. 
 
 " Her influence over me began in the following 
 Avay. One day, at a picnic, having been led by her 
 into a conversation respecting the relative inferiority 
 of the femmine intellect, I Avas forced to speak 
 rather more earnestly than usual, Avhen suddenly in 
 a loAver voice she said — 
 
 " ' I am Avilling to credit anything you say ; only 
 pray don't continue talking to me so earnestly.'
 
 BOUKGONEF. 59 
 
 " 'Why nof?' I asked, surprised. 
 
 " She looked at me with peculiar significance, but 
 remained silent. 
 
 " ' May I ask why not ]' I said. 
 
 " 'Because if you do, somebody may be jealous.' 
 There was a laughing defiance in her eye as she 
 spoke. 
 
 " 'And pray, who has a right to be jealous 
 of me % ' 
 
 " ' Oh ! you know well enough. 
 
 " It was true ; I did know : and she knew that I 
 knew it. To my shame be it said that I was weak 
 enough to yield to an equivocation which I now see 
 to have been disloyal, but Avhich I then pretended 
 to have been no more than delicacy to Ottilie. As, 
 in point of fact, there had never been a word passed 
 between us respecting our mutual feelings, I con- 
 sidered myself bound in honour to assume that there 
 was nothing tacitly acknowledged. 
 
 "Piqued by her tone and look, I disavowed the 
 existence of any claims upon my attention; and to 
 prove the sincerity of my words, I persisted in ad- 
 dressing my attentions to her. Once or twice I 
 fancied I caught flying glances, in which some of 
 the company criticised my conduct, and Ottilie also 
 seemed to me unusually quiet. But her manner, 
 though quiet, was untroubled and unchanged. I 
 talked less to her than usual, partly because I talked 
 so much to Agalma, and partly because I felt that
 
 60 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 Agaliua's eyes were on us. But no shadow of 
 ' temper ' or reserve darkened our interchange of 
 speech. 
 
 " On our way back, I know not Avhat devil 
 prompted me to ask Agalma whether she had really 
 been in earnest in her former allusion to 'some- 
 body.' 
 
 " ' Yes,' she said, ' I was in earnest then.' 
 
 " ' And now 1 ' 
 
 " ' Xow I have doubts. I may have been misin- 
 formed. It's no concern of mine, any way ; but I 
 had been given to understand. However, I admit 
 that my own eyes have not confirmed what my ears 
 heard.' 
 
 " This speech was irritating on two separate 
 grounds. It implied that people were talking 
 freely of my attachment, which, until I had form- 
 ally acknowledged it, I resented as an impertinence ; 
 and it implied that, from personal observation, 
 Agalma doubted Ottilie's feelings for me. This 
 alarmed my quick -retreating pride ! I, too, began 
 to doubt. Once let loose on that field, imagination 
 soon saw shapes enough to confirm any doubt. 
 Ottilie's manner certainly had seemed less tender 
 — nay, somewhat indifferent — during the last few 
 days. Had the arrival of that heavy lout, her 
 cousin, anything to do with this change ? 
 
 " Xot to weary you by recalling all the unfolding 
 stages of this miserable story with the minuteness of
 
 BOURGONEF. 61 
 
 detail which my own memory morbidly lingers on, I 
 will hurry to the catastrophe. I grew more and more 
 doubtful of the existence in Ottilie's mind of any 
 feeling stronger than friendship for me ; and as this 
 doubt strengthened, there arose the flattering suspicion 
 that I was becoming an object of greater interest 
 to Agalma, who had quite changed her tone towards 
 me, and had become serious in her speech and 
 manner. "Weeks passed. Ottilie had fallen from 
 her pedestal, and had taken her place among agree- 
 able acquaintances. One day I suddenly learned 
 that Ottilie was engaged to her cousin. 
 
 " You will not wonder that Agalma, who before 
 this had exercised great fascination over me, now 
 doubly became an object of the most tender interest. 
 I fell madly in love. Hitherto I had never known 
 that passion. My feeling for Ottilie I saw was but 
 the inarticulate stammerings of the mighty voice 
 which now sounded through the depths of my 
 nature. The phrase, madli/ in love, is no exaggera- 
 tion ; madness alone knows such a fever of the 
 brain, such a tumult of the heart. It was not that 
 reason was overpowered ; on the contrary, reason 
 was intensely active, but active with that logic of 
 flames which lights up the vision of maniacs. 
 
 " Although, of course, my passion was but too 
 evident to every one, I dreaded its premature 
 avowal, lest I should lose her ; and almost equally 
 dreaded delay, lest I should sufi'er from that also.
 
 62 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 At length the avowal was extorted from me by 
 jealousy of a brilliant Pole — Korinski — who had 
 recently appeared in our circle, and was obviously 
 casting me in the shade by his superior advantages 
 of novelty, of personal attraction, and of a romantic 
 history. She accepted me ; and now, for a time, I 
 was the happiest of mortals. The fever of the last 
 few weeks was abating ; it gave place to a deep tide 
 of hopeful joy. Could I have died then ! Could I 
 even have died shortly afterwards, when I knew the 
 delicious misery of a jealousy not too absorbing ! 
 For you must know that my happiness was brief. 
 Jealousy, to which all passion of a deep and exacting- 
 power is inevitably allied, soon began to disturb my 
 content. Agalma had no tenderness. She permitted 
 caresses, never returned them. She was ready enough 
 to listen to all my plans for the future, so long as the 
 recital moved amid details of fortune and her position 
 in society — that is, so long as her vanity was in- 
 terested ; but I began to observe with pain that her 
 thoughts never rested on tender domesticities and 
 poetic anticipations. This vexed me more and more. 
 The very spell which she exercised over me made her 
 Avant of tenderness more intolerable. I yearned for 
 her love — for some sympathy with the vehement passion 
 Avhich was burning within me ; and she was as marble. 
 " You will not be surprised to hear that I re- 
 proached her bitterly with her indifference. That 
 is the invariable and fatal folly of lovers — they
 
 BOUEGONEF. 63 
 
 seem to imagine that a heart can be scolded into 
 tenderness ! To my reproaches she at first answered 
 impatiently that they were unjust ; that it was not 
 her fault if her nature was less expansive than mine ; 
 and that it was insulting to be told she was in- 
 different to the man whom she had consented to 
 marry. Later she answered my reproaches with 
 haughty defiance, one day intimating that if I really 
 thought Avhat I said, and repented our engagement, 
 it would be most prudent for us to separate ere it 
 was too late. This quieted me for a while. But it 
 brought no balm to my wounds. 
 
 " And now fresh tortures were added. Korinski 
 became quite marked in his attentions to Agalma. 
 These she received with evident delight ; so much so, 
 that I saw by the glances of others that they were 
 scandalised at it ; and this, of course, increased my 
 pain. My renewed reproaches only made her manner 
 colder to me ; to Korinski it became what I would 
 gladly have seen towards myself. 
 
 " The stress and agitation of those days were too 
 much for me. I fell ill, and for seven weeks I lay 
 utterly prostrate. On recovering, this note was 
 handed to me. It was from Agalma." 
 
 Bourgonef here held out to me a crumpled letter, 
 and motioned that I should open it and read. It 
 ran thus : — 
 
 " I have thought much of what you have so often
 
 64 TALES FROM " BL.VCKWOOD." 
 
 SiUil, that it would l>e for tlio happiness of both if our 
 imfortuiiato engagement wei-e set aside. Tliat yon 
 have a reixl atiection for luo I boliovo, and be assured 
 that I once had a real atiection for you ; not, perhaps, 
 the passionate love "which a natiuv so exacting as 
 yours demands, and "wliich 1 earnestly hope it may 
 one day find, hut a genimie aftection nevertheless, 
 Avhich woidd have made nic proud to share your lot. 
 Eiit it -would he uncandid in me to pretend that 
 this now exists. Your incessant jealousy, the angry 
 feelings excited l\v your reproaches, the fretful irri- 
 tation in -which for some time -we have lived together, 
 has completely killed -what love I had, and 1 no 
 longer feel prepared to risk the happiness of both of 
 us by a marriaj^e. What you said the other night 
 convinces me that it is even vour desire our engage- 
 ment should cease. It is certainly mine. Let us try 
 to think kindly of each other and meet again as 
 friends. Agalma Liebexsteix." 
 
 "When I had read this and returned it to him, ho 
 said : " You see that this Avas Avritten on the day I 
 Avas taken ill. Whether she knew that I was then 
 helpless I know not. At any rate, she never sent to 
 inquire after me. She went otf to Paris ; Korinski 
 followed her ; and — as I quickly learned on going 
 once more into society — they Avere married ! Did 
 you ever, in the Avhole course of your experience, 
 hear of such heartless conduct?"
 
 BOUKGONEF. Go 
 
 liourgonfif asked this with a ferocity which quite 
 fitartled mo. I did not answer him ; for, in truth, I 
 could not see that Agalma had heen very much to 
 >jlame, even as he told the story, and felt sure that 
 could I have heard her version it would liave worn a 
 very different aspect. That she was cold, and disap- 
 pointed him, might he true enough, hut there was no 
 crime ; and I jjerfectly understood how thoroughly 
 odious he must have made himself to her hy his ex- 
 actions and reproaches. I understood this, perhaps, 
 all the better, because in the course of his narrative 
 Bourgonef had revealed to me aspects of his nature 
 Avliich were somewhat repulsive. Especially I was 
 struck Avith his morbid vanity, and his readiness to 
 impute low motives to others. This impleasant view 
 of his character — a character in many respects so ad- 
 mirable for its generosity and refinement — was deep- 
 ened as he went on, instead of awaiting my reply to 
 bis question. 
 
 " For a wrong so measureless, you Avill naturally 
 ask what measureless revenge I sought." 
 
 The idea had not occurred to me ; indeed I could 
 see no wrong, and this notion of revenge was some- 
 Avhat startling in such a case. 
 
 " I debated it long," he continued. " I felt that 
 since I was prevented from arresting any of the 
 evil to myself, I could at least mature my plans 
 for an adequate discharge of just retribution on 
 her. It reveals the impotence resulting from the 
 
 T.S.— L E
 
 66 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 trammels of modern civilisation, that while the pos- 
 sibilities of wrong are infinite, the openings for 
 vengeance are few and contemptible. Only when 
 a man is thrown upon the necessities of this 'wild 
 justice ' does he discover how difficult vengeance 
 really is. Had Agalma been my wife, I could 
 have wreaked my wrath upon her, with assurance 
 that some of the torture she inflicted on me was 
 to fall on her, I^ot having this power, what was 
 I to do 1 Kill her 1 That would have afforded 
 one moment of exquisite satisfaction — but to her it 
 would have been simply death — and I wanted to kill 
 the heart." 
 
 He seemed working with an insane passion ; so that 
 I regarded him with disgust mingled with some doubts 
 as to what horrors he was about to relate. 
 
 " My plan was chosen. The only way to reach her 
 heart was to strike her through her husband. For 
 several hours daily I practised with the pistol, until — 
 in spite of only having a left hand — I acquired fatal 
 skill But this was not enough. Firing at a mark is 
 simple work. Firing at a man — especially one hold- 
 ing a pistol pointed at you — is altogether different. 
 I had too often heard of ' crack shots ' missing their 
 men, to rely confidently on my skill in the shooting- 
 gallery. It was necessary that my eye and hand 
 should be educated to familiarity with the real ob- 
 ject. Part of the cause why duellists miss their man 
 is from the trepidation of fear. I was without fear.
 
 BOUKGONEF. 67 
 
 At no moment of my life have I been afraid ; and tlie 
 chance of being shot by Korinski I counted as noth- 
 ing. The other cause is unfamiliarity with the mark. 
 This I secured myself against by getting a lay figure 
 of Korinski's height, dressing it to resemble him, plac- 
 ing a pistol in its hand, and then practising at this 
 mark in the woods. After a short time I could send 
 a bullet through the thorax without taking more than 
 a hasty glance at the figure. 
 
 " Thus prepared, I started for Paris. But you will 
 feel for me when you learn that my hungry heart was 
 baffled of its vengeance, and baffled forever. Agahna 
 had been suddenly carried off by scarlet fever. Kor- 
 inski had left Paris, and I felt no strong promptings 
 to follow him, and Avreak on him a futile vengeance. 
 Tt was on her my wrath had been concentrated, and 
 I gnashed my teeth at the thought that she had 
 escaped me. 
 
 " My story is ended. The months of gloomy de- 
 pression which succeeded, now that I was no longer 
 sustained by the hope of vengeance, I need not speak 
 of. My existence was desolate ; and even now the 
 desolation continues over the whole region of the 
 emotions. I carry a dead heart M'ithin me."
 
 68 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD.' 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A SECOND VICTIM. 
 
 Bourgonef's story has been narrated with some 
 fulness, though in less detail than he told it, in 
 order that the reader may understand its real bear- 
 ings on mu story. Without it, the motives which 
 impelled the strange pertinacity of my pursuit would 
 have been unintelligible. I have said that a very 
 disagreeable impression remained on my mind re- 
 specting certain aspects of his character, and I felt 
 somewhat ashamed of my imperfect sagacity in hav- 
 ing up to this period been entirely blind to those 
 aspects. The truth is, every human being is a mys- 
 tery, and remains so to the last. V^^e fancy we 
 know a character ; we form a distinct conception of 
 it ; for years that conception remains unmodified, 
 and suddenly the strain of some emergency or the 
 incidental stimulus of new circumstance reveals qua- 
 lities not simply unexpected, but flatly contradictory 
 of our previous conception. We judge of a man 
 by the angle he subtends to our eye — only thus 
 can we judge of him ; and this angle depends on 
 the relation his qualities and circumstances bear 
 to our interests and sympathies. Bourgonef had 
 charmed me intellectually ; morally I had never 
 come closer to him than in the sympathies of public
 
 BOUEGONEF. 69 
 
 questions and abstract theories. His story had dis- 
 closed hidden depths. 
 
 My old suspicions reappeared, and a conversation 
 we had two days afterwards helped to strengthen them. 
 
 We had gone on a visit to Schwanthaler the sculp- 
 tor, at his tiny little castle of Schwaneck, a few miles 
 from Munich. The artist was out for a walk, but we 
 were invited to come in and await his return, which 
 would be shortly ; and meanwhile Bourgonef under- 
 took to show me over the castle, interesting as a bit 
 of modern Gothic, realising on a diminutive scale a 
 youthful dream of the sculptor's. When our survey 
 was completed — and it did not take long — Ave sat at 
 one of the windows and enjoyed a magnificent pros- 
 pect. " It is curious," said Bo-urgonef, " to be shut 
 up here in this imitation of medieval masonry, where 
 every detail speaks of the dead past, and to think of the 
 events now going on in Paris which must find imita- 
 tors all over Europe, and Avhich open to the mind 
 such vistas of the future. What a grotesque anach- 
 ronism is this Gothic castle, built in the same age 
 as that which sees a reforming pope ! " 
 
 " Yes ; but is not the reforming pope himself an 
 anachronism 1 " 
 
 " As a Catholic," here he smiled, intimating that 
 his orthodoxy was not very stringent, " I cannot 
 admit that ; as a Protestant, you must admit that 
 if there must be a pope, he must in these days be a 
 reformer, or — give up his temporal power. Not that
 
 f- 
 
 TALES FROM "BLA.CKWOOD. 
 
 I look on Pio Nono as more than a precursor : he may 
 break ground, and point the waj'', but he is not the 
 man to lead Europe out of its present Slough of 
 Despond, and under the headship of the Church 
 found a new and lasting republic. We want a 
 Hildebrand, one who will be to the nineteenth 
 century Avhat Gregory was to the eleventh." 
 
 " Do you believe in such a possibility 1 Do you 
 think the Eoman pontiff can ever again sway the 
 destinies of Europe"?" 
 
 " I can hardly say I believe it ; yet I see the pos- 
 sibility of such an opening if the right man were to 
 arise. But I fear he will not arise ; or if he should, 
 the Conclave will stifle him. Yet there is but one 
 alternative : either Europe must once more join in a 
 crusade with a pope at the head ; or it must hoist 
 the red flag. There is no other issue." 
 
 " Heaven preserve us from both ! And I think we 
 shall be preserved from the pope by the rottenness of 
 the Church ; fronr the drapeau rouge by the indigna- 
 tion and horror of all honest men. You see how the 
 Provisional Government has resisted the insane at- 
 tempt of the fanatics to make the red flag accepted 
 as the national banner 1 " 
 
 " Yes ; and it is the one thing whicli dashes my 
 pleasure in the new revolution. It is the one act of 
 weakness which the Government has exlribited ; a 
 concession which will be fatal unless it be happily 
 set aside by the energetic party of action."
 
 BOUEGONEF. 71 
 
 " An act of weakness 1 say rather an act of 
 strength. A concession 1 say rather the repudiation 
 of anarchy, the assertion of law and justice." 
 
 " [N'ot a bit. It was a concession to the fears of 
 the timid and to the vanity of the French people. 
 The tricolor is a French flag — not the banner of 
 Humanity. It is because the tricolor has been 
 identified with the victories of France that it 
 appeals to the vanity of the vainest of people. 
 They forget that it is the flag of a revolution which 
 failed, and of an empire which was one perpetual 
 outrage to humanity. Whereas the red is new ; it 
 is the symbol of an energetic, thorough-going creed. 
 If it carries terror Avith it, so much the better. 
 The tyrants and the timid should be made to 
 tremble." 
 
 " I had no idea you were so bloodthirsty," said I, 
 laughing at his vehemence. 
 
 " I am not bloodthirsty at all ; I am only logical 
 and consistent. There is a mass of sophistry current 
 in the world which sickens me. People talk of 
 Eobespierre and St Just, two of the most virtuous 
 men that ever lived — and of Dominic and Torque- 
 mada, two of the most single-minded — as if they 
 were cruel and bloodthirsty, whereas they were only 
 convinced." 
 
 " Is it from love of paradox that you defend these 
 tigers ■? " 
 
 " Tigers, again — how those beasts are calumniated!"
 
 72 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 He said this with a seriousness Avhich was irresist- 
 ibly comic. I shouted with laughter ; but he con- 
 tinued gravely — 
 
 " You think I am joking. But let me ask you 
 why you consider the tiger more bloodthirsty than 
 yourself 1 He springs upon his food — you buy yours 
 from the butcher. He cannot live without animal 
 food : it is a primal necessity, and he obeys the 
 ordained instinct. You can live on vegetables ; yet 
 you slaughter beasts of the field and birds of the air 
 (or buy them when slaughtered), and consider your- 
 self a model of virtue. The tiger only kills his food 
 or his enemies ; you not only kill both, but you kill 
 one animal to make a gravy for another ! The tiger 
 is less bloodthirsty than the Christian ! " 
 
 " I don't know how much of that tirade is meant 
 to be serious ; but to waive the question of the tiger's 
 morality, do you really — I will not say sympathise, 
 but — justify Robespierre, Dominic, St Just, and the 
 rest of the fanatics who have waded to their ends 
 through blood 1 " 
 
 " He who wills the e7id, wills the means" 
 
 " A devil's maxim." 
 
 " But a truth. What the foolish world shrinks at 
 as bloodthirstiness and cruelty is very often mere 
 force and constancy of intellect. It is not that fan- 
 atics thirst for blood — far from it, — but they thirst 
 for the triumph of their cause. Whatever obstacle 
 lies on their path must be removed ; if a torrent of
 
 BOURGONEF. 73 
 
 blood is the only thing that will sweep it away — the 
 torrent must sweep." 
 
 " And sweep with it all the sentiments of pity, 
 mercy, charity, love 1 " 
 
 " ^0 : these sentiments may give a sadness to the 
 necessity ; they make the deed a sacrifice, but they 
 cannot prevent the soul from seeing the aim to which 
 it tends." 
 
 " This is detestable doctrine ! It is the sophism 
 which has destroyed families, devastated cities, and 
 retarded the moral progress of the world more than 
 anything else, No single act of injustice is ever done 
 on this earth but it tends to perpetuate the reign of 
 iniquity. By the feelings it calls forth it keeps up 
 the native savagery of the heart. It breeds injustice, 
 partly by hardening the minds of those who assent, 
 and partly by exciting the passion of revenge in those 
 who resist." 
 
 " You are wrong. The great drag-chain on the car 
 of progress is the faltering inconsistency of man. 
 "Weakness is more cruel than sternness. Sentiment 
 is more destructive than logic." 
 
 The arrival of Schwanthaler Avas timely, for my 
 indignation was rising. The sculptor received us with 
 great cordiality, and in the pleasure of the subsequent 
 hour, I got over to some extent the irritation Bour- 
 gonef's talk had excited. 
 
 The next day I left Munich for the Tyrol. My 
 parting with Bourgonef was many degrees less
 
 74 TALES PKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 friendly than it would have been a week before. I 
 had no wish to see him again, and therefore gave 
 him no address or invitation in case he should come 
 to England. As I rolled away in the Malleposte, my 
 busy thoughts reviewed all the details of our acquaint- 
 ance ; and the farther I was carried from his pres- 
 ence, the more obtrusive became the suspicions 
 which connected him with the murder of Lieschen 
 Lehfeldt. How, or upon Avhat motive, was indeed 
 an utter mystery. He had not mentioned the name 
 of Lehfeldt. He had not mentioned having before 
 been at Nuremberg. At Heidelberg the tragedy 
 occurred — or was Heidelberg only a mask ? It 
 occurred to me that he had first ascertained that I 
 had never been at Heidelberg before he placed the 
 scene of his story there. 
 
 Thoughts such as these tormented me. Imagine, 
 then, the horror with which I heard, soon after my 
 arrival at Salzbiirg, that a murder had been com- 
 mitted at Grosshesslohe — one of the j^retty environs 
 of Munich much resorted to by holiday folk — con'e- 
 sponding in all essential features with the murder at 
 Nuremberg ! In both cases the victim was young 
 and pretty. In both cases she was found quietly 
 lying on the ground, stabbed to the heart, without 
 any other traces of violence. In both cases she was 
 a betrothed bride, and the motive of the imknown 
 assassin a mystery. 
 
 Such a correspondence in the essential features in-
 
 BOUEGONEF. 75 
 
 evitably suggested an appalling mystery of unity in 
 these crimes, — either as the crimes of one man, com- 
 mitted imder some impulse of motiveless malignity 
 and thirst for innocent blood — or as the equally ap- 
 palling effect of imitatio7i acting contagiously upon a 
 criminal imagination ; of which contagion there have 
 been, unfortunately, too many examples — horrible 
 crimes prompting certain weak and feverish imagin- 
 ations, by the very horror they inspire, first to dwell 
 on, and finally to realise their imitations. 
 
 It was this latter hypothesis which found general 
 acceptance. Indeed it was the only one which rested 
 upon any ground of experience. The disastrous in- 
 fluence of imitation, especially under the fascination 
 of horror, was well known. The idea of any diabol- 
 ical malice moving one man to pass from city to city, 
 and there quietly single out his victims — both of 
 them, by the very hypothesis, unrelated to him, both 
 of them at the epoch of their lives, when 
 
 " The bosom's lord sits lightly on its throne," 
 
 when the peace of the heart is assured, and the future 
 is radiantly beckoning to them, — that any man should 
 choose such victims for such crimes, was too prepos- 
 terous an idea long to be entertained. Unless the 
 man were mad, the idea was inconceivable ; and even 
 a monomaniac must betray himself in such a course, 
 because he would necessarily conceive himself to be 
 accomplishing some supreme act of justice.
 
 76 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 It "was thus I argued ; and indeed I should much 
 have preferred to believe that one maniac were in- 
 volved, rather than the contagion of crime, — since one 
 maniac must inevitably be soon detected ; whereas 
 there were no assignable limits to the contagion of 
 imitation. And this it was which so profoundly 
 agitated German society. In every family in which 
 there happened to be a bride, vague tremors could 
 not be allayed; and the absolute powerlessness which 
 resulted from the utter uncertainty as to the Cj[uarter 
 in which this dreaded phantom might next appear, 
 justified and intensified those tremors. Against such 
 an apparition there was no conceivable safeguard. 
 From a city stricken with the plague, from a district 
 so stricken, flight is possible, and there are the re- 
 sources of medical aid. But from a moral plague 
 like this, wiiat escape was possible 1 
 
 So passionate and profound became the terror, that 
 I began to share the opinion which I heard expressed, 
 regretting the widespread publicity of the modern 
 press, since, with many undeniable benefits, it carried 
 also the fatal curse of distributing through house- 
 holds, and keeping constantly under the excitement of 
 discussion, images of crime and horror which would 
 tend to perpetuate and extend the excesses of indi- 
 vidual passion. Tlic mere dwelling long on such a 
 topic as this was fraught Avith evil. 
 
 This and more I heard discussed as I hurried back 
 to Munich, To Munich ? Yes ; thither I was post-
 
 BOUEGONEF. 77 
 
 iiig with all speed. Not a shaclo-w of doubt now re- 
 mained in my mind. I knew the assassin, and was 
 resolved to track and convict him. Do not suppose 
 that this time I was led away by the vagrant activity 
 of my constructive imagination. I had something 
 like positive proof. ]^o sooner had I learned that 
 the murder had been committed at Grosshesslohe, 
 than my thoughts at once carried me to a now memo- 
 rable visit I had made there in company with Bour- 
 gonef and two young Bavarians. At the hotel where 
 Ave dined, we were waited on by the niece of the 
 landlord, a girl of remarkable beauty, who naturally 
 excited the attention of four young men, and furnished 
 them with a topic of conversation. One of the Bava- 
 rians had told us that she would one day be perhaps 
 one of the wealthiest women in the country, for she 
 was engaged to be married to a young farmer who 
 had recently found himself, by a rapid succession of 
 deaths, sole heir to a great brewer, whose wealth was 
 known to be enormous. 
 
 At this moment Sophie entered bringing wine, and 
 I saw Bourgonef slowly turn his eyes upon her Avith 
 a look which then was mysterious to me, but which 
 now spoke too plainly its dreadful meaning. 
 
 What is there in a look, you Avill say 1 Perhaps 
 nothing ; or it may be everything. To my imsus- 
 pectmg, unenlightened perception, Bourgonef's gaze 
 was simply the melancholy and half -curious gaze 
 which such a man might be supposed to cast upon a
 
 78 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 young woman who had heen made the topic of an in- 
 teresting discourse. But to my mind, enlightened as 
 to his character, and instructed as to his peculiar feel- 
 ings arising from his own story, the gaze was charged 
 with horror. It marked a victim. The whole suc- 
 cession of events rose before me in vivid distinctness ; 
 the separate details of suspicion gathered into unity. 
 
 Great as was Bourgonef 's command over his features, 
 he could not conceal uneasiness as well as surprise at 
 my appearance at the table dilute in INIunich. I shook 
 hands with him, putting on as friendly a mask as I 
 could, and replied to his question about my sudden 
 return by attributing it to unexpected intelligence 
 received at Salzburg. 
 
 " N'othing serious, I hope ] " 
 
 " Well, I'm afraid it wiU prove very serious," I 
 said. " But we shall see. Meanwhile my visit to 
 the Tyrol must be given up or postponed." 
 
 " Do you remain here, then 1 " 
 
 " I don't know what my movements wiU be." 
 
 Thus I had prepared him for any reserve or strange- 
 ness in my manner ; and I had concealed from him 
 the course of my movements ; for at whatever cost, I 
 was resolved to foUow him and bring him to justice. 
 
 But how ? Evidence I had none that could satisfy 
 any one else, however convincing it might be to my 
 own mind. Nor did there seem any evidence forth- 
 coming from Grosshesslohe. Sophie's body had been 
 foiind in the afternoon lying as if asleep in one of the
 
 BOURGONEF. 79 
 
 by-paths of the wood. 'No marks of a struggle ; no 
 traces of the murderer. Her affianced lover, who was 
 at Augsburg, on hecaring of her fate, hurried to Gross- 
 hesslohe, but could throw no light on the murder, 
 could give no hint as to a possible motive for the 
 deed. But this entire absence of evidence, or even 
 ground of suspicion, only made My case the stronger. 
 It was the motiveless malignity of the deed which 
 fastened it on Bourgonef ; or rather, it was the ab- 
 sence of any known motive elsewhere which assured 
 me that I had detected the motive in him. 
 
 Should I communicate my conviction to the police 1 
 It was possible that I might impress them with at 
 least sufficient suspicion to warrant his examination 
 — and in that case the truth might be elicited ; for 
 among the many barbarities and iniquities of the 
 criminal procedure in Continental States which often 
 press heavily on the innocent, there is this compen- 
 sating advantage, that the pressure on the guilty is 
 tenfold heavier. If the innocent are often unjustly 
 punished — imprisoned and maltreated before their 
 innocence can be established — the guilty seldom 
 escape. In England we give the criminal not only 
 every chance of escape, but many advantages. The 
 love of fair-play is carried to excess. It seems at 
 times as if the whole arrangements of our procedure 
 were established with a view to giving a criminal not 
 only the benefit of every doubt, but of every loophole 
 through which he can slip. Instead of this, the Con-
 
 80 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD," 
 
 tinental procedure goes ou the principle of closing up 
 every loopliole, and of inventing endless traps into 
 which the accused may fall. "We warn the accused 
 not to say anytliing that may be prejudicial to him. 
 They entangle him in contradictions and confessions 
 Avhich disclose his guilt. 
 
 Knowing this, I thought it very likely that, how- 
 ever artful Bourgonef might be, a severe examination 
 might extort from him sufficient confirmation of my 
 suspicions to warrant further procedure. But know- 
 ing also that this resort was open to me Avhen all 
 others had failed, I resolved to Avait and Avatch. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FINALE. 
 
 Two days passed, and nothing occurred. My 
 Avatching seemed hopeless, and I resolved to try the 
 effect of a disguised interrogatory. It might help to 
 confirm my already settled conviction, if it did not 
 elicit any new evidence. 
 
 Seated in Bourgonefs room, in the old place, each 
 with a cigar, and chatting as of old on public affairs, 
 I gradually approached the subject of the recent 
 murder. 
 
 " Is it not strange," I said, " that both these crimes 
 should have happened while avc Avere casually staying 
 in both places ? "
 
 BOUEGONEF. 81 
 
 " Perliaps we are the criminals," he replied, laugh- 
 ing. I shivered slightly at this audacity. He 
 laughed as he spoke, but there was a hard, metallic, 
 and ahnost defiant tone in his voice which exasper- 
 ated me. 
 
 " Perhaps we are," I said quietly. He looked full 
 at me ; but I was prepared, and my face told nothing. 
 I added, as in explanation, " The crime being appar- 
 ently contagious, we may have brought the mfection 
 from ISTuremberg." 
 
 " Do you believe in that hypothesis of imitation?" 
 
 " I don't know what to believe. Do you believe in 
 there being only one murderer 1 It seems such a pre- 
 posterous idea. We must suppose him, at any rate, 
 to be a maniac." 
 
 " Ilfot necessarily. Indeed there seems to have 
 been too much artful contrivance in both affairs, not 
 only in the selection of the victims, but in the exe- 
 cution of the schemes. Cunning as maniacs often 
 are, they are still maniacs, and betray themselves." 
 
 " If not a maniac," said I, hoping to pique him, 
 " he must be a man of stupendous and pitiable vanity, 
 — perhaps one of your constant-minded friends, whom 
 you refuse to call bloodthirsty." 
 
 " Constant - minded perhaps ; but why pitiably 
 vain 1 " 
 
 " Why 1 Because only a diseased atrocity of ima- 
 gination, stimulating a nature essentially base and 
 Aveak in its desire to make itself conspicuous, would 
 
 T.S.— I. P
 
 82 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 or could suggest such things. The silly youth Avho 
 ' fired the Ephesian dome,' the vain idiot who set tire 
 to York Minster, the miserable Frenchmen -who have 
 committed murder and suicide with a view of making 
 their exit striking from a world in which their appear- 
 ance had been contemptible, would all sink into insigni- 
 ficance beside the towering infamy of baseness which 
 — for the mere love of producing an effect on the 
 minds of men, and thus drawing their attention upon 
 him, which otherwise would never have marked him 
 at all — could scheme and execute crimes so horrible 
 and inexcusable. In common charity to human 
 nature, let us suppose the wretch is mad ; because 
 otherwise his miserable vanity woidd be too loath- 
 some." I spoke with warmth and bitterness, which 
 increased as I perceived him wincmg imder the 
 degradation of my contempt. 
 
 " If his motive were vanity," he said, " no doubt it 
 woidd be horrible ; but may it not have been revenge ? " 
 
 " Eevenge ! " I exclaimed; ''what! on innocent 
 women 1 " 
 
 " You assume their innocence." 
 
 " Good God ! do you know anything to the con- 
 trary 1 " 
 
 " Xot 1. But as we are conjecturing, I may as 
 well oonjecture the motive to have been revenge, as 
 you may conjecture it to have been the desire to pro- 
 duce a startling effect." 
 
 " How do you justify your conjecture ? "
 
 BOUKGOKEF. 83 
 
 " Simply enough. We have to suppose a motive ; 
 let us say it was revenge, and see whether that Avill 
 furnish a clue." 
 
 '' But it can't. The two victims were wholly 
 ■unconnected with each other by any intermediate 
 acquaintances, consequently there can have been no 
 common wrong or common enmity in existence to 
 furnish food for vengeance." 
 
 "That may be so ; it may also be that the avenger 
 made them vicarious victims," 
 
 " How so 1 " 
 
 "It is human nature. Did you ever observe a 
 thwarted child striking in its anger the unoffending- 
 nurse, destroying its toys to discharge its wrath? 
 Did you ever see a schoolboy, unable to wreak his 
 anger on the bigger boy who has just struck him, 
 turn against the nearest smaller boy and beat him ? 
 Did you ever know a schoolmaster, angered by one of 
 the boy's parents, vent his pent-up spleen upon the 
 unoffending class 1 Did you ever see a subaltern 
 punished because an officer had been reprimanded 1 
 These are familiar examples of vicarious vengeance. 
 When the soul is stung to fury, it must solace itself 
 by the discharge of that fury — it must relieve its 
 pain by the sight of pain in others. We are so con- 
 stituted. We need sympathy above all things. In 
 joy we cannot bear to see others in distress ; in dis- 
 tress we see the joy of others with dismal envy which 
 sharpens our pain. That is human nature."
 
 84 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " And," I exclaimed, carried away by my indigna- 
 tion, " you suppose that the sight of these tAvo happy 
 girls, beaming with the quiet joy of brides, was tor- 
 ture to some miserable wretch Avho had lost his 
 bride." 
 
 I had gone too far. His eyes looked into mine. 
 I read in his that he divined the whole drift of my 
 suspicion — the allusion made to himself. There often 
 passes into a look more than words can venture to 
 express. In that look he read that he was discovered, 
 and I read that he had recognised it. With perfect 
 calmness, but with a metallic ring in his voice which 
 was like the clash of swords, he said — 
 
 " I did not say that I supposed this ; but as we 
 Avere on the Avide field of conjecture — utterly Avithout 
 evidence one Avay or the other, having no clue either 
 to the man or his motives — I drcAv from the general 
 principles of human nature a conclusion Avhich Avas 
 just as plausible — or absurd if you like — as the con- 
 clusion that the motive must have been A'anity." 
 
 " As you say, Ave are utterly Avithout evidence, and 
 conjecture drifts aimlessly from one thing to another. 
 After all, the most plausible explanation is that of a 
 contagion of imitation." 
 
 I said this in order to cover my previous impru- 
 dence. He Avas not deceived — though for a fcAV mo- 
 ments I fancied he Avas — but replied — 
 
 " I am not persuaded of that either. The Avhole 
 thing is a mystery, and I shall stay here some time in
 
 BOURGONEF. 85 
 
 the hope of seeing it cleared up. Meanwhile, for a 
 subject of conjecture, let me show you something on 
 which your ingenuity may profitably be employed." 
 
 He rose and passed into his bedroom. I heard 
 him unlocking and rummaging the drawers, and Avas 
 silently reproaching myself for my want of caution in 
 having spoken as I had done, though it was now be- 
 yond all doubt that he was the murderer, and that 
 his motive had been rightly guessed ; but with this 
 self-reproach there was mingled a self-gratulation at 
 the way I had got out of the difficulty, as I fancied. 
 
 He returned, and as he sat down I noticed that the 
 lower part of his surtout was open. He always wore 
 a long frogged and braided coat reaching to tlie knees 
 — as I now know, for the purpose of concealing the 
 arm which hung (as he said, withered) at his side. 
 The two last fastenings were now undone. 
 
 He held in his hand a tiny chain made of very 
 delicate wire. This he gave me, saying — 
 
 " Now what should you conjecture that to be 1 " 
 
 " Had it come into my hands without any remark, 
 I should have said it was simply a very exquisite bit 
 of iron-work ; but your question points to something 
 more out of the way." 
 
 " It is iron- work," he said. 
 
 Could I be deceived? A third fastening of his 
 surtout was undone ! I had seen but two a moment 
 
 ago. 
 
 " And what am I to conjecture 1 " I asked.
 
 86 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " Where that iron came from 1 It was not from a 
 mine." 
 
 I looked at it again, and examined it attentively. 
 On raising my eyes in inquiry — fortunately with an 
 expression of surprise, since what met my eyes would 
 have startled a cooler man — I saw the fourth fasten- 
 ing undone ! 
 
 "You look surprised," he continued, " and will be 
 more surprised when I tell you that the iron in your 
 hands once floated in the circidation of a man. It is 
 made from human blood." 
 
 " Human blood ! " I murmured. 
 
 He went on expounding the physiological wonders 
 of the blood, — how it carried, dissolved in its cur- 
 rents, a proportion of iron and earths ; how this iron 
 was extracted by chemists and exhibited as a curi- 
 osity ; and how this chain had been manufactured 
 from such extracts. I heard every word, but my 
 thoughts Avere hurrying to and fro in the agitation of 
 a supreme moment. That there was a dagger under- 
 neath that coat — that in a few moments it would 
 flash forth — that a death-struggle was at hand, — I 
 knew Avell. ]\Iy safety depended on presence of 
 mind. That incalculable rapidity with which, in 
 critical moments, tlie mmd surveys all the openings 
 and resources of an emergency, had assured me that 
 there was no Aveapon within reach — that before I 
 could give an alarm the tiger would be at my throat, 
 and that my only chance was to keep my eyes fixed
 
 BOURGONEF. 87 
 
 upon him, ready to spring on liim the moment the 
 next fastening was undone, and before he could use 
 his arm. 
 
 At last the idea occurred to me, that as, with a 
 \7ild beast, safety lies in attacking him just before he 
 attacks you, so with this beast my best chance was 
 audacity. Looking steadily into his face, I said 
 slowly — 
 
 " And you would like to have such a chain made 
 from ,-mj blood." I rose as I spoke. He remained 
 sitting, but was evidently taken aback. 
 
 " What do you mean 1 " he said. 
 
 " I mean," said I, sternly, " that your coat is un- 
 fastened, and that if another fastening is loosened in 
 my presence, I fell you to the earth." 
 
 " You're a fool ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 I moved towards the door, keeping my eye fixed 
 upon him as he sat pale and glaring at me. 
 
 "You are a fool," I said — "and worse, if you 
 stir." 
 
 At this moment, I know not by what sense, as if I 
 had eyes at the back of my head, I was aware of some 
 one moving behind me, yet I dared not look aside. 
 Suddenly two mighty folds of darkness seemed to 
 envelop me like arms. A powerful scent ascended 
 my nostrils. There was a ringing in my ears, a beat- 
 ing at my heart. Darkness came on, deeper and 
 deeper, like huge waves. I seemed growing to gigan- 
 tic stature. The waves rolled on faster and faster.
 
 88 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 The ringing became a roaring. The beating became 
 a throbbing. Lights flashed across the darkness. 
 Forms moved before me. On came the waves hurry- 
 ing like a tide, and I sank deeper and deeper into 
 this mighty sea of darkness. Then all was silent. 
 Consciousness Avas still. 
 
 How long I remained unconscious, I cannot tell. 
 But it must have been some considerable time. 
 When consciousness once more began to dawn within 
 me, I found myself lying on a bed surrounded by a 
 group of eager, Avatching faces, and became aware of 
 a confused murmur of whispering going on around 
 me. " Er lebt " (he lives) were the words which 
 greeted my opening eyes— words which I recognised 
 as coming from my landlord. 
 
 I had had a very narrow escape. Another moment 
 and I should not have lived to tell the tale. The 
 dagger that had already immolated two of Bourgonef's 
 objects of vengeance would have been in my breast. 
 As it was, at the very moment when the terrible Ivan 
 had thrown his arms round me and Avas stifling me 
 with chloroform, one of the servants of the hotel, 
 alarmed or attracted by curiosity at the sound of high 
 Avords Avithin the room, had ventured to open the 
 door to see Avhat Avas going on. The alarm had been 
 given, and Bourgonef had been arrested and handed 
 over to the police. Ivan, however, had disappeared ; 
 nor were the police ever able to find him. This mat-
 
 BOUKGONEF. 89 
 
 tered comparatively little. Ivan without his master 
 was no more redoubtable than any other noxious ani- 
 mal. As an accomplice, as an instrument to execute 
 the Will of a man like Bourgonef, he was a danger to 
 society. The directing intelligence withdrawn, he 
 sank to the level of the brute. I was not uneasy, 
 therefore, at his having escaped. Sufl&cient for me 
 that the real criminal, the Mind that had conceived 
 and directed those fearful murders, was at last in the 
 hands of justice. I felt that my task had been fully 
 accomplished Avhen Bourgonef's head fell on the 
 scaffold.
 
 T II M A S. 
 
 BY MES ^Y. K. CLIFFORD. 
 [MAGA. June ISST.] 
 
 rpHE most remarkable thing about this httle history 
 -L is that it is quite true. If I knew how, I would 
 make it into a real story going on from month to 
 month in a magazine. But I could never invent the 
 love-making, and without love a story is nothing. I 
 should never know, for instance, what to make May 
 and the Doctor say to each other. So I had better 
 put doAvn Thomas's story just as it all happened, and 
 leave fiction to cleverer folk. 
 
 Twenty years ago and more, after my husband 
 died, I lived in what was then a new street near 
 Westbourne Terrace. It consisted of two rows of 
 houses — very ugly houses outside, though inside they 
 were comfortable enough. I had three little girls ; 
 the eldest, ^lay, was just live, a pretty little thing
 
 THOMAS. 91 
 
 with golden hair and bh:e eyes ; I often wish I had 
 had her portrait painted. The others were quite 
 tiny — four, and two and a half. The last was horn 
 a week before the news came from India that her 
 father had died of sunstroke. 
 
 Opposite to us there was a house to be let. For a 
 long time it was quite empty, bill in the window, 
 dirt on the windows, dust on the steps, dreary and 
 deserted. Suddenly one morning, though the bill 
 was not taken down, the windows were cleaned, the 
 steps swept, and a small cart-load of shabby furniture 
 carried in. Evidently a care-taker had been put in 
 charge, and I was glad of it, for it is never very safe 
 to leave a house absolutely empty. 
 
 I used to sit by the window a good deal and knit. 
 I had so much to think about that I could not settle 
 to anything else. Books were never much in my 
 way, and as for going out I never cared for it much 
 even as a girl. So I used to sit and knit, seeing 
 through the thick screen of plants on the window-sill 
 all that went on in the street. Sometimes I saAv the 
 care-taker opposite going in and out, he and his wife 
 and their two little children. He looked very respect- 
 able, but broken down and terribly thin ; he was evi- 
 dently far gone in consumption. The woman seemed 
 worried and anxious, as well she might, poor soul; 
 and in her arms there was always a skinny little baby, 
 her third child. They were of the artisan class, and 
 of course very poor, or they would not have been
 
 92 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD."- 
 
 taking care of an empty house. I used to wonder if 
 they had enough to eat, for they all looked white and 
 thin and half-starved. 
 
 The next time I went to the landlord's office I 
 asked about them, and was told that they were re- 
 spectable Cornish people, but Cornwall was starvation 
 now, and there was nothing for any one to do. They 
 had come to London a feAv years before, and the man, 
 who was a mechanic, had kept his family well till he 
 broke down in health. He could do nothing now, was 
 an outdoor patient at Brompton Hospital, and had only 
 the alloAvance from his club, and the few shillings his 
 wife sometimes earned by going out to work. 
 
 There was a large leg of mutton for the children's 
 dinner the next day. I cut off half-a-dozen good 
 slices, put them between two hot dishes with some 
 vegetable, and sent them to the Cornish folk. They 
 Avere very grateful, the servant said, when she re- 
 turned, and the dishes were brought back by the 
 little boy, with "Father's much obliged, and it did 
 him a world of good." One day a box of flowers 
 came from the country, so I made up a nosegay and 
 sent it across to the poor wasted-looking care-taker. 
 This brought the woman, with tears in her eyes, to 
 thank me. 
 
 " 'Mj husband he do like to smell a flower, ma'am," 
 she said. " It's many a day now since he has seen 
 them "rowinff in the OTOund." Then I asked her if 
 I might go and see him sometimes, or perhaps he
 
 THOMAS. 93 
 
 would like a paper and some tooks now and then ? 
 The woman's face brightened. " He would be pleased, 
 ma'am, indeed," she said. " It's long since any one 
 went to talk to him, and I often think it's dull for 
 him, I doubt if I have him much longer," she 
 added, simply ; " and it's likely you can feel for me, 
 ma'am." 
 
 So I went over to see Mr Lobb. He was sitting 
 by the fire, warming his long thin hands. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, ma'am," he said, with the 
 almost perfect manner one sometimes finds among 
 working people Avho have not lived much in towns. 
 " I would have come over to thank you for your 
 kindness, but feared you might think it a liberty. 
 I spend most of my time trying to keep warm by a 
 bit of fire." 
 
 He was very simple and kindly. He knew that 
 he was going to die, and faced it like a man. He 
 spoke of it without fear or affectation. " It worries 
 me to think of the wife and children," he said, " A 
 man should not marry as I did, with nothing j)ut by. 
 I subscribed to a club, of course, and it's kept us 
 from starving, and it'll bury me, but that's all. I 
 ought to have saved before I married, and so ought 
 every man. One is always so sure one is going to 
 live when one feels strong. Well, God is good, and 
 He'll take care of them," he added with a sigh, and a 
 month later in that simple faith he died. 
 
 Then it became a question of what was to be done
 
 94 TALES FKOM '"BLACKWOOD." 
 
 -with the widow and children. The woman was deli- 
 cate ; there was the skinny baby, a little girl of six 
 called Gracie, and Thomas, — they always called him 
 by his full old-fashioned name, — who was ten, or 
 barely ten, 
 
 " I would like to stay in London ; there's more 
 going on, and I'd be more likely to get something," 
 the poor woman said, when a proposal was made to 
 send her back to her native place. " They be very 
 poor in Cornwall where I come from ; it would be no 
 good going back ; father and mother are dead, and 
 there was only one other of us, my brother Joe, and 
 he went off to Melbourne long ago." 
 
 " Couldn't you send to him 1 " I asked ; "he might 
 do something for you." 
 
 " I have sent, ma'am," she answered ; " but I 
 don't know if he's got the letter. "We never kept 
 much count of his address, for he never had the 
 same one long together. I don't expect he'd be able 
 to do anything ; he was never much of a hand at 
 helping himself, let alone others." 
 
 So we got together a little money and bought her a 
 mangle. She went to live in two rooms close by, and 
 just kept soul and body together for herself and chil- 
 dren by mangling and occasionally going out to work. 
 
 Suddenly one day my housemaid went off without 
 a moment's notice to her mother who was ill, and 
 poor Mvs Lobb was unable to come and help us on 
 account of her baby, " I can't bear to refuse," the
 
 THOMAS. 95 
 
 poor thing said, " but the little baby is that bad with 
 Iji'onchitus, I doubt if I keep it through the winter." 
 
 Then it was that Thomas first came into our lives. 
 I had hardly noticed him before, except as a little 
 dark-haired boy too small for his age. The morniBg 
 after Jane went, I was told he wanted to see me. I 
 remember the interview as well as if it were yester- 
 day. I was in the dining-room when he knocked. 
 " Come in," I said, and in came Thomas. He 
 stepped just inside and pulled his front hair. Evi- 
 dently he had been instructed that that was the 
 correct way of making a bow. 
 
 " Please, mum," he said shyly, " mother says as 
 how you have no housemaid, so I came to ask if you 
 would like me to help a bit." 
 
 " You, Thomas ! " 
 
 "Please, mum, I does for mother, sweeps and 
 scrubs and dusts and washes up the things. Mother 
 said I was to tell you I could clean knives and boots 
 beautiful." He looked down as he said the last words, 
 as though he felt ashamed at praising himself, and 
 nothing but necessity would have driven him to do it. 
 
 " Why, you have quite a list of accomplishments, 
 Thomas," I answered, and laughed, but he was evi- 
 dently very anxious. 
 
 " Or I could take care of the children — the young 
 ladies, I mean " — he said, correcting himself ; " then 
 perhaps nurse could help." He was quite a manager, 
 and had evidently thought out how matters could be
 
 96 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 arranged so as to make the best of things. " I am 
 vised to children. I have always taken care of ours," 
 he added gravely, and the " ours " showed that he 
 did not put himself on a level with his sister ; " and 
 I have pushed a peramhidator often for INIrs Hicks, 
 the grocer's wife, since her husband has been laid up, 
 and her in the shop." I thought how funny he would 
 look pushing my two babies along with one hand, 
 and with the other holding little May, as she toddled 
 beside him, and wondered what my most kind but 
 proper mother-in-law would say if she met them. ]\Iy 
 mother-in-law always kept me well in hand, and 
 does still, though I am getting to be an old woman. 
 There is one thing I simply dread her finding out, — 
 but that will appear by-and-by. 
 
 "Well, no, Thomas, I don't think we can make 
 you head-nurse," I said. " But you can come in the 
 morning and clean the knives and boots. You are 
 quite sure ' you can do them beautiful ' ? " 
 
 " Yes, quite sure, mum," he answered, looking up 
 with his great dark eyes. 
 
 So Thomas came every day, and M-as the comfort 
 of my life. He was very quiet and attentive. AVhen 
 he carried in the coals he always looked round to see 
 if there were letters to post or anything he could do ; 
 he always saw when my plants wanted watering or 
 the leaves wanted washing. Even cook, who was 
 difficult to please, said he " was a downright blessing." 
 The only vexing thing was that Avhenever he had a
 
 THOMAS. 97 
 
 chance he wovild creep up to the nursery and play 
 with the children. He adored May, and used to 
 carry her up-stairs when she came in from her walk. 
 She was delighted to let him do it, putting her arms 
 round his neck, and looking up at him with her clear 
 blue eyes. He was so careful with the children that 
 in the afternoon nurse sometimes left him on guard 
 while she Avas down-stairs. 
 
 "Thomas," I said one day, "what is that stickmg 
 out of your pocket 1 " He turned very red and pulled 
 liis hair. 
 
 "Please, mum, it's a pipe." 
 " A pipe ! Where did you get it ] " 
 " Bought it, mum." 
 
 " But you are not going to smoke, I hope 1 " He 
 tried hard not to laugh, but the idea of smoking was 
 too much for him. 
 
 " Please, mum, I bought it to teach Miss May how 
 to blow bubbles," he said, Avith as grand an air as if 
 he had bought it to teach her Arabic. 
 
 Another week, and Jane returned. Thomas got a 
 place at a paper-shop, and carried out papers every 
 morning; but on Saturday afternoons he generally 
 paid cook a visit, and went up to see the children. 
 One day I discovered that he had a voice. Going 
 past the nursery door, I heard May say — 
 
 "Yes, do sing it again, please, Thomas," and then 
 a weak little voice began — 
 
 T.s. — I. ®
 
 98 TALES FEOM " BLACKAYOOD." 
 
 " A little seed is in the ground, 
 A little tiny seed ; 
 AVhen it grows up what will it be, 
 A flower or a weed ? " 
 
 I opened the door. " Why, Thomas," I said, " I 
 didn't know you could sing." 
 
 " Please, mum, mother taught me," he said ; " she 
 sings beautiful, and so do little Gracie." 
 
 Then that tune came in "which INIay fell ill. There 
 was hardly a hope of her recovery. And through 
 all those sad days none grieved more than Thomas. 
 Every morning, as soon as cook came down, she 
 heard a tap at the kitchen window, and there stood 
 Thomas at the bottom of the area steps, pale and 
 anxious. She used to open the window, and before 
 she could speak the eager voice would say — 
 
 " How is Miss May ? — is she any worse ? — has she 
 slept 1 " And on that terrible night when we thought 
 she was dying, Thomas sat at the end of the kitchen 
 by the side-table white and silent, waiting with burn- 
 ing eyes and a breathless misery that almost seemed 
 to suffocate him. Late that night Jane went doAvn 
 and reported, " The doctor says she is a little better." 
 Thomas sprang to his feet for one moment, then sat 
 down again, and resting his face on his arm on the 
 table sobbed bitterly. 
 
 "When !May was better, Thomas was taken up to 
 see her. He stopped for a moment outside her door 
 as if to gather strength, and felt his side - pocket
 
 THOMAS. 99 
 
 anxiously : there was something there that bulged, 
 but I pretended not to see it. He drew a long breath 
 as he entered her room. 
 
 *' Are you better, INIiss May 1 " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, thank you, Thomas, dear," she said. 
 
 " You've been very bad," and he shook his head 
 mournfully. 
 
 " Poor Thomas ! " she sighed, just as if she knew 
 all that he had suffered. 
 
 " I don't know what we should have done if you 
 hadn't got better. Miss May." 
 
 "Do you know any more songs 1" she asked. He 
 shook his head : he had had no heart for songs. 
 
 " I kept your garden in order," he said ; " the 
 primroses are coming up, and there's three snow- 
 drops out." 
 
 " I am so glad. What's that in your pocket, 
 sticking out?" 
 
 " It's the mice," he answered, smiling for the first 
 time. "I've had 'em this fortnight ready against 
 you was better. Miss May," and then with a sigh of 
 satisfaction he brought them out. 
 
 A little later in the spring brought us the last 
 of Thomas. May was well. The gardener had just 
 been to see about doing i;p the garden. I was sit- 
 ting in the dining-room making up my books with 
 the weekly expenses, wondering how it was that 
 something extra always swelled them. There was a 
 knock at the door.
 
 100 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " Come in," I said, and in came Thomas, of course. 
 
 " Please, mum, I'm come to say good-bye," he said, 
 pulling his front hair as usual. 
 
 " Good-bye ! why, where are you going ] " 
 
 " Going to Australia, mum." 
 
 I was quite astonished. 
 
 " Has your uncle sent for you 1 " 
 
 " i^o, mum ; but there's a gentleman who's been 
 coming on and off to our shop a good deal, and he's 
 captain of a ship. I always wanted to go about a 
 bit, and he's offered to take me free for my work, 
 and bring me back or drop me in Melbourne, which 
 I like. I think it's a good thing, mum," he added, 
 in his old-fashioned way. " I don't see that I can 
 come to much good at a paper-shop." 
 
 " Xo, Thomas, perhaps not." 
 
 " And I wants to get on and help mother," he 
 said, lifting his face and looking at me proudly. 
 " Perhaps I might come across uncle out at Mel- 
 bourne ; and anyhow I'll know more, and have seen 
 more, when I have been there and back, than I do 
 now. The gentleman that's taking me, too, says the 
 sea will make me strong and set me off growing. I 
 shan't be any good if I'm not strong." 
 
 "Perhaps you arc right." 
 
 "It's hard work leaving mother," he said with a 
 little gasp. " But she's keen on my going, because 
 she thinks I might meet uncle, but I don't like leav- 
 ing of her, and T don't like leaving the two little
 
 THOMAS. 101 
 
 'uns." The tears came into his clear eyes, but he 
 struggled manfully to keep them back ; and then he 
 added, "And I don't like leaving Miss INIay. I 
 couldn't ha' gone if she hadn't been better." 
 
 " And when do you start 1 " 
 
 " To-morrow, mum ; it's very sudden-like, but they 
 say chances always is. I came to say good - bye. 
 May I go up to the young ladies V I took him up 
 to the nursery myself. He looked at the children 
 Avith the face of one who had suddenly grown older 
 and knew much, and was going to know more. He 
 explained all about his journey to them, and why he 
 was going, just as if they had been old enough to 
 understand, and then he gravely and sorrowfully 
 shook hands with them all three and with nurse. 
 
 "I don't want you to go," May said. "I want 
 you to stay here. When will you come back 1 " 
 
 " I don't know when, but I'll come, Miss May ; 
 never fear but I'll come back. Your garden is 
 all in order," he added. " Maybe the gardener will 
 look after it a bit now." They followed him, the 
 three children and nurse, to the head of the stairs, 
 and stood looking through and over the banisters. 
 
 " Good-bye, good-bye," called ]\Iay and the others, 
 Avatching him descend. 
 
 " Good-bye," he said. 
 
 " Good-bye," and suddenly May's little shoe, which 
 was unbuttoned, fell through the railing on to the 
 stairs beneath, touching him as it fell.
 
 102 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " It's good luck," nurse called out. " It's real 
 good luck, Thomas ; she's dropped her shoe after 
 you." He picked it up and looked at it, a little old 
 shoe, with a hole nearly through at the toe. 
 
 " Please, mum, may I keep it 1 " he asked, with a 
 smile, and when I nodded, he looked up at her with 
 a satisfied face. " I'll take it. Miss May, I'm going 
 to keep it. It'll go all the way with me in the 
 ship." He stopped in the hall, and turned round. 
 " Please, mum," he said, and pulled his hair once 
 more, " I want to say Thank you for all your kind- 
 ness. You's allays been a good friend to us," he added 
 approvingly. 
 
 "And you have been a good boy, Thomas," I 
 answered gratefully, " and I know that you'll be 
 one still." 
 
 "I'll try, for mother's sake, and yours, and Miss 
 May's," he said, and strode sturdily towards the 
 street door. 
 
 " You must shake hands with me too, Thomas," I 
 said, and gave him a sovereign. He took the gold 
 in silence, turning it over in surprise, as if to be 
 sure that it was real. He looked such a baby while 
 he did so that I wondered if the captain of the ship 
 had taken a fancy to his pale face and sad eyes, or 
 what hard work he thought those small hands could 
 do. Poor little Thomas, going alone to the other 
 side of the world, leaving all ho cared for here, my 
 heart went out to him. Did not his mother bear him
 
 THOMAS. 103 
 
 with the same pains that I had borne my children ? 
 Had she not once looked at him with the strange 
 wonder that I had looked at my first little one 1 And 
 now her heart would aclie whenever a wind swept 
 by, and she thought of the little lad at sea, trying to 
 get strong in order to take care of her by-and-by. I 
 thought of how he had sat and sobbed the night he 
 heard that JMay was better, of how I had seen his 
 father lying dead with the surprised smile on his face, 
 as though he had seen the heavenly city — what 
 would he say now, I Avondered, if he could see his 
 son starting alone out into the world 1 
 
 "Good-bye, dear little lad," I said. " IMay you 
 grow strong, and be a brave and good man," and 
 I stooped and kissed him. Thomas said not a word ; 
 but I knew that he was crying, as he strode towards 
 the door. 
 
 Mrs Lobb got on pretty well after her boy went, 
 Eut sorrow overtook her again : the poor skinny 
 little baby died. Life could never have been a joy 
 to it. Surely it Avas a blessing in disguise when 
 death took it. 
 
 II. 
 
 Eighteen years liad gone by. The Lobbs had 
 passed altogether out of my life. Thomas liad never 
 come back. I heard that he had found his uncle in
 
 104: TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 ISIelboiirne, and had gone ^vit]l liini to Graham's 
 Town, in South Africa. From there the uncle had 
 sent for j\Irs Lobb and Gracie, and tliat was the 
 last I knew of them, or ever expected to know. 
 
 I had given up the house in which we had lived 
 so long in England, and settled at Liitry, near 
 Lausanne, where living and education were cheaper 
 than in England. There the years slipped aAvay 
 peacefully enough till the three girls were grown up 
 — ^till j\Iay was a woman of three-and-twenty. She 
 Avas a pretty girl, just as she had been a pretty child, 
 and at three-and-twenty looked eighteen, — a tall slim 
 girl, with golden hair and blue eyes, and a merry 
 happy laugh it did one good to hear. I used to 
 wonder sometimes if she would ever marry. But we 
 did not know a soul in Lutry, and indeed, from a 
 marrying point of view, there was not a soul to know. 
 "We were going back to England, noAV that even Xina, 
 the youngest girl, was grown up, to settle down in a 
 pretty house at Ilampstead. There I thought the 
 ojirls would see a little more of the world, and their 
 lives woidd shape themselves into the course they 
 were meant to run. 
 
 Then my sister Elizabeth, wlio is unmarried, and 
 alone and delicate, went to winter at liome, and in- 
 vited ^fay to go with her. T could not refuse to let 
 her go ; but we felt parting, for we had never been 
 separated. Still it coukl not T)e helped. So May 
 went off with her aunt, who came all the way to
 
 THOMAS. 105 
 
 Liitry to fetch, her, ami I with the two other girls 
 returned to England. 
 
 "We had plenty to do at Hampstead, getting 
 the house in order and settling down ; and we 
 spent a happy winter, even though May was not 
 with us. AVe used to delight in her letters from 
 Eome, and long for the spring that would see her 
 with us. 
 
 jMy sister was an excellent correspondent, and she 
 used to write to me every week, telling us of all their 
 gaieties and of the admiration May won — even of all 
 her little flirtations. I think Elizabeth was proud of 
 her. Gradually into both their letters there crept 
 frequent mention of a young English doctor, of whom 
 they appeared to see a great deal. He was hand- 
 some, and very popular. He had been to tea, he 
 had seen them home from a party, he had got up a 
 picnic, and so on. At last I began, mother-like, to 
 wonder if he w,as falling m love with ]\Iay or she 
 with him, to feel anxious as to Avhat sort of a man he 
 was, and whether he was capable of playing fast and 
 loose with my child's innocent heart that had never 
 known a lover. 
 
 As time went on. May's letters contained more and 
 more about him. " I)r ISIillet asked so much about 
 you, dear mother. I told him everything I could 
 about you. He said he felt as if he loved you." 
 " Dr Millet says he shall be in England soon ; but 
 we hope he won't go before we do, — we should miss
 
 106 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 liim SO." And at last, in Elizabeth's letter, there was 
 something definite. " I am certain Dr Millet is in 
 love with May, and I am almost certain the dear 
 child has lost her heart to him. It makes me very 
 anxious, you not being here. At the same time, 
 I don't know why things should not be allowed to 
 take their natural course, for he is very charming, 
 and is getting an excellent practice round him." So 
 I waited anxiovisly, feeling that there was nothing to 
 be done but to wait. The next letter worried me a 
 little. " His manner is very distant," Elizabeth said. 
 " In spite of his evident liking for her, he seems to 
 be trying to hold off. Sometimes I can't make him 
 out. Perhaps he does not want to marry, or thinks 
 he has no chance." And after that came a climax, —   
 I think it was in the very next letter. " Dr Millet 
 has put some one in charge of his practice and has 
 gone away. He did not come to see us before he 
 went, and he made no mention of going last time he 
 was here. I do not know where he has gone, nor 
 how long he will be away. Our dear May tries to 
 look as if she did not care ; but I fear she is secretly 
 grieving." 
 
 The letter fell from my hands. It worried me 
 terribly. To tliink of May loving a man who had 
 perhaps deserted her, — it Avas not to be borne. I 
 knew what a sorrow of that sort does to a young life 
 — the desolation, nay, perhaps the lifelong misery, it 
 brings. And yet, if the man was a scoundrel, 1
 
 THOMAS. 107 
 
 could not believe that so pure a thing as May's love 
 could cling to him. 
 
 The next morning brought a letter from May her- 
 self that showed only too plainly how things were. 
 " Aunt Elizabeth is very, very kind to me," she said. 
 " I would not leave her for the world ; but I am so 
 tired of Rome and of all the people in it. I want to 
 see you again, dear mother. I don't think I am very 
 well, and I am not happy, darling. I long to go to 
 you and to feel your dear arms round me again." 
 
 Alice and Xina had gone into town early. I was 
 alone with that poor little letter, feeling all the pain, 
 all the sorrow, that had suddenly come into my child's 
 life, — it needed no words to tell me. I sat stupefied, 
 trying to decide what would be best to do. Eliza- 
 beth was too delicate to come back to England before 
 the March winds were over. Perhaps I could take 
 one of the other girls to her and bring May back. I 
 felt as if she Avanted her mother's heart to comfort 
 her and give her strength. 
 
 I got up and put a log on the fire, for we had not 
 yet reconciled ourselves to the English fashion of 
 burning coal, then walked about the room, looking 
 vacantly at the polished floor and all the pretty new 
 things about the room. It Avas a lovely morning : 
 the sun Avas shinint' down on the trim lawn and neat 
 garden, the snowdrops Avere coming up in the corner- 
 bed. I thought of jNIay, and of hoAV pretty she Avould 
 look in the summer-time pottering about among the
 
 108 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 flowers, if she Avere only briglit and well. She had 
 so often longed for an English garden. Then looking 
 down the road, I noticed a tall man a long way off. 
 He was coming towards the house. As he came 
 nearer I could see that he looked like a "entleman. 
 He was tall and dark ; he appeared to be about 
 thirty years old, perhaps yoimger, and he was cer- 
 tainly handsome. He stopped before the gate and 
 for a moment hesitated ; then he opened it and en- 
 tered. I watched him coming along the gravel walk 
 by the lawn ; I saw him disappear under the porch, 
 and heard the bell rmg. In some odd way he seemed 
 to be familiar to me. The servant entered with a 
 card. Before I took it, I knew perfectly that it was 
 Dr Millet's, and that a crisis was at hand, — that in 
 an hour's time May's future would be no mystery. 
 The next moment he entered. I could not remember 
 Avhere I had seen him before, but he was not strange 
 to me. He had a good face, clever and thoughtful ; 
 he looked like a simple-hearted honest gentleman. 
 There Avas something sad about the face, too, as if he 
 had suffered much, or understood suffering. 
 
 " i\rrs Standing ? " and he came forward with 
 a curiously eager smile, as if in some way he 
 knew me. 
 
 "Yes," I answered, looking at him again. Even 
 his voice was lialf familiar, yet I could not remember 
 where I liad lieard it before. 
 
 " You do not know mo," lie went on. " 1 liave
 
 THOMAS. 109 
 
 just arrived from Eonie. I know your daughter and 
 sister there, and I thought you would forgive nie for 
 coming — I could not help it." The last Avords were 
 said to himself, and seemed to have escaped hun. 
 
 "I have heard of you," I said. "Won't you sit 
 down ? I am glad to see you." For he stood look- 
 ing at me in an eager way, which I accounted for 
 easily, but still it embarrassed me. " Did they ask 
 you, or was it your own kindness that prompted you 
 to come and tell me about them V I asked, trying to 
 put him at ease, for now that I had seen him I was 
 satisfied. Something in the tone of liis voice, in the 
 expression of his face, told me that lie was not the 
 man to win a girl's heart and throw it away ; and 
 there was about him that Avhich made me feel that 
 the woman he loved would have little cause to fear 
 anything that was in him. A great deal to find out 
 perhaps all in a few moments, and from looking at a 
 man's face ; but there are some people whom just to 
 see is enough, and about Avhom our instincts are 
 unfailing. 
 
 " They did not ask me to come," he answered, in a 
 low voice. " They did not even know that I was 
 coming, though it was for this interview that I left 
 Eome and hurried to England, I came trusting to 
 your kindness to make my visit less difficxdt than it 
 might be." He seemed overtaken by a great awk- 
 wardness, but I did not know what to say, and was 
 silent. He Avent on suddenly, as if with a gasp, " I
 
 110 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 wanted to see you very much, I have so much to say, 
 though I am a stranger, or you think me one ; and — 
 and I am afraid to begin. Your answer means so 
 much to me." Then he loved the child ! But there 
 Avas something behind his words — some obstacle, I 
 was certain of that-^some past to confess, something 
 that made him doubtful of the future. 
 
 " Why are you afraid V I asked ; but for a moment 
 or two he made no answer. I waited, looking at him, 
 wondering again where before I had looked into those 
 grave, almost sad eyes. 
 
 " Do you remember Thomas 1 " he asked abruptly 
 — "Thomas Lobb?" 
 
 I nearly jumped off my chair. But no, it could 
 not be ! 
 
 " Yes— but " 
 
 '' I am Thomas," he said, simply. '• 1 used to 
 clean your knives and boots, and you bought my 
 mother a mangle. I never forgot your kindness. I 
 have often longed to see you and thank you." 
 
 " But where have you been all these years ? " I 
 asked, still gasping with astonishment. 
 
 " To many places. I was in England for a long 
 time, at an hospital ; but you were abroad, and 
 though I tried I could not find out your address. 
 Besides, I was afraid. I had better say it at once," 
 he went on desperately ; " but I did not want to see 
 your daughter again. I have been in love with her 
 all my life. She was a goddess to me, — a queen. I
 
 THOMAS. Ill 
 
 never even dreamed of hoping. I met her again all 
 in a moment one night at Eome. I was thinking of 
 her and looked up, and she was there. She did not 
 know me, she does not now ; but I knew her — I did 
 directly — though she was only five when I saw her 
 last." 
 
 He hurried over the words quickly, as if he wished 
 me to knoAV the gist of what he had come to say as 
 quickly as possible. 
 
 " Where is your mother 1 " I asked, thinking of the 
 poor soul with the Cornish accent, carrying the skinny 
 little baby in her arms, and of his father, as I saw 
 him first, a dying man, warming his long thin hands 
 by the fire in the empty house, 
 
 " My mother does not keep a mangle now," he 
 said, with a short laugh. I think I should have 
 known him before if he had laughed. " She is rich, 
 and lives near my sister, who is married to a diamond- 
 merchant in South Africa. It sounds terribly pros- 
 perous, does it not 1 " 
 
 '■ But tell me about yourself," I said. " How is it 
 that you went away Thomas Lobb and come back 
 Dr Millet of Eome? It is too puzzling altogether." 
 
 " I found my rich uncle," he answered. " I re- 
 member telling you that my mother thought I might, 
 and I did. One always finds a rich uncle in a story ; 
 but I found mine at Melbourne. He had married 
 and lost both wife and child, and was just going off 
 to the diamond-fields in South Africa. He took me
 
 112 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD.' 
 
 in hand first, and Avas very good to me in his rougli 
 way. His ambition was to make me a gentleman ; 
 but that was Nature's business, perhaps. She has 
 failed," he said, with a smile. " However, he put 
 me to school while he went ojff to the diamond-fields, 
 and in a few years came back Avith his fortune to 
 fetch me. He was one of those men who are bound 
 to make fortunes and to lose them from sheer care- 
 lessness, though he died too soon to lose his last one. 
 He brought me to England and looked after me 
 while I was at the hospital." 
 
 " But how did you get to Eome VI asked, for he 
 had stojiped as if he could not go on without encour- 
 agement. 
 
 " He took me there, or perhaps I took him, for we 
 went together, partly because lie wanted to see Europe 
 and partly because he said he wanted to see if I really 
 could talk any language but my own, after all the 
 schooling for which he had paid. At Eome there 
 was a chance for another doctor, and there ultimately 
 I settled down. Uncle Joe went back to Graham's 
 Town and died." He stopped for a moment. " I 
 wish I liad been with him," he said in a low voice ; 
 " but I was not." 
 
 " Was he good to your mother "? " 
 
 " He was good to every one, in a rough way some- 
 times that one reproached one's self later on for not 
 better imderstanding. He was very good to my 
 mother and to Gracie, Avhom he also had educated.
 
 THOMAS. 113 
 
 He became very great on education in his latter years, 
 and used to say that money was thrown away on you 
 unless you knew how to spend it." 
 
 " How did you come to be called Millet 1 " I asked, 
 putting off as long as possible the great business of 
 his coming. I was so staggered, so taken aback, at 
 his proving to be Thomas. Moreover there was only 
 one thing for me to do, and not for ever be ashamed 
 of myself, and I knew it. Yet I could not bring 
 myself to do it heartily. 
 
 "He left me some money, and Avished me to take 
 his name, which was very like the rich uncle in the 
 story," he answered, with the fleeting smile that was 
 part of the fascination of his face. " I have not spent 
 any of it yet. My practice has been sufficient. I 
 
 kept it in case " He stopped, but still I Avent 
 
 on looking at him, as though I had been fascinated, 
 thinking of the days when he had carried up coals, 
 and taught INlay to blow bubbles. I could not help 
 it, it was snobby of me if you like, but in my heart 
 there was some pride. I knew that he had come to 
 ask me if he might try to win ]\Iay for his Avife. 
 May, my pretty one, my queen, Avhom I should have 
 thought too good for a king— he the boy who had 
 blacked our shoes, whose mother had kept a mangle ! 
 He seemed to read my thoughts like a letter. 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " I am the boy who used to clean 
 the knives and boots, and afterwards carried out 
 newspapers every morning." 
 
 T.a.- — I. H
 
 114 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " It doesn't matter in these days what any one has 
 been," I said, hesitatingly, ashamed that he should 
 have divined my thoughts so well. 
 
 " If she ever cares for me — it is too much to think 
 of, too great a happiness — but if she does," he went 
 on in a low voice, " perhaps she will be proud of it, 
 as I am. It Avas honest work," he said, in a stub- 
 born voice, " and pleasant too," he added gaily. " If 
 I had made my own position, I should be a proud 
 man, for being a doctor is of course a better thing 
 than carrying out papers ; but as it is, all the credit 
 goes to the rich uncle, and is none of mine." I was 
 silent, trying to remember who the well-known man 
 was who had been a shoe-black, and who it was had 
 sold oranges, and yet became a gTeat man. But it is 
 generally difficult to remember things at the right 
 moment. 
 
 " You were alwaj^s a good boy," 1 said, thinking 
 of the thin little face of long ago, and forgetting the 
 man before me. 
 
 " I am glad of that," he answered. " Do you re- 
 member my poor mother 1 " he Avent on, seeming as 
 if he were determined I should realise all the past. 
 " She kept a mangle and went out charing. She 
 does not like me to remember it noAv, and Gracie 
 quarrels Avith me if I mention it." And he laughed 
 the short quick laugh of a man Avho lias a sense of 
 humour but does not' ahvays betray it. " Do you 
 remember the day I Avished you all good-bye 1 hoAv,
 
 THOMAS. 115. 
 
 when I was going off to sea, a poor little boy without 
 a penny save the present you had given me, you 
 kissed me, just as if I had been your own son 1 It 
 has been my wild dream that some day I should be 
 really your son, — won't you let it come true t " he 
 asked eagerly, and leaning forward he tried to see 
 my face better. But I could not wring an answer 
 from myself. 
 
 " Does she know 1 " I asked, 
 
 " Does she know anything about this 1 — that I am 
 Thomas 1 No, nothing. That I love her 1 — I think 
 Yes. I would not speak to her until I had seen you, 
 and told you, and perhaps " 
 
 " That was like you, Thomas," I said. The old 
 name came naturally to my lips. "You were always 
 good." 
 
 "Was I]" he exclaimed. "I don't think so— 
 but I will be, if she will only have me, if you and she 
 will only put up with me. I love her with all my 
 heart. See what I have in my pocket. I brought it to 
 show you." He pulled out a little shoe with a hole 
 in the toe. " Do you remember how she dropped it on 
 my head ? " he asked. I nodded, but could not speak, 
 for I was killing the last little silly bit of pride left 
 in my heart. The man before me was a gentleman, 
 ten times more truly one than many born to be rich 
 and idle. How could I be so foolish as to hesitate 
 to give my child to a good and honourable man Avhom 
 I knew she loved 1 I have always hated myself for
 
 , IIG TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 my conduct that da3\ I think perhaps if it had been 
 any other person's shoes he had blacked, I shoukl not 
 have minded. If he had wanted to marry the daugh- 
 ter of my dearest friend, I should have assisted joy- 
 fully. It was only because it Avas ]May, whom I 
 should have thought too good for the king of all the 
 earth. 
 
 Then I looked at the shoe that was still in his 
 hand, and thought of how she had clung to the ban- 
 isters, calling out Good-bye ; of his upturned face — 
 the little anxious face — and the grave voice, saying 
 " I'll come back, Miss ^lay." JSTow he had come. 
 He was sitting there opposite to me, asking me to 
 give him leave to ask her to be his wife. 
 
 " Is it all right 1 " he asked, in a voice that showed 
 he could not bear my silence any longer. " If you 
 say 'No, I will go away, and never see her again. I 
 could not bear to win her without your consent — 
 only speak. You are not hesitating because we Avere 
 so poor, because there was a time when we were 
 starving, because — — " 
 
 " No, no ! " I interrupted, hating mj^self, and feel- 
 ing my heart go out to him. I could not say more — 
 there Avas something choking me. Tlie tears Avere 
 coming into my eyes, 
 
 "Then speak just one Avord. Is it all right ? " I 
 gave a little nod, for Avords had failed me. He got 
 up and Avalked about, a great joy Avritten on his 
 face, and flashing from liis eyes. " You trust me,
 
 THOMAS. 117 
 
 you "will really trust me 1 " he said, stopping before 
 nie. 
 
 "Yes, dear," I answered, " I will trust you." It 
 seemed as if he could not hear the words calmly. 
 He strode across the room, then came back and stood 
 before me again. 
 
 " I shall never be good enough for her — never," 
 he said, with a joyous laugh, — "never at my best; 
 and perhaps slie won't look at me. I am terribly 
 afraid of that. Do you think there is any chance 
 for meV 
 
 " I don't know," I answered, for I was not going 
 to betray my child's secret. 
 
 " Something deep down in my heart tells me that 
 there is," he said, simply. "Try to frigliten myself 
 as I will, I feel that she is the meaning of life to me. 
 Let me go ! " he exclaimed, suddenly — " I want to 
 be alone, and walk the streets iintil the train starts. 
 I cannot stay in a room any longer. I shall be in 
 Eome the day after to-morrow, and Avill telegraph." 
 He took my hands in both his, and looked at me 
 tenderly. " I remember the day you came to see us 
 first," he said ; " my father Avas sitting over the fire : 
 and how glad we used to be when the roast-mutton 
 came. You always sent enough for us all," he 
 laughed. " God bless you, dear mother ! " he added ; 
 and lifting my hands, kissed them both. " Wish me 
 good luck, when I ask my darling if slie loves me." 
 
 " I do — I will, with all my heart ! " I answered.
 
 118 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 The telegram came two days later : — 
 
 ^^ From your son Thomas and your daughter May. 
 — Our best love to you all. We are very happy." 
 
 And they are very happy still, and will be all their 
 lives. He lives in England now, and his name is 
 well known. May and I are very proud of him. 
 The other girls are both married too. One married 
 the son of a bishop ; but I fear it is not a very happy 
 marriage. !N"ina, the youngest, is a soldier's wife, as 
 I was, and quakes Avhenever France is arrogant, or 
 Germany buys a new big gun, and thinks there will 
 be war to-morrow morning. He is a good fellow, but 
 he is not like Thomas. My mother-in-law is still 
 alive ; and she is the one person in the family who 
 does not know oiir romance. She is a stern old lady, 
 proud of her descent from the Crauford-Greys ; and 
 she keeps me in order still, though I have married 
 daughters of my own. The amusing part of it is 
 that she is very proud of Thomas, and says it is odd 
 that the colonies should have produced so perfect a 
 gentleman. It was only the other day that she sent 
 him most of her late husband's books ; for she said 
 he was the only man in the family who would really 
 appreciate them.
 
 THE BRIGAND'S BRIDE: 
 
 A TALE OF SOUTHERN ITALY. 
 BY LAURENCE OLIPHANT. 
 
 [MAGA. Febeuaby 1884.] 
 
 THE Italian peninsula during the years 1859-60-61 
 offered a particularly tempting field for adven- 
 ture to ardent spirits in search of excitement ; and, 
 attracted partly by my sympathy with the popular 
 movement, and partly by that simple desire, which 
 gives so much zest to the life of youth, of risking it 
 on aU possible occasions, I had taken an active part, 
 chiefly as an officious spectator, in all the principal 
 events of those stirring years. It was in the> spring 
 of 1862 that I found matters beginning to settle 
 down to a degree that threatened monotony ; and 
 Avith the termination of the winter gaieties at Xaples 
 and the close of the San Carlo, I seriously betliought 
 me of accepting the offer of a naval friend who was 
 about to engage in blockade-running, and off"ered to 
 land me in the Confederate States, when a recrudes-
 
 120 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 cence of activity on the part of the brigand hands 
 in Calabria induced me to turn my attention in that 
 direction. The first question I had to consider was, 
 ■whether I should enjoy myself most by joining the 
 brigands, or the troops Avhich were engaged in sup- 
 pressing them. As the former aspired to a political 
 character, and called themselves patriotic bands fight- 
 ing for their Church, their country, and their Iving — 
 the refugee monarch of ilajiles — one could espouse 
 their cause without exactly laying one's self open to 
 the charge of being a bandit ; but it was notorious 
 in point of fact that the bands cared for neither the 
 Pope nor the exiled King nor their annexed country, 
 but committed the most abominable atrocities in the 
 names of all the three, for the simple purpose of fill- 
 ing their pockets. I foresaw not only extreme diffi- 
 culty in being accepted as a member of the fraternity, 
 more especially as I had hitherto been identified with 
 the Garibaldians ; but also the probalnlity of finding 
 myself compromised by acts from Avhich my conscience 
 Avould revolt, and for which my life would in all like- 
 lihood pay the forfeit. On the other hand, I could 
 think of no friend among the officers of the Bersag- 
 lieri and cavalry regiments, then engaged in brigand- 
 hunting in the Capitanata and Easilicata, to Avhom I 
 could apply for an invitation to join them. 
 
 Under these circumstances, I determined to trust 
 to the chapter of accidents ; and armed with a knap- 
 sack, a sketch-book, and an air-gun, took my seat one
 
 THE BRIGANDS BRIDE. 121 
 
 morning in the Foggia diligence, with the vagne idea 
 of getting as near the scene of operations as possible, 
 and seeing what would turn up. The air-gun was not 
 so much a weapon of offence or defence as a means of 
 introduction to the inhabitants. It had the innocent 
 appearance of rather a thick Avalking-cane, with a 
 little brass trigger projecting ; and in the afternoon I 
 Avould join the group sitting in front of the chemist's, 
 which, for some reason or other, is generally a sort of 
 open-air club in a small IS'eapolitan town, or stroll into 
 the single modest cafe of which it might i^ossibly boast, 
 and toy abstractedly with the trigger. This, together 
 with my personal appearance — for do what I would, 
 I could never make myself look like a x^eapolitan — 
 would be certain to attract attention, and some one 
 bolder than the rest would make himself the spokes- 
 man, and politely ask me whether the cane in my 
 hand was an umbrella or a fishing-rod ; on which I 
 would amiably reply that it was a gun, and that I 
 should have much pleasure in exhibiting my skill and 
 the method of its operation to the assembled com- 
 pany. Then the whole party would follow me to an 
 open space, and I would call for a pack of cards, and 
 possibly — for I was a good shot in those days — pink 
 the ace of hearts at fifteen paces. At any rate my 
 performances usually called forth plaudits, and this 
 involved a further interchange of compliments and 
 explanations, and the production of my sketch-book, 
 Avhich soon procured me the acquaintance of some
 
 122 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 ladies, and an invitation as an English artist to the 
 house of some respectable citizen. 
 
 So it happened that, getting out of the diligence 
 before it reached Foggia, I struck south, and Avan- 
 dered for some days from one little town to another, 
 being always hospitably entertained, whether there 
 happened to be an alhevf/o or not, at private houses, 
 seeing in this way more of the manners and customs 
 of the inhabitants than Avould have been otherwise 
 possible, gaining much information as to the haunts 
 of the brigands, the whereabouts of the troops, and 
 hearing much local gossip generally. The ignorance 
 of the most respectable classes at tliis period was 
 astounding ; it has doubtless all changed since. I 
 have been at a toAvn of 2000 inhabitants, not one of 
 Avhom took in a newspaper : the whole population, 
 therefore, was in as profound ignorance of what was 
 transpiring in the rest of the world as if they had 
 been in Novaia Zemlia. I have stayed with a mayor 
 who did not know that England was an island ; I 
 have been the guest of a citizen who had never heard 
 of Scotland, and to Avhom, therefore, my nationality 
 was an enigma : but I never met any one — I mean 
 of this same class — who had not heard of Palmerston. 
 He was a mysterious personage, execrated by the 
 "blacks" and adored by the "reds." And I shone 
 Avitli a reflected lustre as the citizen of a country of 
 which he was the Prime Minister, As a conse- 
 quence, we had political discussions, Avhich were pro-
 
 THE brigand's BRIDE. 123 
 
 tractecl far into the night, for tlie principal meal of 
 the twenty-four hours was a 10 o'clock p.m. supper, 
 at which, after the inevitable macaroni, were many 
 unwholesome dishes, such as salads made of thistles, 
 cows' udders, and other delicacies, which deprived 
 one of all desire for sleep. I^otwithstanding which, 
 Ave rose early, my hostess and the ladies of the estab- 
 lishment appearing in the early part of the day in 
 the most extreme deshabille. Indeed, on one occa- 
 sion when I was first introduced into the family of a 
 respectable citizen, and shown into my bedroom, I 
 mistook one of two females who were making the 
 bed for the servant, and was surprised to see her 
 hand a little douceur I gave her as an earnest of 
 attention on her part, to the other with a smile. 
 She soon afterwards went to bed : we all did, from 
 11 A.M. till about 3 p.m., at which hour I was horrified 
 to meet her arrayed in silks and satins, and to find 
 that she was the wife of my host. She kindly took 
 me a drive with her in a carriage and pair, and with 
 a coachman in livery. 
 
 It was by this simple means, and by thus imposing 
 myself upon the hospitality of these unsophisticated 
 people, that I worked my way by sIoav degrees, chiefly 
 on foot, into the part of the country I desired to 
 visit ; and I trust that I in a measure repaid them 
 for it l)y the stores of information which I imparted 
 to them, and of which they stood much in need, and 
 by little sketches of their homes and the surrounding
 
 124 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 scenery, with whicli I presented them. I was, in- 
 deed, dependent in some measure for liospitality of 
 this description, as I had taken no money with me, 
 partly because, to tell the trutli, I had scarcely got 
 any, and partly because I was afraid of being robbed 
 by brigands of the little I had. I therefore eschewed 
 the character of a milordo Inglese ; but I never suc- 
 ceeded in dispelling all suspicion that I might not be 
 a nephcAV of the Queen, or at least a very near rela- 
 tive of " Palmerston " in disguise. It was so natural, 
 seeing what a deej) interest both her Majesty and the 
 Prime Minister took in Italy, that they should send 
 some one incognito whom they could trust to tell 
 them all about it. 
 
 Meantime, I was not surprised, when I came to 
 know the disposition of the inhabitants, at the suc- 
 cess of brigandage. It has never been my fortune 
 before or since to live among such a timid popula- 
 tion. One day at a large town a leading landed 
 proprietor received notice that if he did not pay a 
 certain sum in black-mail, — I forget at this distance 
 of time the exact amount, — his farm or masseria 
 would be robbed. This farm, Avhich was in fact a 
 handsome country-house, Avas distant about ten miles 
 from the town. He therefore made an appeal to the 
 citizens that they should arm themselves, and help 
 him to defend his property, as he had determined not 
 to pay, and had taken steps to be informed as to the 
 exact date when the attack Avas to be made in de-
 
 THE BEIGAND's BPJDE. 125 
 
 fault of payment. ]\Iore than 300 citizens enrolled 
 themselves as willing to turn out in arms. On the 
 day preceding the attack by the brigands, a rendez- 
 vous was given to these 300 on the great square for 
 five in the morning, and thither I accordingly re- 
 paired, unable, however, to induce my host to accom- 
 pany me, although he had signed as a volunteer. On 
 reaching the rendezvous, I found the landed proprietor 
 and a friend who was living with him, and about ten 
 minutes afterwards two other volunteers strolled up. 
 Five was all Ave could muster out of 300. It was 
 manifestly i;seless to attempt anything with so small 
 a force, and no arguments could induce any of the 
 others to turn out ; so the iiidiappy gentleman had 
 the satisfaction of knowing that the brigands had 
 punctually pillaged his j)Iace, carrying oif all his live 
 stock on the very day and at the very hour they said 
 they would. As for the inhabitants venturing any 
 distance from town, except under military escort, such 
 a thing Avas unknown, and all communication with 
 I^aples was for some time virtually intercepted. I was 
 regarded as a sort of monomaniac of recklessness, 
 because I ventured on a solitary Avalk of a mile or 
 two in search of a sketch, — an act of no great auda- 
 city on my part, for I had Avalked through various 
 parts of the country without seeing a brigand, and 
 found it difficult to realise that there was any actual 
 danger in strolling a mile from a moderately large 
 toAvn,
 
 126 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 Emboldened by impunity, I was tempted one day 
 to follow up a most romantic glen in search of a 
 sketch, when I came upon a remarkably handsome 
 peasant girl, driving a donkey before her loaded with 
 Avood. My sudden apj)earance on the narrow path 
 made the animal shy against a projecting piece of 
 rock, off which he rebounded to the edge of the path, 
 which giving way, precipitated liim and liis load 
 down the ravine. He was brought up unhurt agauist 
 a bush some twenty feet below, the fagots of wood 
 being scattered in his descent in all directions. For 
 a moment the girl's large fierce eyes flashed upon me 
 with anger ; but the impetuosity with which I went 
 headlong after the donkey, with a view of repairing 
 my error, and the absurd attempts I made to reverse 
 the position of his feet, which were in the air, con- 
 verted her indignation into a hearty fit of laughter, 
 as, seeing that the animal was apparently uninjured, 
 she scrambled down to my assistance. By our united 
 efforts we at last succeeded in hoisting the donkey 
 up to the path, and then 1 collected the wood and 
 helped her to load it again — an operation which in- 
 volved a frequent meeting of hands, and of the eyes, 
 which had now lost the ferocity that had startled 
 me at first, and seemed getting more soft and beam- 
 ing every time 1 glanced at them, till at last, produc- 
 ing my sketch-book, I ventured to remark, " Ah, 
 signorina, what a picture you would make ! !N^ow 
 that the ass is loaded, let me draw you Itefore we
 
 THE beigand's beide. 127 
 
 part, that I may carry away the recollection of the 
 loveliest woman I have seen." 
 
 " First draw the doiikey," she replied, " that I may 
 carry away a recollection of the galantuomo who first 
 upset him over the bank, and then helped me to load 
 him." 
 
 Smiling at this ambiguous compliment, I gave her 
 the sketch she desired, and was about to claim my 
 reward, when she abruptly remarked — 
 
 " There is not time now ; it is getting late, and I 
 must not linger, as I have still an hour to go before 
 reaching home. How is it that you are not afraid to 
 be wandering in this solitary glen by yourself 1 Do 
 you not know the risks 1 " 
 
 " I have heard of them, but I do not believe in 
 them," I said ; " besides, I should be poor plunder 
 for robbers." 
 
 " But you have friends, who would pay to ransom 
 you, I suppose, if you were captured 1 " 
 
 " My life is not worth a hundred scudi to any of 
 them," I replied, laughing ; " but I am willing to 
 forego the pleasure of drawing you now, hellissima, if 
 you will tell me where you live, and let me come and 
 paint you there at my leisure." 
 
 " You're a brave one," she said, with a little laugh ; 
 "there is not another man in all Ascoli who would 
 dare to pay me a visit without an escort of twenty 
 soldiers. Lut I am too grateful for your amiability 
 to let you run such a risk, Addio, Signor Inglese.
 
 128 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 There are many reasons why I can't let you draw my 
 picture, but I am not luigrateful, see I " — and she 
 offered me her cheek, on which I instantly imprinted 
 a chaste and fraternal salute. 
 
 " Don't think that you've seen the last of me, 
 carissima," I called out, as she turned away. '' I 
 shall Hve on the memory of that kiss till I have an 
 opportunity of repeating it." 
 
 And as I watched her retreating figure with an 
 artist's eye, I was struck with its grace and supple- 
 ness, combined, as I had observed while she was 
 helping me to load the donkey, with an unusual 
 degree of muscular strength for a woman. 
 
 The spot at which this episode had taken place 
 was so romantic, that I determined to make a sketch 
 of it, and the shades of evening were closing in so 
 fast that they warned me to hurry if I would reach 
 the town before dark. I had just finished it, and 
 was stooping to pick up my air-gun, Avhen I heard a 
 sudden rush, and before I had time to look up, I 
 was thrown violently forward on my face, and found 
 myself struggling in the embrace of a j)Owerful grasp, 
 from which I had nearly succeeded in freeing myself, 
 when the arms which were clasping me were rein- 
 forced by several more pairs, and I felt a rope being 
 passed round my body. 
 
 " All riii'ht, signors ! " I exclaimed. '• I vield to 
 superior numbers. You need not pull so hard ; let 
 me get up, and I promise to go with you quietly."
 
 THE BPJGAXDS BKEDE. 129 
 
 And by this time I had turned sufficiently on my 
 hack to see that four men were engaged in tying 
 me up. 
 
 '• Tie his elbows together, and let him get up,'"' 
 said one ; " he is not armed. Here, Giuseppe, carry 
 his stick and paint-box, while I feel his pockets. 
 Corpo di Bciccho ! twelve hojoccTd," he exclaimed, 
 producing those copper coins with an air of profound 
 disgust. " It is to be hoped he is worth more to his 
 friends. Xow, young man, trudge, and remember 
 that the first sign you make of attempting to run 
 away, means four bullets through you." 
 
 As I did not anticipate any real danger, and as a 
 prolonged detention was a matter of no consequence 
 to a man without an occupation, I stepped forward 
 with a light heart, rather pleased than otherwise with 
 anticipations of the brigand's cave, and turning over 
 in my mind whether or not I should propose to join 
 the band. 
 
 "We had walked an hour, and it had become dark, 
 when we turned off the road, up a narrow path that 
 led between rocky sides to a glade, at the extremity 
 of wliich, under an overhanging ledge, was a small 
 cottage, with what seemed to be a patch of garden in 
 front. 
 
 " IIo ! Anita I " called out the man who appeared 
 to be the leader of the band ; " open ! "We have 
 brought a friend to supper, who will require a night's 
 lodgings." 
 
 T.s. — L I
 
 130 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 An old woman with a light appeared, and over her 
 shoulder, to my delight, I saw the face I had asked 
 to be allowed to paint so shortly before. I was about 
 to recognise her with an exclamation, when I saw a 
 hurried motion of her finger to her lip, which looked 
 a natural gesture to the casual observer, but which I 
 construed into a sign of prudence. 
 
 " Where did you pick him up, Croppo 1 " she asked 
 carelessly. *' He ought to be Avorth something." 
 
 " Just twelve hajocchi" he answered with a sneer- 
 ing laugh. " Come, amico mio, you wUl have to give 
 us the names of some of your friends." 
 
 "I am tolerably intimate with his Holiness the 
 Pope, and I have a bowing acquaintance with the 
 King of Xaples, whom may God speedily restore to 
 his own," I replied in a light and airy fashion, which 
 seemed exceedingly to exasperate the man called 
 Croppo. 
 
 " Oh yes, we know all about that ; we never catch 
 a man who does not profess to be a New of the 
 deepest dye in order to conciliate our sympathies. 
 It is just as well that you should understand, my 
 friend, that all are fish who come into ovu' net. The 
 money of the Pope's friends is quite as good as the 
 money of Garibaldi's. You need not hope to put us 
 off with your Italian friends of any colour : what we 
 want is English gold — good solid English gold, and 
 plenty of it." 
 
 "Ah," said I, with a laugh, " if you did but knoAV,
 
 THE BKIGAND'S BRIDE. 131 
 
 my friend, how long I have wanted it too. If you 
 could only suggest an Englishman who would pay 
 you for my life, I would write to him immediately, 
 and we would go halves in the ransom. Hold ! " 
 I said, a bright idea suddenly striking me ; " sup- 
 pose I Avere to write to my Government — how would 
 that do 1 " 
 
 Croppo was evidently puzzled : my cheerful and 
 unembarrassed manner apparently perplexed him. 
 He had a suspicion that I was even capable of the 
 audacity of making a fool of him, and yet that pro- 
 position about the Government rather staggered him. 
 There might be something in it. 
 
 " Don't you think," he remarked grimly, " it would 
 add to the effect of your communication if you were 
 to enclose your own ears in your letter ? I can easily 
 supply them ; and if you are not a little more guarded 
 in your speech, you. may possibly have to add your 
 tongue." 
 
 " It would not have the slightest effect," I replied, 
 paying no heed to his threat ; " you don't know 
 Palmerston as I do. If you wish to get anything 
 out of him you must be excessively civil What 
 does he care about my ears ? " And I laughed with 
 such scornful contempt that Croppo this time felt 
 that he had made a fool of himself ; and I observed 
 the lovely girl behind, while the corners of her mouth 
 twitched with suppressed laughter, make a sign of 
 caution.
 
 132 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 "Per Dio .f'' he exclaimed, jumping up with fury, 
 " understand. Signer Inglese, that Croppo is not to 
 be trifled with. I have a summary way of treating 
 disresjDect," and he drew a long and exceedingly 
 sharp-looking two-edged knife. 
 
 " So you would kill the goose " — and I certainly am 
 a goose, I reflected — " that may lay a golden egg." 
 But my allusion was lost upon him, and I saw my 
 charmer touch her forehead significantly, as though 
 to imply to Croppo that I Avas weak in the upper 
 storey. 
 
 " An imbecile without friends and twelve hajoccld 
 in his pocket," he muttered savagely. " Perhaps the 
 night Avithout food Avill restore his senses. " Come, 
 fool ! " and he roughly pushed me into a dark little 
 chamber adjoining. " Here, Valeria, hold the light." 
 
 So Valeria was the name of the heroine of the 
 donkey episode. As she held a small oil-lamp aloft, 
 I perceived that the room in which I was to spend 
 the night had more the appearance of a cellar than a 
 cliamber ; it had been excavated on two sides from 
 the bank, on the third there Avas a small hole about 
 six inches square, apparently communicating Avith 
 anotlier room, and on the fourth Avas the door by 
 Avhich I had entered, and AA'hich opened into the 
 kitchen and general living-room of the inhabitants. 
 There Avas a heap of onions running to seed, the 
 fagots of fireAvood Avliicli Valeria liad brought that 
 afternoon, and an old cask or two.
 
 THE BKIGAND's BRIDE. 133 
 
 " Won't you give liim some kind of a bed 1 " she 
 asked Croppo. 
 
 " Bah ! he can sleep on the onions," responded 
 that worthy. " If he had been more civil and intel- 
 ligent he should have had something to eat. You 
 three," he -went on, turning to the other men, " sleep 
 in the kitchen, and watch that the prisoner does not 
 escape. The door has a strong bolt besides. Come, 
 Valeria." 
 
 And the pair disappeared, leaving me in a dense 
 gloom, strongly pervaded by an odour of fungus and 
 decaying onions. Groping into one of the casks, I 
 found some straw, and spreading it on a piece of 
 plank, I prepared to pass the night sitting with my 
 back to the driest piece of wall I could find, which 
 happened to be immediately under the air-hole, a 
 fortunate circumstance, as the closeness Avas often 
 stifling. I had probably been dozing for some time 
 in a sitting position, Avhen I felt something tickle the 
 top of my head. The idea that it might be a large 
 spider caused me to start, Avhen stretching up my 
 hand, it came in contact with what seemed to be a 
 rag, which I had not observed. Getting carefully 
 up, I perceived a faint light gleaming through the 
 aperture, and then saw that a hand was protruded 
 through it, apparently waving the rag. As I felt 
 instinctively that the hand Avas Valeria's, I seized 
 the finger-tips, AAdiich was all I could get hold of, 
 and pressed them to my lips. They Avere quickly
 
 134 TALES FROM " BLACK,WOOD." 
 
 dra'vvn away, and then the whisper reached my 
 ears — 
 
 " Are you hungry 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then eat this," and she passed me a tin pannikin 
 full of cold macaroni, which would just go through 
 the opening. 
 
 " Dear Valeria," I said, with my mouth full, " how 
 good and tliouglitful you are ! " 
 
 " Hush ! he'll hear." 
 
 " Who 1 " 
 
 " Croppo." 
 
 " Where is he ? *' 
 
 " Asleep in the bed just behind me." 
 
 " How do you come to be in his bedroom 1 " 
 
 " Because I'm his wife." 
 
 " Oh ! " A long pause, during which I collapsed 
 upon my straw seat, and swallowed macaroni thought- 
 fully. As the result of my meditations — " Valeria, 
 carissima." 
 
 " Hush ! Yes." 
 
 " Can't you get me out of this infernal den 1 " 
 
 " Perhaps, if tliey all three sleep in the kitchen ; 
 at present one is awake. Watch for my signal, and 
 if they all three sleep, I will manage to slip the bolt. 
 Then you must give me time to get back into bed, 
 and when you hear me snore you may make the 
 attempt. They are all three sleeping on the floor, so 
 be very careful where you tread ; I will also leave the
 
 THE brigand's BKIDE, 135 
 
 front door a little open, so that you can slip through 
 without noise." 
 
 " Dearest Valeria ! " 
 
 " Hush ! Yes." 
 
 "Hand me that cane — it is my fishing-rod, you 
 know — tlirough this hole ; you can leave the sketch- 
 book and paint-box under the tree that the donkey 
 fell against, — I will call for them some day soon. 
 And, Valeria, don't you think we could make our 
 lips meet through this beastly hole 1 " 
 
 " Impossible. There's my hand ; heavens ! Croppo 
 would murder me if he knew. Now keep quiet till I 
 give the signal. Oh, do let go my hand ! " 
 
 " Eemember, Valeria, hellissima, carissima, what- 
 ever happens, that I love you." 
 
 But I don't think she heard this, and I went and 
 sat on the onions because I could see the hole better, 
 and the smell of them kept me awake. 
 
 It Avas at least two hours after this that the 
 faint light appeared at the hole in the wall, and 
 a hand was pushed through. I rushed at the 
 finger-tips. 
 
 " Here's your fishing-rod," she said when I had 
 released them, and she had passed me my air-gun. 
 "I^Tow be very careful how you tread. There is 
 one asleep across the door, but you can open it about 
 two feet. Then step over him ; then make for a 
 gleam of moonhght that comes through the crack of 
 the front door, open it very gently and slip out.
 
 136 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 Addlo, caro Inglese ; mind you wait till you hear 
 me snoring." 
 
 Then she lingered, and I heard a sigh. 
 
 "What is it, sweet Valeria?" and I covered her 
 hand with kisses. 
 
 " I wish Croppo had blue eyes like you." 
 
 This Avas murmured so softly that I may have been 
 mistaken, but I'm nearly sure that was what she said; 
 then she drew softly away, and two minutes after- 
 wards I heard her snoring. As the first sound issued 
 from her lovely nostrils, I stealthily approached the 
 door, gently pushed it open ; stealthily stepped over 
 a space which I trusted cleared the recumbent figure 
 that I could not see ; cleared him ; stole gently on for 
 the streak of moonlight ; trod squarely on something 
 that seemed like an outstretched hand, for it gave 
 under my pressure and produced a yell ; felt that I 
 must now rush for my life ; dashed the door open, 
 and down the path with four yelling rufiians at my 
 heels. I was a pretty good runner, but the moon 
 was behind a cloud, and the way was rocky, — more- 
 over, there must have been a short cut I did not know, 
 for one of my pursuers gained upon me with imac- 
 eountable rapidity — he appeared suddenly within ten 
 yards of my heels. The others were at least a hun- 
 dred yards behind. I had nothing for it but to turn 
 round, let him almost run against the muzzle of my 
 air-gun, pull the trigger, and see him fall in his tracks. 
 It was the work of a second, but it checked my pur-
 
 THE brigand's BRIDE. 137 
 
 suers. They had heard no noise, but they found 
 something that they did not bargain for, and lingered 
 a moment, then tliey took up the chase with redoubled 
 fury. But I had too good a start ; and where the 
 path joined the main road, instead of turning down 
 towards the town, as they expected I would, I dodged 
 round in the opposite direction, the uncertain light 
 this time favouring me, and I heard their footsteps 
 and their curses dying away on the wrong track. 
 Nevertheless I ran on at full speed, and it was not 
 till the day was dawning that I began to feel safe and 
 relax my efforts. The sun had been up an hour when 
 I reached a small town, and the little locanda was 
 just opening for the day when I entered it, thankful 
 for a hot cup of coffee, and a dirty little room, with a 
 dirtier bed, where I could sleep off the fatigue and 
 excitement of the night. I was strolling down almost 
 the only street in the afternoon Avhen I met a couple 
 of carabineers riding into it, and shortly after encoun- 
 tered the whole troop, to my great delight, in com- 
 mand of an intimate friend whom I had left a month 
 before in JN'aples. 
 
 " Ah, caro mio ! " he exclaimed, when he saw me, 
 " well met. "\\Tiat on earth are you doing here % — 
 looking for those brigands you were so anxious to 
 find when you left IS^aples"? Considering that you 
 are in the heart of their country, you should not have 
 much difficulty in gratifying your curiosity." 
 
 " I have had an adventure or two," I replied care-
 
 138 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 lessly. " Indeed that is partly the reason you find 
 me here. I was just thinking how I could get safely 
 back to Ascoli, when your welcome escort appeared ; 
 for I suppose you are going there, and will let me 
 take advantage of it." 
 
 " Only too delighted ; and you can tell me your 
 adventures. Let us dine together to-night, and I 
 will find you a horse to ride on with us in the 
 morning." 
 
 I am afraid my account of the episode with which 
 I have acquainted the reader was not strictly accurate 
 in all its details, as I did not wish to bring down my 
 military friends on poor Valeria, so I skipped all 
 allusion to her and my detention in her home ; merely 
 saying that I had had a scuffle with brigands, and 
 had been fortunate enough to escape under cover of 
 the night. As we passed it next morning I recog- 
 nised the path which led up to Valeria's cottage, and 
 shortly after observed that young woman herself 
 coming up the glen. 
 
 " Holloa ! " I said, with great presence of mind as 
 she drew near, " my lovely model, I declare ! Just 
 you ride on, old fellow, Avhile I stop and ask her 
 when she can come and sit to me again." 
 
 " You artists are sad rogues, — what chances your 
 profession must give you ! " remarked my companion, 
 as he cast an admiring glance on Valeria, and rode 
 discreetly on. 
 
 " There is nothing to be afraid of, lovely Valeria,"
 
 THE BEIGAND'S BRIDE. 139 
 
 I said in a low tone, as I lingered behind ; " be sure 
 I will never betray either you or your rascally — hem ! 
 I mean your excellent Croppo. By the way, was that 
 man much hurt that I was obliged to trip up 1 " 
 
 " Hurt ! Santa Maria, he is dead, with a bullet 
 through his heart. Croppo says it must have been 
 magic ; for he had searched you, and he knew you 
 were not armed, and he was within a hundred 
 yards of you when poor Pippo fell, and he heard 
 no sound." 
 
 *' Croppo is not far wrong," I said, glad of the 
 opportunity thus offered of imposing on the ignorance 
 and credulity of the natives. " He seemed surprised 
 that he could not frighten me the other night. Tell 
 him he was much more in my power than I was in 
 his, dear Valeria," I added, looking tenderly into her 
 eyes. "I didn't want to alarm you, that was the 
 reason I let him off so easily ; but I may not be so 
 merciful next time. Now, sweetest, that kiss you 
 owe me, and which the wall prevented your giving' 
 me the other night." She held up her face Avith the 
 innocence of a child, as I stooped from my saddle. 
 
 " I shall never see you again, Signor Inglese," she 
 said, with a sigh ; " for Croppo says it ^is not safe, 
 after what happened the night before last, to stay 
 another hour. Indeed he went off yesterday, leaving 
 me orders to follow to-day ; but I went first to put 
 your sketch-book under the bush where the donkey 
 feU, and where you will find it."
 
 140 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 It took us another minute or two to part after 
 this ; and when I had ridden away I turned to 
 look back, and there was A'aleria gazing after me. 
 "Positively," I reflected, "I am over head and ears 
 in love with the girl, and I believe she is with me. 
 I ought to have nipped my feelings in the bud when 
 she tokl me she was his wife ; but then he is a 
 brigand, who threatened both my ears and my 
 tongue, to say nothing of my life. To what extent 
 is the domestic happiness of such a ruflian to be 
 respected 1 " and I went on splitting the moral straws 
 suggested by this train of thought, until I had re- 
 covered my sketch-book and overtaken my escort, 
 with Avhom I rode triumphantly back into Ascoli, 
 where my absence had been the cause of much 
 anxiety, and my fate was even then being eagerly 
 discussed. jNIy friends with whom I usually sat 
 round the chemist's door, were much exercised by 
 the reserve which I manifested in reply to the fire 
 of cross-examination to which I was subjected for 
 the next few days ; and English eccentricity, which 
 was proverbial even in this secluded town, received 
 a fresh illustration in the light and airy manner with 
 which I tr^ted a capture and escape from brigands, 
 which I regarded with such indifterence that I could 
 not be induced even to condescend to details. " It 
 was a mere scuffle ; there were only four ; and, being 
 an Englishman, I polished them all off with the 
 ' box,' " — and I closed my fist, and struck a scientific
 
 THE brigand's BRIDE. 141 
 
 attitude of self-defence, branching off into a learned 
 disquisition on the pugilistic art, which filled my 
 hearers with respect and amazement. From this 
 time forward the sentiment with which I regarded 
 my air-gun underwent a change. ^^^hen a friend 
 had made me a present of it a year before, I regarded 
 it in the light of a toy, and rather resented the gift 
 as too juvenile. I wonder he did not give me a kite 
 or a hoop, I mentally reflected. Then I had found it 
 useful among Italians, who are a trifling people, and 
 like playthings ; but now that it had saved my life, 
 and sent a bullet through a man's heart, I no longer 
 entertained the same feeling of contempt for it. !N"ot 
 again would I make light of it, — this potent engine 
 of destruction which had procured me the character 
 of being a magician. I would hide it from human 
 gaze, and cherish it as a sort of fetish. So I bought 
 a walking-stick and an umbrella, and strapped it up 
 Avith them, wrapped in my plaid ; and when, shortly 
 after, an unexpected remittance from an aunt sup- 
 plied me with money enough to buy a horse from 
 one of the officers of my friend's regiment, which 
 soon after arrived, I accepted their invitation to 
 accompany them on their brigand -hunting expedi- 
 tions, not one of them knew that I had such a 
 Aveapon as an air-gun in my possession. 
 
 Our modus operandi on these occasions was as 
 follows : On receiving information from some pro- 
 prietor that the brigands were threatening his pro-
 
 142 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 perty, — it was impossible to get intelligence from 
 the peasantry, for they Avere all in league with the 
 brigands ; indeed they all took a holiday from regular 
 work, and joined a band for a few weeks from time 
 to time, — - we proceeded, with a force sufficiently 
 strong to cope with the supposed strength of the 
 band, to the farm in question. The bands were all 
 mounted, and averaged from 200 to 400 men each. 
 It was calculated that upwards of 2000 men were 
 thus engaged in harrying the country, and this en- 
 abled the Neri to talk of the king's forces engaged 
 in legitimate warfare agauist those of Victor Em- 
 manuel. Eiding over the A'^ast plains of the Capi- 
 tanata, we would discern against the sky-outline the 
 figure of a solitary horseman. This we knew to be 
 a picket. Then there was no time to be lost, and 
 away we would go for him helter-skelter across the 
 plain ; he would instantly gallop in on the main 
 body, probably occupying a mas.seria. If they 
 thought they were strong enough, they would show 
 fight. If not, they Avould take to their heels in the 
 direction of the mountains, with us in full cry after 
 them. If they were hardly pressed they would 
 scatter, and we were obliged to do the same, and 
 the result would be that the swiftest horsemen might 
 possibly effect a few captures. It was an exciting 
 species of warfare, partaking a good deal more of the 
 character of a hunting-field than of cavalry skirmish- 
 ing. Sometimes, where the ground was hilly, we
 
 THE BKIGAND'S BRIDE. 143 
 
 had Bersaglieri with us ; and as the brigands took to 
 the mountains, the warfare assumed a different char- 
 acter. Sometimes, in default of these active little 
 troops, we took local volunteers, whom we found 
 a very poor substitute. On more than one occasion 
 when Ave came upon the brigands in a farm, they 
 thought themselves sufficiently strong to hold it 
 against us, and once the cowardice of the volunteers 
 was amusingly illustrated. The band was estimated 
 at about 200, and we had 100 volunteers and a 
 detachment of 50 cavaby. On coming under the 
 fire of the brigands, the cavalry captain, who was in 
 command, ordered the volimteers to charge, intending 
 when they had dislodged the enemy to ride him down 
 on the open ; but the volunteer officer did not repeat 
 the word, and stood stock-still, his men all imitating 
 his example. 
 
 " Charge ! I say," shouted the cavalry captain ; 
 " why don't you charge 1 1 believe you're afraid ! " 
 
 " JE vero," said the captain of volunteers, shrugging 
 his shoulders. 
 
 " Here, take my horse — you're only fit to be a 
 groom ; and you, men, dismount and let these 
 cowards hold your horses, while you follow me,"- — • 
 and jumping from his horse, the gallant fellow, 
 followed by his men, charged the building, from 
 which a hot fire was playing upon them, sword in 
 hand. In less than a quarter of an hour the brigands 
 were scampering, some on foot and some on horse-
 
 144 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 back, out of tlie farm-buildings, followed by a few 
 stray and harmless shots from such of the volunteers 
 as had their hands free. AVe lost three men killed 
 and five wounded in this little skirmish, and killed 
 six of the brigands, besides making a dozen prisoners. 
 "When I say we, I mean my companions ; for having 
 no Aveapon, I had discreetly remained with the volun- 
 teers. The scene of this gallant exploit was on the 
 classic battle-field of Canniie. This captain, who was 
 not the friend I had joined the day after my brigand 
 adventure, was a most plucky and dashing cavalry 
 officer, and was Avell seconded by his men, who were 
 all Piedmontese, and of very different temperament 
 from the Xeapolitans. On one occasion a band of 
 250 brigands waited for us on the top of a small hill, 
 never dreaming that we should charge up it with the 
 odds five to one against us — but we did ; and after 
 firing a volley at us, which emptied a couple of 
 saddles, they broke and fled Avhen we were about 
 twenty yards from them. Then began one of the 
 most exciting scurries across country it was ever my 
 fortune to be engaged in. The brigands scattered — 
 so did we ; and I found myself Avith two troopers in 
 chase of a pair of bandits, one of Avhoni seemed to 
 be the chief of the band. A small stream Avound 
 through the plain, Avhich Ave dashed across. Just 
 beyond Avas a tributary ditch, AA'hich Avould have 
 been considered a fair jump in the hunting-field : 
 both brigands took it in splendid style. The hind-
 
 THE brigand's BRIDE. 145 
 
 most was not ten yards ahead of the leading trooper, 
 who came a cropper, on which the brigand reined up, 
 fired a pistol-shot into the prostrate horse and man, 
 and was off : but tlie delay cost laim dear. The other 
 trooper, who was a little ahead of me, got safely over. 
 I followed suit. In another moment he had fired his 
 carbine into the brigand's horse, and down they both 
 came by the run. We instantly reined up, for I saw 
 there was no chance of overtaking the remaining 
 brigand, and the trooper was in the act of cutting 
 down the man as he struggled to his feet, when 
 to my horror I recognised the lovely features of — 
 Valeria. 
 
 "Stay, man!" I shouted, throwing myself from 
 my horse ; " it's a woman ! touch her if you dare ! " 
 and then seeing the man's eye gleam with indigna- 
 tion, I added, "Brave soldiers, such as you have 
 proved yourself to be, do not kill women ; though 
 your traducers say you do, do not give them cause to 
 speak truth. I Avill be responsible for tliis woman's 
 safety. Here, to make it sure, you had better strap 
 us together." I piqued myself exceedingly on this 
 happy inspiration, whereby I secured an arm-in-arm 
 walk, of a peculiar kind it is true, with Valeria, and 
 indeed my readiness to sacrifice myself seemed rather 
 to astonish the soldier, who hesitated. However, his 
 comrade, whose horse had been shot in the ditch, now 
 came up, and seconded my proposal, as I offered him 
 a mount on mine. 
 
 T.s. — I. K.
 
 146 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " How on earth am I to let you escape, dear Va- 
 leria ] " I whispered, giving her a sort of affectionate 
 nudge : the position of our arms prevented my squeez- 
 ing hers, as I could have wished, and the two troopers 
 kept behind us, watching us, I thought, suspiciously. 
 "It is quite impossible now — don't attempt it," 
 she answered ; " perhaps there may be an opportunity 
 later." 
 
 " Was that Croppo who got away ] " I asked. 
 " Yes. He could not get his cowardly men to stand 
 on that hiU." 
 
 " AVhat a bother those men are behind, dearest ! 
 Let me pretend to scratch my nose with this hand 
 that is tied to yours, which I can thus bring to my 
 Hps." 
 
 I accomplished this manoeuvre rather neatly, but 
 parties now came straggling in from other directions, 
 and I was obliged to give up whispering and become 
 circumspect. They aU seemed rather astonished at 
 our group, and the captain laughed heartily as he 
 rode up and called out, " Who have you got tied to 
 you there, caro mio ? " 
 
 " Croppo's wife. I had her tied to me for fear she 
 should escape ; besides, she is not bad-looking." 
 
 " What a prize ! " he exclaimed. " We have made 
 a tolerable haul this time, — twenty prisoners in all — 
 among them the priest of the band. Our colonel has 
 just arrived, so I am in luck — he will be delighted. 
 See, the prisoners are being brought up to him now :
 
 THE brigand's BRIDE. 147 
 
 but you had better remount and present yours in a 
 less singular fashion." 
 
 "When we reached the colonel we found him ex- 
 amining the priest. His breviary contained various 
 interesting notes, written on some of the fly-leaves. 
 
 For instance : — 
 
 "Administered extreme unction to A , shot by 
 
 Croppo's orders : my share ten scudi. 
 
 " Ditto, ditto, to E , hung by Croppo's order ; 
 
 my share two scudi. 
 
 " Ditto, ditto, to S , roasted by Croppo's order, 
 
 to make him name an agent to bring his ransom : 
 overdone by mistake, and died — so got nothing. 
 
 " Ditto, ditto, to P , executed by the knife by 
 
 Croppo's order, for disobedience. 
 
 " M and F , and D , three new mem- 
 bers, joined to-day : confessed them, and received the 
 usual fees." 
 
 He was a dark, beetle-browed-looking ruffian, this 
 holy man ; and the colonel, when he had finished ex- 
 amining his book of prayer and crime, tossed it to 
 me, saying, — " There ! that will show your friends in 
 England the kind of pohticians we make war against. 
 Ha ! what have we here 1 This is more serious." 
 And he unfolded a piece of paper which had been 
 concealed in the breast of the priest. " This contains 
 a little valuable information," he added, with a grim 
 smile. " ISTobody like priests and women for carry- 
 ing about political secrets, so you may have made a
 
 148 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 valuable capture," and he turned to where I stood 
 with Valeria ; "let her be carefully searched." 
 
 Now the colonel was a very pompous man, and 
 the document he had just discovered on the priest 
 added to his sense of self-importance. "When, there- 
 fore, a large, carefuUy folded paper was produced 
 from the neighbourhood of Valeria's lovely bosom, 
 his eyes sparkled with anticipation. " Ho, ho ! " he 
 exclaimed, as he clutched it eagerly, " the plot is 
 thickening ! " and he spread out triumphantly, before 
 he had himself seen what it was, the exquisitely 
 drawn portrait of a donkey. There was a suppressed 
 titter, which exploded into a shout when the by- 
 standers looked into the colonel's indignant face. I 
 only was affected differently, as my gaze fell upon 
 this touching evidence of dear Valeria's love for me, 
 and I glanced at her tenderly. "This has a deeper 
 significance than you think for," said the colonel, 
 looking round angrily. " Croppo's wife does not 
 carefully secrete a drawing like that on her person 
 for nothing. See, it is done by no common artist. 
 It means something, and must be preserved." 
 
 " It may have a Biblical reference to the state of 
 Italy. You remember Issachar was likened to an 
 ass between two burdens. In that case it probably 
 emanated from Rome," I remarked ; but nobody 
 seemed to see the point of the allusion, and the 
 observation feU fiat. 
 
 That night I dined with the colonel, and after
 
 THE BKIGAND'S BEIDE. 149 
 
 dinner I persuaded him to let me visit Valeria in 
 prison, as I wished to take the portrait of the wife of 
 the celebrated brigand chief. I thanked my stars 
 that my friend who had seen her when we met in 
 the glen was away on duty with his detachment, and 
 could not testify to our former acquaintance. 
 
 My meeting with Valeria on this occasion was too 
 touching and full of tender passages to be of any 
 general interest. Valeria told me that she was still 
 a bride ; that she had only been married a few 
 months, and that she had been compelled to become 
 Croppo's wife against her choice, as the brigand's 
 will was too powerful to be resisted ; but that, 
 though he was jealous and attached to her, he was 
 stern and cruel, and so far from winning her love 
 since her marriage, he had rather estranged it by his 
 fits of passion and ferocity. As may be imagined, 
 the portrait, which was really very successful, took 
 some time in execution, the more especially as we 
 had to discuss the possibilities of Valeria's escape. 
 
 " We are going to be transferred to-morrow to the 
 prison at Foggia," she said. " If, Avhile we were 
 passing through the market-place, a distvu-bance of 
 some sort could be created, as it is market-day, and 
 all the country people know me, and are my friends, 
 a rescue might be attempted. I know how to 
 arrange for that, only they must see some chance of 
 success." 
 
 A bright thought suddenly struck me ; it was
 
 150 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 suggested by a trick I had played shortly after my 
 arrival in Italy. 
 
 " You know I am something of a magician, Valeria ; 
 you have had proof of that. If I create a disturbance 
 by magic to-morrow, when you are passing through 
 the market-place, you won't stay to wonder what is the 
 cause of the confusion, but instantly take advantage of 
 it to escape." 
 
 "Trust me for that, caro mio." 
 
 " And if you escape, when shall we meet again ? " 
 
 " I am known too well now to risk another meeting. 
 I shall be in hiding with Croppo, where it will be 
 impossible for you to find me, nor while he lives 
 could I ever dare to think of leaving him ; but I shall 
 never forget you " — and she pressed my hands to her 
 lips — " though I shall no longer have the picture of 
 the donkey to remember you by." 
 
 " See, here's my photograph ; that will be better," 
 said I, feeling a little annoyed — foohshly, I admit. 
 Then we strained each other to our respective hearts, 
 and parted. Now it so happened that my room in 
 the locanda in which I was lodging overlooked the 
 market-place. Here at ten o'clock in the morning I 
 posted myself — for that was the hour, as I had been 
 careful to ascertain, when the prisoners were to start 
 for Foggia. I opened the window about three inches, 
 and fixed it there : I took out my gun, put eight balls 
 in it, and looked down upon the square. It was 
 crowded with the country people in their bright-
 
 THE BKIGAND's BRIDE. 151 
 
 coloured costumes, chaffering over their produce. I 
 looked above them to the tall campanile of the church 
 which filled one side of the square. I receded a step 
 and adjusted my gun on the ledge of the window 
 to my entire satisfaction. I then looked down, the 
 street in which the prison was situated, and which 
 debouched on the square, and awaited events. At 
 ten minutes past ten I saw the soldiers at the door 
 of the prison form np, and then I knew that the 
 twenty prisoners of whom they formed the escort 
 were starting ; but the moment they began to move, 
 I fired at the big beU in the campanile, which re- 
 sponded with a loud clang. All the people in the 
 square looked up. As the prisoners entered the 
 square, which they had to cross in its whole breadth, 
 I fired again and again. The bell banged twice, and 
 the people began to buzz about. Now, I thought, I 
 must let the old bell have it. By the time five more 
 balls had struck the bell with a resounding din, the 
 whole square was in commotion. A miracle was 
 evidently in progress, or the campanile was bewitched. 
 People began to run hither and thither ; all the sol- 
 diers forming the escort gaped open-mouthed at the 
 steeple as the clangour continued. As soon as the 
 last shot had been fired, I looked down into the 
 square and saw all this, and I saw that the prisoners 
 were attempting to escape, and in more than one 
 instance had succeeded, for the soldiers began to 
 scatter in pursuit, and the country people to form
 
 152 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 themselves into impeding crowds, as though by 
 accident, hut nowhere could I see Valeria. When 
 I was quite sure she had escaped, I Avent down and 
 joined the crowd. I saw three prisoners captured 
 and brought back ; and when I asked the officer in 
 command how many had escaped, he said three — 
 Croppo's wife, the priest, and another. 
 
 When I met my cavalry friends at dinner that 
 evening, it was amusing to hear them speculate 
 upon the remarkable occurrence which had, in fact, 
 upset the wits of the whole town. Priests and 
 vergers and sacristans had visited tlie campanile, 
 and one of them had brought away a flattened piece 
 of lead, Avhicli looked as if it might have been a 
 bullet; but the suggestion that eight bullets could 
 have hit the bell in succession without anybody 
 hearing a sound, was treated with ridicule. I 
 believe the bell was subsequently exorcised with 
 holy Avater. I was afraid to remain with the regi- 
 ment with my air-gun after this, lest some one should 
 discover it, and unravel the mystery ; besides, I felt 
 a sort of traitor to the brave friends who had so 
 generously offered me their hospitality, so I invented 
 urgent private affairs, which demanded my immediate 
 return to Naples, and on the morning of my departure 
 found myself embraced by aU the officers of the regi- 
 ment, from the colonel downwards, who, in the fer- 
 vour of their kisses, thrust sixteen waxed moustache- 
 points against my cheeks.
 
 THE BEIGAND'S BRIDE. 153 
 
 About eighteen months after this, I heard of the 
 capture and execution of Croppo, and I knew that 
 Valeria was free ; but I had unexpectedly inherited 
 a property, and was engaged to be married. I am 
 now a country gentleman with a large family. My 
 sanctum is stocked with various mementoes of my 
 youthful adventures, but none awakens in me such 
 thrilling memories as are excited by the breviary of 
 the brigand priest, and the portrait of the brigand's 
 bride.
 
 THE MISOGYNIST. 
 
 BY HENRY PROTHERO. 
 
 [MAGA. June 1882.] 
 
 LAST year I was taking a solitary walking tour in 
 out-of-the-way parts of Normandy, and towards 
 the end of the summer I found myself at a little 
 unfrequented village - town, composed of one dull 
 "Place" surrounded by white -shuttered houses, a 
 few little smelly streets, a fine Flamboyant church, 
 a " mairie," and a convent or two. It was an old- 
 world place, but not specially picturesque ; and as 
 the guide-book contemptuously dismissed it in a 
 couple of lines, I expected to be alone, so far as 
 the society of my countrymen Avent. 
 
 A morning walk with my knapsack from another 
 little town (also composed of a dull " Place," a Flam- 
 boyant church, &c., &c.), had brought me to this 
 place a little before noon on a blazing September 
 day. " And now," thought I, " for dejeuner; then 
 a quiet afternoon's sketching at the church or by the
 
 THE MISOGYNIST. 155 
 
 stream, and some letter-writing at night," — that was 
 my programme. 
 
 There was an unpretentious hotel — the " Singe 
 d'Or " — on one side of the square, with an awning 
 and little tables, and a landlady with a surpassing 
 white cap. " Could madame give me a room 1 " 
 But certainly she could. " And dejeuner ? " Im- 
 mediately — would monsieur enter 1 So monsieur 
 entered, and after due ablutions descended to the 
 salle-a-ma7igeT. 
 
 In a moment my expectations and hopes of iso- 
 lation from my countrymen vanished ; for there, 
 waiting for his breakfast, sat a large, heavy-looking, 
 respectable, middle-aged English gentleman, on whose 
 countenance solemnity, pomposity, dulness, and self- 
 satisfaction sat enthroned. There was no escape. 
 He recognised a compatriot, and for the rest of the 
 day I was a prey to him. 
 
 First he regaled me during our meal with slow 
 and measured complaints about his food, and he 
 would fain have made me the medium through 
 whom our good-humoured hostess was to have her 
 soul vexed and harassed ; but as I contrived to 
 frustrate him in this matter, he essayed to explain 
 himself, happily without one word being intelligible 
 to madame. 
 
 After breakfast he lay in wait for me, and caught 
 me going out ; and throughout that unhappy after- 
 noon his dissertations on the Church of Eome, while
 
 156 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 I was looking at the cliurcli (/, not ice ; for he looked 
 at nothing), and on the position of women when we 
 passed a convent, together with his glorification of 
 his own domestic arrangements, and of the high 
 moral and mental state to which he had brought his 
 wife and daughters (whom he was to rejoin next day, 
 poor things !) — all this, combined with the thought 
 that I should have more of it at dinner, drove me 
 nearly frantic. 
 
 So great was my dread of further infliction, that 
 the thin potage, with paving-stones of bread, was 
 already on the table, and madame had been up to 
 say that " Monsieur est servi," before I ventured to 
 face my dinner and my enemy. But hunger drove 
 me down at last, and in deep dejection I opened the 
 door of the salle-a-manger. 
 
 Pomposity was there ; but, oh joy ! he was not 
 alone. The slow pounding tones of his voice were 
 being addressed to other ears than mine. He had a 
 new victim ! 
 
 Sitting opposite to him was a little, plump, rosy- 
 faced, elderly man in an auburn wig. He had no 
 whiskers, moustache, beard, eyelashes, or eyebrows, 
 but above his little twinkling eyes were two reddish 
 marks where eyebrows ought to have been ; and 
 never did I see so much expression and humour in 
 any human countenance as I now saw flitting about in 
 those little twinkling eyes and red marks, and the odd 
 little wrinkles and dimples on the plump red cheeks.
 
 THE MISOGYNIST. 157 
 
 The old story was being dinned into his ears : all 
 throngh dinner, from the soup to the Gruyere, we 
 heard about the low state of morals in France, the 
 high position of the English matron, — especially, we 
 were to infer, of Mrs Pomposity, and her family, the 
 Miss Pomposities, — the horrors of conventual life, 
 and so on, until our convive, hitherto silent, but 
 making wonderful little faces, now lit his first 
 cigarette. 
 
 Then he said quite suddenly, " There is one thing 
 to be said for convents — they keep a lot of women 
 out of the way." 
 
 At this sally, uttered in a cool crisp voice, I was 
 fairly electrified ; but joy was the prevailing feeling. 
 There could be no remark so shocking, so contrary to 
 all received morality, but I should have welcomed it 
 at that moment with ecstasy. 
 
 As for Solemnity, he sat aghast. The Wig had 
 hitherto been a good listener : he had apparently 
 drunk in words of wisdom ; he had accepted inter- 
 minable platitudes on the true position of women, as 
 lying between political forwardness on the one side, 
 and conventual seclusion on the other. But now, 
 what was this ribaldry? Pomposity determined to 
 put his foot on it. 
 
 " ISTo Englishman," said he, "or at least no Pro- 
 testant, can approve of the immuring of females." 
 
 " Cranmer did," retorted the Wig, with an impas- 
 sive countenance. " He shut up his wife in a box."
 
 158 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 In a voice of indignant but ponderous contempt, 
 Pomposity demanded, " A member of the Church of 
 Home, I presume, sir 1 " 
 
 " ]^ot at all," said the Wig, with a chuckle of 
 suppressed merriment ; "I am no more a Papist than 
 Cranmer was." Then, after a moment's pause, he 
 added, " I don't believe the story about Mrs Cranmer." 
 At this statement Solemnity was slightly relieved, 
 and was beginning, " I should presume not indeed," 
 when the other cut in — 
 
 " For this reason, — that if the Archbishop had 
 once got her safe in the box, it is incredible that he 
 should ever have let her out again." 
 
 By this time I was enjoying myself ; the discom- 
 fiture of my tyrant was delightful to me, and my 
 only fear was that he would not provoke further 
 argument. As for him, he dimly saw that he was 
 being jested with, and his slow soul was roused; he 
 must bear testimony against this levity. So, after a 
 truly awful allusion to the Wig's " facetiousness," he 
 gave us several minutes on the blessings of a married 
 clergy. My spirit sank again, but an unwary pause 
 gave the foe a chance of interposing. 
 
 "Some great authorities, speaking from actual ex- 
 perience, have thought otherwise," said he. " Look 
 at Archbishop Usher, whose wife burnt all his pet 
 MSS. against Bellarmine. Bishop Hooper's wife, I 
 have heard, was a sad scourge ; and you will doubt- 
 less remember, sir" (this with an air of assumed
 
 THE MISOGYNIST. 159 
 
 deference to Pomposity, who did not remember, for 
 he had never heard these items of ecclesiastical his- 
 tory), " how a bishop of Down in the seventeenth 
 century said of his wife that he was joertcesus, utterly 
 weary of her 1 So also the Eeverend Laurence 
 Sterne declared that he was cegrotus ac fatigatus, 
 sick and tired — tixoris mece — of Mrs Sterne. Then 
 again — — " 
 
 But Pomposity would hear no more. He took up 
 a French paper (which he could not read, and would 
 certainly not have studied so intently, respectable 
 man, if he had had any notion of the contents), and 
 retreated from the distasteful conversation. 
 
 The misogynist blinked peacefully over his cigar- 
 ette at the now averted figure of his antagonist ; then 
 turning to me, he remarked that some of the leading 
 Reformers had a very just estimate of women ; and 
 he proceeded to quote some very rude remarks made 
 by John Knox in his " First Blast of the Trumpet 
 against the Monstriferouse Eegiment of Women." 
 This led him to a few anecdotes reflecting on queens 
 generally, and his face was a study when he alluded 
 to the Empress Bianca's unfortunate decease from a 
 surfeit of snails. 
 
 This discourse on queens once more brought Pom- 
 posity into the field, who, being unable to read his 
 paper, had reluctantly listened. " You speak, sir," 
 said he, "thus disrespectfully of crowned ladies, as 
 though they were all Jezebels "
 
 160 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 ("Jezebel was a woman of some spirit," put in the 
 misogynist meditatively. ) 
 
 " Or Messalinas." And now we had to endure a 
 solemn eulogy of good queens as a set-off against 
 what we had heard about bad ones. Fortunately, 
 a rash challenge as to what he thought of Queen 
 Elizabeth brought the Wig to the front again. 
 
 " Aylmer, in his ' Harborough,' does certainly 
 make an exception of Queen Bess," said he, " but I 
 don't know why. He contrasts her with all other 
 women, whom he calls ' triflers,' ' folyshnes,' ' flibber- 
 gibbes,' and so forth." 
 
 This, it will be observed, was a new move in the 
 campaign. We had passed from clerical wives to 
 queens, and now we were passing from queens to 
 an attack on the sex generally. There is no need 
 to give Pomposity's homily which followed. The 
 British matron had a stout but wearisome defender. 
 Her deportment, we were told, unlike that of the 
 French matron, gave respectability to our very 
 streets. 
 
 " Ah, that's just it ! " cried the Wig. " How true 
 is Washington Irving's description of such matrons ! 
 * Thus have I seen,' he says, ' some pestilent shrew of 
 a housewife, after filling her home with uproar and 
 ill-humour, come dimpling out of doors, swimming 
 and curtseying, and smiling upon all the world.' " 
 After this, with his queer little face puckered up in 
 enjoyment of his theme, he launched out into a dia-
 
 THE MISOGYNIST. 161 
 
 tribe on the disadvantages of matrimony. First he 
 quoted a rude comparison — I think by Seneca — be- 
 tween telling one's wife a secret and unnecessarily tak- 
 ing a sea voyage. Then he bethought him of Mon- 
 taigne's saying, " Cato, like ourselves, was disgusted 
 Avith liis wife." From that he proceeded to another 
 saying of Montaigne's, that marriage was like a cage ; 
 those who were out of it Avere always wanting to get 
 in, and those who were within were all for coming out 
 — a saying which, he said, was no doubt borrowed 
 from Chaucer's lines : — 
 
 " Marriage is such a rabble rout, 
 That those who were out would fain get in, 
 And those who are in would fain get out. " 
 
 The last line, he thought, was certainly true, the 
 second one less universally so. Then he had a fling 
 at people who married twice, and wondered if any 
 one had ever been so fortunate as Maboeuf in ' Les 
 Mis6rables,' Avho, being asked whether he had ever 
 been married, replied, "/'a/ oublic ! " 
 
 Thus he chatted on, encouraged by my attention 
 and Pomposity's dismay, till it Avas time for mo to 
 retire and Avrite my letters. 
 
 *' You deserve," said I, as I rose, " as a punishment 
 for your misogynism, to spend a long purgatory Avith 
 a mother-in-laAV ! " 
 
 " A mother-in-laAV ! " cried he. " Ah ! see there 
 again ! — the monster of modern comedy, the byAvord 
 
 T.S. — I. L
 
 162 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 of all ages ! Yet she, like the Injusta Noverca of 
 ancient times, is only the matron moved one step 
 on ! Did you ever," — this to Pomposity, who only 
 answered hy a solemn stare, — " did you ever read 
 ' Holy Living ' ? You will find there what a saintly 
 man thought of mothers-in-law. He tells how a man 
 threw a stone at a dog ; the stone missed the dog, 
 but hit his mother-in-law. 'Thus,' says the pious 
 author, 'the stone was not wholly in vain.'" 
 
 The party was now breaking up. Pomposity was 
 for bed, after spending, I fear, a most disagreeable 
 evening. The auburn Wig was lighting a fresh 
 cigarette. " Good night, sir," said I. "I wish I 
 could keep you company a little longer, but I shall 
 have to spend half the night over my letters, and 
 must keep myself awake with endless cigars." 
 
 Pomposity thought that I was speaking to him, 
 and answered with friendly gravity, "It is a pity to 
 do that, young man. One of the advantages of that 
 holy state which we have heard so strangely aspersed, 
 is the influence of the matron in discouraging ir- 
 regular hours. I wish you a good night, sir." 
 
 " Good night, sir — good night," chirped the voice 
 of the misogynist after us. " You know Avhat Jeremy 
 Taylor says 1 ' Better sit up all night than go to bed 
 with a dragon ! ' " 
 
 The next morning, Avaking rather late, I looked 
 out upon the "Place." Pomposity was just depart-
 
 THE MISOGYNIST. 163 
 
 ing in a voiture, with an air of perplexity and dis- 
 pleasure on his countenance, caused by madanie's 
 bon voyages and a plaisirs, which he did not com- 
 prehend, and dimly conceived to be connected with 
 the bill which he still held in his hand ; and so, 
 without a smile or a wave of the hand, he departed. 
 
 Then I turned my eyes to a little marble-topped 
 table below my window, over which the awning was 
 stretched later in the day. There I beheld our friend 
 the misogynist taking his cafe au lait. His wig was 
 surmounted by a grey wideawake, so that I could not 
 see his face, but his voice mounted up from under it 
 in cheery strains ; and what was he doing 1 He was 
 actually engaged in presenting chocolates to two 
 little girls in very tight white caps — one our hostess's 
 Cecile, the other from the houlangerie opposite — 
 who were capering and dancing round liim, like the 
 " daughters of the Horseleech, crying, Give, give ; " 
 and at the same time justifying his conduct Avith 
 sundry bows and compliments, and wavings of the 
 wideawake, to the two inamans, who were laughingly 
 scolding him for spoiling les petites. 
 
 As I surveyed this prodigy, there arose in my 
 mind some very profound, original, and philosophic 
 considerations, which I here set down in order : — 
 
 First, That things are not always what they 
 seem. 
 
 Secondly, That when any person endowed with 
 dulness and authoritativeness says one thing.
 
 164 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 then it is pleasing to unregenerate human 
 
 nature to say the opposite. 
 Thirdly, That this faculty for opposition is a very 
 
 useful one ; for see what a miserable afternoon 
 
 I had spent for want of it. 
 Hear, then, in one word, the moral of my tale : — 
 Whe7i any one tores you, start a ]iaradox.
 
 A FETISH CITY. 
 
 BY FREDERICK BOYLE. 
 
 IMAGA. September 187S.] 
 
 SOME of the irreverent have long felt a suspicion 
 that the ancients knew more about this world 
 of ours than is accredited to them in the ' Classical 
 Atlas.' Greeks and Eomans did not publish the log 
 of every ship entering their ports, nor examine the 
 creAV of each oneraria returned from parts unknown. 
 The silence of pedantic geographers, who evidently 
 took small pauis to verify the accounts handed to 
 them, is not to be relied on. Gentlemen of that sort 
 feel more interest in refuting a predecessor, in triixmph- 
 ing over his misstated facts and mangling his theories, 
 than in widening the general knowledge. Neverthe- 
 less a man is startled at first when local antiquaries 
 invite him to credit Greek ruins in the Transvaal. 
 They do wisely to put forward unquestionable evi- 
 dence in support of such a statement. That has 
 been done. Friezes, capitals, and miscellaneous 
 objects, Greek in character beyond any doubt, have 
 been forwarded to Cape Town from the neighbour-
 
 166 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 hood of Bloemlaof. They are important enough to 
 show — if one may trust the judgment of those who 
 have examined them — that a large city once stood 
 there, and that high civilisation reigned therein. As 
 is usual when the spell of oblivion breaks, it is sud- 
 denly discovered that the fact was known long ago. 
 The oekist of Cape Colony, Van Eiebeck, mentioned 
 incidentally (edition of 1657, London) that far to the 
 north lay a great city, Momotopata, adorned with 
 temples, porticos, and columns. J^o one appears to 
 have heard of the place from that time till now. 
 Upon this evidence the ruins below Bloemhof have 
 been called by the name Van Eiebeck gives ; — by 
 the by, he adds that diamonds abound there. With- 
 out committing myself to any opinion, I wish to put 
 forward a very curious report I received on the 
 Diamond Fields from a digger, very poor and very 
 eccentric. At that time the idea of a Greek city in 
 South Africa would have been ridiculed without 
 mercy. I myself paid no attention to the tale, but 
 since a Greek city is now admitted, I cannot but 
 remember this man's declaration. 
 
 Very poor and very eccentric he was indeed. At 
 that time rags commanded no pity on the Fields, for 
 they often contained, in their dirtiest recesses, some 
 little store of gems which duchesses might envy. 
 Nor were we prone to accept a miserable way of life 
 as evidence of poverty, since examples familiar to 
 every one incidcated caution. But seeing this man 
 every day — for I lived just above his claim at
 
 A FETISH CITY. 167 
 
 Bultfontein — seeing him always at work, with an 
 animated jack-jumper of a bush-boy for sole com- 
 panion, I fell into the habit of wishing him good-day 
 and luck. He seldom answered, which fact gave, 
 perhaps, a zest to my unwearied courtesy. But when 
 he did throw back the dirty hair from his eyes, 
 swollen and bloodshot — the digger's eye, inflamed 
 with dazzle of the grit, and sunshine blazing in the 
 snowy walls of " stuff," and poisonous dust of lime 
 that fills the air — his reply was always " Nix, mate ! " 
 Early in our acquaintance I told him to bring me his 
 first " find," promising a fabulous price for luck. He 
 never brought it. His bush-boy grew more bird-like 
 and less human daily. It was not difficult to see that 
 these poor wretches were starving, presently. The 
 conviction struck me one day, and I invited the man 
 to my tent, whilst intrusting his boy to my head 
 Kaffir, Chawles. 
 
 The urchin had a due share of those extraordinary 
 gifts with which Providence has supplied his race for 
 our bewilderment. He mimicked successively a lion, 
 an elephant, a baboon, an ostrich, and other animals 
 within his experience ; fouglit a battle, and died ; 
 imitated me ; and then, whilst my Kaffirs rolled with 
 laughter, suddenly changed to a likeness of Chawles, 
 — all in that nervous, restless, uncomprehending man- 
 ner which makes the bush-boy resemble a bird the 
 more, the more he shows a simian intelligence. He 
 neither laughed nor seemed to know what he was 
 doing. His eyes never ceased to glint and turn.
 
 168 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 His small muscles quivered restlessly even ■when he 
 imitated, with marvellous trutli, the stately pawing 
 of a lion. Before his performance, and immediately 
 after, he devoured " mealies " and offal, nearly raw, 
 in quantities to astonish even a Kaffir. And then 
 he laid him supme, and slept, with features twitch- 
 ing, stomach swollen like a drum, and little thm legs 
 extended, but unrelaxed, ready to bound upon his 
 feet at the slightest noise. An extraordinary creature 
 is the Bushman, — one to drive conscientious anthro- 
 pologists to despair. 
 
 Meanwhile I entertained my guest. He told me 
 that he was an Africander of Huguenot blood. He 
 had traded on a large scale up country ; but one 
 misfortune after another had broken up his connec- 
 tion with the Kaffir chiefs, and reduced him to 
 digging on Bultfontein. Compassion Avould be quite 
 thrown away upon many of his fellows in that state 
 of life, but Vasson was not lucky. In four months 
 of hard work he had found nothing. I was able to 
 put the poor fellow into a small claim I had just 
 purchased, where the usual percentage of half the 
 finds for his labour should make him comfortable, 
 and might give him a fortune. So, the next day, he 
 set to work rejoicing. 
 
 I did not see much of Vasson after that, except on 
 a Saturday, when he brought my diamonds, if any, 
 and balanced accounts. The venture was fairly suc- 
 cessful. After a time I moved to Xew Eush, Avith a 
 round sum which my particular claun had brought
 
 A FETISH CITY. 169 
 
 me ; and then, though not unkicky upon the whole, 
 I met with an accident which laid me up for several 
 months. It was in that time that I really made 
 acquaintance with Vasson, Avho was very shy and 
 retirmg. Many stories he told to relieve the horrible 
 tedium of my illness. My friends more prosperous 
 were not unkind ; but the business of diamond-digging 
 in that halcyon day was too full of excitement, too 
 cruelly checkered by ups and downs, to leave remem- 
 brance for those " shut up and left " in the struggle. 
 A joyous word at the door, a hasty tale of somebody's 
 luck, or of somebody's folly, exhausted the charitable 
 impulse of my comrades. Vasson was a man of 
 another stamp — lower, I think, but more grateful 
 to me then. Somewhat dull, very self-conscious, 
 silent, as are all who have passed their life among 
 savages, and unable by constitution and habit to see 
 the best pomt of his own stories, he was still my 
 pleasantest companion — in fact, my only one. Many 
 curious hints and details I picked up from him of 
 life " up country," which I now regret to have let 
 pass without a note. But one tale of his — that which 
 I am about to transcribe — was impressed by three 
 repetitions. I am sure I have it correct. After 
 hearing, the reader may decide for himself whether 
 Cape Town antiquaries are right in identifying the 
 ruins below Bloemhof with the ancient Momotopata. 
 In 1861 Vasson went up towards "the Lakes" 
 with a train of five waggons, carrying about £5000 
 worth of goods, cotton, gunpowder, cutlery, and the
 
 170 TALES FROM "BLA.CKWOOD." 
 
 like. Even at that time the trade was not what it 
 had been. Competition had set in, and, as a neces- 
 sary consequence, a reckless system of credit. Though 
 the great chiefs still held themselves bound to one or 
 other trader, they began to cease coercing their in- 
 feriors. These, unrestrained by pride, and incapable 
 of balancing the advantages of honesty, did not regard 
 their bargains as sacred. They took what they could 
 get, promised everything, and performed as little as 
 possible. Under sufficient pressing, the kings would 
 still perpetrate horrible tortures upon a swindler ; but 
 the ferocity of their justice deterred humane traders 
 from appealing to it, the more especially since one 
 serious word from his black suzerain would have 
 stopped any chief — which word was not pronounced. 
 In fact, the monopoly was breaking up. But without 
 monopoly, in these days of enterprise and universal 
 speculation, savage trade cannot be carried on. I 
 must ask the reader to think out for himself the 
 necessity of this case, since I have no room to demon- 
 strate it. Ilis reflections will be greatly aided by a 
 short conversation with any merchant who has com- 
 mercial relations with Africa, with the far East, and 
 such latitudes. 
 
 Vasson understood his business, and he foresaw 
 the dead-lock which has since come about. He re- 
 solved to leave the track, already too much beaten by 
 Jews and carpet-baggers, who, getting their own goods 
 on credit, could afford, in a dishonest sense, to sell 
 them on the same terms. After eighteen months'
 
 A FETISH CITY. 171 
 
 wandering amongst old customers, he reached the 
 northern limit of the Matabele country. That war- 
 like people claim authority over all bordering tribes ; 
 and if the king had known that one of " his traders " 
 had ventured across the frontier, it might have cost 
 that daring man his life. But Yasson was well ac- 
 quainted with the risk. The Matabele keep a line 
 of desert round them, like the ancient Suevi. Their 
 ferocious bands constantly traverse it, but Vasson 
 trusted to his own vigilance, and the superhuman 
 cunning of his bush - boys. These people to the 
 trader are more than dogs to the sportsman. ]\Ty 
 friend's oxen and horses were all " salted " — that 
 is, had suffered and survived the attacks of the 
 tzetze-fly ; with them he confidently ventured into 
 parts unknown; and upon leaving the trade-route, 
 he followed a course due westward, in about the 
 latitude, as he thinks, of Sofala. 
 
 The desert barrier of the Matabele is about thirty 
 miles wide, beyond which, as they tell you, extends 
 a country to which " no man comes nor hath come 
 since the making of tlie world." That was the 
 qu.estion which Vasson proposed to test. A week's 
 journey through lands Avhere his oxen found abun- 
 dance of forage, showed him that the Matabele, in 
 this respect as in others, are indifferent to the truth. 
 He came upon a district well wooded, full of game, 
 and not uncultivated, though the people remained 
 invisible. They had cause to hide, with such savage 
 neighbours. Vasson scouted assidviously, but failed
 
 172 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 to discover so much as a farm-hut. He had not yet 
 quite passed the area of veldt lands, and with some 
 judgment and risk could take his ■waggons in a line 
 toleraljly straight. Twenty Hottentots and Bastards 
 well armed made his company, hesides haK-a-dozen 
 teamsters, and as many bush-boys. They had stood 
 by him in worse fights than he was likely to en- 
 counter. 
 
 "Where there is cultivation there must be people, 
 and where people, trade. For the raw material ap- 
 peared in plenty, and if these barbarians did not yet 
 know the delight of cotton cloths and rum, business 
 would be only the more profitable. Exciting work 
 it is to push through an unknown country when 
 the population remains obstinately out of sight, but 
 African traders of the old school do not easily take 
 alarm. Nevertheless, when he had marched for 
 three weeks on end through this peopled solitude, 
 passing never a road, seeing no house nor any in- 
 habitant, Vasson began to feel anxious. For his life 
 he entertained no fear at all, but a thousand accidents 
 might ■svreck his fortune ; and his Hottentots, afraid, 
 like all negroes, of the unkno-wn, grew more and more 
 gloomy as they advanced. Game, however, showed 
 in plenty, and thus the men escaped all pretence of 
 hunger, that supreme excitement of insubordination 
 and alarm. 
 
 After three weeks' steady journeying they found 
 themselves before a chain of hills which barred their 
 course. The vegetation had become more dense, and
 
 A FETISH CITY. 173 
 
 each day it grew more difficult to force the waggons 
 on, Vasson announced that if from their tops no 
 satisfactory prospect could be seen, he would turn 
 back, and try districts eastward of the Matabele, 
 which are known, indeed, but rarely visited. Accord- 
 ingly, he left the waggons there, and climbed the 
 nearest hill with a few trusty Hottentots. A day 
 and a half brought him to the top, and from a clear 
 knoll he looked across the plain below. First to 
 catch his sight Avas a great river flowing northward, 
 along the foot of the high ground. Its banks, thickly 
 wooded, were patched with clearings of lighter green, 
 Avhich showed more frequent towards the left, where 
 a long space seemed to mark a town. Xot less than 
 twenty miles of country lay before Vasson's eye, so 
 far as he could judge, and it was all peopled and 
 cultivated. He took rough bearings of a kloof or 
 pass which seemed likely to be practicable for his 
 Avaggons, and returned in great contentment. Half- 
 way back he met a couple of the men left in charge 
 escorting a number of strangers. The latter halted, 
 whilst the Hottentots delivered their message. They 
 brought overtures of friendship from an unknown 
 sovereign. Vasson instantly produced his flask, and 
 opened communication. The ambassadors were much 
 like any other negroes — almost naked, well-shaped, and 
 snub-featured. Their ornaments and clothes showed 
 no sign of intercourse with Europeans, at which view 
 the trader rejoiced. They wore a smiling and gentle 
 expression, and carried no arms. The one peculiarity
 
 174 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 which, struck Yasson was their mode of arranging 
 the hair — that distinctive mark among negro tribes. 
 These people shaved the crown of the head, and 
 twisted their wool back over a pad from forehead 
 to nape. They spoke Matabele with some difficulty. 
 
 The purport of their message was an invitation to 
 the royal kraal. They said that .the white man's 
 presence had been reported to their king long ago, to 
 his great satisfaction. He wished no better than to 
 trade, and he would make himself responsible for the 
 white man's stock. In earnest of liis good intentions, 
 he had sent these officers to guide the travellers, in- 
 trusting tliem with presents of food. All this is so 
 usual on the part of a negro monarch that Vasson 
 did not feel surprise. Though omitting no pre- 
 caution, he followed the ambassadors readily. They 
 did not lead him through the kloof which his 
 sagacity had chosen, but guided the waggons by a 
 longer route, perhaps more convenient, but toilsome 
 enough. 
 
 It is hard work to gather details from an African 
 trader. A negro is a negro to him, a king is a king, 
 and his palace is sufficiently described by the noim- 
 substantive. All that occurred to Vasson as worth 
 mentioning about this people was, that they seemed 
 more intelligent and better-tempered than the warrior 
 tribes with whom he had hitherto done business. 
 They were fairer, perhaps ; but in a negro kraal of 
 the interior every shade of complexion may be no- 
 ticed, from soot-black to bronze-yellow. Their feat-
 
 A FETISH CITY. 175 
 
 Tires, too, were comparatively regular, but scarcely- 
 more so than in other cases. 'No exercise of memory 
 could recall anything more peculiar about king or 
 subjects. His majesty received the guest with usual 
 ceremonies, raised him a large hut, and showed a 
 perfect bewilderment of joy at the presents offered. 
 He had never seen a white man before ; and such 
 European manufactures as had hitherto made his 
 choicest spoil had been won from marauding Mata- 
 bele. The king was young and good-looking. He 
 possessed some hundreds of wives, a little army of 
 caboceers, and used such ceremonial as is affected by 
 other negro potentates. Trade proved to be excellent. 
 The people had quantities of ivory, dressed skins, a 
 good deal of gold-dust, and a few ostrich-feathers of 
 high-class. Some ancestral stones they valued also, 
 which Vasson now recognises to have been diamonds. 
 For the sake of encouragement he bought a few 
 from influential personages ; but putting no value on 
 them, they were soon lost. The trade could be pro- 
 perly described by no word less emphatic than 
 "roaring." Whole tusks of ivory Vasson bought for 
 a roll of cotton, feathers at six pennyworth of rum, 
 superb karosses at a similar rate. In two months he 
 had sold all his stock remainmg, and justly considered 
 himself a capitalist. 
 
 During this time he passed through the adventure 
 which struck my imagination. The royal town, as I 
 have said, was clustered on a spur of the mountain, 
 with an arm of the river at its foot. The guides had
 
 176 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 brought Vasson over a defile many miles to tlie 
 southward, and so down the river-bank. But when 
 he began to think of returning, he remembered that 
 kloof upon the northern side of the spur, which 
 would certainly cut off many miles of road, if practi- 
 cable. To his inquiries the answer was i;nanimous, 
 that a thousand difficulties intervened. But some- 
 thing in the manner of his hosts convinced A^asson 
 that they were telling a falsehood. Having now 
 such a precious cargo, all kinds of fancies and 
 suspicions gathered in his mind. He resolved to ex- 
 plore ; and with that object accustomed the people 
 to see him take long walks into the country, with 
 his gun and a bush-boy. Then, having disarmed the 
 jealovisy of these simple fellows, he set out one day 
 for the excursion. 
 
 Several paths led from the town to farm-lands on 
 the river-bank. Yasson intended to round the hill, 
 but, after walking a couple of miles, he crossed a 
 narrow track that mounted on his right. "Without 
 hesitation he followed this short cut. The steep and 
 l)roken path seemed to have had few travellers of 
 late, but it climbed in a direction such that Vasson 
 began to hojie it would take him to the kloof itself. 
 The distance was greater than he had thought ; four 
 hours' good walking carried him only to the crest of 
 the descent. He met no soul, but fetishes in abun- 
 <lance, which chilled the very marrow of his bush-boy. 
 Fearsome objects they were indeed, — bits of awful 
 rag tied to sticks, rotten chunks of wood across the
 
 A FETISH CITY. 177 
 
 road, feathers and strings fluttering on a branch. 
 These things became more frequent as they went on, 
 and Vasson began to fear that the kloof might be a 
 fetish place, which would account for everything. 
 
 The path ended suddenly at a table-rock, which 
 stood sheer above the entrance to a defile. Vasson 
 halted in amaze. Before and above him rose a great 
 propylon garlanded with creepers. Its blocks of 
 huge stone showed scarcely one eff'acing mark of 
 time. Gods long forgotten held court thereon, 
 accepted tribute of peoples extinct, received the 
 Avorship of mighty monarchs unrecorded. The cor- 
 nice harboured flowers and birds in its bold ledge, 
 but the shadow of it fell almost as clean as on the 
 day when ancient colonists raised it — who shall tell 
 how many centuries ago ! The great arch stood at 
 right angles to Yasson's place, and spanned nearly 
 half the narrow cleft. Twenty men abreast could 
 have walked through it, and the ground below Avas 
 level like a causeway, though overgrown Avith brush. 
 To left, the sheer precipice advanced so suddenly 
 that Vasson could catch but a glimpse of the river ; 
 to right, at a hundred yards' distance, the semicircle 
 was completed, shutting out all further view up the 
 pass. A deadly silence reigned. Not a breath 
 stirred the glossy leaves, shining and glittering 
 against the hot blue sky. Whip -like creepers 
 trailed from the cornice without a shiver, and their 
 bright stars of blossoms hung motionless. The sun- 
 shine burnt with stilly vehemence upon the pale-red 
 
 T.s. — I. M
 
 178 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 stone, and checkered it with shadows deep as sculp- 
 tured leaves. Such sight as that never came before 
 the wanderer's eye. Yasson was seized with a reckless 
 curiosity to know what lay beyond. 
 
 Eight and left the cliff rose like a wall, so cut by 
 human labour. "Where he looked down, the vines 
 beneath his feet had been smoothed away, but at a 
 little distance on either side they fell to the very 
 ground. He turned to force a way through the 
 bush, and thus caught sight of his companion, who 
 lay prostrate and shivering with fear, his eyes 
 covered. Thus Avere the natives used to fall, no 
 doubt, while they supplicated the fetish. Yasson 
 told the half-inanimate creature that he wished to 
 consult the gods in their very home, and left him 
 there. He pushed without difficulty along the 
 escarpment, for such it Avas- — designed, without 
 doubt, for the use of archers in case of attack. A 
 few yards on, he found a creeper suitable, slung his 
 rifle, and dropped down. Thoughtlessly letting go 
 his hold, he fell waist-deep into a morass, hidden by 
 broad-leaved plants and herbage. A cry of despair 
 escaped him, but the bottom of the morass proved to 
 be hard as stone. After great exertions, sounding 
 with his ramrod, he gained the bank, which was 
 faced with slabs of granite. Superhuman in its 
 grandeur the arch appeared as Yasson stood beneath 
 it and looked through. Upon the side remote from 
 his former station, footholes had been rudely cut, 
 and two strong ropes hung from the top. He guessed
 
 A FETISH CITY. 179 
 
 a secret now. By this staircase mounted the fetish- 
 priests to play their savage tricks upon the simple 
 folk who asked their aid. 
 
 Keeping a look-out for magicians and snakes, Vas- 
 son walked up the kloof. After two or three turn- 
 ings, always between those barriers of cliff, which 
 at each corner bore a ruined turret, he saw at length 
 the open space beyond, and once more halted with a 
 thrill. What he had supposed a kloof was a level 
 basin of many hundred acres. Though it was well 
 clothed with trees, he could trace the lie of the land ; 
 but no opening appeared save that in which he stood. 
 Lofty hills closed round it like a wall. But other sights 
 absorbed him. The causeway he had followed led 
 to another propylon, and through that to a maze of 
 stately ruins. White as marble in the distance shone 
 the walls of a city, gapped, dismantled, but still 
 superb. Only a glimpse of their circuit could be 
 gained through intervening clumps of wood. Above 
 and under and among the ruins green heads of foliage 
 rose high into the air, with white columns gleaming 
 through. Vasson was but a trader, and not imagina- 
 tive ; but such a sight killed fear. Experience told 
 him that the fetish-men themselves would not be 
 likely to dwell in these haunted ruins ; indeed he 
 marked a few brown huts under a knoll, with people 
 moving to and fro. Heedless of consequences in 
 his excitement, he plunged into the woods upon 
 his left. 
 
 Stumbling over broken columns, turned from his
 
 180 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD," 
 
 course by walls half erect, he struggled on, guided by 
 the hunter's instinct. After two hours' work the 
 bastions of the city gleamed on a sudden through the 
 trees. He had approached within fifty yards before 
 seeing them. Like a hill of masonry the dismounted 
 blocks sloped upwards. Trees stood amongst them, 
 bushes sprang in every cleft between huge stones. 
 Ten yards in air hung a big rock, lifted by the crest 
 of a young cotton-tree, hurrying towards the light. 
 Vasson climbed easily over the ruins. Within he 
 found a vigorous jungle reigning, pavements all 
 covered and broken, streets and houses uprooted. A 
 few yards on either side bounded his utmost view, 
 but what he saw convinced him of the luxury once 
 ruling in this savage land. To right and left he made 
 his way, finding only trees and thickets in a wilder- 
 ness of rubbish. The tall white columns evidently 
 stood in another quarter of the town. It Avas time 
 to set back. But just as he made up his mind to 
 turn, Vasson caught a glimpse of more important 
 ruins, and pushed on for a last chance. 
 
 Another scramble on walls overthrown brought him 
 to the edge of such a cavity as misdirected experience 
 enabled him to recognise with ease. It was a " pan," 
 says Vasson, fitted with seats half-way round. Those 
 who know South African scenery will perceive how 
 natural was the mistake. What Vasson thought to 
 be a "pan" was doubtless a theatre. It seemed to 
 me strong evidence of truth that the man should in- 
 telligibly describe objects so far beyond his knowledge
 
 A FETISH CITY. 181 
 
 as a propylon and a Greco-Egyptian theatre. The 
 ranges of seats were almost perfect, and the wall of 
 the nposkenion — to use the proper word — could be 
 distinctly followed. Enough of it was left to give 
 half-a-dozen persons a lofty seat. So many, in fact, 
 lounged upon it, basking in the sun. The bright 
 colours of their dress caught Vasson's eye iipon the 
 instant. He crouched in superstitious awe, for his 
 nerves had been long on stretch. The skin of these 
 people was white, their costume strange. Instinc- 
 tively the explorer hid, but not in time. They saw 
 him, and, leaping from the perch, they fled with an 
 eerie clamour. Peering down, Yasson saw them pass 
 between the shattered orchestra and the public seats. 
 All his tremors vanished. The white complexion was 
 yelloAV and diseased, the white hair sapless, the bril- 
 liant dresses fluttering tufts of rag. The creatures 
 who dared to occupy that haunted city were Albino 
 idiots, a class common in negro - land. Of their 
 colour the fetish-men made use, no doubt, when need- 
 ful, and their foolishness preserved them from the 
 terrors of the place. 
 
 Vasson hasted back, though he judged that the 
 Albinos' exaggerated report would be more likely to 
 alarm the priests than to stir them to pursuit. He 
 had marked his track, of course, and followed it with 
 speed. "When the brown huts again came into sight, 
 he was not surprised to observe a great animation 
 reigning. The Albinos all Avere there, fluttering like 
 a small crowd of parrots on the ground. But the
 
 182 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 fetish men and women had doubtless withdrawn to 
 perform the incantations in which they at least 
 believe, and to construe this portent with awful 
 alarms. Vasson crept from bush to bush across the 
 open, gamed the kloof, plunged into the morass where 
 he had sounded it, swarmed the cliif, and found his 
 bush-boy — still prostrate, still with eyes covered, still 
 praying or sleeping, or — one knows not what to fancy 
 of a creature but half human. At his master's kick 
 he raised himself quietly to follow. Choosing a back 
 way they reached the town before sunset, and Vasson 
 called upon the king at once for his P.P.C. He 
 " grasped the situation," and perceived that the fetish- 
 men would be no long time before discovering that 
 the white stranger had explored their mysteries. The 
 small surplus of his stock Vasson distributed amongst 
 the royal household and the most powerful cahoceers. 
 Twenty - four hours after beholding these strange 
 sights he inspanned for the home journey. 
 
 Vasson passed safely through the ]\Iatabele realm, 
 not without suspicion, however. Judicious bribes 
 saved him. In reaching the colony he found himself 
 a man of fortune. But successful traders in South 
 Africa are the favourite victims of legal knavery. 
 They gain an exaggerated notion of their shrewdness, 
 which is only rectified by disastrous matching with 
 the trained wit of German Hebrews. Vasson, like 
 others, Avas as good as ruined the day he opened busi- 
 ness. Three years after, he was obliged to take the 
 " Kaffir road " once more, and his course was naturally
 
 A FETISH CITY. 183 
 
 directed towards that rich, retiring, and unsophisti- 
 cated population, the secret of whose existence he 
 had breathed to no soul living before me. But cir- 
 cumstances had changed. Who shall guess how the 
 Matabele had heard of his illicit explorations, or how 
 rumours wander across the desert? That question 
 has occupied many minds, but it did not seem actuel 
 to Vasson when the Matabele seized his waggons, 
 arms, goods, and Hottentots for treason, taking credit 
 for leaving him his life. My poor friend returned 
 with a single horse and a sack of " mealies." The 
 first venture into fairyland made his fortune; the 
 second ruined him beyond hope. After that catas- 
 trophe he rubbed along with petty trade, penuri- 
 ously saving up for another expedition. The ancients 
 were wise. It costs a man his life to see the mys- 
 teries of the gods. In the hope of sudden wealth 
 Yasson had tried the Diamond Fields, but to no pur- 
 pose, for the object he had in view. None who keep 
 before them a definite design succeed there, the evil 
 Fates alone know why, for surely these deserve pro- 
 tection. "When I left, Vasson had gathered but a very 
 few hundred pounds toward the thousands needed. I 
 have heard nothing from him since, but the news- 
 papers inform us that Momotopata has been identified 
 in certain Greek ruins below Bloemhof in the Trans- 
 vaal. What, then, was Vasson's city? Were there 
 two Greco-Egyptian colonies?
 
 THE GASCON O'DEISCOL 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE FORGING OF THE 
 
 ANCHOR." 
 
 [MAGA. May 1878.] 
 
 THE O'Driscols have long ceased to be a ruling 
 family in West Cork, where they once held 
 sway as petty kings of Corca Laidhe, a district nearly 
 corresponding to the diocese of Eoss, Their power 
 was broken at the battle of Tralee, where "The 
 Gascon," and many of his house, fell before the 
 lances of the Anglo - Norman chivalry, a.d. 1235. 
 He was Aulay, fourth son of Domnach Mor, whose 
 pedigree to Ith, uncle of Milesius, may be read at 
 large in the ' Genealogies of the Corca Laidhe ' (Misc. 
 Celt. Soc. Dublin, 1849), a tract enriched with curious 
 matter by the late Dr John O'Donovan and by the 
 present learned and lieverend Dr John Quarry. Not 
 the least curious item in the pedigree is the note 
 which states how young Aulay got his surname, fur- 
 nishing the foundation for the following ballad : — 
 
 " Is aire a debvadh in Gasguineach de: a n-gill 
 refill tucadli h-e do lucJit luingi cendaigh a cind a
 
 THE GASCOX O'DKISCOL. 185 
 
 dd hhliadhan dee, acus do bhi thoir no cor cuiredh 
 do fliairi fhina Ji-e, cor dearhhadh air beitJi na 
 fhuil tiasail, acus tdnic in fin ten tiireashaidh re 
 na lind, acus da h-indlaicedh ar a ais li-e chum a 
 thiri bodJieJi." 
 
 Here observe that, while no one is more verbose 
 than the Irish Celt in his highflown bardic composi- 
 tions, so no one can tell his story in fewer words 
 where the facts have to be recounted by way of 
 chronicle or family history. The form of this ballad is 
 that of a large class of poems devoted to local and per- 
 sonal history vnider the generic name of Dinnsenclms. 
 Pieces of this kind begin by proposing the subject as 
 a question, to which the answer is " jN'ot difficult " : 
 then follows the su.bstance of the story, told in most 
 cases with great directness, and ending regularly with 
 a repetition of the initial words of the first line. 
 
 I. 
 
 In old O'Driscol's pedigree, 
 
 'Mong lords of ports and galleys, 
 " The Gascon " whence 1 and who was he 
 Pirst bore the surname 1 tell us. 
 Not difficult the task 
 To answer what you ask. 
 
 II. 
 
 The merchants from the Biscay sea 
 To ports of Munster sailing.
 
 186 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 With wines of Spain and Gascony 
 Supplied carouse unfailing 
 
 To guests of open door, 
 Of old, at Baltimore. 
 
 III. 
 
 Till when, against one festal day, 
 
 O'Driscol stocked his cellars, 
 He found not but of gold to pay 
 In part, the greedy dealers ; 
 And, for the surplusage, 
 Gave this good son in pledge. 
 
 IV. 
 
 They bore the boy to fair Bayonne, 
 
 "Where vines on hills were growing ; 
 And, when the days of grace were gone, 
 And still the debt was owing. 
 
 The careful merchant's heart 
 Grew hard with angry smart. 
 
 " The wine I sold the Irish knave 
 
 Is spent in waste and surfeit ; 
 The pledge for payment that he gave 
 Remains, a sorry forfeit : — 
 
 Bring forth the hostage boy 
 And set him on employ."
 
 THE GASCON O'DRISCOL. 187 
 
 VI. 
 
 " ISTow, youth, lay by the lettered page, 
 
 Leave Spanish jjipe and tabor 
 To happier co-mates of thy age. 
 And put thy hands to labour. 
 
 Ten ridged rows of the vine 
 To dress and till, be thine." 
 
 VII. 
 
 From solar-chamber came the lad ; 
 
 In sooth, a comely creature 
 As e'er made eye of mother glad 
 In well-shaped limb and feature. 
 
 As 'mid the vines he stepped, 
 His cheek burned, and he wept. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " The grief that wrings this pungent tear 
 
 Springs not from pride or anger ; 
 Let be the hoe my hunting-spear, 
 The pruning-knife my hanger : 
 The work ye will I'll do ; 
 But, deem my kinsmen true. 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Be sure, in some unknown resort 
 Their messengers have tarried ;
 
 188 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 Some head-Avind held their ship in port, 
 Some tribute-ship miscarried ; 
 
 Else never would they leave 
 Their pledge without reprieve. 
 
 " I've seen when, round the banquet board 
 
 From stintless-circling beaker 
 To all the !N"ame our butlers poured 
 The ruby-royal liquor, 
 
 And every face was bright 
 With mirth and life's delight. 
 
 XI. 
 
 *' And, as the warming wine exhaled 
 
 The shows of outward fashion, 
 Their very hearts I've seen unveUed 
 In gay and frank elation ; 
 
 And not a breast but grew 
 More trusty, more seen through. 
 
 XII. 
 
 " These vineyards grew the grape that gave 
 
 ]\Ty soul that fond assurance ; 
 And if for them I play the slave, 
 I grudge not the endurance, 
 
 'Not stronger mandate want 
 To tend the truthful plant."
 
 THE GASCON O'DRISCOL. 189 
 
 xm. 
 
 The seniors of the sunny land 
 Beheld him daily toiling, — 
 (Old times they were of instincts bland 
 The pagan heart assoiling) — 
 
 And this their frequent speech 
 And counsel, each with each : — 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " A patient boy, Avith gentle grace 
 
 He bears his yoke of trouble ; 
 Serenely grave the ample face, 
 The gesture large and noble. 
 Erect, or stooping low, 
 Along the staky row. 
 
 XV. 
 
 " Where'er he moves, the serving train 
 
 Accord him their obeisance ; 
 The very vintagers refrain 
 
 Their rude jests in his presence ; 
 
 And — what is strange indeed — 
 His vines their vines exceed. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " The tendrils twine, the leaves expand, 
 The purpling bunches cluster
 
 190 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 To pulpier growth benoatli his hand, 
 As though 'twere formed to foster 
 ]^y act of mere caress 
 Life, wealth, and joyousness. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Tt seems as if a darkling sense 
 
 In root and stem were native ; 
 As if an answering effluence 
 And virtue vegetative 
 
 (Anomteil kings own such) 
 Went outward from his touch. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " Behold, his nation's sages say 
 
 A righteous king's intendance 
 Is seen in fishy-teeming bay 
 
 And corn-fields' stook'd abundance, 
 In iidder-weighted cows 
 And nut-bent hazel boughs. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " 'I'hese Scots, apart in ocean set 
 
 Since first from Shinar turning, 
 Preserve the simple wisdom yet 
 Of mankind's early morning, 
 
 AVhile God with Adam's race 
 Still communed, face to face.
 
 THE GASCON DRISCOL. 191 
 
 XX. 
 
 " 'Not in the written word alone 
 
 He woos and warns the creature ; 
 His will is still in wonders shown 
 Through manifesting Nature ; 
 
 And I^ature here makes plain 
 This youth was born to reign. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " 111 were it, for a merchant's gains, 
 
 To leave, at toil appointed 
 For horny-handed village swains, 
 God's designate anointed : 
 
 But good for him and us 
 The act magnanimous. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Blest are the friends of lawful kings 
 
 To righteous rule consenting : 
 Secure the blessing that he brings 
 By clemency preventing ; 
 
 And, granting full release, 
 Eeturn him home in peace. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " And, ere your topsails take the wind. 
 Stow ye within his vessel
 
 192 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 A pipe the ripest search may find 
 In cellars of the Castle ; 
 Of perfume finer yet 
 Than rose and violet. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " That, when, at home, his kin shall ponr 
 
 The welcoming libation, 
 Such rapture-pitch their souls shall soar 
 Of sweet exhilaration. 
 
 As Bacchus on his pard 
 With moist eye might regard." 
 
 XXV. 
 
 They stowed the ship ; he stepped on board 
 
 In seemly wise attended ; 
 But this Avas still his parting word 
 When farewells all were ended : 
 " Be sure my father yet 
 Will satisfy the debt." 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 And, even as from the harbour mouth 
 
 They northward went careering, 
 There passed to windward, steering south, 
 O'Driscol's galley bearing. 
 
 From Baltimore, the gold 
 Of ransom safe in hold. 
 In (h)old.
 
 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 
 
 BY MRS SCOTT-MONCRIEFF. 
 
 [MAGA. July 1888.] 
 
 IT was cowslip time on the Elie links. Every howe 
 and hillock was yellow with them, and their de- 
 licate odour was wafted by the breeze down to the 
 sandy shore of the sea. 
 
 In a holloAV where, during the storms of spring, 
 the south wind driving the sand up among the bent, 
 and the north wind blowing it back again, had be- 
 tween them piled a long wavy drift, Nellie Davidson 
 sat with her lap full, tying a cowslip-ball. She had 
 made them every year since she was a baby, and this 
 year there were more flowers and finer ones than she 
 ever remembered. So she had gathered handfuls ; 
 and now she sat putting them firmly together • then 
 she tied them, and tossed her ball high in the air by 
 
 T.s. — I. N
 
 194 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 way of finish. Down it fell on the dry bent ; she 
 picked it up and buried her face in its balmy, deli- 
 cious roundness. All the sweet florets clustered to- 
 gether, and each curved, creamy petal was dotted 
 with dainty touches of red. " Those be rubies, fairy 
 favours," she repeated to herself, recalling what the 
 old minister had said once long ago when he met her 
 picking them. The words were so pretty, they al- 
 ways came back to her mind when the links were 
 gay with her favourite flower. 
 
 As she thought of them to-day, they suggested 
 something else. Elie was famous locally for its 
 rubies (or, to be correct, garnets), and she meant to 
 spend the afternoon looking for them among the grey 
 gravel on the beach. The best place was further on 
 among the rocks below the Lady's Tower. She 
 gathered up her remaining cowslips and stuck them 
 into the breast of her gown, and throwing her ball up 
 and catching it again as she Avent along, she took a 
 short path across the links. 
 
 It was a perfect day in early summer — the sky 
 blue, with little feathery white clouds here and there, 
 unmoved by winds. Away and away up overhead 
 the larks sang out of sight, and the wide sea to the 
 southward Avas pale-turquoise-coloured. On its still 
 expanse one or two fishing-boats, with ruddy brown 
 sails, were waiting for the wind to bring them in. 
 As ]^cllie paused a minute to watch them, she could 
 hear distinctly the rattling sound of the heavy oars
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 195 
 
 moving in the rowlocks of the nearest, quite a anile 
 away, as the crew, weary of waiting, were fain, to row 
 to the harbour. They were hound for Elie — or " the 
 Ailie," as true Fife folk call it. 
 
 As she pursued her leisurely way eastward, looking 
 towards the little fisher-town of St Monans — with 
 its cottages gathered as if for protection round its 
 ancient church, whose square-towered pointed belfry 
 is a landmark far and near — looking along the links, 
 she saw, crossing them beyond the Lady's Tower, 
 which she had almost reached, a tall familiar figure, 
 Avith the picturesque outline peculiar to fishermen. 
 It was Walter Lindsay, and he was coming this way. 
 
 "Walter and JSIcllie were "long acquaint," as they 
 would have said   and the neighbours would have 
 told you, moreover, that they were keeping company. 
 But here, as is usually the case, rumour outran fact 
 — although, had the neighbours seen the look of 
 pleasure in Nellie's big blue eyes, or read her secret 
 thoughts, they would have plumed themselves on 
 their prophetical powers. 
 
 Xellie's mother was a widow — and one of those 
 meek quiet women for whom widowhood seems to 
 extinguish all active interest in life. Her only 
 brother, much younger than she was, had been 
 taken in hand by an. uncle in Colinsburgh, who 
 owned a boat at the Elie, and with him and his 
 sons Johnnie spent all his time. So ISTellie was left 
 pretty much to the freedom of her own will. She
 
 196 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 had excelled in needlework at school, and had since 
 been " at the sewing," as elementary dressmaking is 
 called in Scotland. She kept her own dress neat and 
 dainty, and had an intuitive sense of what was be- 
 coming. She looked very bonnie now standing in 
 the sunshine, which lit up her pretty brown hair 
 with glints of gold — it was snooded back with a bit 
 of blue ribbon — and her gown was of some dark-blue 
 cotton stuff, made quite simply, and expressing the 
 grace of her figure. On Sundays, indeed, she adorned 
 herself with a much more elaborate toilet — copied 
 from the Edinburgh glories of the wardrobe of Miss 
 Crawfurd at Earlsferry House; and as Walter Lindsay 
 had of late volunteered his help in the choir, and sat 
 opposite !N"ellie at the other side of the precentor's 
 square table, her pretty face and her " Sabbath 
 claes " were present to his eyes for a long time 
 on Sunday, and to his heart all the rest of the 
 week. 
 
 Walter lived in St Monans, and ho. also had a 
 widowed mother — but she was a very different type 
 of widow — red-faced, imperious, and evil-tongued, in 
 so much that Walter's home with her was very far 
 from happy. His father, people said, had been a 
 quiet douce-tempered man, most long-suffering in his 
 married life ; and when the sea claimed him and all 
 his crew in one Avild winter storm ten years ago, for 
 his sake much sympathy had been felt for his widow, 
 and much kindness shown to her and the boy Walter.
 
 AN ELIE EUBY, 197 
 
 But as time went on and sympathy died out, the 
 neighbours felt it more and more difficult to show- 
 kindness to a woman who took all their little gifts 
 without a pretence of gratitude, who was as unwilling 
 to do an hour's work for them as she was ready to 
 demand their help and service for herself, who bor- 
 rowed what she never returned, and was ready to find 
 fault if you said a word to her. 
 
 The neighbourly debt of kindness came therefore 
 to be paid more and more exclusively to Walter, who 
 grew up a general favourite, and had a place and a 
 welcome at any fireside he chose to visit. He was 
 a fine lad — frank-faced and kind-hearted, strong and 
 active about his work, and ready to do many a little 
 handy turn for his friends. He could whistle like a 
 mavis — and sing too — and had a blithe hearty way 
 with him that was very popular. As he grew up —   
 learning every day more and more of his father's craft 
 as he hung about the pier of St Monans, and was 
 taken out now in this boat, now in that — his work 
 came to be worth wages, and for three years past he 
 had " hired," sometimes to one boat-owner, sometimes 
 to another, but chiefly Avith his friends the Laings in 
 St Monans, a family of four strapping sons under 
 the rule of their father, a regular old Viking of a 
 fisherman. 
 
 One day, some business on behalf of old Jamie 
 Laing taking him over to the Elie, he saw, standing 
 at the door of her mother's cottage at the Toft (as
 
 198 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 the fisher-houses there were called) honnie Nellie 
 Davidson. 
 
 She Avas slighter in biuld and gentler in manners 
 than any of the fisher-girls he was accustomed to see. 
 The charm of a pretty girl's face, as of a flower, is so 
 individual a thing, that comparisons between one and 
 another are unnecessary. Walter did not stop to 
 compare her with any of the St Monans girls. She 
 was at once and for ever peerless in his eyes. But 
 beyond an ingenuity in making errands for himself to 
 the Elie, and, as I have said, joining the choir of the 
 church there, ostensibly from friendship to the pre- 
 centor, he gave few signs of the attraction he felt. 
 He sat and " glowered " at her all the time of the 
 sermon, however, as Nellie soon perceived ; and after 
 several attempts to meet his eyes and snub the ardour 
 of their expression by her cold looks, she had been 
 worsted, and in self-defence obliged to look away. 
 
 Then when they rose to sing, she felt he listened 
 for her voice and matched his own with it, as can 
 only be done of intent ; and her feminine instincts 
 once on the alert, soon conveyed to her numberless 
 hints of his devotion, all-convincing m some moods 
 of mind, and explainable into nothingness at other 
 times, so that with no word of love spoken between 
 them these two young hearts Avere Avrapt in that 
 atmosphere of endless doubt and delicious hope, 
 that golden haze of imagination technically called 
 a love-affair.
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 199 
 
 As ISTellie stood now on a thyme-grown knoll of the 
 links Avatching Walter's approach, the path he fol- 
 lowed led him down to the beach and out of her 
 sight. She knew he must reappear in a few moments 
 climbing up the rocks on Avhich stood the Lady's 
 Tower, and that then he would be sure to see her. 
 Quick as thought she turned and ran down to the 
 shore on this side of the ruin, and having a moment 
 before made up her mind to meet and have a chat 
 with Walter, she now took pains to hide herself in 
 the angle formed by two big boulders, where she 
 could only be seen from the sea, and taking up hand- 
 fuls of the line black and grey sand, she let it rim 
 through her fingers and absorbed herself in watching 
 for the red sparkle of rubies amid the falling grains. 
 Her heart beat loud in her ears, conscious how nearly 
 she and Walter had met, and either this or the interest 
 she forced herself to give to her search kept her from 
 hearing his approaching footsteps until they were 
 close to her hiding-place, then in sudden alarm she 
 looked up just as his burly figure came round the 
 rocks and stood between her and the sea. 
 
 There was a moment's pause, and then he said with 
 a shy smile, " I kent ye Avere here." 
 
 Nellie strove to seem indifferent. " I cam' to seek 
 rubies," she said ; " there's an awfu' heap o' them in 
 the sand aboot here." 
 
 " An' I cam' to seek you," said Walter, with a 
 sudden eloquence delightfully astonishing to himself.
 
 200 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 and discomfiting to poor I^Tellie, who blushed to the 
 tips of her pretty little ears, and bent her head over 
 the sand "with an air of greater occupation than 
 before. 
 
 Having made so good a beginning, "Walter's confi- 
 dence in himself increased, and in a vague way, half 
 inspiration, half intention, he resolved to follow it 
 up. He seated himself, accordingly, on the sloping 
 grey shingle at her feet, with his back against one of 
 the boulders forming her little nook ; and on the 
 pretence of sharing Nellie's search for rubies, bent his 
 head until it was on a level with hers. 
 
 JS'ellie's heart beat louder than before, and she 
 cast about, as women will, for some means of escape 
 from the declaration in prospect. The first point un- 
 doubtedly was to seem at ease. In an easy tone she 
 inquired, therefore, " An' Avhae telt ye I was here 1 " 
 
 Walter saw she was afraid to look up, and, indeed, 
 she was too conscious of the ardour of his gaze to en- 
 counter it. " Folk hae w'ys o' kennin' things," he 
 said oracularly, " an' flooers dinna grow in this fashion 
 o' themsel's, 'at I ken o'." As he spoke, he opened 
 his hand — there lay her cowslip-ball ! 
 
 " Gie me it ! " cried Nellie, forgetting her tactics 
 and holding out her hand; "whaur did ye fin' itl" 
 
 " Wait a wee," said Walter ; " them 'at fin's keeps, 
 an' it's mine noo. I fand it up on the links, an' I 
 kent the lavrocks cudna mak' sic things." 
 
 He waited, expecting Nellie to ask again for the
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 201 
 
 flowers, but she was wary; pretending to continue 
 her search for rubies, she Avatched him turning over 
 the cowslip-ball in the palm of his big brown hand 
 in a gingerly fashion, as if he feared his touch might 
 bruise it. 
 
 " They're real bonnie," he said at last ; " it beats 
 me to ken hoo ye mak' them gang a' thegither like 
 that ; ye maun be real clever, l^eUie." His voice 
 dwelt on her name so tenderly that she was inclined 
 to resent his using it, but she was at the same time 
 afraid to raise such a personal question. 
 
 " It's easy dune when ance ye ken the w'y o't," 
 she replied ; "I mak' lots o' ba's like that ilka sim- 
 mer — they last nae tune." Since he was ready to 
 make much of the thing, she would make little of it. 
 
 " Sin' ye can mak' them sae easy, wuU ye no' gie 
 me this ane 1 " he asked, holding it closer to her 
 hand that she might take it if she chose. 
 
 " I'm no' carin'," quoth N^ellie, with a little toss of 
 her head ; and then, with a daring sense that she trod 
 on dangerous ground, she added, " tho' what i/ou sud 
 want wi' it I dinna ken." 
 
 " Div ye no' ^ " said Walter, in a low tone ; " I 
 like it because it's sae bonnie for ae thing, an' I lo'e 
 it because it was vrocht by ane that's mair bonnie 
 than a' the flooers." His voice trembled a little with 
 a reserve of feeling, which ISTellie tried again to 
 ignore. 
 
 " There's ane ! " she cried hastily, making a sudden
 
 202 TALES FIIOM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 dart among the sand after a supposed ruby : " no it 
 isna ; jist a bit o' shiny stane. I dinna ken wliy 
 folks sud speak sae muckle aboot findin' them. I 
 hae lookit an' lookit, an' there isna ane yet that I 
 can see. I'll awa hame." 
 
 "Dinna gang yet," pleaded Walter ; "bide a wee 
 and I'se help ye." The fact that she could not 
 escape unless he moved to let her pass, ■which 
 seemed far from his intention, did more to keep 
 her than his words, and she resumed her search 
 among the sands. 
 
 " Your fingers are ower big," she remarked, saucily, 
 after some minutes' busy silence. " Ye're better at 
 catchin' muckle fish than wee stanes." 
 
 This put Walter on his mettle. Wrapping the 
 cowslip-ball in a coloured handkerchief, and stowing 
 it away in his pocket with a carefulness not lost upon 
 Miss Nellie, he turned over on his elbow, and gave 
 all his attention to the work in hand. 
 
 The afternoon sun shone hotly upon them, and the 
 sand poured in a warm stream through his fingers as 
 he sifted handful after handful. At last fortune 
 favoured him, and he caught the i-uddy gleam of a 
 ruby among the small broken shells and sparkling 
 bits of mica, of which the shore was mainly com- 
 posed. It was quite a large one, and almost heart- 
 shaped. Without a word he picked it up and laid it 
 in Xellie's hand. 
 
 "Eh!" she cried, "that u a bonnie ane! Hoo
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 203 
 
 did ye see it 1 That's far bigger than the ane Jean 
 Tamson was sac prood o'." 
 
 "Wad ye like it?" asked Walter. 
 
 "Oh, I'll maybe find ane ruysel'," said Xellie, 
 guardedly. 
 
 "It's my hert, ye see," said Walter, smiling. 
 "An' -what wad ye gie me for it?" 
 
 " I'll gie ye that cooslip-ba' ye think sae muckle 
 o'," she answered, smiling too. 
 
 " I ha'e gotten that already," said Walter, " an' I'm 
 no' seekin' ony thing. Tak' it." 
 
 " Thank ye," said Nellie, doubtfully, afraid of the 
 consequences. " It's a grand big ane." 
 
 "What are ye gaun' to dae wi' them]" he asked, 
 continuing the search. 
 
 "Oh, I dinna ken," said Xellie. "I micht get 
 aneuch to mak' a brooch maybe." 
 
 "I ken something better ye micht ha'e," said 
 Walter, in a tone Avhich invited question. But 
 Nellie only looked mystified. "It's a thing I wad 
 like fine to gie ye, an' I'll never gie it to onybody 
 else." He paused again to take courage. Nellie 
 bent over the sand. "It wad mak' a braw ring, 
 Nellie ; an', oh, I avuss ye wad mairry me ! " 
 
 The almost trembling eagerness of his tone was not 
 without its effect on Nellie's heart, but she was out- 
 wardly immoved. Her blue eyes looked past him 
 and out to sea, while she said very demurely, "I 
 think I wad rayther ha'e a brooch."
 
 204 TALES FROM " BLA.CKWOOD." 
 
 AValter breathed hard. He had a vague sense 
 that her nimble wit would find some way of escape 
 from his question, and what to say next puzzled him 
 sorely. 
 
 "Kellie," he began at length, "I ken ye micht 
 mak' a better mairraige." 
 
 He could not have hit on a better line of attack. 
 She looked at him, and her heart turned traitor and 
 was ready to yield its citadel. 
 
 " I ken I'm no' much to boast o', an' there's ither 
 lads, I daursay, ye like mair." 
 
 " There is not," said his advocate in her bosom. 
 
 "Ye micht luik to be keepit better nor I cud dae," 
 he continued, filled with an increasing sense of un- 
 worthiness, " an' I ken I'm no' company for you." 
 
 " There's nane better ! " Avhispered the traitor heart. 
 Still her pretty red lips were pressed together, and 
 the expression of her face baffled "Walter's anxious 
 scrutiny. 
 
 " Aweel," he said, with a great sigh, " I see I'm 
 jist teasin' ye. I was ower ready to think ye micht 
 ha'e me." He rose slowly, with a disconsolate air, 
 and was turning away to leave her, Avhen she spoke, 
 in so low a tone he could hardly hear. *' I didna 
 say I wadna," she whispered. Walter stood motion- 
 less, and she repeated the words, looking up witli a 
 mischievous little smile, and rising as she spoke. 
 
 " Ye're in sic a hurry," she complained ; " you an' 
 me's no that long acquaint ; ye sud gie me time."
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 205 
 
 She leant against the rock, and plucked the yellow 
 lichen from it nervously with one hand; the other 
 held the ruby he had given her. 
 
 He came back to where she stood, and taking her 
 flower-like face between his two hands, turned it up 
 to his. " Nellie," he said, "I jist lo'e ye wi' a' my 
 hert and soul, and every bit o' me, and if ye lo'e me, 
 dinna hand awa, but tell me ance for a'." 
 
 Nellie struggled a little to free herself, but felt 
 proud at the same time that she could not. This 
 was a man to respect and love and yield to, and the 
 sense of his strength and manly power filled her 
 with triumph. It was sweet to have won such love ; 
 she would not dissemble any longer. " I dae lo'e ye, 
 Walter, I dae ; but ye shudna mak' me say it." 
 
 Walter threw his arms round her in a jDassionate 
 embrace, and as he pressed her fair head against the 
 breast of his blue knitted jersey, she felt the strong 
 beating of his heart throbbing against her cheek. 
 They were in that high -wrought state of feeling 
 which we only reach on tiptoe moments of life, and 
 which will not stand contact with the outer world, 
 when a sudden chatter of voices and a burst of laugh- 
 ter close by drove them apart instantly. Nellie 
 darted into the shelter of her nook between the 
 boulders, but Walter stood his ground. 
 
 "Oh, whae is it, Walter? cud they see us?" she 
 whispered anxiously. 
 
 " Na, na," said he, in a reassuring tone, " I diuna
 
 206 TALES FIIOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 see them yet; ye needna be feart." Then he added, 
 as the voices came nearer, " It's a waddin' frae St 
 Mmins. Sandy Begg and Jean Watson ; stan' up 
 an' ye'll see them." 
 
 " Na," said ]^ellie, decidedly ; " I dinna want them 
 to see me." 
 
 It was a walking wedding, common enough then, 
 and not unknown now in Fife. The bride and bride- 
 groom, with the best-man and bridesmaid, were walk- 
 ing along the shore to the minister's house in the 
 Elie to be married. Sandy and his best-man Avere of 
 course in their Sunday clothes. The best-man wore 
 an orange comforter wound twice round his throat, 
 Avith its ends buttoned inside his thick pea-coat. He 
 Avalked first with the bride, a bonnie sunburnt fisher- 
 girl, with a loud voice and a laugh like the cry of 
 a sea-gull. She wore a stout purple Avincey dress, 
 and an extraordinary arrangement of AA^hite flowers 
 on her hair, Avhicli Avas Avell oiled and tightly plaited 
 back. The Avreath, if anything so ungraceful may 
 bear the name, consisted of tAvo bunches of Avhite 
 artificial floAvers firmly fastened above her temples, 
 and the green portions of it, someAvhat resembling 
 sprays of asparagus, Avere liberally shoAvered Avith 
 glass dcAvdrops Avliich tinkled against each other, and 
 pattered on her forehead as she Avalked. 
 
 A similar Avreath adorned the bridesmaid's head — 
 and except that Sandy and Jean both Avore lug Avhite 
 kid gloves, there Avas no outAvard token distinguishing
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 207 
 
 the principals from their seconds in the affair. As 
 they took their way along the links, Sandy, who was 
 escorting the bridesmaid, stopped to hail "Walter. 
 
 " We're awa to be mairret ! " 
 
 "Ay, I see that." 
 
 " I wad ask ye to come wi' us ; but we hae nae 
 lass for ye." 
 
 The bride and bridesmaid laughed in chorus ; and 
 after bidding him hospitably to the supper to be 
 given in the bride's home on their return from " the 
 Ailie," they disappeared among the sand-dunes by the 
 shore. 
 
 Walter turned to ]N"ellie, who was looking up at 
 him. " They're out o' sicht noo," he said ; " but I 
 wad ha'e been prood tae be seen wi' you, l^ellie." 
 
 " I daursay that," was her rejoinder, with a light 
 laugh, as she met his meaning glance. She saw he 
 was thinking of and exulting in her confession of love 
 for him ; and with that coyness which seems native 
 to a girl's mind, she shrank from any more love- 
 making. " I think ae ruby's aneuch for ae day," she 
 said, springing to her feet and climbing the shingle 
 and natural rocky steps up to the grass. '*' I'm awa 
 hame." 
 
 " I'll gie ye a convoy," said Walter, following her 
 — and together they threaded their way over the 
 grass in the wake of the bridal party, whom they 
 were careful not to overtake. 
 
 They spoke little, but Nellie knew that Walter's
 
 208 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 thoughts were all about her — that her every look and 
 word was treasured by him; and he, on his part, 
 hoped she really loved him — feared lest he had 
 teased her into saying so — and longed greatly to hear 
 her sweet confession again. He was so afraid he 
 might forget her exact words. " I dae lo'e ye, 
 Walter, I dae," was not that Avhat she had said? 
 When they came to the holloAV in which Nellie had 
 found the finest flowers for her ball, she stooped to 
 pick some more. 
 
 " I'll get them for ye," said Walter, eagerly pre- 
 venting her, and gathering with careful fingers the 
 largest heads of blossom. IS'ellie stood and watched, 
 bidding him reject some, and pointing out others, 
 with a delicious sense of the unlimited command over 
 him with which his love invested her. He, with that 
 cunning with which love can gift the most simple- 
 minded of men, led her on to exercise the authority 
 which it is as sweet to obey as to wield, knowing that 
 the more she exercised it the closer would be the 
 link between them. 
 
 At last AValter's hands seemed full, and he pre- 
 tended he could gather no more ; " but here's an 
 awfu' bonnie ane — twa o' them — ye micht pu' yersel', 
 Nellie." 
 
 She bent down to pick them ; he lifted his head, 
 and their faces almost met. 
 
 " Ye micht gie me ae kiss noo, Nellie," he pleaded, 
 " jist to mak' me sure 'at ye meant what ye said."
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 209 
 
 Nellie glanced round, but there were no prying 
 eyes to witness — not a house in sight on shore, or a 
 boat on the sea, no living thing, only the happy larks 
 singing and soaring overhead. So resting her hand 
 for a moment on his shoulder as he knelt at her feet, 
 she gave him one fluttermg little kiss, and then, 
 blushmg crimson, ran away. He followed more 
 slowly, and did not overtake her until he reached 
 the open gate of a little field behind the Toft, through 
 which ran the footpath between Elie and St Monans. 
 Here some children were playing, and a woman with 
 a baby on her arm was sprinkling linen laid out to 
 bleach. Nellie sat on a big stone by the gate await- 
 ing him, safe in the presence of neighbours from 
 further importunities. Walter gave her the cowslips, 
 and with a brief smiling good-bye, they parted. He 
 took his way down to the shore and along the pier, 
 at whose further end was a breakwater, whereon 
 most of the Elie fishers sat smoking and chatting at 
 this hour. 
 
 Nellie watched him for a Avhile with a strange new 
 sense of possession, and interest in all his affairs, and 
 then gathering her flowers into a compact bunch, she 
 took her way slowly homewards. 
 
 She was uncommunicative by nature, and allowed 
 one month after another to pass by without telling 
 her mother of the understanding between Walter and 
 herself. 
 
 One night in November this silence was unex- 
 T.s. — I. o
 
 210 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 pectedly broken. Xellie had been sewing at the 
 cottage window, with a candle close beside her 
 work. The blind was drawn down more than half- 
 way, and on it the shadow of her head was clearly 
 recognisable to any passer-by who knew her. Walter 
 had been in the Elie as she knew that afternoon, and 
 as she sewed rapidly her heart was on the alert for 
 any sign of his neighbourhood. Her mother was also 
 in the kitchen ; but as her knitting did not require 
 light, she leant back in a shadowy corner by the 
 fire, the click of her knitting-wires keeping time to 
 the sound of IS^ellie's rapid stitching. Suddenly the 
 quiet was broken by an approaching footstep, one 
 light tap on the window-pane, and a loudly whis- 
 pered " K'ellie ! " outside, distinctly audible to both 
 women. 
 
 The colour rose to ^N'eUie's temples, and she looked 
 towards her mother, who worked on in silence. 
 
 " It's some ane seekin' me, mither," she said, awk- 
 wardly. " I'll no' be lang ; " and pushing her work 
 aside, she went out of the room, closing the door 
 behind her. 
 
 AValter stood waiting in the darkness, and before 
 her eyes became sufficiently accustomed to it to see 
 him, she was folded in his arms. 
 
 " I ha'ena seen ye for fower days," he said, in a 
 fond whisper. " An' whan I saw your shadow on the 
 bhnd I jist cudna gang past." 
 
 " Mither was wi' me," returned Nellie. " She's
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 211 
 
 awf u' guid to me, Walter ; she never speirs whaur I 
 gang or what I dae, an' I dinna ken why I ha'ena 
 telt her aboot yon. It's no' kind. I think we sud 
 tell her noo. Widl ye come ben 1 " 
 
 Walter hesitated ; but when K'ellie took him by the 
 hand and drew him into the house, he did not resist. 
 She opened the door into the kitchen, and led the 
 way. He followed. 
 
 " Mither," said Nellie, ceremoniously, " this is 
 Walter Lindsay. I askit him in." 
 
 Mrs Davidson rose and came forward. " I'm glad 
 to see ye," she said, offering her hand, which Walter 
 took awkwardly enough. jSTellie pushed a chair to 
 the fire for him, and took up her work, sewing for 
 some moments with a fierce energy. The other two 
 sat silent. Then ]\Irs Davidson began some polite 
 talk about St Monans, the past season's fishing, and 
 so forth, Walter furnishing elaborate answers to her 
 questions. These flagged after a time, and ISTellie, 
 seeing neither of them were likely to take the initia- 
 tive, stopped sewing, and plunged into the subject. 
 " Mither, Walter's seekin' me to mairry him." 
 
 Mrs Davidson began in a fluttered fashion — 
 "Weel" — and then paused. 
 
 It was Walter's turn. " I houp ye ha'e nae 
 objection 1 " 
 
 " Me ! " said the meek little mother ; " oh no." 
 Then she added, " Sae lang as ISTellie's happy." 
 
 A long pause followed, and then ISTellie started
 
 212 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 afresh. " Walter was thinkin' we sud be mairret at 
 the New Year." 
 
 " Sae sune's that ! " ejaculated the mother, in some 
 dismay. 
 
 " It's because he's gotten a hoose," explained her 
 daughter, naively ; " it's been empty sin' May, and 
 the rent's doun, an' sae he tuk it ; an'," she added, 
 rather ashamed to have gone so far in their plans 
 without her mother's knowledge, "we were aye 
 meanin' to tell you." 
 
 Mrs Davidson was not given to upbraiding, and 
 she made no complaint of their silence, only it went 
 to her heart with a little pang, that Nellie's " we " no 
 longer included her mother. 
 
 " I'll be wae to lose ye, NeUie," she said, with a 
 flickering smile, and in rather a tremulous tone ; " but 
 ni no' stan' in yer way." 
 
 Nellie's heart smote her. She crossed to her 
 mother's side, and kneeling by her chair, gave her 
 an affectionate kiss. " Ye'U no lose me, but ye'll 
 ha'e a new son to cheer ye. Walter," with a 
 glance of appeal to him, " wad like to be a guid 
 son to ye." 
 
 Tears were in the widow's eyes, but her shyness in 
 the presence of a stranger kept her silent ; and after 
 another pause, Walter rose and bade them good 
 night. 
 
 " Haste ye back, then," said IMrs Davidson, hos- 
 pitably. Nellie went with him out to the door.
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 213 
 
 ■where, after a few lovers' last words, they parted. 
 He took his way through the darkness, whistling 
 some of his favourite airs, and seeing again in 
 memory !N'ellie's bright face and pleasant home. 
 
 NeUie went back to the kitchen, and took up her 
 work again, thinking what she would say. She felt 
 that her mother had reason to be hurt ; and an un- 
 usual tenderness when she thought of their parting 
 so soon filled her with compunction and anxiety to 
 make up for the pain her silence had caused. She 
 waited, puzzled how to begin, and then, seeing that 
 her mother felt an even greater difficulty in speak- 
 ing, she rose, folded her work, and put it away with 
 elaborate care, blew out the candle she no longer 
 required, and came and stood by the fire, leaning 
 her arm on the mantelshelf, and resting her face on 
 her hand in the shadow. 
 
 " Mither, I see 'at yer vexed 'at I didna tell ye 
 suner ; but it's no' very lang sin' I kenned mysel' — 
 and I'm sorry I didna speak." 
 
 " It disna maitter noo," said the gentle little 
 woman, unused for long to have her authoritative 
 and rather self-willed daughter apologise to her. 
 
 " I thocht ye wadna unnerstaun'," continued 
 E'ellie, " an' I didna want fouk tae be claiverin' 
 and makin' clashes aboot us." 
 
 " Ay," said her mother, " I ken ye wadna like 
 fouk speakin' aboot ye ; but ye micht hae telt me. 
 I'm no' ane that wad niak speaks ; an' as for unner-
 
 214 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 staun'in'," she continued, gaining confidence as she 
 relieved her mind — " ye dinna think, jSTellie, that 
 naebody kens what luve is but you an' Walter 1 Yer 
 puir faither " — and her voice broke in a little sob — 
 " was as likely a lad as that in his day, though ye 
 canna mind on it ; and we lo'ed ane anither sair. Eh ! 
 what I hae lost ! " 
 
 Nellie, with a pang of sympathy, watched in the 
 firelight the slow tears making their Avay down her 
 mother's worn cheeks. Here had been a love as great 
 as that which filled her and absorbed all her thoughts. 
 " mither ! " she cried, remorsefully, " I lo'e ye ; 
 dinna greet. I micht ha'e kent ye wad unnerstan', 
 if I hadna been jist sae taken np wi' mysel'." And 
 the two embraced and were at one again. They 
 talked long that night — J^ellie volunteering confi- 
 dences about Walter, and planning with her mother 
 the furnishing of the little house, in which she 
 mentally saw herself keeping it all right and 
 pretty. 
 
 " I'll gie ye my reid gerannum," said her mother, 
 on hearing that the kitchen would have a window to 
 the sun. 
 
 " That'll be fine, mither," said ISTellle, gratefully — 
 adding, " but Avhat'll ye dae wantin' it 1 " 
 
 "Oh, I'll dae fine; Avhat'll I dae wantin' you?" 
 she answered, in a tone that strove in vain to sound 
 pkiyful — "that's mair than a gerannum." 
 
 They put their arms round each other in the little
 
 AX ELIE EUBY. 215 
 
 iDox-bed they shared together, and the mother's heart 
 was comforted with the sense of her child's love, 
 which K'ellie demonstrated all the more because of an 
 ashamed consciousness that her mother's love was not 
 now so needful to her happiness, since it was to 
 Walter that all her longings for affection turned. 
 
 " Walter's mither's no' like you," she said, with a 
 final caress. 
 
 " Does she no' ken yet 1 " asked Mrs Davidson. 
 
 " Na, he said he wadna tell her ; he wad jist leave 
 her to fin' cot for hersel'," said ISTellie, in a sleepy tone. 
 
 " Puir thing ! " murmured her mother softly, and 
 then there was silence, and they slept. 
 
 The next few weeks passed quickly, in happy pre- 
 parations for the wedding, and Mrs Davidson got a 
 lift in a cart "going east," as they called it, with 
 Scotch exactitude, to St Monans, to see the little 
 house. Walter intrusted them with five pounds he 
 had saved from his wages, and this was laid out 
 with much thought and care to the best advantage. 
 Nellie's clever fingers were busy shaping and stitch- 
 ing her modest little outfit ; and the minister, when 
 Walter presented himself shamefaced and blushing 
 one evening to ask "if it would be convenient " to 
 him to marry them at the New Year, took much 
 kindly interest in their plans, and called next day at 
 the Toft to bestow upon Nellie a family Bible, as 
 part of the plenishing she should take with her to her 
 husband's house.
 
 216 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 They were " cried " in church, N"ellie was duly 
 rallied by her acquaintance on having kept her love- 
 affair so close, and bore their teasing and criticisms 
 more good-naturedly than she had thought would be 
 possible. After all, how little it mattered what they 
 thought or said. Like most sensitive people, she liad 
 dwelt in anticipation on what she dreaded in the way 
 of neighbourly comment and gossip, until her expec- 
 tations went far beyond the actual result. 
 
 The wedding Avas fixed for J^ew Year's Day— a 
 Thursday — and on the previous Tuesday night 
 Walter was to pay them a final visit at the Toft, and 
 help them to decide whether two o'clock or five 
 would be the best hour for the marriage. The old 
 minister had given them their choice, having an en- 
 gagement between these hours. Mrs Davidson in- 
 clined to five, as two would be " some early " for the 
 tea which tliey were going to provide for the few 
 friends they had invited to be present. 
 
 Walter sent a message, much to JSTeUie's disappoint- 
 ment, on Tuesday afternoon, that he could not come, 
 but would meet her at the Lady's Tower next morn- 
 ing at ten o'clock, and hear what they had settled. 
 Either hour would do for him, he said, 
 
 Wednesday morning Avas duU and cold, Avith a 
 breathless absence of Avind. Xellie Avrapped herself 
 warmly in a thick shaAvl, and took her Avay SAviftly 
 along the links to the trysting-place. The short, 
 close, faded grass Avas crisp under foot Avith hoar-
 
 AX ELIE RUBY. 217 
 
 frost, and the grey sky and sea were very unlike 
 those she remembered on that far-away summer after- 
 noon when she had taken the same road, and gath- 
 ered cowslips, and met Walter. "What a child she 
 seemed to have been then, as she recalled the scene, 
 and Avondered at the J^ellie who had tried to hide 
 from him, and had been so unwilling to confess her 
 love. 
 
 ll^'ow as she reached the ruined tower, standing on 
 a high rocky promontory running out into the sea, 
 she Avent to one of its lancet-shaped windows looking 
 toAvards St Monans, to Avatch for her lover. These 
 four AvindoAVS, Avith the entrance and a fireplace, filled 
 the six sides of the picturesque toAver — built long ago 
 for the pleasure of some fair lady, and still, though 
 roofless and ruined, seeming haunted by romantic 
 fancies. DoAvn below the two windoAvs Avhich looked 
 southwards the rocks descended in broken heaps to 
 the sea, Avhich had Avorked for itself deep and sinu- 
 ous channels among their tumbled masses ; and as 
 Nellie Avaited she could hear the gurgling sound made 
 by each Avave flooding in and filling the creeks, float- 
 ing up the thick broAvn sea-weeds, and overfloAving 
 the little black pools, only to ebb away as rapidly, 
 sucking the shining coils of tangle doAvn in the re- 
 ceding sAvirl of the water. 
 
 Soon she saAv Walter commg. It Avas not ten 
 o'clock yet, and he was taking it easy — sauntering 
 along Avith his hands m his pockets and whistling
 
 218 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 "The Flowers o' the Forest," with soft flute-notes 
 like a blackbird. As he rose to the knoll on a level 
 with the tower he stood and looked towards Elie. 
 " Watching for me," thought ISTellie, proudly. Then 
 slowly resuming the mournful closing bars of the air, 
 he turned to enter the tower. 
 
 "That's ower sad a sang," cried ]S'ellie, spring- 
 ing forward to meet him ; and as he threw his arms 
 round her she asked v/hat had kept him the night 
 before. 
 
 "I thocht ye wad wunner," said Walter easily, 
 drawing her to the wide ledge of one of the seaward 
 Avindows, in which they both seated themselves, his 
 arm round NeUie, and her head leant back on his 
 shoulder, and resting against his thick brown beard. 
 
 "Weel, what was't?" she repeated, looking up at 
 him as she spoke. 
 
 He looked at her fondly. "Ye're sae bonnie, 
 Nellie, I forget the very words I was gaun to say 
 when I see ye. Weel, it was jist this. Did ye 
 no' think I wad need a ring tae niairry ye wi' the 
 morn 1 " 
 
 "I didna mind on't," she replied, simply; and 
 then suddenly recollecting, she turned to face him. 
 " Was't that ye socht thon ruby for, then 1 " 
 
 "Ye'll see for yersel'," he replied; and drawing 
 from his pocket a twist of paper, he gave it to her 
 to open. 
 
 She unfolded it hurriedly. There lay a little silver
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 219 
 
 ring set with the ruby, somewhat roughly cut, pol- 
 ished, and sunk in a heart-shaped setting. 
 
 Kellie's eyes shone with pleasure, " It's awfu' 
 bonnie," she said. " I never saw ane like it ; it's the 
 bonniest ring I ever saw. Was that what ye wanted 
 it for 1 I thocht it was for a preen for yersel' by the 
 w'y ye spoke. Whae made it, Walter ? Eh ! it's 
 been awfu' dear, I misdoubt ! " 
 
 Walter laughed. " JSTo' sae dear as you, onyw'y. 
 Was't no' Solomon 'at said, ' A gude wife's far abune 
 rubies"? Weel, I got a man in Anster to mak' it, 
 an' that was what keepit me. I had tauld him I'd 
 come for it the day ; and then auld Laing," he con- 
 tinued, looking rather anxiously at ISTellie, who was 
 playing with the ring, " said we wad need to gang 
 oot the nicht, and so I gaed to Anster yestreen. I 
 was feared it wad no' be ready ; but there it was for 
 me." 
 
 ISTellie's face had clouded. " Gaun oot the nicht 1 
 Walter ! dinna gang ; ye said to me ye wadna. 
 It'll come a storm, or you'll be hinnert some Av'y. 
 Oh, dinna, Walter ! " 
 
 Walter stooped and kissed the sweet pleading lips. 
 " I maun gang," he said. " It's gaun to be a calm 
 nicht j there's nae sign o' wind. I wuss we may 
 hae aneuch to tak' us oot ; and there's sae few boats 
 gaun. Watson's folk said they wad gie us guid 
 prices a' this week for a' the fish we catched, an' I 
 wadna like auld Laing to lose for me. They canna
 
 220 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 gang wi'oot nie, an' they winna ask me to gang the 
 morn, I ken that." 
 
 Ifellie sighed. 
 
 " Ye'll no' do for a fisherman's wife if ye gang on 
 that gait," said Walter, cheerily. "What are ye 
 feared for? The sea like a deuk-pond, an' me that 
 ha'e heen oot in a' kin' o' weather, an' never drooned 
 yet ! " 
 
 Nellie laughed with him at her fears, and then 
 sighed again. 
 
 " I'll ha'e to gang noo," said Walter, rising. " We 
 maun be oot wi' the tide, and that's at twal' o'clock. 
 I'll no' see ye till the morn, Nellie ; an' than ye'll 
 be sae braw, I mayna ken ye," he added, fondly. 
 
 " Weel, here's the ring ; I'll ha'e aneuch o' it the 
 morn," said Nellie, blushing and smiling as she met 
 the love in his look. " The fouk are bidden at five," 
 she continued, — "and dinna you be late, Walter. 
 Oh, I wuss ye werena gaun to sea the day. AVhan 
 will ye get in, div ye think 1 " 
 
 "Some time the nicht, I sud say," said Walter. 
 " We're gaun oot ayont the IMay, jist roon' by the 
 ither side o't, an' we'll win hame or the neist tide 
 turns. It cudna blaw the day," he added, with a 
 careless glance at the clouds ; " there's nae airt for 
 the win' to come frae ; it's mair like snaw." 
 
 " I wuss ye hadna to gang oot in winter," said 
 NeUie. 
 
 "Weel, ye needna mairry me unless ye like,"
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 221 
 
 said he, smiling; and then with many kisses they 
 parted. He to stride with long slouching gait along 
 the shore to St Monans ; and N'ellie, hooded in her 
 red shawl, took the path along the links to the Elie. 
 They both turned at the same moment, while still 
 within sight of each other, and Walter waved his 
 cap and stood a moment, as if he wanted a long look 
 to remember her by until the morrow. Then they 
 went on their separate ways. 
 
 Nellie's thoughts were busy over the preparations 
 for her wedding. That afternoon Jamie Morrison's 
 cart was to come for her things ; and Lizzie Laing, 
 whose husband was in the boat with AValter, had the 
 key of the house, and was to have on a fire, and 
 make ready for them next day. 
 
 When she got home she found her motlier care- 
 fully tying up the red geranium in a frame of sticks, 
 and covering it with an old apron. 
 
 "I canna think the frost 'ill touch it noo," she 
 said; "but I'se hand it on my knee for fear." 
 
 " I think I'll gang up to the minister's noo," re- 
 marked Nellie. " I'll no' be a meenit. I'll say 'at yer 
 muckle obleeged to him, and five o'clock wull dae 
 very weeL" 
 
 She closed the cottage door behind her and took 
 her way to the minister's. His house was one of a 
 row of buildings, aU of different heights and sizes, 
 skirting the shore of the pretty curving bay; only 
 the street, in some places paved, in others rough and
 
 •222 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD 
 
 jj 
 
 
 o 
 
 uneven, witli a little fringe of gardens on its further 
 side, separated these houses from the sea. Here and 
 there a house, seemingly more adventurous than its 
 neighbours, had forsaken the rest, and taken its place 
 boldly among the gardens, sharing with them the 
 salt breezes and sand-drifts, and the showers of spray 
 Avhich a high tide or a storm sent over them. One 
 garden, belonging to an old sea-captain, had a flag- 
 staff rising from its little grass plot; and here the 
 Union-jack fluttered gallantly forth on all occasions, 
 sreat and small. Another — that of a house over the 
 way occupied by two old ladies — had a little wooden 
 arbour in one corner, made green by a hardy privet- 
 bush on one side, and gay on the other for a few 
 weeks in summer Avith short-lived annuals. At 
 each side of the tidy little gate was planted — one 
 can hardly say grew — a shivering young tree. These 
 trees had to be renewed from time to time, and dur- 
 ing their tenancy of the garden never made any pro- 
 gress, but despaired, and were ready to die from the 
 very first. But the ladies did not despair. "It 
 gives the place a cared-for look," they said, and per- 
 severed in planting. 
 
 'Next to this garden came the minister's. It had 
 two fairly-grown sycamores in it, " quite forest-trees," 
 said the old ladies pensively ; " but then, you know, 
 they have been in for years." On either side of the 
 paved path from the gate to the sea-wall was a broad 
 border of carnations, clove-pinks, and picotees. Their
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 223 
 
 silver clumps were of course flowerless now ; but in 
 summer and autumn they were the glory of the 
 street. The minister was very proud of them — 
 not a season passed without his adding to their 
 number; and in the summer evenings he used 
 to sit on the comfortable bench which stood in a 
 sheltered corner facing west, with his telescope beside 
 him, and the newspapers across his knee, chatting 
 with his gardener Andrew, " the minister's man," and 
 general factotum. 
 
 At this season the borders were bare of bloom, and 
 only a few shrivelled seed-pods rattled when a breeze 
 shook them. J^ellie passed the large bow-window of 
 the study, within which, bending over some books, 
 she could see the white head of the good old man. 
 She ran up the spotless doorsteps, and rang the 
 bell. 
 
 A very trim and staid maid-servant opened the 
 door to her, with a smile of recognition, and led the 
 Avay along a little passage and down a few steps to 
 the study door. " Come in," said the minister, in 
 answer to her knock, and Nellie was ushered into the 
 warm, comfortable room. 
 
 "Please, Mr Lumsden," she said, shyly, "mither 
 sent me to say 'at she was muckle obleeged for yer 
 kind message, an' if you pleased, five o'clock to-morrow 
 efternoon wad suit very weel." 
 
 "Five o'clock be it then, Xellie," was the hearty 
 response ; " and how are you 1 and how is your mother
 
 224 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 keeping? — well and hearty for lier duties to-morrow, 
 eh?" 
 
 JS'ellie murmured a reply, and was turning to go, 
 hut he stopped her, and Avith a few kindly inquiries 
 about Walter, and their future home and plans, he 
 skilfully led the way to more personal talk. 
 
 ]Mr Lumsden had seen Nellie several times of late, 
 but never alone ; and he was too wise to expect her 
 to speak of her inmost feelings before others. "We 
 can neither be nor express our true selves in mixed 
 company. But Avith one Avho is wise and under- 
 stands, gradually, like the sensitive plant, we unfold, 
 we expand, we show our inmost nature. So Nellie, 
 under the kindly questions of the minister, forgot her 
 shyness and reserve, and spoke of her desires to "be 
 good," as she plirased it, and to serve God in her new 
 home. She drank in eagerly the tender counsels of 
 the old man, and determined to practise from the 
 very outset the unselfishness and the patience which, 
 he said, Avere so specially called for in married life. 
 When ho Avarned her against hasty speech, she re- 
 solved that nothing should tempt her to unkind 
 Avords. And Avhcn he Avent on to praise Walter, and 
 Avith pleasant aj^preciation to refer to the many good 
 points he saAV in his character, and to the Avays in 
 Avhich Xellie could help and strengthen him, she 
 smiled in lus face Avith tear-filled grateful eyes. 
 "I ^oiill mind that," she said, earnestly. He rose 
 to his full height, and laid his hand on her fair
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 225 
 
 head iu fatherly benediction before he sent her 
 away. 
 
 "And mind, Xellie," he said, "you must not be 
 afraid or shy about coming to me in any difficulty or 
 trouble, when you think I might help you, even if it 
 is just to have the comfort of telling me anything 
 that is on your mind making you anxious. I am 
 always glad to see any one who wants me, — that is 
 just what I am here for." 
 
 !N^ellie thanked him, and dried the tears which had 
 brimmed over and lay like dewdrops on her flushed 
 cheeks. The minister opened the study door, and 
 stood courteously aside to let her precede him, 
 following her up the little stair. As they passed 
 through the hall, he glanced at the long old-fashioned 
 weather-glass hanging there. " Dear me ! " he ex- 
 claimed, " what does this mean 1 The glass has been 
 going down, down, down all morning, and now it's 
 lower than I've ever seen it in my life ! You that 
 are to be a fisherman's wife, JS'ellie," he added, 
 reaching down a soft felt hat from a peg as he spoke, 
 and flinging a long plaid round his shoulders, " you'll 
 be studying the Markie, as they call it, with the 
 wisest of them before long." He opened the house 
 door, and they went out together. " My way lies 
 past the Toft," he said ; "I must go and see what the 
 coast-guard have to say to the weather. Is that the 
 drum hoisted at the pier-head 1 Your eyes are better 
 than mine." 
 
 T.s. — I. p
 
 226 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 "No," said ISTellie, looking over to the flagstaff 
 which marked the coast-guard station at the end of 
 the pier, " I dinna see it." She walked fast, to keep 
 pace with his big strides, and looked at him anxiously. 
 " Is't gaun to be a storm, Mr Lumsden, do ye 
 think r' 
 
 " I cannot say," he replied ; " it does not look like 
 it yet — that's not a windy sky," and he paused a 
 moment to look at it. " But the glass is very signi- 
 ficant, and not likely to go wrong." 
 
 ISTellie did not quite catch the drift of his words, 
 but her heart sank within her. 
 
 " You keep Walter on shore anyway for a day or 
 two," said IVIr Lumsden, cheerily, " and let the glass 
 behave as it likes." 
 
 " But I canna keep him," cried poor Nellie ; " he's 
 gaun oot at twalve o'clock, he said ; they were to tak' 
 the turn o' the tide." 
 
 Mr Lumsden glanced at the beach. The dull grey 
 wavelets had almost reached the twisted fringe of 
 sea-weed lying on the sand at high-water mark. 
 There was no time to interfere. 
 
 " Oh, well," he said, " I think you may trust them 
 to know what they are about. We landsmen are 
 very ready to croak and prophesy. Walter is in old 
 James Laing's boat, isn't he 1 " 
 
 " Yes," replied jSTeUie. 
 
 "Well, then, you may be sure they know their 
 own business, and they would not be such fools as to
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 227 
 
 go out if a storm was brewing. Keep a good heart, 
 Kellie. They never go far out for white fish just 
 now ; they can turn if the wind gets up." 
 
 " They're jist going ayont the May," said JSTellie, 
 cheered already by his kindly tone ; " and they sud 
 be in or nicht, "Walter tauld me." 
 
 " Oh, then, they're safe enough," said Mr Lumsden ; 
 " the sea doesn't get up all at once on a dull day like 
 this." 
 
 They had reached the Toft, and he bade Nellie 
 good-bye as she turned up the brae to her mother's 
 cottage. Mrs Dunsire, one of the neighbours, was 
 out feediug her hens, and Mr Lumsden stopped to 
 greet her and ask for her husband. " He's awa' to 
 the fishin'," she said ; " they're gettin' an awfu' price 
 frae the curers this week. They're sendin' them a' 
 south to Lunnun, they telt Andra. Ay, it's weel for 
 the like o' huz ; but oh ! it'll no' last lang, — that's 
 aye the w'y o't. Ae week ye'll get yer ain price for 
 the askin', and the neist ye micht as weel no' gang 
 oot ava, for a' they gie ye. Mony's the time," she 
 continued, warming to the subject, " I ha'e vrocht, 
 early and late, up an' doon, wi' lines tae clean and tae 
 bait and tae set, an' Andra up an' awa' i' the cauld 
 dark mornin's, — an' a' for naething. ' Ye'd ha'e dune 
 better to ha'e stayed at hame in your bed,' I say to 
 him whiles ; and 'deed it's true." 
 
 Mr Lumsden listened patiently till she paused for 
 breath, and then took flight, for slie was a great talker.
 
 228 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 '• Are all the Elie boats out? "he asked, as he went on. 
 
 " Ay, they were a' out wi' the first tide, a' but 
 John Tamson's," she called after him ; " he's doon 
 wi' the reumaticks." 
 
 ]\Ir Lumsden looked at his watch, it wanted barely 
 half an hour till the tide would be full. If the St 
 ]\Ionans boats were all going out now, there was a 
 chance that the Laings might be among the last, and 
 if he walked fast he might get there in time to see 
 AV alter and stop him, as he felt strangely impelled to do. 
 
 He stood a moment at the corner where the foot- 
 path by the links to St Monans branched off from the 
 road, which, carried a few hundred yards further 
 along a rocky promontory, ended in the Elie quay 
 with its curving breakwater. He looked at the flag- 
 staff in the trim coast-guard enclosure which crowned 
 the height above the pier ; and at that moment, as he 
 looked, two men came out of the quarters, and in a 
 leisurely manner proceeded to run up the storm-signal 
 — the cone pointing downwards to signify a gale from 
 the south. 
 
 This decided Mr Lumsden. Flinging his long 
 plaid more closely over his broad shoulders, he set 
 out at a rapid Avalk towards St Monans, scanning the 
 dim sea-line as he went for any sign of the Elie boats 
 returning, but none were to be seen. As he topped 
 the highest part of the links between the two little 
 villages, he could see the harbour of St l^Ionans. A 
 boat was slowly coming out : her dark sail, hauled up
 
 AN ELIE KUBY. 229 
 
 with irregular jerks, hung for a moment in heavy folds, 
 then filled out gently in the breeze, and with the 
 easy curving motion of a conscious creature, she 
 cleared the rocks by the harbour-mouth and headed 
 down the Firth. The bows of another boat followed 
 closely in her wake, and Mr Lumsden could hear, in 
 the still winter air, her crew running along the deck 
 and hauling up the sail. 
 
 There was no time to lose, and he quickened his 
 pace. The footpath led round the little churchyard, 
 with its worn and broken gravestones, some almost 
 hidden in the tufted grass. Among them stood the 
 little old church, with its dwarfed square tower and 
 belfry pointed like a witch's hat. The footpath 
 ended abruptly on the back of a little burn, which 
 ran down past the churchyard and out at the back of 
 the harbour. Mr Lumsden stepped across the broad 
 smooth stepping-stones, and took his way over the 
 worn grass on the further side, where in summer 
 mothers washed and gossiped, and children played. 
 Beyond the grass was the narrow roughly paved main 
 street of the village, running steeply down to the 
 harbour. Strong smells of brine and fish, with nets 
 and baskets standing about, rows of split and half- 
 dried haddocks hanging from little sticks outside the 
 cottage doors, and the piled-up rows of barrels inside 
 the open gates of a curing-yard, all proclaimed the 
 sole industry of the place. As Mr Lumsden stumbled 
 down the steep little street, and came out among the
 
 230 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 group of wives and old men standing about on the 
 quay, a cheer rose from the boats in the mouth of 
 the harbour. Sympathetic smiles broke out on the 
 weather-beaten faces round him. " Hear till them ! " 
 cried one pale-faced woman Avith a baby in her arms. 
 " They're cheerin' Wattie Lindsay," said another, in 
 good-natured explanation to the new-comer, whom they 
 all knew well by sight ; " he's gaun to be niauTet 
 the morn, an' he's gotten a siller heukie for luck." 
 
 " Then Laing's boat is not out yet 1 " said the 
 minister. 
 
 " She's jist gaun," piped a shrill-voiced, barefooted 
 boy, who came running along the broad harbour- wall ; 
 " thon's her sail gaun up noo." He picked up the 
 rope he had been sent for, and pattered back again. 
 Mr Lumsden followed along the quay. The Laings' 
 boat was just moving out; two of them — strong, 
 handsome young men — were hauling up the sail ; old 
 Jamie stood at the helm ; and Mr Lumsden recog- 
 nised Walter Lindsay poling the boat off the harbour- 
 wall, with the help of a boy. As the tall and majestic 
 form of the old minister appeared, towering head and 
 shoulders above the surrounding fishermen — well- 
 grown men though they were — caps were pulled re- 
 spectfully, and there Avas a murmured greeting in an- 
 swer to his genial " Good day to you all. " Walter stop- 
 ped pushing, and rested the end of his oar on the quay. 
 
 " Are you going far out, Jamie '? " called Mr 
 Lumsden, addressing the old fisherman. " The glass
 
 AN ELIE KUBY. 231 
 
 is very low ; and the dram was hoisted at the EHe 
 pier as I came along." 
 
 " IS'a, we're nae gaun far," said old Laing slowly ; 
 " we'll be in afore the storm : there's nae sign o' it 
 yet, as far as I see." He was a little inclined to re- 
 sent weather-warnings from any landsman. 
 
 Under cover of the noise and bustle in the next 
 boat, whose ballast was being shifted, Mr Lumsden 
 spoke to "Walter. " I wish I could persuade you to 
 stay at home, Lindsay," he said, earnestly. " I have 
 never in forty years seen the glass so low. If you 
 are caught in a storm, you may have to run up the 
 Firth j and what will K"ellie Davidson say if you 
 don't turn up to-morrow 1 " 
 
 Walter smiled. " I'm muckle obleeged till ye," he 
 said, " for tellin' us ; but I maun gang wi' the rest : 
 Eobbie Laing's ill, and they canna dae wantin' me, 
 We'se be hame the nicht, never fear." 
 
 " Koo then ! what's keepin' ye ? " called the men 
 from the boat behind. 
 
 " Push her afF, Wattie ! " shouted old Laing. 
 
 Mr Lumsden saw further remonstrance was useless. 
 The Bonnie Jean moved slowly along by the quay, 
 with a final shove off from Walter's oar ; the ropes 
 rattled in a coil on the deck ; and the pulley creaked 
 as they hoisted the big, flapping sail — and she stood 
 ovit to sea. 
 
 Mr Lumsden took off his hat with a gesture of 
 farewell, as he stood watching them. A glint of sun-
 
 232 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 shine broke through the hazy sky, and shone on his 
 snow-white hair and beard ; his deep-set brown eyes 
 watched the boat with an air of abstraction ; then he 
 entered into friendly chat with an old fisherman 
 standing by. This man had also noticed the sudden 
 fall in the barometer, and " didna ken what to mak' 
 o' it. I saw ye thocht au.ld Laing wad be better to 
 bide at hame," he remarked ; " but 'deed, sir, ye 
 micht as weel gie an advice to the sea — he'll no' tak' 
 a word frae onybody, great or sma'." 
 
 Mr Lumsden accepted this consolation as it was 
 meant. " Well, I could hardly expect him to take it 
 from me," he said, laughing. " He might say he had 
 as much right to meddle with my sermons as I have 
 with his fishhig." The old fisherman laughed too ; 
 and the minister took his way homewards. 
 
 More than once as he walked along a puff of wind 
 blew sharply against his face and ran in ruffling cat's- 
 paws over the leaden surface of the sea, then died 
 away ; the sun faded from a watery white disk to a 
 mere undefined brightness in the sky, and then was 
 lost altogether in woolly grey masses of clouds, and 
 the air grew increasingly chill, with that penetrating 
 cold often observable before snoAv. 
 
 As Mr Lumsden passed the Toft he saw Jamie 
 Morrison's cart at the Davidsons' door, and Jamie, 
 with the Avidow and Xellie, were actively at Avork 
 stowing aAvay all the latter's belongings for the 
 journey to St Monans. As everything Avas packed
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 233 
 
 in, and Mvs Davidson came to the door in her bonnet 
 and shawl with the precious red geranium in her 
 arms, its few remaining blooms carefully screened 
 from the weather, one slow wandering flake of snow 
 alighting on her shawl, followed by another and 
 another, made her look up at the sky. 
 
 " It's gaun to snaw, Jamie t " she said, hesitating. 
 
 " Weel, I ken that," said the old man. " It'll dae 
 nae hairm for a' the time we'll be. You get in, an' 
 I'se draw the tarpaulin' up roon' ye." 
 
 But NeUie, who had come out with a chair for her 
 mother's use in mounting the cart, was not satisfied. 
 
 " Ye'll get yer death o' cauld, mither," she said, de- 
 cidedly. " Ye better no' gang. I'll gang wi' Jamie, 
 and we'U jist pit in the things an' come awa, if it's 
 still snawin', and you bide at hame." 
 
 Mrs Davidson was in the habit of letting NeUie 
 decide for her ; and as the snow fell thicker and 
 faster every moment in large fleecy flakes, she let her- 
 self be persuaded, and went indoors. 
 
 " I'll keep the gerannum," she said, " an' it'll gae 
 whan I gae." 
 
 JS'eUie, well wrapt up, mounted the cart beside old 
 Jamie. They started, and were soon lost to view in 
 the dancing dazzling whirl of snow. 
 
 It was dark, and in the cottage the kettle was 
 singing over a bright fire, before Mrs Davidson, after 
 many fruitless journeys to the window, saw her 
 daughter's whitened figure commg up from the road.
 
 234 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " Eh, sic a nicht ! " said Xellie, stamping the snow 
 from her shoes and shaking it off her shawl before 
 she entered. " It's come on to blaw terrible, and 
 I'm near perished." 
 
 She bent over the fire, and the flickering light 
 played on her hair and her bright blue eyes, large 
 and shining after her bracing walk. 
 
 " I left the cairt at the toll-gate," she explained, 
 " no' to bring him oot o's way. 
 
 " Are a' the boats come in 1 " she asked suddenly, 
 after a panse. 
 
 " Ay," said the mother, who was going to and fro 
 setting the tea. " Mary Dunsire was in an hour syne ; 
 they were a' in thegither." She checked herself as 
 if she would have said more. 
 
 " What was't ? " asked Nellie, sharply. " Did she 
 tell ye onything mair 1 " 
 
 " iNTaething," said the mother, evasively. " She 
 Avasna but a meenit." 
 
 Nellie asked no more. She was very silent all tea- 
 time ; and when her mother would not let her wash the 
 dishes, saying she must be tired, she made the excuse 
 of some trifling errand to go in to the Dunsires' end 
 of the house. Her mother said nothing to prevent her. 
 " Her mind's jist rimnin' on Walter," she thought to 
 herself. " Weel, I wuss we kent he was hame." 
 
 NeUie knocked at the Dunsires' door. Mrs Dun- 
 sire called, "AATiae's thatl come in," and opened the 
 door simultaneously.
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 235 
 
 She had a big rosy baby in her arms, and three 
 older children were playing noisily on the floor. 
 Nellie was so little in the habit of paying uncere- 
 monious visits, that her neighbour stared to see her. 
 
 " Nellie Davidson ! it's you, is't 1 Come awa' ben ; 
 I suppose we'll no see much mair o' ye efter to- 
 morra'." 
 
 Nellie stood hesitating. " Is Andra hame 1 " she 
 asked, shyly. 
 
 " That is he," said his wife, triumphantly, " an' 
 nae ower sune, either. It's jist an awfu' nicht, 
 snawin' an' blawin' ; his claes were near frozen wi' 
 the wat an' the cauld. But come ben ; it's cauld 
 stan'in'," she added, with a touch of impatience. 
 
 Nellie mechanically stepped into the room, and 
 pushed the door shut. 
 
 " I wunner," she began in a choking voice, " if he 
 saw ony o' the boats frae St Minins 1 " 
 
 Mrs Dunsire had stooped to separate two of the 
 children who were struggling for a coveted plaything, 
 the broken lid of a teapot. She took it away, shook 
 them impartially, and raised herself to answer Nellie, 
 whose question she had scarcely heard. 
 
 "Eh?" she cried, with kindly concern, when she 
 saw the distressed face of the yoxmg girl, "is't 
 Walter 1 He's no' oot, is he 1 " 
 
 Nellie nodded, unable to speak without crying. 
 
 " Eh, puir thing," said the woman, " nae doot but 
 ye're anxious. Eh, I wu^ss I hadna spoke ; but it's
 
 236 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 no' sic a bad nicht efter a'. I ha'e seen waur," 
 eager to efface the effect of her words ; " an' he wud 
 be hame afore dark. Andra ! " she called to her 
 husband, who sat close to the fire, his smouldering 
 pipe on one knee, half-asleep in the grateful warmth. 
 " Andra ! " repeated his wife, " here's Xellie Davidson, 
 askin' if the St Minins boats wad be in. Ye ken 
 her "Walter's in ane o' them. I said 'at they wad." 
 
 Andrew roused himself to comprehension, ""\^^lan 
 did they gang oot ? " he asked. 
 
 Mrs Du^nsire looked to l^ellie for an answer. 
 " They didna gang till twal'," she said, " an' I was 
 in St Minins this efternoon. I saw Easie Laing ; 
 she said they cudna be in suner than sax o'clock." 
 
 Mrs Dunsire glanced at the clock. "It wants 
 half an 'oor," she murmured. 
 
 Nellie's eyes were fixed on Andrew, hoping for 
 some comfort. 
 
 "If they arena in noo," he said bluntly, "they 
 canna get in the nicht ; the sea's verra rough by noo. 
 They wadna try St Minins wi' the tide rinnin', an' 
 sic a sea." 
 
 " Andra ! " said his wife, reproachfully, " ye 
 ken they're to be mairret to-morrow, an' he maun 
 get back." 
 
 "I canna help it, wumman," said her husband, 
 placidly ; then moved to pity by the anxious look 
 on Nellie's face, he added, " dinna tak' on, they'll rin 
 up the Firth nae doot — they'U male' some o' thae
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 237 
 
 harbours up a bit, Leven or Kinghom — there's nae 
 fear o' them." 
 
 The children's noise had almost drowned his words ; 
 and as one of them now began to scream lustily, Mrs 
 Dunsire turned to the rescue, and with a quiet " Guid 
 nicht, and thank ye," ISTellie let herself out and re- 
 turned to her mother. 
 
 All night the wind roared, and the sea rose higher 
 and higher. The moon was almost full, and when 
 Mr Lumsden looked out from his study window at 
 midnight, the clouds were driving across a clear sky, 
 the snow had ceased, and the moonlight shone over 
 a broad expanse of foaming broken water, as far as 
 the eye could see. Above the prolonged steady roar 
 of the wind he could hear the thud and crash of each 
 wave as it broke against the sloping sea-wall of the 
 garden, and the spray rose in sheets and was dashed 
 with a short ripping sound against the window-panes. 
 His thoughts were troubled. He knew no boat could 
 make St Monans or any of the harbours on that ex- 
 posed coast in such a wild sea. If Walter Lindsay 
 was not safe and in shelter long ago, where was 
 he 1 It was terrible to think of any boat, of human 
 lives, out yonder at the mercy of wind and wave. 
 The clock struck twelve — the old year passed into 
 the new, unheeded. The old minister's heart was 
 heavy with foreboding. That one life, in its bright 
 young happiness, should be crushed by so terrible a 
 sorrow — that another, so strong and stout-hearted.
 
 238 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 should perish in the very flower of youth — the dread, 
 the pity of it, filled him with trouble. In prayer, 
 which was not dictation, but an earnest cry for help, 
 he poured out his soul before God. 
 
 At the Toft, in her mother's cottage, held in her 
 mother's arms, Nellie Davidson lay awake hour after 
 hour through the long night. They had comforted 
 one another with hopes, surmises, conjectures, which 
 neither believed. J^ellie, sick at heart, had forced 
 herself to put the last stitches into her wedding-gown. 
 They looked out from tune to time at the raging 
 whiteness of the sea, and spoke louder as the in- 
 creasing roar of the wind drowned their voices, 
 " They'll ha'e rin up the Forth," said Nellie, at one 
 moment. " They wad get in afore dark, efter ye left 
 St Minins," her mother would say — each with an air of 
 conviction but poorly assumed. At length they had 
 gone to bed, and there in the dark Nellie burst into 
 tears. " My bairn, my bairn," said her mother ten- 
 derly, folding her in her arms, " Oh, dinna greet ; 
 ye maunna be feart ; they wad tak' shelter frae the 
 warst o' it. They micht ha'e gane in to Anster," 
 she said, with a sudden inspiration — Anstruther, or 
 Anster, as it is locally called, being the port on the 
 Fife coast nearest to the Isle of May, 
 
 Nellie caught at the suggestion. " I micht ha'e 
 thocht o' that ! " she said, in a tone of relief. Her 
 mother rejoiced silently in the comfort she had given, 
 and they talked for a time — reassuring themselves of
 
 AN ELIE RUBY, 239 
 
 Walter's safety, of old Jamie Laing's skill, of the 
 well-known seaworthiness of the Bonnie Jean. Then 
 the old woman's quiet regular breath showed that 
 she slept. But jSTellie could not sleep — the continual 
 thundering sound of the wind and sea wearied and 
 yet excited her to greater wakefulness. She sent her 
 thoughts out over the wild howling waste of water — 
 where, where was Walter 1 All her refuges of hope 
 failed her : she could not hide herself in them any 
 longer from the dread which encompassed her soul. 
 They would not go to Anster — they never did ; they 
 would be sure to make for St Monans. And oh, 
 these jagged black rocks! and the leaping hungry 
 waves ! She pictured them to lierseK with a shudder 
 as she lay in bed. Then, though old Jamie was a 
 good seaman — he was daring, she knew — he might 
 have ventured too far, not turned soon enough when 
 the storm came on. And the boat — oh, what mat- 
 tered it that she was a good boat, in such a night % — 
 hadn't the Welcome Home of St Monans been lost on 
 a night like this, five years ago, and she was a strong 
 new boat — KeUie remembered hearing that said — 
 yet aU her crew were lost. It seemed to be some 
 other mind through which these thoughts were pass- 
 ing. This could not be herself, Nellie ; she that had 
 been so happy, that was to be married on New-Year's 
 Day. Why, she thought, with a sudden pang of 
 remembrance, this was New Year's morning ! 
 
 Long before it was light she rose: she dressed
 
 240 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 quietly, and stole out ; the light at the pier-head was 
 still burning. There was a lull in the Avind. Hold- 
 ing her shawl about her — too wretched to feel the 
 intense cold of the dark early morning — she took the 
 road to the harbour. The tide was going out, but 
 the sea ran high ; and each great wave in succession 
 surged into the harbour, lifting the tossing boats that 
 were huddled together there, and racing along by the 
 embankment of the roadway, Avhich was whitened 
 both Avith drifted snow and quivering heaps of 
 foam. 
 
 K'ellie reached the corner of the pier, and paused 
 for a minute in the shelter of the big granary. She 
 Avas going forward to the extreme end of the jetty to 
 look out, if by any chance there should be a boat in 
 sight, Avhen a voice from the coast-guard station 
 hailed her. She turned and looked up. 
 
 " Don't go any further," shouted the man on watch 
 there ; " the Avaves are breaking over the pier every 
 minute. You might be carried off your feet. You 
 Avould be drenched through." 
 
 j^ellie recognised the voice as that of an English- 
 man belonging to the force. She turned in obedience 
 to the Avarning. 
 
 "The boats Avere all in last night," he added, 
 leaning on the little Avhite-painted paling and looking 
 down at her ; " they are all safe." 
 
 "Yes; I ken that," she said; adding timidly, "ye 
 dinna sec ony ither boats oot at sea noo, dae ye ? "
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 241 
 
 "]N"ot one," was the reply, "and I should be sorry 
 if I did ; they're far better out of sight in a night 
 like this, the further the better, till the sea goes 
 down." 
 
 As he spoke a huge wave rose high above the 
 breakwater, hung for a second, and crashed down in 
 a flood of streaming, churning, Avhite water, burying 
 both wall and causeway out of sight. iSTellie wearily 
 sighed and turned away. In the faint light the man 
 could not see her face, and he did not know her well 
 enough to recognise her voice. "Poor soul!" he 
 said, compassionately, as he watched her go slowly 
 home along the road. Then he resumed his watch, 
 pacing up and down the little green. 
 
 When iSTeUie got back to the cottage, she found 
 her mother awake and dressmg. The girl did not 
 speak, but sat listlessly down by the window; her 
 mother came and took her two hands in hers. 
 " jSTellie ! " she cried in a grieved tone, " whaur ha'e 
 ye been? Yer hauns are like ice." Nellie made no 
 reply, but gazed at her mother in speechless misery. 
 Mrs Davidson took off her shawl, led her like a child 
 to the warm bed, and made her lie down in it. 
 Pulling off her wet shoes and stockings, she rubbed 
 and chafed her feet until they began to get warm, 
 then she wrapped them in a shawl. She proceeded 
 to rub her hands until they also gained heat, and, 
 tucking in the warm bed-clothes well round the girl, 
 Avith a tender "Sleep, my lambie, sleep," Avent to 
 
 T.s. — I. Q
 
 242 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 kindle the fire. Nellie lay jjassive, haixUy seeming 
 aware of her mother's solicitude. She was worn out 
 with anxiety, and when Mrs Davidson, after setting 
 the room to rights, tilling the kettle, and sweeping 
 up the hearth, stepped lightly to the bed and bent 
 over her, she found that her poor child was really 
 sleeping. Thankful that she should have tliis respite, 
 and dreading every moment lest some noise might 
 chance to waken her, she sat down softly on a chair 
 by the bedside, leaning forward so as to shade IS'ellie's 
 eyes from the mcreasing daylight. The girl's face 
 grew calm and peaceful as her slumber deepened ; 
 she gave one or two restful sighs, and pushed her 
 left hand under her cheek, as was her habit at night. 
 " She's sattlcd noo ; she'll ha'e a guid sleep, puir 
 bairnie," said the mother, and then she turned her 
 thoughts to meet the events of the day. Surely 
 news must come soon. Walter himself might come, 
 guessing their anxiety ; and yet that seemed too 
 much to hope. As she mused — through the roar 
 of the wind which had risen again — the sound of 
 a footstep caught her ear ; it came past the window 
 as if to her door, and paused. Perhaps it was Walter 
 himself ! With a beating heart she rose and crept 
 noiselessly across the room. Yes : she could just see 
 the sleeve of his blue jersey as he stood at the cottage 
 door. Why did he not come in 1 Did he think it 
 was too early 1 Her fingers trembled as she opened 
 the door of the room, shutting it carefully behind
 
 AX ELIE EUBY. 243 
 
 her. Then she opened the house door. A fisherman 
 stood there, not Walter. She fancied, however, that 
 she knew his face. " Arena you ane o' the Laings 1 " 
 she asked. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "A son o' Jamie Laing's that Walter Lindsay sails 
 wi' ]" she persisted. 
 
 " Ay," he said hoarsely, nodding again. 
 
 "An' ye're a' safe ml" she cried. "Oh, thank 
 God ! Eut why did Walter no' come himsel' 1 Did 
 he send ye] I maun tell my Nellie," she went on, 
 hardly knowing what she said — rejoicing, and yet, 
 from something in his face, afraid to rejoice. 
 
 "Wait a meenit," he said, still hoarsely. " Dinna 
 tell her. I ha'e a message for ye, but I dinna want 
 her to hear." 
 
 "She's sleepin'," said the poor woman. "Oh! 
 what is't? it's no' bad news? Is it Walter? Oh, 
 what's come to him ] Oh, speak, canna ye 1 " 
 
 " Hoo can I tell ye 1 " groaned the young fisherman, 
 afraid as he saw her fear. " My faither sent me. 
 We were afraid ye niicht hear ony ither gait. Puir 
 Walter ! " He stopped. 
 
 Mrs Davidson caught his arm. "He isna 
 drooned 1 " she cried. " Oh, whisht ! We maunna 
 wake her. Tell me," she whispered piteously, — " he 
 isna drooned? He canna be, and you here." 
 
 The fisherman shook his head. " I wush it was 
 him that was here, and no' me," he said, earnestly.
 
 244 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 "We cnclna help it; Ave cudna save him. My 
 faith er's near oot o' his mind sin' it happened." 
 
 " Hoo was it 1 " she asked, trembling all over, and 
 tightening her hold on his arm. 
 
 " I dinna richtly ken yet," he said ; " it was a' 
 ower in a moment." And then he briefly told how, 
 after they had reached the fishing-ground, and had 
 begun to set their lines, the sky grew suddenly 
 dark, and, almost without warning, a sudden squall 
 struck the water and filled the air with a flurry of 
 snow. Unwilling to lose their lines, they had de- 
 layed a few minutes to take them in — the wind 
 increasing every moment with appalling fury. The 
 other boats had turned to run before it. They were 
 the last, and as they shifted their sail the wind 
 caught it and swung it round violently over the side, 
 knocking Walter overboard. Their own imminent 
 danger, until the sail was secured, kept them from 
 noticing at first what had happened, for no one had 
 seen him fall. They threw out an oar and a barrel, in 
 the hope of his rising to the surface ; but there Avas 
 no sign of him. The wind was tearing uj) the water 
 and driving the boat before it, so that they could not 
 stop themselves ; but they made a tack, and tried to 
 beat back again to the same place. Then they found 
 that, blinded by the snow, they had almost run on 
 an outlying reef of rocks at the east end of the Isle 
 of May ; and it being impossible to make head 
 against the Avind, they had sorroAvfully to give up
 
 AN ELIE RUBY, 245 
 
 hope and make for home. They had got in to St 
 Monans about half an hour later than the other boats, 
 shortly after dark. "There was an awfu' sea on," 
 said the young fisherman. "Kaebody but faither 
 cud ha'e done it. I thocht we were a' gane. We 
 jist cleared the rocks by a hand's-breidth." 
 
 Mrs Davidson hardly took in the end of his story. 
 Walter was lost, — that was all she clearly compre- 
 hended, — and what could be done for [Nellie 1 " You 
 gae roon'," she said, as he ceased, "an' tell the 
 Dunsires, an' say 'at N'ellie's had a weary, wakefu' 
 nicht, an' she's sleepin' noo ; if they wad keep the 
 bairns quiet. Say she disna ken yet." 
 
 He went to do her bidding, and the poor mother 
 re-entered the kitchen. I^ellie lay as quiet and 
 peaceful as a child — in deep, restful slumber. Oh, 
 how could she break such woful news 1 Pondering, 
 with an aching heart, she resolved to make her eat 
 some food first — and then, somehow, she must 
 gather courage and tell her — lest she should hear 
 it from any one else, who would be less tender with 
 her. 
 
 She set the breakfast things on the table, and 
 made some tea. The storm showed little sign of 
 abating, although the low winter sun shone out now 
 on the snow which was drifted on the window-sill, 
 and in every corner of the uneven ground between 
 the cottage and the road. "\"\Tien all her preparations 
 were made, she took her knitting, and sat down with
 
 246 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD."' 
 
 her back to tlie -windoAv, so that she could Avatch 
 her daughter. Her tears fell slowly, and she sighed 
 from time to time as she "worked, but her grief made 
 little outward sign. The old recognise trouble at 
 once when it comes to them ; its place, so to sjjeak, 
 is waiting in their hearts, its face familiar. It is the 
 young Avho fight against it as impossible — who will 
 allow it neither claim nor right — who greet it morning 
 by morning Avith reneAved unbelief. HaA'e you not 
 felt this in youth, Avhen death made his first inroad, 
 and robbed you of one Avho seemed part of your very 
 life 1 Days, Aveeks, months hardly sufficed to accus- 
 tom you to your bereaA^enient ; and if at any moment 
 you had been told — " It is all a mistake — your 
 beloved is not dead," — hoAv much easier that Avould 
 have been to believe than the bitter truth Time 
 kept silently reiterating 1 
 
 But Mrs Davidson AA^as no longer young. She had 
 found it true that sorroAv could assail her, could 
 penetrate, thief-like, to her inmost heart. Loss, 
 from seeming impossible, had become probable, in- 
 evitable, she thought to herself to-day, as she knitted 
 and Avatched by her unconscious child. 
 
 The morning Avore on. She looked out, sometimes 
 at the people passing along the road, — at a ship in 
 the harbour, Avhich Avas all dressed with flags to 
 greet the JN'eAv Year. They flew before the Avind, 
 and Avere bright and gay in the sunshine. Behind 
 them stretched the deep blue tossing Avater. All
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 247 
 
 over it, as far as she could see, as the waves topped 
 and broke, the wild wind caught them, and the whole 
 surface of the sea had a thin ragged veil of spray- 
 sweeping across it ; every now and then the sunshine 
 was caught in a rainbow on this silvery mist. The 
 worst of the storm seemed over — it would pass away. 
 But, ah ! what desolation it had wrought ! She 
 returned from the window to the bed. StUl jSTellie 
 slept. After waiting some time longer, the widow 
 took her own breakfast, knowing that, for her 
 daughter's sake, she must keep up her strength. 
 
 Then she went about the room moving the fi:rniture 
 quietly into, if possible, greater order. She could not 
 keep still. The geranium, carefully packed for the 
 journey yesterday, stood on the window-sill. " There's 
 nae need to tak' it ower noo," slie thought with an 
 aching heart, as she remembered the little house 
 Nellie had taken such pride in making ready, — that 
 now would never be her home. She unpinned and 
 folded away the apron she had so carefully fastened 
 round the plant, whose scarlet flowers seemed one 
 blur of colour before her tear-blinded eyes. Then 
 she looked round the room again. Ah ! there, on 
 the top of the chest of drawers, lay, carefully folded, 
 the wedding-dress, with a handkerchief spread lightly 
 to keep the dust from the dainty little frills of lace 
 adorning the neck and sleeves. Xellie had tried it 
 on two or three nights ago, — it seemed two or three 
 years, — and how pretty she had looked, and how
 
 248 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 happy she had been ! She must not see it now, 
 when she wakened ; and with trembling fingers the 
 poor woman lifted it do"\vn, so as not to alter the 
 folds, and drew out the lowest drawer in which to 
 hide it. But the drawer was old and fitted badly, 
 and the creak it made was sufiicient to waken I^ellie, 
 whose sleep, now that she Avas well rested, grew 
 lighter. She opened her eyes, wondering to find her- 
 self lying in bed, dressed, in broad day. In an in- 
 stant, however, the fear and trouble of the past night 
 flashed into her memory, confirmed by the thundering 
 of the sea and the wind. She saw her mother kneel- 
 ing by the open drawer, and putting in something. 
 Eaising herself on her elbow, she saw it was her 
 wedding-dress, and an imperative misgivuig seized 
 her heart and hurried her towards certainty. She 
 tried to speak, but her voice died in her throat ; the 
 drawer creaked again as it was shut. INIrs Davidson 
 rose and turned to the bed : their eyes met, and 
 Nellie read the truth in her mother's grief-^sATitten 
 face. 
 
 " It isna true, mither ! " she cried, with white lips ; 
 " dinna say it ! oh, dinna say it ! " 
 
 Her mother hurried to her, clasped her in her arms, 
 and they Avcpt together. 
 
 Day after day passed slowly by, and night after 
 night. NeUie kept within the cottage ; and in obedi- 
 ence to her entreaties, her mother let no one in to see 
 her — no one except Mr Lumsden, whom the poor
 
 AN ELIE RUBY. 249 
 
 child saw passing the house the day after her trouble 
 came upon her, to whom she sent a message by her 
 mother begging him to come. He came every day 
 after that, and sat with them for a while, often silent, 
 always showing tender sympatliy. The gentle pres- 
 sure of his hand on her bowed head — his few words 
 of strong trust in God's love, and pity for His children 
 — often gave her relief and comfort. She could 
 escape for a little out of herself and the darkness that 
 surrounded her, when he was there. 
 
 At other times she would sit for hours gazing from 
 the window at the still stormy, restless, mysterious 
 sea. With a pathetic gentleness new to her, she 
 watched to save her mother every little trouble in 
 the house, only shrinking so evidently from going 
 beyond the doors, that jNIrs Davidson after the first 
 'time did not suggest it. 
 
 One afternoon, in the third week of the year, Mr 
 Lumsden was longer of coming than usual, and ISTellie 
 began to fear they would not see him. He could not 
 o-o on giving them so much of his time, she knew. 
 There were many sick or infirm or bedridden people 
 in the village who needed him, and from -wdiom it 
 would be selfish to keep him. Her mother had gone 
 to the spring behind the Toft for water, and she sat 
 alone, when she heard footsteps. They were rapid 
 and hurrying, not like the minister's ; but she rose 
 and went towards the door, in time to see the post- 
 man, for it was he, pass the window. He pushed
 
 250 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 open the outer door, after a hasty knock, and flung 
 in a letter. It fell almost at her feet. Then he was 
 gone. 
 
 ISTellie stooped, picked it up, and looked at the 
 address. It was to herself, in a strange handwriting. 
 In one corner was a bulky, heavy enclosure. The 
 postmark was Anstruther. She could remember no 
 one there whom she knew. She turned it over. 
 The flap of the envelope was stamped in blue, with 
 a lighthouse and the words, " May Island Light." 
 Her heart began to throb with a sickening surmise. 
 Tearing open the envelope, she found a little packet 
 wrapped in a letter, which Avas Avritten in the same 
 unknown hancL She pulled off the papers in which 
 the packet was folded. They contained a piece of 
 cotton wadding, and within it a silver ring — a ring 
 with a heart-shaped ruby sunk in it — the ring "Walter 
 had shown to her when they met for the last time in 
 the Lady's Tower. 
 
 The last hope which had, almost unconsciously, 
 been lurking in her heart through all these long days 
 died away. AValter, she knew now past all doubting, 
 was indeed drowned. Here was proof. They had 
 found his body cast up by the sea on the bleak rocky 
 shore of the Isle of May. They had found the ring 
 and sent it to her. 
 
 As she turned it round in her fingers, her mother 
 came in. 
 
 " It's a' true, mither," she heard herself saying, in
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 251 
 
 a strange hard voice. " This was the ring 'at he was 
 to mairry me Avi'." 
 
 Mrs Davidson stared at her in sheer bewilderment. 
 
 " That's the letter," continued N'ellie, pointing to 
 Avhere it lay on the floor. " I ha'ena read it, but I 
 see its frae the lighthouse fouk ; and they maun ha'e 
 found Walter, efter he Avas drooned, and kent whae 
 it was by the ring." 
 
 Her oAvn voice, the meaning of lier words, seemed 
 as unreal to Nellie as to her mother, 
 
 " But hoo wad they ken tae send it tae you 1 " 
 objected her mother. " It maun be Walter that taidd 
 them. Maybe he wasna drooned ; wait or we read 
 the letter." 
 
 She got her spectacles from the mantelpiece, and 
 sat doAvn at the table, spreading the closely written 
 sheet in front of her. It was from the wife of one 
 of the lighthouse keepers, and was dated January 
 3d:— 
 
 " I write at the Eequcst of Walter Lindsay, to 
 Acquaint you that he is here in safety — on the May 
 Island. His Eight Arm being broken, he is pre- 
 vented writing himself. He asks me to Inform you 
 that on the Last Day of the Year, soon after his boat 
 reached the fishing-Ground, a little to the East of 
 this Island, a very violent Storm, accompanied with 
 Snow, came on suddenly ; and in shifting their Sail 
 to go home, the Wind struck it, and the Boat must
 
 252 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 liave Foundered instantly. He was struck on the 
 Head, and his Eight Arm broken. AVhen he came 
 to the Surface, he could see no trace of the Boat, or 
 of his Companions. And it is certain they must have 
 Perished. He found an oar from the Boat, and a 
 small barrel. Floating near him, of which he caught 
 Hold. The curent seems to have caried him in to 
 the Shore. But that he should have escaped Death 
 on the Eocks — for he is very much cut and Bruised, 
 and that my Husband should have seen him, for 
 though the Snow stopped falling, it was almost Dark 
 — this seems little short of a Miracle." 
 
 "Eh! the Lord be thankit ! " ejaculated Mrs 
 Davidson, fervently, stopping to wipe l^oth her eyes 
 and her spectacles. 
 
 JSTellie seized the letter, and went on reading to 
 herself, finding the place with some difficulty, for the 
 lines were very uneven and close together, and the 
 long straggling capitals strayed up and down from 
 one into another. 
 
 " Little short of a Miracle. There are many Wrecks 
 round the Island," went on the letter, " but it is only 
 Twice since we came here that any one has Been 
 Saved. We have no Hope that any of Walter 
 lindsay's companions have Escaped, he is very Weak 
 from loss of blud, and the exposure ; and I write this 
 Letter to go by the steamer to-morrow, that you may
 
 AN ELIE EUBY. 253 
 
 kno of liis safety, he will be able to Go by the next 
 "Weekly Steamer after this one. He asks me to en- 
 close This Eing as a tokken to make You sure of his 
 safety. You must not be surprised if this good Xews 
 should be Delayed, for it is still Such a storm, the 
 steamer may not Come ; but I have "Written to be 
 ready when she Does." 
 
 ]^ellie was so absorbed in the letter that she did 
 not notice a shadow cross the window, which made 
 her mother start up. J^or did she hear footsteps enter 
 the open doorway ; only her mother's exclamation, in 
 a tone of tremulous gladness, " Eh, I^ellie, wumman, 
 see ! whae's this ? whae's this 1 " roused her. She 
 looked up, and there, on the threshold, beside Mr 
 Lumsden, whose kind face beamed with pleasure, — 
 there, scarred and pale, his right arm in a sling, but 
 alive, alive from the dead, stood "Walter Lindsay !
 
 ALEXANDER XESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTEE. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 'JOHN HERRING.' 
 [MAGA. XovEMBER 1884.] 
 
 MY name is Alexander Xesbitt. I am, or ratlier I 
 was, a schoolmaster at a Board School situated 
 — no, I won't say where, lest I should get into a 
 scrape. Suffice it to say that the schoolhouse is 
 near a railway cutting on a branch line that leads to 
 one of the most insignificant of market towns in a 
 clay district. The country is elevated, it supports 
 few trees, and such as grow are twisted or tortured 
 out of shape by the winds from the sea. The place 
 is twelve miles as the crow flies from the Atlantic ; 
 so it has all the disadvantages and none of the ad- 
 vantages of proximity to the ocean. There is no 
 watering-place of any importance along this coast, 
 and no business of any importance done in the little 
 town; so — why the railway company made the branch, 
 I cannot conceive. In the winter of 1880-81 the 
 branch did not even reach this contemptible little 
 town ; it drew up in the midst of a clay moor covered
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 255 
 
 "with furze and rushes, and was met by a coach which 
 carried on the passengers, if there were any, to the 
 town, or dropped them at intermediate villages. That 
 was a cold winter ! The snow fell heavily and lay 
 on the moor till late in February — that is, in drifts. 
 Some of the roads were blocked level with the tops 
 of the hedges, and communication was cut off between 
 the villages. In some towns no supply of water was 
 to be had. The pipes were frozen and burst. The 
 wind from the north-east drove the snow and j)iled it 
 against every obstruction, and choked with it every 
 depression that lay across its path. 
 
 As may be surmised, our cutting got clogged. The 
 snow came on so suddenly, and fell or was driven in 
 such quantities, that it had half filled the cutting in 
 a very few hours. There are not many trains on the 
 line, consequently there was plenty of time for the 
 snow to gather between the up train and the down 
 train. It did gather, and gather so fast, that the 
 evening 6.35 train went into a bed of snow and stuck 
 there. Now I had gone to look at the line an hour 
 before that, and I saw how the snow was accumulat- 
 ing. I stood under the bank, and I assure you it was 
 like a raging sea driving foam over the edge of the 
 cutting. The snow fell in solid masses, and the roar 
 of the wind overhead was frightening. 
 
 I put my head down and made my way to the 
 rectory. I saw that something must be done, should 
 the 6.35 down train arrive. The rector is an excel-
 
 256 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 lent man, most amiable and well-intentioned, but not 
 reliable to do anything. However, there was no one 
 else to apply to, so I sought him. 
 
 " Dear me ! bless my soul ! " said he, " I will talk 
 to "Westlake about it." 
 
 Xow "Westlake is his factotum, — a man Avho gar- 
 dens, grooms, sings bass in the choir, is clerk, and 
 sexton ; he does a little carpentering Avhen required ; 
 milks the cows, cleans the boots and knives, and 
 pastes up notices of Temperance Meetings and Har- 
 vest Thanksgivings round the country, when the 
 rector has determined on giving these entertainments. 
 Xothing is done in the parish without the advice of 
 Westlake ; and the rector's opinions of the characters 
 of his parishioners are formed in the brain of West- 
 lake. 
 
 What the result of this consultation was, I am 
 unable to say, as I ran back to the cutting so as to 
 catch the 6.35 train. I left the rector talking to 
 Westlake in the laundry, where he was mangling, 
 and I saw no more of them. 
 
 I got back to the cutting before the train came up, 
 and saw that a solid bed of snow, curiously ribbed, 
 had formed across it, making it impracticable for 
 traffic. I ran down the line to meet and arrest the 
 down train. I did come upon it, labouring up the 
 gradient ; but tlie driver either did not hear my 
 shouts, owing to the roar of tlie wind, or did not 
 see me through the blinding snow. The engine Avas
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 257 
 
 not going fast, owing to the steep incline, and because 
 the driver was afraid of running off the rails. Con- 
 sequently, when he did run into the drift, no great 
 liarm was done, — the engine and tender were thrown 
 off the rails and sank into the snow, but none of the 
 passengers were hurt ; and though driver and stoker 
 were precipitated into the drift, the snow Avas so soft 
 that they took no harm by their somersaults. "When 
 I arrived, I found the guard wading from one carriage 
 to another, with his lantern, assuring tlie passengers 
 that there was no danger. Some insisted on descend- 
 ing, but, after floundering in the snow, they thought 
 best to retire under cover again. I Avent up to the 
 engine to ascertain what Avas about to be done. An 
 angry altercation was taking place between driver, 
 guard, and passengers. The engine was off the rails, 
 and could not be got on again without help. Only 
 one alternative seemed feasible, and that was for the 
 guard to go to the junction and semi up an engine 
 to take the train back to the place Avdience it had 
 started, or to go forward to the next station and 
 telegraph for assistance. 
 
 The passengers objected that they wanted to get 
 on, not be taken back to the place Avhence they had 
 started. Whilst the altercation went on, a mass of 
 snow on the bank behind gave way, and slid like an 
 avalanche uijon the lines in rear, completely covering 
 them, so as to render an immediate return impossible. 
 Tliere was, in the emergency, but one thing to be 
 
 T.s. — I. R
 
 258 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 done — the guard must go on to the next station and 
 telegraph the state of affairs, and ask that a party of 
 navvies might be sent up to dig out the train. There 
 was no engine and train at the temporary terminus, 
 consequently no means of getting forward that night 
 was available. Fortunately the number of passengers 
 was small. I invited them all to the schoolhouse, 
 near at hand, where I promised them shelter and 
 warmth. 
 
 They followed me — a doleful procession, knee-deep 
 in snow, and staggering before the Avind. There were 
 only two first-class passengers, a lady and gentleman. 
 I soon learned Avho they were — Squire Harwood of 
 Ilarwood and his wife, returning from town. Out of 
 a second-class smoking-carriage turned Mr Parnacott, 
 a retired solicitor, a queer little man, passionately 
 fond of classical music, very cantankerous — hating 
 Macfarren, Sullivan, Strauss, and Sterndale Bennett, 
 and never weary of inveighing against the degeneracy 
 of modern music. He was fizzing with anger against 
 the railway company, the engine-driver, and the 
 weather. 
 
 Several farmers issued from second-class carriages, 
 who, I learned, lived some way down the line. One 
 man, a miller, named Cudmore, was tipsy. He had 
 taken too much at tlie junction, and could hardly be 
 kept on his feet. But for a yeoman named "White- 
 away, who supported him, he would have lain down 
 in the snow and gone to sleep. "Whiteaway was a
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 259 
 
 man of substance — a warm man, as they say here- 
 abouts. 
 
 I am not going to occupy you with a description 
 of all those who left the train. Suffice it that I took 
 every one of them into the school. I lighted the fire 
 in the stove in the large room, and also that in the 
 class-room for the infants. 
 
 My own house adjoined, and I placed it unre- 
 servedly at the disposal of the passengers. Mr Par- 
 nacott gave some trouble. He was dissatisfied, turned 
 vip his nose as he entered, and said, " I wonder why 
 it is that a school always smells of an uncared-for 
 poultry-house, even after the children have left ] " 
 
 I found that my guests were hungry. I therefore 
 produced everything my larder held — a half-eaten 
 ham, a loaf, some cold potatoes. That was all. I 
 had two small bottles of stout, half-pints. The tipsy 
 man at once seized and consumed their contents. 
 
 Then I ran to the parsonage and asked the rector 
 to assist me to feed the swarm of guests. He was 
 eager to be of use, but did not know how to help till 
 he had consulted the cook and AVestlake. Fltimately 
 he sent up two pounds of clotted cream, but no bread. 
 I asked for wine and brandy, but he was unprovided 
 with alcoholic drinks, being a Blue Eibbon Army 
 man ; however, he offered to let us have as much 
 water out of his well as we liked to fetch. He was 
 out of bread, and did not bake till next day. There 
 Avere one and a half cold rissoles in the larder, but
 
 260 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 tliey would be as nothing to all those I had to feed ; 
 so he reserved them for his own supper. He was 
 much put out, he said, that the accident had happened 
 at the time when all his cliildren were home for the 
 holidays, so that he could not take any of the pas- 
 sengers into his rectory. If the accident had occurred 
 in term time, it Avould have been different. I do the 
 rector only justice when I say that he was not un- 
 willing to do his utmost, but he was a widower, and 
 completely under the dominion of his servants. The 
 cook would not find food for the passengers, and the 
 housemaid would not find beds for them, and West- 
 lake was indisposed to clean their boots. In the 
 matter of the clotted cream, the rector was decided. 
 He saw it in the pans, and he put his foot down, and 
 insisted on having them skimmed and the cream sent 
 to the schoolhouse. It would have been highly appre- 
 ciated if there had been bread to eat with it. 
 
 The dear good rector came up to the school to see 
 the colony there established. He fussed about among 
 the people, insisted on their being accommodated 
 with beds in separate rooms, and promised to send 
 mattresses and blankets from the parsonage. But the 
 promised bedding did not come. Westlake pointed 
 out to the parson that the pony could not travel in 
 such deep snow ; and that without the cart, the 
 bedding could not be transported to the school- 
 house. 
 
 Fortunately there were a couple of farmhouses
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 261 
 
 near, and some cottages, and from tliem what was 
 really necessary was procured. Some fowls were 
 killed and cooked, and bread obtained ; and suffi- 
 cient bedding for tlie emergency secured. I had to 
 see to everything — to run from one farm to the other, 
 and tax to the uttermost the resources of my own 
 small establishment. I surrendered my own room 
 and bed to the Harwoods ; and my old housekeeper 
 very good-naturedly resigned hers to ]\Ir Parnacott. 
 
 There was not much sleep for me that night. The 
 passengers would be hungry in the morning ; so I 
 occupied myself, together with my old woman, in 
 kneading and baking bread out of flour I had begged 
 at the farms and some of my own. I had to go to 
 the rectory for milk, and had great difficulty in con- 
 veying it home unspilled through the snoAV. 
 
 "When morning dawned, I was so exhausted Avith my 
 labours — chief of Avhich was the wading in snow from 
 place to place, carrying blankets, foAvls, a ham, cups, 
 milk, bread — that I could scarcely keep my feet. I 
 had got very Avet in running from place to place, and 
 very hot from kneading dough and baking it. ]\Iy 
 time had been too much taken up for me to think 
 of changing my clothes. 
 
 I had a difficulty, moreover, in the morning in 
 providing Avashing conveniences for my creAV. There 
 Avere but tAvo basins and a pie-dish in my house ; 
 moreover, the pump was frozen. That my people 
 might Avash, I Avas constrained to dissolve snoAv,
 
 262 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 ■which is a slow process, and the result is — a little 
 not very clean water, 
 
 "N^Hiilst the people were waiting, impatient and un- 
 comfortable, for their washing water, 2ih Parnacott 
 seated himself at a wretched six-guinea Alexandre 
 harmonium in the schoolroom, and played on it 
 Bach's fugues from memory. This irritated the 
 hungry, unwashed passengers, and high words passed. 
 I had a difficulty in appeasing the quarrel Avhicli 
 broke out over the harmonium. 
 
 A more difficult matter than the providing of water 
 was the furnishing of combs and brushes. Of course 
 Mrs Harwood used mine, but ]\Ir Parnacott positively 
 and indignantly rejected those of my housekeeper. 
 There was a good deal of altercation over the combs 
 and brushes ; but I was unable to attend and aUay 
 it, as I had to get breakfast ready. 
 
 I had begged a basketful of eggs at Upcott farm, 
 but in bringing them home I had fallen and broken 
 them. Fortunately I had a side of bacon in my 
 kitchen, Avhich I had recently bought^ — it had cost 
 me eighteen and ninepence. I cut from this liberally, 
 and fried as fast as I could fry, to supply my guests. 
 How the coals went ! Firing all night and all day ! 
 "Why, in the time these people were under my roof, 
 I believe the greater part of a ton went, and coals 
 came to 25s. per ton with us. It was the same with 
 my tea and sugar, they melted away like snow in a 
 south-west wind.
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 263 
 
 When breakfast was over, and the company in 
 fairly good humour, I lay on my hearth-rug, in my 
 clothes, and dropped asleep. 
 
 I was roused by a violent hubbub, and by thrusts 
 and shakings. It was with difficulty that I rallied 
 my senses : wlien I had done so, I heard Mr Harwood 
 say that the fire in the bedroom, where his wife was 
 sitting, had gone out for want of coals at the proper 
 moment, and would have to be relighted. The 
 stove in the schoolroom and the scuttle for the 
 class-room needed immediate replenishment, unless 
 I were bent on killing my guests with cold. I 
 staggered to my feet, and, lialf asleep and stupid, 
 fetched the necessary coals from the coal-hole, which 
 was outside the house. The door had been left open, 
 and the snow had driven in and buried the fuel. 
 I had to dig it out with my hands. !N'ext I found, 
 with difficulty, dry sticks, and relighted the fire in 
 the bedroom. "VVet and tired, I tried to compose 
 myself to sleep again when this was done, but was 
 roused by the advent of the guard, Avho announced 
 to the passengers that it was impossible for the line 
 to be cleared that day ; that the roads, moreover, 
 were so deep in snow, that it would be a matter of 
 extraordinary difficulty to forward them to their 
 destinations. The company was, however, using 
 superhuman efforts, straining every nerve to furnish 
 conveyances for the afternoon. 
 
 At this announcement Babel broke loose. The
 
 264 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 passengers asked if tlie company knew the dog's 
 kennel in which they were mewed ; the miserably 
 insufficient and unpalatable food they were forced to 
 consumed They did not believe the company was 
 exerting itself. They knew that if some one (with 
 a look at me) chose to make an effort and put 
 himself out of the way, traps might be found in 
 the neighbourhood to transport them all to their des- 
 tinations. I saw that I must cater for the dmner of 
 these castaways. I went to Upcott, and induced 
 the farmer to kill a sheep. I had potatoes of my 
 own. I had supplied myself with four bags before 
 the frost set in, hoping they would last me through 
 the winter. Some of the passengers clamoured for 
 ale, so I brought several bottles from the village 
 tavern. It Avas poor sour stuif. The miller Cudmore 
 said, with an oath, that he could not drink it, and 
 would have whisky or Plymouth gin ; and went 
 himself to the ale-house to procure it. On his return 
 he encountered the rector, who had come to make in- 
 quiries how Ave fared. The parson Avas indignant, and 
 called on me to support him in protest against the 
 school being made a scene of riot and drunkenness. 
 
 "When the roast mutton Avas served, the HarAvoods, 
 Mr Parnacott, and tAvo of tlie farmers refused to eat 
 it; they could not touch mutton. All the sheep Avere 
 diseasetl, and they had no doubt that this one Avas 
 killed because so badly " caAved " that it could not 
 live. They must have beef. But beef Avas not to
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTEE. 265 
 
 be had ; so my side of bacon Avas had recourse to, 
 and ahnost demoHshed. 
 
 The Harwoods refused to eat in the schoolroom, 
 because Cu.dmore had sworn and used indelicate 
 language when tipsy the previous night ; and they 
 invited Mr Parnacott to lunch with them in my 
 parlour. This, of course, entailed double labour 
 on me, as I had to attend to both parties. All 
 Avere impatient, and inclined to be abusive if I did 
 not help them to clean plates, fill their glasses, 
 furnish them with potatoes and bread the moment 
 they felt the want of these things. I had cut some 
 of my finest drum-head Savoy cabbages and cooked 
 them ; but Mr Parnacott and ]\Irs Harwood did not 
 eat cabbage, and complained of the disagreeable odour 
 that pervaded the house in consequence of it having 
 been boiled. One of the farmers found a snail in 
 his portion, and this occasioned a demonstration 
 against me for my carelessness in insufficiently 
 washing the vegetable. I not only gave them 
 " cawed " mutton, but also " sluggy " cabbage. 
 
 I do not wish to make a long story out of this. 
 Suffice it, then, for me to say, that towards dusk 
 various conveyances arrived from the town to carry 
 away the unfortunates who had been my guests for 
 pretty nearly twenty-four hours. 
 
 Then when they Avere about to leave, and Avere 
 elated at the thought of their immediate release, I 
 was surrouuded by those I had entertained.
 
 266 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " You are a good fellow," said Mr Parnacott, shaking 
 my hand. " I shall never forget your hospitality, and 
 only hope I may have an opportunity of repaying it 
 Come and see me at my little place, and I will give 
 you something there that will cheer the cockles of 
 your heart — Bach ! " 
 
 Mrs Harwood extended her little gloved hand to 
 me. She was a pretty young woman, married to a 
 rather oldish man. With a pleasant smile she said, 
 " We have intruded sadly on your valuable time, 
 Mr— Mister 1 " 
 
 " Xesbitt," said I. " Madam, your presence was 
 no intrusion ; it was a privilege to me to receive 
 you. " 
 
 She bowed slightly. 
 
 " Look here ! " said Mr Harwood ; " if ever you 
 come our way, Mr IS'esbitt, look in on us at the Hall, 
 and we shall be delighted to see you. You've ren- 
 dered us a great service, which I shall not readily 
 forget." 
 
 INIrs Harwood gave her husband a look which I did 
 not then understand. 
 
 "I say, schoolmaster," shouted Cudmore, "give us 
 your paw ! " Then, with an oath, " You are a fine 
 fellow. Come and see me when you have a holiday, 
 and dash me if I don't make you as drunk as a 
 fiddler ! " 
 
 " No, no, jNIr jSTesbitt," said the burly yeoman — 
 his name was Whiteaway, — " don't go to that walkmg
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTEE. 267 
 
 hogshead of spirits, come to me ; my missus will be 
 proud to make your acquaintance. You know where 
 I live." 
 
 I met, I must say, Avith gratitude above my deserts. 
 Every one was full of my praise, and pressed invita- 
 tions upon me, Avhich I undertook to accept. 
 
 I was relieved when the last departed. I sighed, 
 and sank into a chair. My feet were swollen, my 
 head hot and spinning. All my bones ached. I had, 
 however, still too much to do to remain idle. I had 
 to return to the neighbours plates, mugs, knives and 
 forks I had borrowed, and to the farm at Upcott a 
 large table-cloth lent for the occasion. This I found 
 inked. It had been laid in the schoolroom on tlie 
 desks, and the ink from the pots had got on it. The 
 farmer's wife at Upcott was furious, and insulted me 
 grossly when I returned it In the evening I went 
 to bed utterly prostrate. I did not rise from it for 
 several weeks. Exposure, over-exertion, and sleeping 
 in damp clothes, brought on an attack of rheumatic 
 gout. When I recovered from that, I foimd that my 
 heart was permanently affected. 
 
 During the period of my illness the Board provided 
 a substitute from one of the training colleges, and 
 paid him, deducting the amount from my salary. 
 My medical attendant sent me in a heavy bill ; and I 
 found at Lady-Day that I was in debt. However, 
 I hoped that by pinching I might get square by 
 Christmas.
 
 268 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 Whitsxmtide arrived witli bright warm weather ; 
 and as I had a holiday on Monday, and felt in good 
 spirits, I determined to make an excursion down the 
 line, and visit some of the friends I had made on the 
 occasion of the accident. I started by the earlj^ train, 
 in order to catch which I was obliged to go without 
 my breakfast. This did not matter, as I had to be at 
 Farmer "Whiteaway's at nine o'clock, and have some- 
 thing with him. I had dropped him a line on Satur- 
 day, bidding him expect me. 
 
 When I reached the station, I foimd that I had 
 started Avithout my purse. However, the station- 
 master gave me a return ticket, on my undertaking to 
 pay him the money on my coming back in the even- 
 ing. "When I reached the terminus, I found I had 
 three miles to walk to Yeoman AVliiteaway's. I then 
 regretted I had taken no breakfast. !My illness had 
 left me weak, — at least so much less strong than of 
 old, that my meals were necessary for me, and I 
 could not intermit one without feeling exhausted and 
 famt. I had gone Avithout my breakfast solely out of 
 consideration for my housekeeper, Avhom I did not 
 care to rouse before her proper time, and — surely I 
 could subsist till nine o'clock Avithout food. How- 
 ever, in that Avalk I fidt tlaat I had made a mistake. 
 The morning was hot, and the air relaxing. My 
 brow became covered with perspiration, and I felt the 
 exertion of moving my feet at every step. 
 
 Three miles to "WTiiteaway's ! It seemed to mc
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER, 269 
 
 more like four^ but then I may not have gone the 
 shortest way. I reached the house at last, at ten 
 o'clock — not nine, as I had reckoned — and felt sick 
 and faint. 
 
 The farm was old-fashioned, with white walls, 
 thatched roof, and broad Avooden windows. The 
 doorway was of granite, with a date cut on it, 1680, 
 and the initials W. W. The property had belonged 
 to the Whiteaways several hundreds of years. Be- 
 liind the house was a bank of trees ; in front a little 
 garden, in which Avhite and lilac rocket were a mass 
 of flowers, and in the sun exhaled delicious fragrance. 
 The beds were fringed with crimson thrift and London 
 Pride full of flowers. I tapped at the door, and at a 
 call to come in, entered. I found myself in the little 
 hall or front kitchen, with a large fireplace and settles, 
 and a recess to the south, lighted by a large window. 
 In this recess sat a woman picking green gooseberries 
 for a tart. My heart rose in my mouth. Gooseberry- 
 tart was what I relished highly, and I had tasted none 
 that year. 
 
 " Well, what do you want here 1 " asked the 
 woman. 
 
 " Is Mr "V^^liteaway at home ? " I inquired cheer- 
 fully. 
 
 " 'No, he is not," answered she, without raising her 
 eyes from the pie-dish. 
 
 " He Avill be home shortly, no doubt," I said, in a 
 lower key.
 
 270 TALES FROM " BLA.CKWOOD." 
 
 " Hardly," Avas her reply. 
 
 " Where is he then ? " 
 
 " Gone to see his brother, t'other side of Exeter." 
 
 '• Dear me, how tiresome ! " I said. 
 
 "Tiresome!" she echoed. '-Why sol It is a 
 hank holiday." 
 
 " Because I wrote to him to expect me here this 
 morning, and I came on purpose to see him." 
 
 " Indeed ! Yery sorry, but you must go back. 
 1^0 letter has come." 
 
 " I wrote on Saturday." 
 
 "There is no delivery on Sunday." 
 
 " But there is this morning." 
 
 " We send for our letters, when we expect to have 
 any." 
 
 " Have I the honour of addressing Mrs White- 
 away 1 " 
 
 " Whiteaway is my husband." 
 
 I was silent. I stood on one foot, and crossed my 
 legs, out of nervousness. I twirled my hat, with my 
 hands behind my back. 
 
 "My name is iSTesbitt," said I, after a long and 
 awkward pause. 
 
 " I daresay it may be," answered Mrs Whiteaway. 
 
 " I am schoolmaster at the place where the accident 
 occurred in the winter, — where your husband was de- 
 tained overnight. I daresay you have heard him 
 speak of it, and mention me." 
 
 " Xever," answered the woman.
 
 ALEXANDEK NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 271 
 
 Again ensued a pause. I was very uncomfortable ; 
 not only was I faint with hunger, but disappointed. 
 I had been standing on one foot : I had curled the 
 other in some queer way round the standing leg, in 
 an excess of nervousness, and now, with a sudden 
 qualm, I tipped forward, and was obliged to catch at 
 the table to support myself, otherwise I should have 
 fallen. 
 
 " jS'ow, then ! " exclaimed the farmer's wife, " what 
 games be you up to now? I'll thank you to take 
 yourself off. I don't like intruders." 
 
 Then, in desperation, I said, " I beg your pardon 
 humbly, IMrs Whiteaway, I could not help myself. 
 May I ask — would you give me a piece of bread and 
 butter 1 1 have had no breakfast, I " 
 
 "I thought as much," exclaimed she; "I knew 
 this would be the end of all this palaver. Take 
 yourself off, young man, — take yourself off at once. 
 Bread and butter ! no, not a bite 1 I didn't believe 
 a Avord of your tale. Wrote to Whiteaway, did you 1 
 Invited yourself here, indeed 1 Wanted to see him 
 on urgent business — that means, to get a shilling out 
 of him." 
 
 I raised my hand in protest. 
 
 " I know better," Mrs Whiteaway continued. " I 
 knows the goings-on of you beggars. You all pretend 
 to have large families, and to be dying of starvation ; 
 and you go round the country collecting bread in 
 a sack, and keep pigs on wliat the charitable give
 
 272 TALES F1!0M "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 you. Xo, Get out of tlie liouse this instant. I am 
 not one to be deceived. Not a crust shall you have 
 from me." 
 
 As I retired, crestfallen, she flung this jiarting shot 
 at me, " I know the sort of rogue you be, I don't 
 like the look of you to begin with. You go round 
 on false excuses, to see the inside of folk's houses, 
 where you may steal a few silver spoons. If the 
 police come this way, I'll mind to bid them keep 
 a sharp look-oi;t for you There." 
 
 I left, much depressed. Xow a ravening, wolf- 
 like desire for food woke up in my vitals, and I 
 picked grass and gnawed it. A labourer, of whom 
 I inquired the 'way, told me that ]\Ir Parnacott lived 
 a mile further. I walked on eagerly — I was sure of 
 food at his house. 
 
 He inhabited a trim villa-like residence with a 
 verandah round it, about which clematis and westeria 
 Avere blooming and scenting the air, I was too 
 hungry to admire, but not to notice, the pretty 
 combination of white clematis and blue westeria, Avith 
 the delicate yellow-green young leaves of the latter. 
 
 I rang at the door, and a neat maid opened and 
 admitted me. I was shown into the parlour. A 
 moment later, in rushed ]\Ir Parnacott Avitli both 
 hands extended. 
 
 " So glad to see you. I wish you had come an 
 hour earlier in time for breakfast. Xow Ave must 
 wait. I never, on principle, have anything between
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 273 
 
 meals; but there is music, my clear fellow, — come 
 into my sanctum and hear. I have got Bach open, 
 and have been practising his most difficult fugue 
 in D ij; minor. AVhat a man that grand old Sebastian 
 was ! He lived before his time ! Like all geniuses, 
 he lived for an appreciative future. Fancy his fugues 
 on the spinet ! impossible ! On the harpsichord ! 
 intolerable ! The pianoforte was not in his day. 
 Come along ; I have something to show you. I have 
 just received a copy of ' Science of Fugue,' published 
 in 1752, — an original copy, — and I have been enjoy- 
 ing it all the morning. Figured base. Come along. 
 "VVe lunch at half-past one." 
 
 He drew me into his little back room, and seated 
 himself at the piano. He struck a chord, then turn- 
 ing his head over his shoulder, asked, " You are fond 
 of music?" 
 
 " Yes, very." 
 
 " Do you play yourself 1 " 
 
 "A little." 
 
 "Bach?" 
 
 "^_n— 0." 
 
 " N'ot Bach ! Then you are in darkness. Are you 
 fond of fugues 1 " 
 
 " I cannot say," I replied ; and to this day I Avould 
 make the same answer, empty or full, " I really can- 
 not say." 
 
 Fugues are beyond my musical horizon. They may 
 be very fine, but they are very bewildering. They 
 
 T.S. — I. s
 
 274 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 appeal to the brain, not to the ear. They demand 
 a scientific knowledge of music, not a musical soul. 
 To me they resemble a steeplechase. Away go the 
 parts, helter-skelter over the hedges, tripping one 
 another up, down into the ditches, head over heels, 
 up again. Tally-ho ! away at neck and neck tear ! 
 The devil take the hindermost ! 
 
 " ]^ow we come to a very choice passage," ex- 
 claimed Mr Parnacott, "be all ear." His fingers 
 raced, twisted, jumped, the hands played leap-frog, 
 helter-skelter ! I thought the wires must have given 
 
 way. 
 
 On the table was a tumbler and a red porous 
 earthenware water-bottle. Unobserved, I poured out 
 a glass and drank it off. The water slaked my 
 thirst, but did not satisfy my hunger. The fugue 
 Avent on, it seemed interminable ; it went on upon 
 my nerves — they tlirilled, leaped, twinged ; I could 
 bear it no more. It drove me desperate. I sprang 
 to my feet, I put my hand down on the fingers 
 of the instrumentalist, and whilst cold perspiration 
 streamed from my brow and literally dripped from 
 me, I said, with white face and quivering Hps, " A 
 piece of bread and butter! — a piece of bread and 
 butter is worth more than all the fugues ever written 
 by old Bach or any other fool ! " 
 
 " ^Miat ! " exclaimed Mr Parnacott, springing up. 
 " You are insane, sir ! You take extraordinary 
 liberties. This is my house, sir! This is my in-
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 275 
 
 strunient, sir ! These are my fingers, sir ! This is 
 my Bach, sir! You forget yourself, schoohnaster ! 
 Allow me to show you the door." 
 
 I left the house quivering in every fibre. That 
 dreadful fugue had driven me to desperation. A 
 fugue is never soothing, — on an empty stomach it 
 is maddening. 
 
 I lurched along the road, now hot, now cold, 
 mopping my face, then sitting down on a bank to 
 compose myself. My head swam when I stood up, 
 and a cloud seemed to drift before my eyes. I feared 
 losing consciousness. I looked at my watch and saAv 
 that the time was noon. I knew that about a mile 
 and a half across the fields was Harwood Park. 
 Should I venture there 1 Mr Harwood had assured 
 me of a Avelcome. He was a blunt, open-hearted 
 man. I would tell him my need, and he would at 
 once order me some lunch. It was now too late to 
 think of breakfast. 
 
 I walked over the fields golden with buttercups. 
 The hedges were full of hawthorn, and the path 
 under them looked as though they had been snowed 
 over, — they were strewn with the fallen flowers. 
 The birds were singing, the flowers were expanded 
 to the sun, — all nature was brimming with happiness, 
 except myself, and I asked for very little to be happy 
 as any bird or blossom. I asked for nothing but a 
 piece of bread and butter. 
 
 The fresh grass about me, the sweet scents exhaled
 
 276 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 "by the flowers, revived and soothed me. I felt better 
 when I reached the park gates. The rhododendrons 
 were a blaze of bloom, crimson, white, and lilac. The 
 azaleas also, yellow, salmon-coloured, and crushed 
 strawberry, were a mass of flower. The red and pink 
 thorns were also in bloom, so were the laburnum and 
 guelder roses. The drive to the house lay between 
 banks of colour. 
 
 The mansion is handsome, in the Italian style, 
 built about the end of last century or the beginning 
 of this, with Ionic pilasters, and windows let in be- 
 tween them, and a pediment over the door containing 
 the arms of the Harwoods. Before the house Avas a 
 terrace beautiful with azaleas, and a fountain. Large 
 glass doors opened into the hall. I rang, somewhat 
 timidly, and stood looking at my reflection in the 
 panes. I admit that I did not appear to advantage. 
 I was pale and hot, and out of sorts. Eemember, I 
 had eaten nothing for sixteen hours, and had recently 
 recovered from a sickness. This sickness had left 
 me thin, so that the clothes, which once fitted me, 
 hung loose about my attenuated form. Moreover, 
 they were not new. The knees of my trousers pro- 
 truded. The seams of my coat showed white, and 
 my riglit sleeve was glossy. The fuU blaze of sun- 
 light was on me, as I stood before the house, bringing 
 out these imperfections with cruel distinctness. I 
 had intended treating myself to a new suit at AVhit- 
 suntide ; but my illness, and the expense of finduig
 
 ALEXAKDEE NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 277 
 
 a substitute, had forced me to abandon the idea. I 
 drew a dogskin glove on my left hand. It was 
 split at the thumb, but by folding the thumb across 
 the palm I concealed the gap. Whilst adjusting my 
 shirt-collar, which had become limp through the heat 
 I was in, a footman came to the door and opened it. 
 He was m livery, red plush and black. He eyed me 
 superciliously. My nervousness overcame me, and I 
 did not find voice at first. Then he said, "Look 
 here, young man; I think you've made a mistake, 
 and ought to have gone round to the back door." 
 
 " I want to see Mr Harwood," said I. 
 
 "K'ot at home." 
 
 "Will he be long?" 
 
 "Don't know — fishing ; got a party with him." 
 
 " May I speak with Mrs Harwood 1 " 
 
 He hesitated, and again studied me. 
 
 " What do you want 1 What is your name 1 " 
 
 "My name is Nesbitt. Mrs Harwood knows all 
 about me ; be so good as to ask her to grant me an 
 interview." 
 
 " Come inside." 
 
 He ushered me into the hall. " There, you can 
 stand or sit in a corner. I'll return directly." 
 
 He went leisurely away. 
 
 A handsome large hall, with the staircase opening 
 out of it, and family portraits, full length, adorning 
 the walls. On the right was the door into the din- 
 ing-room. I saw in, because the door was open.
 
 278 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 The table was laid, and glittered witli glass and 
 silver, which the butler was arranging. I saw him 
 with a silver basket and a fork putting bread to each 
 napkin. I was almost irresistibly impelled to rush 
 in and seize some of the bread I refrained myself, 
 but the effort was great. My hungry stomach al- 
 most cried out. Presently the footman returned. I 
 had seated myself. I rose to receive his message. 
 
 " Werry sorry," said he ; " Mr Harwood is not 
 at home, and Missus is engaged. If you want 
 anything particular, she said you was to send word 
 by me." 
 
 "I Avant — I want," said I, trembling and gasping, 
 — -"I want some bread and butter." 
 
 " K'ow, look here," said the footman ; " I've done 
 wrong in letting you in at this door. I see you are 
 drunk. You go at once. Go peaceable." 
 
 " I entreat you," I exclaimed, " have consideration 
 on me. I must have some bread and butter." 
 
 "Mr Newberry," said the footman, calling the 
 butler from the dining-room, "here's an intoxicated 
 fellow got into the 'all. Help me to turn him out 
 before the gentlefolks arrive." 
 
 To escape the ignominy of expulsion, I left of my 
 own accord. I walked down the drive. I turned 
 twice and looked behind me. I saw the red waist- 
 coat and breeches of the footman through the glass. 
 He was watching to see me off the premises. The 
 butler was at the dining-room window. I could see
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTEE. 279 
 
 his white tie. Dejected, scarce able to walk, I stag- 
 gered through the lodge gates. 
 
 I met the gamekeeper, who told me that Mr Cud- 
 more lived a mile and a half off, on the other side of 
 the moor. I resolved to visit him. I would not 
 have done so had I been received and entertained 
 elsewhere, as his acquaintance was not one I cared to 
 cultivate ; but under the circumstances, I could not 
 help myself. There was no train back till 4.28 p.m., 
 three hours and a half hence. I must have some- 
 thing to eat before then. It would take me another 
 hour to reach home. Four hours and a half more of 
 starvation was to me an unendurable thought. I felt 
 that I could not go on so long without food. I did 
 not ask for much ; one piece of bread and butter 
 would be enough to keep me alive, if the bread were 
 cut in a thick slab, and the butter laid on with a 
 trowel. There is much nutriment in butter, as much 
 as in bread. That is why I always insist on butter 
 Avith my bread. The mile and a half across the moor 
 seemed endless, and cost me a long ramble. There 
 were numerous paths over it, and I did not know 
 which to take. I had forgotten the directions of the 
 keeper. I lost my way. 
 
 At last I reached Mr Cudmore's house. He was a 
 miller. As I approached, I met a boy dusted over 
 Avith flour, probably his son. I asked if the miller 
 were at home. 
 
 " Yes," was the reply ; "at home, and has friends."
 
 280 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " Friends ! To dinner 1" I was relieved. 
 
 "Yes, I reckon." 
 
 I hastened to the mill. jSIy heart beat furiously 
 "with hope. As I drew near I heard a rough voice 
 singing, then a chorus of hoarse bass, regardless of 
 time and tune. 
 
 The voices issued from the mill. I went in. 
 ]\Iiller Cudmore was there, with three men. A great 
 jug of cider stood on the flour-bin ; each of the men 
 had a glass in his hand. 
 
 Directly Cudmore saw nie, he knew me, and shook 
 hands affectionately ; then, with an oath, insisted on 
 shaking hands a second time, then a third, then on 
 his companions shaking hands with me. " All jolly 
 good fellows ! — very jolly. Jolly companions every 
 one. Bank holiday." Evidently the men had been 
 drinking. Whitsun ^Monday is a. universal holiday. 
 Friends had come to enjoy the day with him ; and 
 how could it be better enjoyed than by getting drunk 1 
 Their coats were white with flour. The flour was in 
 their hair ; their red, damp faces were dusted with it. 
 They sat on sacks filled Avith grain, or on flour-bins. 
 
 " N'ow, then— begin again ! " shoiited Cudmore ; 
 and in a hoarse voice he yelled —   
 
 " Old Arscott, he was a hunting squire,^ 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! 
 
 ^ Squire Arscott of Tetcott is famous in the north of Devon. 
 He is said to be still he.ard riding and blowing his horn of 
 stormy nights. He died in 1788, aged 69.
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTEE. 281 
 
 He hunted a fox with a brush of fire, 
 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! 
 He rode a good horse, and he drank good ale. 
 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! 
 He swore, till the parson and maids turned pale, 
 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! " 
 
 The Tally-hoes were sung iii discordant chorus, witli 
 much spilling of cider from the glasses, which were 
 waved over the heads of the drinkers. 
 
 " By George ! " exclaimed Cudmore, interrupting 
 his song, " our good friend, the schoolmaster, has no 
 drink. Here, man ! there's not another glass, so just 
 join lips to the jug." Then he roared forth — 
 
 " Old Arscott, he heard, of a Sunday morn. 
 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! 
 How the bells did call, and he said in scorn, 
 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! 
 An hour of sermons is Hell to me, 
 
 TaUy-ho ! Tally-ho ! TaUy-ho ! 
 My Heaven is to hunt through eternity ! 
 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! " 
 
 " Drmk, schoolmaster, drink ! " shouted Cudmore, 
 " Look y' here, lads ! this schoolmaster is half a 
 parson, and won't drink good cider. Open his mouth 
 and pour it ui." 
 
 " I will take sufficient," said I, " but I entreat you 
 to allow me a piece of hread and butter with it. I 
 cannot drink on an empty stomach." 
 
 "Dash me ! " roared the miller, "the chap has got 
 an empty stomach. Xow you are a lucky dog to 
 have so much room for cider. I wish we had your
 
 282 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 luck. Look here, lads ! knock the schoolmaster do^^^l, 
 and Ave'll pour cider into his empty stomach till he's 
 chuck-fulL" 
 
 " I entreat you, forhear ! " I cried, in an agony of 
 fear. 
 
 Knock me down ! They coidd do that with a 
 feather, I was so Aveak with hunger, exhausted with 
 my walk, and frail through sickness. 
 
 " We will — we will, by George ! unless you finish 
 the jug at a draught. Shall we not, Simon 1 "\Miat 
 do you say, Dick 1 Eh, Thomas Langworthy 1 " 
 
 His companions acquiesced. I put the jug to my 
 mouth, and drank as much as I could. 
 
 " Let i;s look." They caught the jug from me and 
 peered into it. " Oh, the sneak ! he hasn't half 
 emptied it. Drink again, or we'll have you down." 
 
 I was forced again to apply my lips to the jug 
 and take a long draught. Then I coidd no more ; I 
 dashed the cider out of it on the floor, tm-ned, and 
 sprang through the mill-door. 
 
 I heard a shout, then the tipsy men rushed after 
 
 me, swearing horribly ; but I hid myself behind the 
 
 stable-door, and heard them stumble against each 
 
 other, quarrel, and call for more drink. I waited till 
 
 I heard Cudmore's voice begin — 
 
 " Old Arscott, he lay on his dying bed, 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! " 
 
 I Avaited for no more, but escaped on to the moor. I 
 felt, as I tried to walk back over the moor, that I
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTEK. 283 
 
 was in a worse condition than before. On an empty 
 stomach I had taken a good deal of cider, and it 
 mounted to my head. I knew that I reeled. I was 
 conscious that I was tipsy, and I was distressed and 
 ashamed at it. IsTothing but solid food would re- 
 cover me. 
 
 I encountered the miller's son again, and he di- 
 rected me the nearest way to the station. I must 
 pass Whiteaway's farm once more. 
 
 Happening to look over my shoulder, after I had 
 said good-bye to the boy, I saw, or thought I saw, 
 the rural policeman. I hurried on. I did not wish 
 him to see me in the condition I was in. In getting 
 over a stile I tumbled, and tore my coat and muddied 
 my trousers. My hat also got crushed. I picked 
 myself up with difficulty. To compose myself, I 
 tried to recollect a hymn from ' Ancient and Modern,' 
 but could recall nothing save — 
 
 ' ' Old Arscott, he was a hunting squire, 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! 
 He hunted a fox with a brush of fire, 
 Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! " 
 
 So I sang that till interrupted by hiccup, which took 
 me badly, owing to want of food, I believe. 
 
 I suppose I was near Whiteaway's farm when I 
 saw before me, sitting in the sun, under a hedge in 
 a bed of red-robbin and bluebells, the dearest little 
 child, with fair flaxen hair, and eyes like the heavens. 
 But the beauty of the child did not attract and rivet
 
 284 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 my attention. The child was eating. It had in its 
 hand a large round of home-made bread, quite three- 
 quarters of an inch thick, piled up with cream, stand- 
 ing on it the same thickness, and on top of the cream 
 was a curl, like a pig's tail, of treacle. This is locally 
 termed " thunder and lightning." i^ow bread and 
 butter is a good thing to a hungry man ; but bread 
 and cream, with a curl of treacle, is enough to throw 
 a full man off his equilibrium. If my readers are 
 disposed to judge me harshly, let them fast for seven- 
 teen or eighteen hours, when convalescent, after an 
 attack of rheumatic gout, and have a piece of bread 
 and thunder and lightning passed before their eyes. 
 Then only will they be able to judge me with justice. 
 If I had been only hungry I might have restrained 
 myself, but the alcoholic drink poured into that vast 
 vacuum had robbed me of all self-restraint. At the 
 sight of the child with the round of bread and cream 
 I was like one mad. That, and that only, would 
 restore me to sobriety, would recover my strength, 
 would enable me to reach my destination. I stood 
 opposite the child watching it. My eyes seemed to 
 sink in solid lumps into those creamy depths. My 
 teeth chattered. My hands became spasmodically 
 clenched. Convulsive movements passed over my 
 face. Spasms contracted my vitals. I felt as if my 
 spine yawned and closed again with a snap. 
 
 " I must, I will have your bread and cream," I 
 said in a hoarse voice, approaching the child. " Do
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX- SCHOOLMASTER. 285 
 
 not scream, do not run away ; I will not hurt you, 
 but have your food I will." 
 
 The little one started to its feet, and shrieked at 
 the sight of my wild face and ravening jaws. It 
 tried to escape. Then I caught it by the shoulder 
 with one hand, wrenched the bread from it with the 
 other, and was about, with a sigh of satisfaction, to 
 ram the whole round into my mouth and down my 
 throat, when a hand clutched my neck. I was held 
 as in a vice. I heard, " "We have you now, you 
 drunken vagabond, robbing and assaulting a child. 
 I've been follering you ever so long. First, entering 
 Mrs "VVhiteaway's and frightening her into fits ; then 
 insulting Mr Parnacott; then that owdacious, you 
 invaded the Park ; and last, after drinking more with 
 Miller Cudmore, you assault and rob the child." 
 
 The bread was taken from me, to be produced at 
 the petty sessions as evidence against me. I collapsed 
 altogether, and sank fainting at the feet of the rural 
 policeman. I had neither strength nor spirit left. 
 
 I have not much more to tell. 
 
 I was had up before the magistrates on the double 
 charge of drunkenness and assault. I remember 
 every word that the presiding magistrate said in 
 passing sentence. His words burnt themselves into 
 my brain. I had been unable to deny that I was 
 intoxicated, for I knew that the miller's cider had 
 upset my head. 
 
 The magistrate said that it was a matter of regret
 
 286 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 to himself and the entire Bench that bank holidays 
 should furnish so many cases for the interference 
 of the police. It was humiliating for us, as English- 
 men, to consider that a certain large class of Eng- 
 lishmen seemed incapable of enjoying a holiday 
 without making beasts of themselves. It was 
 especially distressing to the Bench to have brought 
 before them one who, by his position, should set an 
 example to old and young, and by his education should 
 be superior to low and grovelling vices. Considering 
 that this was a first offence, and that I seemed 
 penitent, the Bench was disposed to deal leniently 
 with me, in the hope that this would be a warning 
 to me which I might never forget, and that on bank 
 holidays I should be especially careful how I dis- 
 posed of my time. The Bench would impose on me 
 a nominal fine of one shilling, which, with the ex- 
 penses, would make sixteen. The chairman, in con- 
 clusion, expressed his sincere hope that this was the 
 last time I should appear before them under such 
 disgraceful circumstances. He must add, for his 
 own part, that he felt — and he had no doubt his 
 fellow-magistrates on the Bench concurred with him 
 — that I had made matters worse by the altogether 
 preposterous explanation of the circumstances which 
 I liad offered as my excuse, and which it was impos- 
 sible for them to receive. 
 
 This sentence was followed by a special meeting 
 of the School Boai-d, attended by all the members.
 
 ALEXANDER NESBITT, EX-SCHOOLMASTER. 287 
 
 After the meeting I was informed by the secretary 
 that my services would he dispensed with at the end 
 of three months, when the substitute who had taken 
 mv place during my illness would become permanent 
 head-master of the schooL The secretary regretted, on 
 behalf of the committee, that my recent conduct had 
 been such as to leave them no choice in the matter. 
 
 Thus it happens that I am no longer schoolmaster. 
 I have applied for other schools, but have been in- 
 variably unsuccessful My evil report, as a drunkard, 
 has preceded me. My career in the scholastic pro- 
 fession is closed. This is not aU. I was engaged 
 to a very charming girl with a Kttle money of her 
 own- Some ill-natured person sent her the local 
 paper containing the notice of my appearance before 
 the magistrates, and sentence. She broke oif the 
 encasement forthwith- 
 
 I am about to apply for a free passage to Australia. 
 England is no place for me now. I may do better in 
 a new country, but my heart is weak, and I shall 
 never be fit for much. When I had handed over 
 the school to my successor, I walked to the railway 
 cutting, and sat on the bank in the sun, and watched 
 the 6.35 down train go by. 
 
 "Oh!" said I, "if I had let that train-load of 
 passengers stick in the snow last winter, and had 
 not held out a finger to help them, I should now 
 be master in the school, PoILy Parkinson would be 
 my wife, and my heart would be sound as a belL"
 
 KING BEMBA'S POINT. 
 
 A WEST AFRICAN STORY. 
 BY J. LANDERS. 
 
 [MAGA. July ISSl.] 
 
 WE were for tlie most part a queer lot out on 
 that desolate south-west African coast, in charge 
 of the various trading stations that were scattered 
 along the coast, from the Gaboon river, past the mouth 
 of the mighty Congo, to the Portuguese city of St 
 Paul de Loanda. A mixture of all sorts, especially 
 of bad sorts — broken-down clerks, men who could 
 not succeed anywhere else, sailors, youths, and some 
 whose characters Avould not have borne any investi- 
 gation ; and we very nearly all drank hard, and those 
 who didn't drink hard, took more than was good for 
 them. 
 
 I don't knoAV exactly what induced me to go out 
 tliere. I was young for one thing, the country was 
 unknown, the berth was vacant, and the conditions 
 of it easy.
 
 KING BEMBA'S point. 289 
 
 Imagine a high rocky point or headland, stretching 
 out sideways into the sea, and at its base a small 
 river winding into a country that was seemingly a 
 blank in regard to inhabitants or cultivation — a land 
 continuing for miles and miles, as far as the eye 
 could see, one expanse of long yellow grass, dotted 
 here and there with groups of bastard palms. In 
 front of the headland rolled the lonely South At- 
 lantic ; and, as if such conditions were not dispiriting 
 enough to existence upon the Point, there was yet 
 another feature which at times gave the place a still 
 more ghastly look. A long way off" the shore, the 
 heaving surface of the ocean began, in anything like 
 bad weather, to break ujion the shoals of the coast. 
 Yiewed from the top of the rock, the sea at such 
 times looked, for at least two miles out, as if it were 
 scored over with lines of white foam; but lower 
 down, near the beach, each roller could be distinctly 
 seen, and each roller had a curve of many feet, and 
 was an enormous mass of water that hurled itself 
 shorewards until it curled and broke. 
 
 "VYhen I first arrived on the Point there was, I 
 may say, only one house upon it, and that belonged 
 to Messrs Flint Brothers of Liverpool. It was occu- 
 pied by one solitary man named Jackson : he had 
 had an assistant, but the assistant had died of fever, 
 and I was sent to replace him. Jackson was a man 
 of fifty at least, who had been a sailor before he had 
 become an African trader. His face bore testimony 
 
 T.s. — I T
 
 290 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD 
 
 5J 
 
 to the winds and weather it had encountered, and 
 wore habitually a grave if not melancholy expression. 
 He was rough but kind to me, and though strict was 
 just, which was no common feature in an old African 
 hand to one who had just arrived on the coast. 
 
 He kept the factory — we called all houses on the 
 coast factories — as neat and clean as if it had been a 
 ship. He had the floor of the portion we dwelt in 
 holystoned every week ; and numberless little racks 
 and shelves were fitted up all over the house. The 
 outside walls glittered with paint, and the yard was 
 swept clean every morning; and every Sunday, at 
 eight o'clock and sunset, the ensign was hoisted and 
 lowered, and an old cannon fired at the word of com- 
 mand. Order and rule were with Jackson observed 
 from habit, and were strictly enforced by him on all 
 the natives employed in the factory. 
 
 Although I have said the country looked as if un- 
 inhabited, there were numerous villages hidden away 
 in the long grass and brushwood, invisible at a dis- 
 tance, being huts of thatch or mud, and not so high 
 as the grass among which they were placed. From 
 these villages came most of our servants, and also the 
 middlemen, Avho acted as brokers between us, the 
 white men, and the negroes who brought ivory, and 
 gum, and india-rubber from the far interior for sale. 
 Our trade was principally in ivory, and when an un- 
 usually large number of elephants' tusks arrived upon 
 the Point for sale, it would be crowded with bush-
 
 KING BEMBA'S point. 291 
 
 men, strange and uncouth, and hideously ugly, and 
 armed, and then we would be very busy ; for some- 
 times as many as two hundred tusks would be 
 brought to us at the same time, and each of these 
 had to be bargained for and paid for by exchange of 
 cotton cloths, guns, knives, powder, and a host of 
 small wares. 
 
 For some time after my arrival our factory, along 
 with the others on the coast belonging to ISIessrs 
 Flint Brothers, was very well supplied by them 
 with goods for the trade ; but by degrees their ship- 
 ments became less frequ.ent, and small when they did 
 come. In spite of repeated letters we could gain 
 no reason from the firm for this fact, nor could the 
 other factories, and gradually we found ourselves 
 with an empty storehouse, and nearly all our goods 
 gone. Then followed a weary interval, during which 
 we had nothing whatever to do, and day succeeded 
 day through the long hot season. It was now that I 
 began to feel that Jackson had become of late more 
 silent and reserved with me than ever he had been. 
 I noticed, too, that he had contracted a habit of 
 wandering out to the extreme end of the Point, 
 where he would sit for hours gazing upon the ocean 
 before him. In addition to this, he grew morose 
 and uncertain in his temper towards the natives, and 
 sometimes he would fall asleep in the evenings on a 
 sofa, and talk to himself at such a rate while asleep 
 that I would grow frightened, and Avake him, when
 
 292 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 he would stare about him for a little until he gathered 
 consciousness, and then he would stagger off to bed to 
 fall asleep again almost immediately. Also his hands 
 trembled much, and he began to lose flesh. All this 
 troubled me, for his own sake as well as my o^^•n, 
 and I resolved to ask him to see the doctor of the 
 next mail-steamer that came. With this idea I Avenfc 
 one day to the end of the Point, and found him in 
 his usual attitude, seated on the Ion" m-ass, lookiu" 
 seaward. He did not hear me apjoroach, and Avhen 
 I spoke he started to his feet, and demanded fiercely 
 why I disturbed him. I rei^lied, as mildly as I 
 could, for I was rather afraid of the glittering look 
 that was in his eyes, that I wished to ask him if he 
 did not feel ill. 
 
 He regarded me with a steady but softened glance 
 for a little, and then said — 
 
 " My lad, I thank you for your trouble ; but I want 
 no doctor. Do you think I'm looking ill 1 " 
 
 " Indeed you are," I answered, " ill and thin ; and, 
 do you know, I hear you talk to yourself in your 
 sleep nearly every night." 
 
 " What do I say 1 " he asked, eagerly. 
 
 '• That I cannot tell," I replied. " It is all ram- 
 bling talk — the same things over and over again, and 
 nearly all about one person — Lucy." 
 
 " Boy ! " he cried out, as if in pain, or as if something 
 had touched him to the quick, "sit you down, and 
 I'll tell you why I think of her — she was my wife."
 
 KING bemba's point. 293 
 
 He moved nearer to the edge of the cHfl", and Ave 
 sat down, almost over the restless sea beneath us. 
 
 " She lives in my memory," he continued, speaking 
 more to himself than to me, and looking far out to 
 the horizon beneath which the setting sun had begun 
 to sink, " in spite of all I can do or think of to make 
 her appear base in my eyes. For she left me to go 
 with another man — a scoundrel. This was how it 
 was," he added, quickly : " I married her, and thovight 
 her as pure as a flower ; but I could not take her to 
 sea with me because I was only the mate of a vessel, 
 so I left her among her own friends, in the village 
 where she was born. In a little cottage by herself 
 I settled her, comfortable and happy as I thought. 
 God ! how she hung round my neck and sobbed 
 when I went away the first time ! and yet — yet — 
 within a year she left me." And he stopped for 
 several minutes, resting his head upon his hands. 
 " At first I could get no trace of her," he resumed. 
 " Her friends knew nothing more of her than that 
 she had left the village suddenly. Gradually I found 
 out the name of the scoundrel who had seduced her 
 away. He had bribed her friends so that they were 
 silent ; but I over-bribed them with the last money 
 that I had, and I followed him and my wife on foot. 
 I never found them, nor did I ever know why she 
 had deserted me for him. If I had only known the 
 reason ; if I could have been told of my fault ; if she 
 had only written to say that she was tired of me ;
 
 294 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD," 
 
 that I was too old, too rough for her soft ways, — I 
 tliink I could have borne the heavy stroke the villain 
 had dealt me better. The end of my search was that 
 I dropped down in the streets of Liverpool, whither 
 I thought I had tracked them, and was carried to the 
 hospital Avith brain fever upon me. Two months 
 afterwards I came out cured, and the sense of my 
 loss was deadened within me, so that I could go to 
 sea again, which I did, before the mast, under the 
 name of Jackson, in a barque that traded to this 
 coast here." And the old sailor rose to his feet 
 and turned abruptly away, leaving me sitting 
 alone. 
 
 I saw that he did not wish to be followed, so I 
 stayed where I was and watched the grey twilight 
 creep over the face of the sea, and the night quickly 
 succeed to it. Xot a cloud had been in the sky all 
 the day long, and as the darkness increased the stars 
 came out, until the whole heavens were studded with 
 glittering gems. 
 
 Suddenly, low down, close to the sea, a point of 
 light flickered and disappeared, shone again for a 
 moment, wavered and went out, only to reappear 
 and shine steadily. " A steamer's mast-head light," 
 I thought, and ran to the house to give the news ; 
 but Jackson had already seen the light, and pro- 
 nounced it to be that of a mail-steamer, and shortly 
 we saw her side-lights, and the sound of a gun an- 
 nounced that she had anchored until the morning.
 
 KING BEMBA'S point. 295 
 
 At daybreak there she was, dipping her sides to the 
 swell of the sea as it roUed beneath her. It was my 
 duty to go off to her in one of the surf-boats belong- 
 ing to the factory; and so I scrambled down the 
 cliff to the little strip of smooth beach that served us 
 for a landing-place. 
 
 AVlien I arrived there I found that the white- 
 crested breakers were heavier than I had thought 
 they would be. However, there was the boat lying 
 on the beach with its prow towards the waves, and 
 round it were the boat-boys with their loin-cloths 
 girded, ready to start ; so I clambered into the stern, 
 or rather — for the boat was shaped alike at stem and 
 stern — the end from which the steersman, or patrao, 
 used his long oar. "With a shout the boys laid hold 
 of the sides of the boat, and the next moment it was 
 dancing on the spent waves next to the beach. The 
 jjatrao kept its head steady, and the boys jumped in 
 and seized the oars, and began pulling with a will, 
 standing up to their stroke. SloAvly the heavy craft 
 gathered way, and approached a dark and unbroken 
 roller that hastened towards the beach. Then the 
 patrao shouted to the crew, and they lay on their 
 oars, and the wave with a roar burst right in front of 
 the boat, sending the spray of its crest high above 
 our heads. 
 
 " Rema ! rema for^a ! " (row strongly,) now 
 shouted the %)atrao, speaking Portuguese, as mostly 
 all African coast natives do, — and the crew gave
 
 296 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 ■way. The next roller we had to meet in its strength ; 
 and save for the steady force of the pcdrad's oar, I 
 believe it would have tossed ns aside and we would 
 have been swept under its curving wall of water. As 
 it was, the good boat gave a mighty bound as it felt 
 its force, and its stem pitched high into the air as it 
 slid down its broad back into the deep. 
 
 Another and yet another wave were passed, and 
 we could now see them breaking behind us, shutting 
 out the beach from view. Then the last roller was 
 overcome, and there was nothing but the long heave 
 of the deep sea to contend against. Presently we 
 arrived at the steamer, whose side towered above us, 
 an iron Avail. 
 
 A shout came to me, jDitching and lurching with 
 the boat far below, " Come on board at once." But 
 to come on board was only to be done by watching 
 a chance as the boat rose on the top of a roller. 
 Taking such a one, I seized the side-ropes, swung a 
 moment in mid-air, and the next was on the steamer's 
 clean white deck. Before me stood a tall man with 
 black hair and whiskers, and dark piercing eyes, who 
 asked me if I was the a<?ent for Flint Brothers. I 
 answered that the agent was on shore, and that I was 
 his assistant. Whereupon he informed me that he 
 had been appointed by the firm to liquidate all their 
 stations and businesses on the coast, and " he would 
 be obliged by my getting his luggage into the boat." 
 This was said in a peremptory sort of way, as if he
 
 KING BEMBAS POINT. 297 
 
 bad spoken to a servant ; and very much against the 
 grain I obeyed bis orders. 
 
 That the man was new to the coast was evident, 
 and my consolation was that be woukl be very soon 
 sick of it and pretty well frightened before be even 
 got on shore, for the weather was freshening rapidly, 
 a fact of which he appeared to take no heed. I^ot so 
 the boat-boys, who were anxious to be off. At last 
 we started, and I soon bad my revenge. As we drew 
 near the shore the rollers became higher and higher, 
 and I perceived that my gentleman clutched the gun- 
 wale of the boat very tightly, and when the first 
 wave that showed signs of breaking overtook us, he 
 grew very white in the face until it had passed. 
 
 The next one or two breakers were small, much to 
 his relief I could see, though he said nothing. Be- 
 fore he had well recovered his equanimity, however, 
 a tremendous wave approached us somewhat sud- 
 denly. Appalled by its threatening aspect, he sprang 
 from his seat and seized the arm of the patrao, who 
 roughly shook him off. 
 
 " ]\Iy God ! " he cried, " we are swamped ! " and 
 for the moment it really looked like it ; but the 
 patrao, with a dexterous sweep of his long oar, 
 turned the boat's head towards the roller. It broke 
 just as it reached us and gave us the benefit of its 
 crest, which came in over the top sides of the boat as 
 it passed by, and deluged every one of us. 
 
 I laughed, although it was no laughing matter, at
 
 298 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 the plight the liquidator was now in. He was changed 
 in a moment from a spruce and natty personage into 
 a miserable and draggled being. From every part of 
 him the salt water was streaming, and the curl was 
 completely taken out of his whiskers. He could not 
 speak from terror, which the boat-boys soon saw, for 
 none are quicker than negroes to detect signs of fear 
 in those whom they are accustomed to consider su- 
 perior to themselves. Familiar with the surf, and 
 full of mischievous fun, they began to shout and ges- 
 ticulate with the settled purpose of making matters 
 appear worse than they were, and of enjoying the 
 white man's discomfiture, — all but the i^atrao, who 
 was an old hand, and on whom depended the safety 
 of us alL He kept a steady look-out seaAvard, and 
 stood upright and firm, grasping his oar with both 
 hands. With him it was a point of honour to bring 
 the white men uitrusted to his care safely through 
 the surf. 
 
 We waited for more than half an hour, bow on, 
 meeting each roller as it came to us ; and by the end 
 of that time the unfortunate hquidator had evidently 
 given up all hope of ever reaching the shore. Luckily, 
 the worst was soon to pass. After one last tremen- 
 dous Avave there was a lull for a few moments, and 
 the pairao^ Avho had Avatched for such a chance, 
 swiftly turned the boat round, and giA'ing the Avord 
 to the creAv, they pulled lustily towards the shore. 
 In a fcAv minutes Ave Avere again in safety. The boat
 
 KING BEMBA'S point. 299 
 
 grounded on the beach ; the oars were tossed into the 
 sea ; the crew sprang overboard, some of them seized 
 the new arrival ; I clambered on the back of the 
 patrao ; a crowd of negroes, who had been waiting 
 on the beach, laid hold of the tow-rope of the boat, 
 and it and we were landed simultaneously on the dry- 
 sand. 
 
 Once on shore Mr Bransome, for that was the new 
 man's name, rapidly recovered his presence of mind 
 and manner, and, by way of covering his past confu- 
 sion, remarked that he supposed the surf was seldom 
 so bad as it then was. I replied in an off-hand way, 
 meaning to make fun of him, that what he had passed 
 through was nothing, and appealed to the jyatrao to 
 confirm Avhat I had said. That negro, seeing the 
 joke, grinned all over his black face ; and Mr Bran- 
 some, perceiving that he was being laughed at, 
 snatched a good-sized stick from a native standing 
 near, and struck the patrao repeatedly over the 
 back. 
 
 In vain Sooka, for that Avas the p)atrao's name, 
 protested, and demanded to know what wrong thing 
 he had done. The agent was furious, and showered 
 his blows upon the black. Equally in vain I shouted 
 that Sooka had done well by us, and that he, Mr 
 Bransome, was making an enemy of a man who 
 would have him now and then in his power. At 
 length Sooka took to his heels, and, sure enough, 
 when he had got a little way off, he began to
 
 300 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 threaten vengeance for what he had received. I 
 sympathised with him, for I knew what a loss to 
 his dignity it was to be beaten without cause before 
 his fellows, and I feared that Mr Bransome would 
 indeed be sorry, sooner or later, for what he had 
 done. 
 
 I now suggested to him, by way of diverting his 
 thoughts from poor Sooka, that standing on the beach 
 in Avet clothes was the very way to catch the coast 
 fever straight off, and he instantly suffered himself to 
 be carried up to the factory. There Jackson received 
 him in a sort of "who on earth are you?" manner; 
 and Mr Bransome, clearing his throat, announced 
 himself and his authority, adding that he intended 
 to make the factory a point of departure to all the 
 others on the coast ; then, very abruptly, he re- 
 quested Jackson to prepare quarters for him with- 
 out delay. 
 
 The change that came over Jackson's face as he 
 learnt the quality of the stranger and his requests was 
 great. The old salt, who had been king of his house 
 and of the Point for so long a time, had evidently 
 never even thought of the probability of such an in- 
 trusion as was now presented to him, and he was 
 amazed at what he considered to be the unwarrant- 
 able assurance of the stranger. However, he recov- 
 ered himself smartly, and asked the new man if he 
 had any written credentials. 
 
 *' Certainly," replied he, pulling out a document
 
 KING BEMBa'S point. 301 
 
 all wet with salt water. "Here is a letter from 
 Messrs Flint Brothers, of which, no doubt, you will 
 have a copy in your mail-bag." 
 
 Jackson took the letter and opened it, and seemed 
 to read it slowly to himself. All at once he started, 
 looked at the new agent, advanced a step or two to- 
 wards him, muttering, "Bransome, Bransome," then 
 stopped and asked him in a strange constrained voice, 
 " Is your name Bransome 1 " 
 
 "Yes," replied the latter, astonished at the old 
 man's question. 
 
 " I knew a Bransome once," said Jackson, steadily, 
 "and he was a scoundrel." 
 
 For a moment the two men looked at each other — 
 Jackson with a gleam of hatred in his eyes, while 
 Bransome had a curiously frightened expression on 
 his face, which blanched slightly. But he quickly 
 resumed his composure and peremptory way, and said, 
 " Show me a room ; I must get these wet things off 
 me." 
 
 As, however, he addressed himself this time to me 
 rather than to Jackson — who, indeed, regarded him 
 no longer, but stood with the letter loose in his hand, 
 looking at the floor of the room, as if in deep medi- 
 tation — I showed him into my own room, Avhere I 
 ordered his trunks to be brought. These, of course, 
 were wet; but he found some things in the middle 
 of them that were not more than slightly damp, and 
 with the help of a pair of old canvas trousers of
 
 302 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 mine he managed to make his appearance at dinner- 
 time. 
 
 Jackson was not at the meal. He had left the 
 house shortly after his interview with the new agent, 
 and had, I fancied, gone on one of his solitary- 
 rambles. At any rate he did not return until late 
 that night. 
 
 I thought Mr Bransome seemed to be somewhat 
 relieved when he saw that the old man was not com- 
 ing ; and he became more affable than I had expected 
 him to be, and relinquished his arrogant style alto- 
 gether when he began to question me about Jackson 
 — who he was? what had he been] how long he 
 had lived on the coast? To all which questions I 
 returned cautious answers, remembering that I was 
 under a promise to the old man not to repeat his 
 story. 
 
 By the next morning, to my surprise, Jackson ap- 
 peared to have become reconciled to the fact that he 
 had been superseded by a man who knew nothing of 
 the coast, and of his own accord he offered to tell Mr 
 Bransome the clues to the letter-locks on the doors of 
 the various store-rooms ; for we on the coast used 
 none but letter-locks, which are locks that do not 
 require a key to open them. But Mr Bransome ex- 
 pressed, most politely, a wish that Jackson shoidd 
 consider himself stUl in charge of the factory, 
 at any rate until the whole estate of the unfor- 
 tunate Flint Brothers could be wound up; and he
 
 KING BEMBAS PODsT. 303 
 
 trusted that his presence ■would make no difference 
 to hiuL 
 
 This was a change, on the part of both men, from 
 the manners of the previous day ; and yet I could 
 not help thinking that each but ill concealed his 
 aversion to the other. 
 
 Months now slipped away, and ^Ir Bransome was 
 occupied ia going up and down the coast in a little 
 steamer, shutting up factory after factory, transferring 
 their goods to ours, and getting himself much dis- 
 liked by all the Europeans under him, and hated by 
 the natives, especially by the boat- boys, who were 
 a race or tribe by themselves, coming from one par- 
 ticular part of the coast. He had of course been 
 obliged to order the dismissal of many of them, and 
 this was one reason why they hated him ; but the 
 chief cause was his treatment of Sooka, the patrao. 
 That man never forgave !Mr Bransome for beating 
 him so unjustly ; and the news of the deed had 
 travelled very quickly, as news does in savage coun- 
 tries, so that I think nearly all Sooka's countrymen 
 knew of the act and resented it. 
 
 ^Ir Bransome was quite unaware of the antipathy 
 he had thus created toward himself, except so far as 
 Sooka was concerned; and hiTn he never employed 
 when he had to go off to vessels or land from them, 
 but alwavs went in the other boat belonsring to the 
 factory, which was steered by a much younger negro. 
 In addition to hiimbling Sooka in this way. Bran-
 
 304 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 some took the opportunity of disgracing him when- 
 ever he conld do so. Tlierefore, one day when two 
 pieces of cloth from the cargo-room were found in 
 the "boatmen's huts, it was no surprise to me that 
 Sooka was at once fastened upon hy ]\Ir Bransome 
 as the thief who had stolen them, and that he was 
 tied to the floggmg-post in the middle of the yard, 
 and sentenced to receive fifty lashes with the cat 
 that was kept for such a purpose, and all without 
 any inquiry being made. In vain did the unfor- 
 tunate man protest his innocence. A swarthy Kroot- 
 boy from Cape Coast laid the cat on his brown 
 shoulders right willingly, for he also was an enemy 
 of Sooka's ; and in a few minutes the poor fellow's 
 flesh was cut and scored as if by a knife. 
 
 After the flogging was over, jNIr Bransome amused 
 himself by getting out his rifle and firing fancy shots 
 at Sooka, still tied to the post — that is, he tried to 
 put the bullets as close to the poor wretch as he 
 could without actually wounding him. To a negro, 
 with his dread of firearms, this was little short of 
 absolute torture, and at each discharge Sooka writhed 
 and crouched as close to the ground as he could, 
 while his wide-opened eyes and mouth, and face of 
 almost a slate colour, showed how terribly frightened 
 he was. To JNIr Bransome it appeared to be fine 
 sport, for he fired at least twenty shots at the man 
 before he shouldered his rifle and went indoors. Jack- 
 son said nothing to this stupid exhibition of temper,
 
 KING bemba's point 305 
 
 but as soon as it was over he had Sooka released ; 
 and I knew he attended to his wounds himself, and 
 poured friar' s-balsam into them, and covered his back 
 with a soft shirt — for all which, no doubt, the negro 
 was afterwards grateful. "Whether Mr Bransome got 
 to know of this, and was offended at it, I do not 
 know, but shortly afterwards he ceased to live 
 with us. 
 
 There was between the factory and the sea, and 
 a little to the right of the former, a small wooden 
 cottage which had been allowed to fall into a dilapi- 
 dated state from want of some one to live in it. This 
 Mr Bransome gave orders to the native carpenters to 
 repair and make weather-tight ; and when they had 
 done so, he caused a quantity of furniture to be 
 brought from St Paul de Loanda and placed within 
 it. Then he transferred himself and his baggage to 
 the cottage. 
 
 Jackson displayed complete indifference to this 
 change on the part of the agent. In fact there had 
 been, ever since the arrival of the latter upon the 
 Point, and in spite of apparent friendliness, a per- 
 ceptible breach, widening daily, between the two 
 men. As to the reason of this I had my own sus- 
 picions, for I had made the discovery that Jackson had 
 for some time past been drinking very heavily. 
 
 In addition to the brandy which we Avhite men 
 had for our own use, I had, to my horror, found out 
 that he was secretly drinking the coarse and fiery 
 
 T.s. — I. . u
 
 306 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 rum that was sold to the natives ; and as I remem- 
 bered the mutterings and moanings that had formerly- 
 alarmed me, I wondered that I had not guessed the 
 cause of them at the time ; but until the arrival of 
 Mr Bransome, Jackson had always kept charge of the 
 spirits himself, and he was such a secret old fellow 
 that there was no knowing what he had then taken, 
 Now that I was aware of his failing, I was very sorry 
 for the old sailor ; for on such a coast and in such a 
 climate there was only one end to it ; and although I 
 could not actually prevent him from taking the liquor, 
 I resolved to watch him, and if such symptoms as I 
 had seen before again appeared, to tell Mr Bransome 
 of them at all hazards. But I was too late to prevent 
 what speedily followed my discovery. It had come 
 about that the same mail-steamer that had brought 
 out Mr Bransome had again anchored off the Point, 
 and again the weather was coarse and lowering. A 
 stiff breeze had blown for some days, which made the 
 rollers worse than they had been for a long while. 
 Both Mr Bransome and Jackson watched the weather 
 with eager looks, but each was differently affected by 
 it. Bransome appeared to be anxious and nervous, 
 whilst Jackson was excited, and paced up and down 
 the verandah, and kept, strange to say, for it was 
 contrary to his late habit, a watch upon Bransome's 
 every movement. 
 
 Every now and then, too, he would rub his hands 
 together as if in eager expectation, and would chuckle
 
 KING bemba's point. 307 
 
 to himself as he glanced seawards. Of his own accord 
 he gave orders to Sooka to get both the surf-boats 
 ready for launching, and to make the boys put on 
 their newest loin-cloths ; and then, when everything 
 was in readiness, he asked Bransome if he was going 
 off to the steamer. 
 
 " I fear I must," said Bransome ; " but I — I don't 
 like the look of those cursed rollers." 
 
 At this Jackson laughed, and said something about 
 "being afraid of very little." 
 
 " The beach is perfectly good," he added ; " Sooka 
 knows, and Sooka is the oldest patrao on the 
 Point." 
 
 And Sooka, who was standing by, made a low 
 obeisance to the agent, and said " that the beach lived 
 for well," which was his way -of expressing m English 
 that the sea was not heavy. 
 
 At that moment a gun was fired from the steamer 
 as a signal to be quick, and Bransome said, " I will 
 go, but not in that black blackguard's boat ; it need 
 not come," — and he went down to the beach. 
 
 It was one of Jackson's rules, that when a boat 
 went tlirough the smi there should be some one to 
 watch it, so I walked to the end of the Point to see 
 the agent put off. He got away safely ; and I, seeing 
 Sooka's boat lying on the beach, and thinking that it 
 would be as well to have it hauled up under the boat- 
 shed, was on the point of returning to the factory to 
 give the necessary order, when, to my surprise, I saw
 
 308 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 the boat's crew rush down the beach to the boat and 
 begin to push it towards the sea. 
 
 I waved my arms as a signal to them to stop, but 
 they paid no attention to me ; and I saw them run 
 the boat into the water, jump into her, and pull 
 off, all singing a song to their stroke iia their own 
 language, the sound of which came famtly up to the 
 top of the Point. " Stupid fellows," I muttered to 
 myself, " they might have known that the boat was 
 not wanted ; " and I was again about to turn away, 
 when I was suddenly seized from behind, and carried 
 to the very edge of the cliff, and then as suddenly 
 released. 
 
 I sprang to one side, and turning round saw Jack- 
 son, with a look of such savage fury on his face, that 
 I retreated a step or two in astonishment at him. 
 He perceived my alarm, and burst out into a fit of 
 laughter, which, instead of reassuring me, had the 
 opposite effect, it was so demoniacal in character. 
 " Ha ! ha !" he laughed again, " are you frightened 1 " 
 and advancing towards me, he put his face close to 
 mine, peering into it with bloodshot eyes, while his 
 breath, reeking of spirits, j)oured into my nostrils. 
 
 Involuntarily I put up my arm to keep him off. 
 He clutched it, and pointing with his other hand to 
 the sea, whispered hoarsely, ""What do you hear of the 
 surf ] "WiU the breakers be heavier before sundown ? 
 See how they begin to curve ! Listen how they 
 already thunder, thunder, on the beach ! I tell you
 
 KING bemba's point. 309 
 
 they are impatient, — they seek some one," he shouted. 
 "Do you know," he continued, lowering his voice 
 again, and speaking almost confidentially, " sooner or 
 later some one is drowned upon that bar?" And 
 even as he spoke a fresh line of breakers arose from 
 the deep, further out than any had been before. 
 This much I observed, but I was too greatly un- 
 nerved by the strange manner of Jackson to pay 
 further heed to the sea. It had flashed across my 
 mind that he was on the verge of an attack of 
 delirium treiTiens, from the effects of the liquor he 
 had been consuming for so long, and the problem was 
 to get him back to the house quietly. 
 
 Suddenly a thought struck me. Putting my arm 
 within his, I said, as coolly as I could, " Never mind 
 the sea, Jackson ; let us have a matabicho " (our local 
 expression for a "drink"). He took the bait, and 
 came away quietly enough to the house. Once there, 
 I enticed him into the dining-room, and shutting to 
 the door quickly, I locked it on the outside, resolviug 
 to keep him there until Mr Bransome should retiurn ; 
 for, being alone, I was afraid of him. 
 
 Then I went back to the end of the Point to look 
 for the return of the two boats. "When I reached it 
 I saw that the rollers had increased in size in. the 
 short time that I had been absent, and that they 
 were breaking, one after another, as fast as they 
 coTild come shorewards — not pigmy waves, but great 
 walls of water that seemed from their height actu-
 
 310 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 ally to Avaver along their huge length before they 
 fell. 
 
 A siirf such as I had never yet seen had arisen. I 
 stood and anxiously watched through a glass the boats 
 at the steamer's side, and at length, to my relief, I 
 saw one of them leave her ; but as it came near, I 
 saw, to my surprise, that Mr Bransome was not in 
 the boat, and that it was not the one that Sooka 
 steered. Quickly it was overtaken by the breakers, 
 but escaped their power, and came in-shore on the 
 back of a majestic roller that did not break until 
 it was close to the beach, Avhere the boat was in 
 safety. 
 
 JSTot Avithout vague apprehension at his imprudence, 
 but still not anticipating any actual harm from it, I 
 thought that Mr Bransome had chosen to come back 
 in Sooka's boat, and I waited and waited to see it 
 return, although the daylight had now so waned that 
 I could no longer distinguish what Avas going on 
 alongside the steamer. At last I caught sight of the 
 boat, a white speck upon the waters, and, just as it 
 entered upon the dangerous part of the bar, I dis- 
 cerned, to my infinite amazement, that two figures 
 Avere seated in the stern, — a man and a Avoman — a 
 AA'hite Avoman ; I could see her dress fluttering in the 
 Avind, and Sooka's black figure standing behind her. 
 
 On came the boat, impelled by the SAvift floAving 
 seas, and for a quarter of an hour it Avas tossed on 
 the crests of the Avaves, Again and again it rose
 
 KING BEMBA'S POINT. 311 
 
 and sank with them as they came rolling in, but 
 somehoAv, after a little further time, it seemed to me 
 that it did not make such way towards the shore as 
 it should have done. 
 
 I lifted the glass to my eyes, and I saw that the 
 boys were hardly pulling at all, though the boat was 
 noAV close to the rocks that were near the cliff. JN'or 
 did Sooka seem to be conscious of a huge roller that 
 was swiftly approaching him. In my excitement I 
 was just on the point of shouting to warn those in 
 the boat of their danger, although I knew that they 
 could not understand Avhat I might say, when I saw 
 Jackson standing on the edge of the cliff, a little way 
 off, dressed in his shirt and trousers only. He had 
 escaped from the house ! He perceived that I saw 
 him, and came running up to me, and I threw myself 
 on my guard. However, he did not attempt to touch 
 me, but stopped and cried — 
 
 "Did I not tell you that somebody would be 
 drowned by those waves 1 Watch that boat ! watch 
 it ! it is doomed ; and the scoundrel, the villain, who 
 is in it will never reach the shore alive ! " and he 
 hissed the last word through his clenched teeth. 
 
 " Good God, Jackson ! " I said, " don't say that. 
 Look, there is a white woman in the boat ! " 
 
 At the words his jaw dropped, his form, which a 
 moment before had swayed with excitement, became 
 rigid, and his eyes stared at me as if he knew, but 
 comprehended not, what I had said. Then he slowly
 
 312 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 turned his face towards the sea, and as he did so, the 
 mighty breaker that had been coming up astern of 
 the boat curled over it. For a moment or two it 
 rushed forward, a solid body of water, carrying the 
 boat with it ; and in those moments I saw, to my 
 horror, Sooka give one sweep with his oar, which 
 threw the boat's side towards the roller. I saw the 
 boat-boys leap clear of the boat into the surf ; I saw 
 the agonised faces of the man and the woman upturned 
 to the wave above them, and then the billow broke, 
 and nothing was seen but a sheet of frothy water. 
 The boat and those in it had disappeared. For the 
 crew I had little concern — I knew they would come 
 ashore safely enough ; but for ]\Ir Bransome and 
 the Avoman, whoever she was, there was little hope. 
 They had not had time to throw themselves into the 
 sea before the boat had capsized, and their clothing 
 would sink them in such a surf, even if they had 
 escaped being crushed by the boat. Besides, I feared 
 there had been some foul play on the part of Sooka. 
 Quickly as he had done it, I had seen him with his 
 oar put the boat beyond the possibility of escaping 
 from the Avave, and I remembered how he had been 
 treated by Bransome. 
 
 With such thoughts I ran along the cliff to the 
 pathway that led down to the beach ; and as I ran, 
 I saw Jackson running before me, not steadily or 
 rightly, but heavily, and swa}dng from side to side 
 as he went. Quickly I passed him, but he gave no
 
 KING BEMBA'S point. 313 
 
 sign that he knew any one was near him ; and as I 
 leaped down on to the first ledge of rock below me, 
 I saw that he was not following me, but had dis- 
 appeared among the brushwood. 
 
 When I got down to the beach, I found that the 
 boat's crew had reached the shore in safety, but of 
 the two passengers nothing had been seen. The 
 capsized boat was sometimes visible as it lifted on the 
 rollers, but through my glass I saw that no one was 
 clinging to it. I called for Sooka, but Sooka was 
 missing. Every one had seen him land, but he had 
 disappeared mysteriously. In vain I questioned the 
 other boys as to the cause of the disaster. The only 
 answer I could get out of them was an appeal to look 
 at the sea and judge for myself. The woman was a 
 white woman from the big ship, was all they could 
 say about her; and, negro-like, they evidently con- 
 sidered the loss of a woman or so of very little con- 
 sequence. 
 
 All I could do was to set a watch along the beach 
 to look for the bodies when they should be washed 
 ashore, and this done, I returned to the factory. Mj 
 next desire was to find Sooka. He could hardly have 
 gone far, so I sent for a runner to take a message to 
 the native king under whose protection we on the 
 Pomt were, and after whom the Point was called, and 
 who was bound to find the missing man for me if he 
 could, or if he had not been bribed to let him pass. 
 
 In my sorrow at what had happened, and in my
 
 314 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 doubt as to the cause of it, I had forgotten all about 
 Jackson ; but after I had despatched my messenger 
 to the king, 1 went to look for him. I discovered 
 him crouching in a corner of his own bedroom in the 
 dark. 
 
 " Are they found 1 " he asked, in a voice so hollow 
 and broken that I hardly knew it ; and before I 
 could answer him, he whispered to himself, " 'No, no ; 
 they are dro"\vned — drowned." 
 
 I tried to lead him into the lighted dining-room, 
 but he only crouched the closer to his corner. At 
 length by the promise of the ever-potent temptation, 
 liquor, I got him to leave the room. He could 
 scarcely walk though, now, and he trembled so 
 violently that I was glad to give him part of a bottle 
 of brandy that I had by me. He filled a tumbler 
 half full of the spirits, and drank it off. This put 
 strength into him, and for a little he was calm ; but 
 as he again and again applied himself to the bottle, 
 he became drunk, and swore at me for my impudence 
 in giving orders without his sanction. On this I 
 tried to take the bottle from him, but he clutched it 
 so firmly that I had to let it go ; Avhereupon he im- 
 mediately put it to his lips and swallowed the rest of 
 the liquor that Avas in it. After which he gave a 
 chuckle, and staggered to a couch, on which he 
 tumbled, and lay with his eyes open for a long while. 
 At last he fell asleep, but I was too nervous to do 
 likewise, and sat watching him the most of the night :
 
 KING BEMBA'S point. 315 
 
 at least when I awoke it was daylight, and it seemed 
 to me that I had been asleep but a few minutes. 
 
 Jackson was still lying on the couch, and his face 
 was calm and peaceful as he softly breathed. The 
 morning too was line, and as I walked on to the 
 verandah I saw the sea sparkling in the sunlight, and 
 there was not a sound from it save a far-off and 
 drowsy mumiur. Not a sign remained on its broad 
 surface of the wrath of the day before. It was 
 wonderfully calm. Lying here and there on the 
 verandah, rolled up in their clothes, were the servants 
 of the factory, sleeping soundly on the hard planks. 
 
 Presently, as the sun rose in the heavens and 
 warmed the air, the place began to show signs of life, 
 and one of the watch that I had set on the beach 
 came running across the yard to tell me that the 
 bodies had come ashore. 
 
 Immediately upon hearing this I called the ham- 
 mock-bearers together, and going down to the beach, 
 I went a considerable way along it towards a dark 
 spot, which I knew to be a group of natives. On 
 coming up to the group, I found at least fifty negroes 
 collected round the drowned man and woman, all 
 chattering and squabbling amongst themselves, and 
 probably over the plunder, for I saw that the bodies 
 had been stripped to their underclothing. Eushing 
 into the crowd, with the aid of a stick I dispersed it, 
 so far as to make the wretches stand back. The man 
 of course was Bransome, there was no doubt as to
 
 316 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 that, although he had received a terrible blow on the 
 left temple, most likely from the pointed stem of the 
 boat as it had toppled over upon him, and his face 
 was distorted and twisted to one side. The woman 
 was evidently English, young and pretty, although 
 her long hair, heavy and wet, was polluted by the 
 sand that stuck to it, and her half-open eyes were 
 filled Avitli the same. On her lips there lingered a 
 slight smile. She was of middle height, of slender 
 figure, and delicately nurtured, as the small bare feet 
 and little hands showed. As I looked at the latter I 
 saw a wedding-ring on her finger, and I thought, " it 
 is Bransome's wife." I tried to take the ring away, 
 but it woidd not come off her finger — which I might 
 have known, because the natives would not have left 
 it there had they been able to remove it. I then 
 ordered the bearers to lay the bodies in the ham- 
 mocks; and that done, our little party wended its 
 way along the shore homewards, while the natives I 
 had dispersed followed one after another in African 
 fashion. 
 
 Arrived at the factory, I bade the boys place the 
 bodies side by side on a spare bed in an empty room, 
 and then I sent them to dig a grave in the little 
 burial-ground on the Point, where two or three worm- 
 eaten wooden crosses marked the resting-places of 
 former agents of IMessrs Flint Brothers. 
 
 As quick interment was necessary in such a climate, 
 even on that very day, I went to call Jackson in order
 
 KING BEMBA'S point. 317 
 
 that he might perform the duty that was his — that 
 of reading the burial-service over the dead, and of 
 sealing up the desk and effects of Mr Bransome. 
 But Jackson was not in the factory. I guessed, 
 however, where he was; and sure enough I found 
 him in his accustomed haunt at the end of the Point. 
 The moment he saw me he tried to hide himself 
 among the brushwood, but I was too quick for him, 
 and spied him as he croitched behind a dwarf palm. 
 
 " I know, I know," he cried, as I ran up to him ; 
 " I saw you come along the beach. Bury them, bury 
 them out of sight." 
 
 " Come, Mr Jackson," I replied, " it isn't fair to 
 put aU the trouble on to me. I am sure I have had 
 enough of the weariness and anxiety of this sad 
 business. You must take your share of it. I want 
 you to read the service for the dead over them." 
 
 " j^o, no," he almost shrieked ; " bury them quick ; 
 never mind me. Put them out of sight." 
 
 "I will not," I said, resolutely. "For your own 
 sake you must, at any rate, view the bodies." 
 
 "They have not been murdered?" he replied. 
 But the startled look with which I received the 
 suggestion his words implied, seemed to make him 
 recollect himself, for he rose and took my arm with- 
 out saying more. As he did so, I felt for the first 
 time a sort of repugnance towards him. Up to that 
 moment my feeling had been one of pity and anxiety 
 on his account, but now I loathed him. This he
 
 318 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 seemed instinctively to feel, and he clung closely 
 to me. 
 
 Once at the factory I determined that there should 
 he no more delay on his part, and I took him to the 
 door of the room where the bodies had been laid, but 
 at it he made a sudden halt and would not enter. 
 Covering his face with his hands, he trembled vio- 
 lently as I pushed the door open and advanced to 
 the bedside. The room, hushed and in semi-darkness 
 — the white sheet, whose surface showed too plainly 
 the forms beneath it — and the scared, terrified face 
 of the man who, with brain a-fire, stood watching, 
 with staring eyes, the bed, — made a scene I have 
 never forgotten. 
 
 Slowly I turned down the upper part of the sheet, 
 and Jackson, as if fascinated by the act, advanced 
 a step or two into the room, but with face averted. 
 Gradually he turned it towards the bodies, and for 
 a moment his gaze rested upon them. The next 
 instant he staggered forward, looked at the woman's 
 face, panted for breath once or twice, and then, with 
 uplifted hands and a wild cry of " Lucy ! " fell his 
 length upon the floor. "N^Tien I stooped over him 
 he was in convidsions, and dark matter was oozing 
 out of his mouth. The climax had come. I shouted 
 for the servants, and they carried him to his own 
 room, and placed him on his own bed. 
 
 How I got through that day I hardly know. Alone 
 I buried Bransome and his wife, and alone I returned
 
 KING BEMBA'S point. 319 
 
 from the hurried task to watch by Jackson's bedside, 
 i^one of the natives would stay near him. For two 
 days he lay unconscious. At the end of that time 
 he seemed to have some idea of the outside world, 
 for his eyes met mine with intelligence in their look, 
 and on bending over him I heard him whisper, " For- 
 give me ! " Then he relapsed into unconsciousness 
 again. Through the long hours his eyes remained 
 ever open and restless ; he could not eat, nor did he 
 sleep, and I was afraid he would pass away through 
 weakness without a sign, being an old man. On the 
 third day he became delirious, and commenced chatter- 
 ing and talking to himself, and imagining that all kinds 
 of horrid shapes and creatures were around and near 
 him. I had to watch him narrowly in order to pre- 
 vent him stealing out of his bed, which he was ready 
 to do at any moment to avoid the tortures which 
 he fearfully imagined awaited him. By these signs 
 I knew that he was in the middle of an attack of 
 delirium tremens, and I tried to quiet him by means 
 of laudanum, but it had no effect upon him. I got 
 him, however, to swallow a little soup, which sus- 
 tained him. My own boy was the only negro I had 
 been able to induce to stay in the room, and he would 
 only remain in it while I was there. 
 
 I had sent a messenger to the nearest station, where 
 I remembered there was a Portuguese doctor ; but he 
 had not returned by the evening of the fourth day. 
 That night, worn out with watching, I had dozed
 
 320 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 off to sleep on a chair, placed by the sick man's bed, 
 ■when all at once I was awakened by a loud report, 
 and I jumped up to find the room filled with smoke. 
 As it cleared away I saw that Jackson was standing 
 in the middle of the room with a revolver in his 
 hand. As I confronted him he laughed a devilish 
 laugh and cocked the weapon, crying as he did so, 
 " It was you who tempted me with your smooth face 
 and unsuspicious way, and you shall die, though I 
 suffer doubly in hell for it. Hist ! " and he stopped 
 suddenly and listened. "Don't you hear the breakers ! 
 Hark! how they roar. They say they are ready, 
 always ready," and staring in front of him, he 
 advanced, as if following the sign of an invisible 
 hand, to the door, tinconsciously placing, to my 
 infinite rehef, the revolver on the top of a chest 
 of drawers as he passed by it. I did not dare to 
 move, and he opened the door and walked into the 
 front room. Then I followed him. For a little he 
 remained in the room, glaring vacantly about him, 
 and muttering to himself ; but seemg the outer door 
 open he made a rush towards it, and disappeared into 
 the darkness of the night. Calling to the boy, I ran 
 after him, and easily came up to him, when he turned, 
 and picking up a heavier stone than I thought he 
 could have lifted, threw it at me. I dodged it and 
 closed with him. Once in my arms I found I could 
 hold him, and my servant and I carried him back 
 into the factory. We placed him on the floor of the
 
 KIXG BEMBA'S POINT. 321 
 
 dining-room, and he was too exhausted to move for 
 a while. By degrees, however, he recovered suf- 
 ficiently to stand ; and as soon as he could do so 
 by himself, with devilish cunning, he made for the 
 lamp, which he struck, quick as hghtning, Avith a 
 stick that had been lying on the table. In an instant 
 the great round globe fell to pieces, but luckily the 
 chimney was not broken, and the lamp remained 
 alight, and before he could strike another blow at it 
 I had grappled with him again. This time he 
 struggled violently for a few moments, and seemed 
 to think that he was dealing with Bransome, for 
 he shrieked, "What! have you come back from the 
 sea 1 You are wet ! you are wet ! " and shuddering, 
 he tried to free himself from my hold; and I, not 
 liking to hurt him, let him go, taking care to keep 
 myself between him and the lamp. 
 
 "Back from me, you villain of heU ! " he cried, as 
 soon as he was free. " What have you done with 
 her 1 Avhat have you done with her 1 " And then, 
 in a tone of weird and pathetic sorrow, " Where is 
 my little one that I loved ? I have sought her many 
 a year ; oh, why did she forsake me 1 Aha, Sooka ! 
 we were right to send him to the hell whence he 
 came- — the lying, false-hearted scoundrel, to steal 
 away my white dove ! " 
 
 After which he drew from his finger a solid gold 
 ring which he always wore and threw it from him, 
 saying, with a wild laugh, " There ! that's for any 
 
 T.s. — I. X
 
 322 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 one that likes it ; I'm a dead man." He then stag- 
 gered towards his own room, and I, remembering the 
 loaded revolver which still lay on the chest of drawers, 
 tried to intercept him. In his rage, for I verily believe 
 that he also remembered that the weapon was there, 
 he spat in my face, and struck me with all his force 
 between the eyes ; but I stuck to him, and with the 
 help of the boy, who had been all this time in hiding, 
 but who came forward at my call, I laid him for the 
 last time upon his bed. There he lay exhausted for 
 the remainder of the night ; but there was no rest for 
 me,- — I felt that I had to watch him now for my own 
 safety. 
 
 Towards morning, however, his breathing became, 
 all at once, very heavy and slow, and I bent over 
 him in alarm. As I did so, I heard him sigh faintly, 
 " Lucy ! " and at that moment the native boy softly 
 placed something upon the bed. I took it up. It 
 was the ring the sick man had thrown away in the 
 night, and as I looked at it I saw "James, from 
 Lucy" engraved on its inside surface, and I knew 
 that the dead woman was his wife. 
 
 As the first faint streaks of dawn stole into the room, 
 the slow-drawn breathing of the dying man ceased. 
 I listened — it came again — once — twice — and then 
 all was sUence. He was dead, and I realised in the 
 sudden stillness that had come upon the room that I 
 Avas alone. Yet he had passed away so quietly after 
 his fitful fever that I could not bring myself to be-
 
 KING bemba's point. 323 
 
 lieve that he was really gone, and. I stood looking at 
 the body, fearing to convince myself of the truth by 
 touching it. 
 
 So entranced was I by that feeling of awe which 
 comes to almost every one in the presence of death, 
 that I did not hear the shouting of the hammock- 
 boy outside, or the footsteps of a white man coming 
 into the room ; and not until he touched me on the 
 shoulder did I turn and recognise the sallow face of 
 the Portuguese doctor whom I had sent for, and who 
 had thus arrived too late. However, he served to 
 help me to bury the mortal part of Jackson in the 
 little graveyard beside the body of his wife, and that 
 of the man who had come between them when alive. 
 And such was without doubt the fact ; for when the 
 doctor had gone, and I was alone again, I collected 
 and made an inventory of the dead men's effects, and 
 in Jackson's desk I found his diary, or, as he himself 
 would have called it, his logj and in that log was 
 noted, on the very day that Eransome had arrived on 
 the Point, his suspicion of the man, and later on his 
 conviction that Bransome was indeed he who had in- 
 jvu'ed him. 
 
 Sooka was never found ; but when the mail- 
 steamer returned from the south coast, I discovered 
 that the younger patrao had made his crew row away 
 suddenly from the steamer's side, while Mr Bransome 
 had been engaged below, and was out of sight. So 
 it was evident that the pair had been in league to-
 
 324 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 gether to insure Sooka his revenge. "What share 
 Jackson had had in the miu'der of his enemy, I did 
 not care to think of, but feared the worst. 
 
 For myself, I had to remain on the Point for many 
 months, until the factory was finally closed — for no 
 purchaser was ever found for it; and doubtless, by 
 this time, the buildings are in ruins, and long grass 
 hides the graves of those who sleep upon King Bem- 
 ba's Point.
 
 A VENDETTA. 
 
 BY MISS KATHARINE M. LUMSDEN. 
 
 IMAGA. March 1884.] 
 
 HOW it began, wlao began it, when the first note 
 of battle Avas sounded, what were the scene, 
 place, and occasion of the first exchange of hostilities, 
 remains to this day a mystery. Some are inclined to 
 think that at a certain dinner-party ]\Irs Highty, who 
 belongs to a notoriously short-sighted family, trod un- 
 wittingly and unwarily on ]\Irs Tighty's long velvet 
 tail as the latter lady was being conducted before her 
 into the dining-room. But this theory would make 
 the Highty faction decidedly the first aggressors. 
 Xow it is well known and even written in the chron- 
 icles of the Highty family, — vide a long letter in the 
 possession of the present compiler of this veracious 
 history, — that up to and even beyond the period 
 of the lamentable accident before mentioned, and 
 for which Mrs Highty declares she made ample 
 apology, the Hightys and Tightys were the closest
 
 326 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 of friends. Therefore the injury to the velvet 
 train may be dismissed as irrelevant to the present 
 inquiry. 
 
 But that a screw was loose somewhere between 
 these two highly respected and hitherto united fam- 
 ilies Avas soon apparent to the most unobservant 
 member of our Blankshire society. It may be neces- 
 sary here to mention that ]\Irs Tighty, being the 
 daughter of a viscovint, was naturally the guiding star 
 of our dinner-parties, unless it chanced that a meteor 
 in the person of an actual peeress sailed for a brief 
 space across oi;r firmament, or, as once happened, that 
 a Yon appeared to contest the claim to precedence of 
 the Hon. The perplexity and embarrassment into 
 which we were all thrown by this last complication I 
 shaU never forget. "We knew the touchiness of the 
 real foreign aristocracy when there was any danger of 
 their being confounded with the sham counts and 
 countesses whom we would have repudiated as haugh- 
 tily as themselves. But though there was no doubt 
 about our having now to deal with a genuine article, 
 there was no end of doubt as to its claims to rival 
 in pedigree our own indigenous production. Under 
 these puzzling circumstances we were everlastingly 
 grateful to IMrs Tighty for the graceful manner in 
 which she at once abdicated in favour of the stranger, 
 remarking that the laws of hospitality must always 
 supersede those of etiquette. This observation, espe- 
 cially as our German guest did not hear, or at least
 
 A VENDETTA. 327 
 
 did not understand it, immediately relieved us from 
 our dilemma, and also considerably increased Mrs 
 Tiglity's popularity. 
 
 For we all liked her, much better than we liked 
 Mrs Highty, who, as a baronet's daughter, and hold- 
 ing second, though only second rank in our society, 
 Avas a much more sulphurous element in the composi- 
 tion of our dinner-parties. Mrs Tiglity's place was 
 known and assured, always excepting under the 
 before-mentioned circumstances, which did not often 
 occur ; besides, when they did occur, she had only 
 to be taken down one peg lower, and all was right. 
 But Mrs Highty was always getting in the way. If 
 we asked her to dinner, we must be sure that there 
 was somebody to hand her, not inferior, or not much 
 inferior, in consequence to the personage whose right 
 it was to escort Mrs Tighty. In the drawing-room 
 there must be a sort of tlirone or seat, just half a step 
 lower, as it were, ready for Mrs Highty to sink into 
 at the same moment that Mrs Tighty took the chair 
 of state reserved for her on the other side of the fire- 
 place. The anxious hostess or her daughter had to be 
 on the watch that coffee was handed to Mrs Highty 
 before any one of lower rank got a chance of it. The 
 Highty and Tighty carriages must be announced as 
 nearly as possible at the same moment ; and in wish- 
 ing her guests farewell, the hostess must be careful to 
 measure out her gratitude for the favour conferred by 
 their visit in nicely balanced proportion. In fact.
 
 328 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 she liad not a moment's peace until tlioy -were both 
 safely out of the house. 
 
 It will be readily understood, therefore, that when 
 it began to be seen that the two ladies declined to 
 meet one another the relief was immense. Formerly 
 it was thought to be a necessary compliment to the 
 one to ask the other to bear her company, and hence 
 all the tribulation which I have been describing. 
 'Now we were free from this obligation, and might eat 
 our dinners and pass our evenings in comfort. 
 
 Alas ! how short-lived was our joy ! In the first 
 place, we soon found that now we must give two 
 parties in place of one. If Mrs Highty was asked to 
 dinner this week, her rival must be invited the next, 
 and, which was still more troublesome, repasts of 
 equal splendour and guests of equal distinction must 
 be provided for both entertainments. For though 
 the two ladies might pass each other when they did 
 chance to meet with so slight a mutual recognition as 
 might be supposed to denote the utmost indifference 
 to each other's existence, we knew very well from 
 authentic sources of intelligence, that each was de- 
 voured by a jealous curiosity to hear the smallest 
 details of the party given in honour of the other. 
 And as it was next to impossible that both parties 
 should be precisely alike in their histories and com- 
 bination, we Avere constantly giving offence. The 
 plot, in fact, was thickening, though not one of us 
 could have told what wa.s the thread of the story in
 
 A VENDETTA. 329 
 
 "which, as in a labj'rinth of cross-purposes, we were 
 becoming involved, and a feud Avhich threatened to 
 undermine the whole fabric of our society Avas slowly 
 but surely spreading. For I need hardly point out 
 that, whereas we had at one time laboriously but not 
 unsuccessfully tried to be loyal to a joint monarchy, 
 we now naturally took part with one or the other 
 sovereign. The people invited to meet IMrs Tighty 
 were very apt to think that their banquet was less 
 sumptuous than that given a few days before to the 
 hostile faction of Highty. And thus things went on 
 until there was hardly a house in our part of the 
 county in which the old pleasant relations had not 
 been altered, and into which envy, malice, and un- 
 charitableness had not found their way. 
 
 Matters were in this condition when a modest little 
 villa in our neighbourhood, which was usually let to 
 summer lodgers, was taken by a lady of whom noth- 
 ing more Avas knoAvn than that her name was Mrs 
 Smith. Soon, however, our ignorance was dispelled. 
 At first none of us had thought of even calling on her. 
 But a certain old lady who, if she had not been too 
 old and infirm to go out visiting, would rightfully 
 have taken precedence even of the Hon. Mrs Tighty, 
 and who sometimes saAV company at home, invited us 
 all to a great luncheon-party, at which, to our amaze- 
 ment and even consternation, Ave beheld a modest- 
 looking, shabbily dressed little Avoman, handed to the 
 luncheon-table by our hostess herself. This Avas her
 
 330 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 way of indicating the personage whom she considered 
 of most consequence amongst her guests ; and so Avell 
 versed was she known to be in the laws of etiquette, 
 that her preference of any one to such an honour was 
 always accepted as a sort of social diploma of rank. 
 And on this occasion who should the upstart be 
 before Avhora even ]\Iesdames Highty and Tighty had 
 to veil their haughty crests, but this most insignifi- 
 cant and unknown Mrs Smith ! 
 
 We were all stupefied. AYas the stranger a 
 duchess or princess in disguise, or — could our 
 benevolent but slightly eccentric hostess design to 
 teach us all a lesson on the vanity of human great- 
 ness 1 If so, she had wofully mistaken her women. 
 Already ]\Irs Highty's brow was black, and even the 
 less combustible Mrs Tighty was beginning to swell 
 Avith injured dignity. We onlookers were perhaps 
 inclined after the first shock to enjoy the joke ; but 
 we all felt sorry for poor INIrs Smith, on whom had 
 been thrust this perilous distinction. If the idea of 
 calling on the solitary denizen of Ivy Cottage had 
 been about to suggest itself to any one, seeing that 
 
 Lady had already taken compassion on her, it 
 
 must now be completely abandoned. We had enough 
 to do Avith our two factions. Which of us would 
 venture to tackle this third bone of contention 1 As 
 
 for Lady 's unaccountable caprice, we could only 
 
 ascribe it to the weakness of advancing age. 
 
 But we were wrong. The old lady knew what she
 
 A VENDETTA. 331 
 
 was about, and guessed, moreover, what was in our 
 minds. When luncheon was over, but before we rose 
 from table, she claimed silence, and announced that 
 she was going to propose a toast. "VVe were accus- 
 tomed to her kindly, old-fashioned ways, but we now 
 felt that something more was coming than the usual 
 health to absent friends, or mention of the brave son 
 in India, of whose glories we were scarcely less proud 
 than his fond old mother. We had seen some 
 whispering between her and her unknown guest, 
 
 and some putting aside, as it seemed, on Lady 's 
 
 part of an argument or remonstrance from Mrs Smith. 
 "JS'onsense, nonsense, my dear," she was heard to 
 say; "I want everybody to know." Then she took 
 her glass in hand, and spoke. 
 
 " My good friends, you know you never leave my 
 table without kindly joining his old mother in wishing 
 health to my dear son, who is still far away from us. 
 But to-day I want you to drink health — even before 
 we speak of John — to Major Smith, the husband of 
 this lady Avhom I've now the pleasure of introducing 
 to you. And I'm sure you'll do so heartily when I 
 tell you that he's the Major Smith who distinguished 
 
 himself so at the battle of ; and he's the 
 
 man who saved my boy's life, and who got the Victoria 
 Cross ; and he's been made a C.B. — and he'll be a 
 
 K.C.B., I haven't a doubt, if " but here her 
 
 words were drowned in a tempest of applause. To 
 be sure, Ave had all heard of the brave Major Smith,
 
 332 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 and -we were all delighted to drink Lis health and to 
 see his wife. And after this there could be no doubt 
 about our calling on her, and asking her to our parties 
 and everything. 
 
 This was all very well, and through the following 
 week carriages and cards poured down on Ivy Cottage. 
 But human nature remains human nature, and eti- 
 quette remains etiquette, and precedence is a prize 
 not to be lightly relinquished. So, could it be ex- 
 pected that ]\Irs Tighty, not to speak of jMrs Highty, 
 could meekly resign the honours hitherto held so 
 undisputedly — except between themselves — without 
 a struggle? 
 
 I need not say with what untiring zeal we discussed 
 the question amongst ourselves as to whether a C.B.'s 
 wife ought or ought not to walk before a baronet's or 
 a peer's daughter. "Peerages " are expensive books, 
 as everybody knows, and none of us were very rich. 
 But to my certain knowledge there was a sudden 
 importation of red books into the country ; and those 
 who had none, and grudged buying them, made long 
 pilgrimages, as in olden times, to some shrine where 
 a sight might be procured of the sacred volume. Yet 
 even then we were not quite happy. The V.C. com- 
 plicated the matter. Also, did not the service done 
 
 to Lady 's gallant son, our own county hero, 
 
 increase the weight of our responsibilities? We 
 thought and talked, we studied tables of precedence, 
 we wrote to the ' Queen,' getting back snubbing
 
 A VENDETTA. 333 
 
 answers for our pains, and "being dreadfully afraid 
 lest our friends should pierce the mystery of our 
 pseudonym, and laugh at us for doing what they 
 were perhaps going to do themselves. We tried to 
 invent new ways of paying due reverence to our 
 three luminaries, and keeping them from falling foul 
 of each other and producing general chaos. And in 
 the midst of all this commotion we heard that Mrs 
 Highty and Mrs Tighty had been reconciled to each 
 other, and were making common cause against the 
 intruder on their rights. This, at least, was one 
 good thing, even though it did not help us much in 
 our difficulties. 
 
 As for Mrs Smith, she seemed strangely indifferent 
 to the honours thrust upon her. This was a little 
 exasperating, considering the trouble she was giving 
 us. On the whole, we did not care much for her, 
 though she was inoffensive enough. It was incon- 
 venient, too, to be obliged often to include her little 
 girl in our invitations. ]Mrs Smith would not come 
 either to luncheon or garden party witliout bringing 
 her little daughter. She excused this on the ground 
 that she had no nurse or governess with whom to 
 leave the child, who was, I must also say, a well- 
 behaved, good little thing, easily amused, and perfectly 
 happy if allowed to sit quietly by her mother's knee. 
 The two were devoted to each other, and if we 
 thought Mrs Smith rather stupid and commonplace, 
 we could not but commend her training of her child.
 
 334 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 After some little time the ferment of our hospitality 
 subsided, much I think to Mrs Smith's relief. She 
 was allowed to remain quietly with little Bessie at 
 Ivy Cottage, and make herself happy with the child 
 in her own way. Then as no third neutralising 
 element interposed between the two previously con- 
 tending forces, we began to be afraid of a resumption 
 of hostilities. But Mrs Highty and Mvs Tighty had 
 been driven into each other's arms by stress of adverse 
 circumstances, and coidd not all at once retreat from 
 the friendship Avhich had been re-established with so 
 much apparent cordiality. But our experienced eyes 
 could see that each lady had her high horse standing 
 ominously near, and was prepared on the smallest 
 provocation to mount that warlike steed; and we 
 felt that, after all, the termination of such a hollow 
 truce must soon be. looked for. 
 
 Suddenly one day a rumour spread amongst us. 
 It was Mrs Highty who brought me the first news. 
 Mrs Tighty was sitting with me at the time, and I 
 remember that my first feeling when my new visitor 
 was shown in was dismay at the impossibility of pro- 
 viding her with a comfortable chair unless ]\Irs Tighty 
 vacated the one which with some trouble I had pro- 
 vided for her, for I was about to change my house, 
 and my rooms were being dismantled of furniture. 
 And as the Highty equipage drew up at my door, 
 I had seen Mrs Tighty settle herself still more stiffly 
 and squarely in her arm-chair. What was I to do ?
 
 A VENDETTA. 335 
 
 But before I had time to stammer out the apology 
 I had been hastily devising, Mrs Highty sat down on 
 a three-legged stool that somebody had brought from 
 the kitchen. " Oh," she exclaimed, " what do you 
 think ! Poor dear little Bessie Smith has taken diph- 
 theria. She's very ill, and her poor mother is help- 
 less with terror. I've just been at Ivy Cottage and 
 seen her. She's absolutely stupefied. She says the 
 child never had a day's ilhiess before. I've offered 
 to get a nurse for her, for I believe Mrs Smith is too 
 bewildered to know what she's doing." 
 
 It was too true. Soon we heard that the child 
 was sinking. There was no Avant of help, if human 
 help covild have saved her. The mother could only 
 sit by her as if her mute agony of clinging love covild 
 baffle the fate that was to separate them. But doctor, 
 nurse, and pitying friends were all at hand, and every- 
 thing that could be done was done — in vain. 
 
 During these brief but most sorrowful three days 
 there was scarcely an hour of the day during which 
 one or other of us was not at Ivy Cottage. It was 
 absolutely necessary that some one should take charge 
 not only of the sick-room, but of the miserable, para- 
 lysed mother. We relieved one another. Mrs Highty 
 and Mrs Tighty took their turns of watching and 
 attendance, and shared with one another the duty of 
 providing the proper stunulants and nourishment 
 which Mrs Smith was unable to think of. And as 
 they had been foremost in efforts to save her, they
 
 336 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD," 
 
 stood nearest one another when we followed little 
 Bessie to her quiet grave. 
 
 Mrs Smith rejoined her husband in India. There 
 was rejoicing amongst us last year when we heard 
 that another daughter had been sent to comfort them. 
 jMrs Highty and j\Irs Tighty are the two godmothers. 
 
 I do not say that between these ladies there never 
 arises a shade of animosity which reminds one of the 
 old vendetta. But they are good Churchwomen both ; 
 and as every Sunday they walk up the churchyard 
 path and pass the little grave on which each so often 
 places fresh memorial flowers, the sight of it must, I 
 think, help them to begin another week at least in 
 mutual charity and goodwill. 
 
 "Was it for this that the child came amongst us 1
 
 MASTER TOMMY'S EXPEEIMENT: 
 
 A HEATHEK-BUENING STORY. 
 
 BY GILFRID W. HARTLEY. 
 
 [MAGA. August 1S83.] 
 
 ONE breezy morning in late March, the factor, his 
 grieve, and a couple of keepers stood on an 
 occupation road, at a gate leading out on to a great 
 stretch of moorland. The heather was black in many- 
 places, or rather there were black spots and long 
 lanes running through the heather, showing where 
 it had been recently burnt, and the men were dis- 
 cussing the advisability of continuing their work and 
 burning more. The Avind was so high, and the ling 
 which came next in turn was so dry and parched by 
 it, helped by occasional blmks of a March sim, that 
 the keeper was afraid the fire might get " the head 
 of them," and burn more than would be good for his 
 department : and the forester, Avho arrived shortly 
 after the discussion began, concurred in these views. 
 T.s. — I. Y
 
 338 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 But the grieve, a man of weight, both in opinion and 
 substance, vehemently scoffed at the possibility of 
 such a thing happening. " We've plenty of hands," 
 he said ; " the season is getting on, and we've still 
 lots to do, and if we don't do it now, we shan't do it 
 at all this year — that's my opinion." "When the head 
 keeper suggested that even if half the moor was 
 burnt, he, the grieve, would not be much put out, 
 that official threw the taunt aside with a grunt, and 
 fixed his eyes on the factor, awaiting his decision. 
 And the factor, being interested in the keeper's 
 grouse and the grieve's sheep, as well as in the plan- 
 tation which the forester was always trying to per- 
 suade his master to make on part of that hillside, 
 considered the matter fairly and dispassionately, and 
 thus gave it : " We'll try it, anyhow, and we'll take 
 plenty of men." Then the grieve blew a joyous 
 whistle, putting a forefuiger of each hand in his 
 mouth, causing to issue thence a shrill sound, which 
 went far over hill and dale ; and in a short time a 
 goodly array of men appeared from all parts of the 
 compass — from the steading below, and from various 
 bothies and cottages round, some of them fmishing 
 their breakfasts as they arrived, and all armed with 
 one or two long switches of birch, called technically 
 "beaters," or "trees." They, too, had been discuss- 
 ing the wind, uncertain as to what would prove the 
 order of the day ; but when it came they came also, 
 like good soldiers, keeping their private opinions to
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPEEIMENT. 339 
 
 tliemselveSj whatever tliey might be — or at all events, 
 not obtruding them upon their betters. 
 
 This small army, twenty or so in number, climbed 
 the hill above them, and soon reached the place where 
 the day's work was to commence. The factor lit a 
 match — the wind had it out in. a second, but not be- 
 fore the thin white grass, to which it was applied, 
 caught fire. The grieve thrust a long withered 
 bunch of heather into the young flame, and in a few 
 seconds ran out a line of fire twenty yards long. 
 The men ranged themselves up against it, and with 
 their birch switches beat out the flame on the wind- 
 ward side, — not always easy work, for it ran through 
 the imdergrowth with wonderful quickness, and care, 
 and sometimes a few minutes' hard work, was neces- 
 sary to prevent it spreading in a Avrong direction. 
 In an hour, a very long line of fire was established, 
 ever eating up against the breeze, crackling and sput- 
 tering, and reducing to soft black powder or burnt 
 stalks everything that came in its way. Then — 
 when this line was four or five feet wide — the 
 heather, fifty yards off, was kindled in a parallel, and 
 a rush of red flame and grey dense smoke tore over 
 the strip, raging and fuming Avith irresistible fury till 
 it reached the black boundary, where it immediately 
 died harmlessly out. The first line was ever carried 
 on well in advance of the second, and before mid-day 
 a long black trail was left behind, carried up hill and 
 down dale, straight and even, measured and kept in
 
 340 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 check by careful eyes trained and experienced in such 
 work. The men had brought what they called "a 
 dry piece" with them, and the factor supplied the 
 moisture which they considered necessary for its 
 proper digestion— whisky. They all had a glass at 
 dinner-time, and about six o'clock were preparing for 
 another as a strengthener for the last hour's work, 
 when an accident happened which made them all 
 change their plans, and prevented many an honest 
 fellow from eating his porridge at home that night, 
 or sleeping in his own bed. 
 
 That morning Master Tommy, aged ten, son of the 
 laird, went through the programme which he had for 
 some time chalked out for hunself as being necessary. 
 He hid himself in a barn, then in a shrubbery, was 
 discovered, admonished, howled, had his ears boxed, 
 and then consented to set out on his daily visit to 
 the kind minister who was teaching him Latin — a 
 governess accomjianying him to the gate of the manse, 
 and watching him safely inside the door. Master 
 Tommy had not advanced far enough into the mys- 
 teries of the noble language to become greatly en- 
 amoured of it ; and never had the verb " amo " 
 seemed more hollow to him, or more meaningless, 
 than on that fine March morning. On the previous 
 day — a half-holiday — he had, for the first time, as- 
 sisted at the annual ceremony of " muir-burn." A 
 good-natured keeper had got him a birchen switch 
 suitable to his age and dimensions, and Tommy, most
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPERIMENT. 341 
 
 exceedingly to his edification, had spent three hours 
 in thrasliing away at any bit of flame he could reach. 
 He got greatly in the way of everybody. jSTow and 
 then he tumbled into a hag, and had to be pulled 
 out. Two or three times he lost himself in the 
 smoke, and annoimced his condition to all whom it 
 might concern with wild and mournful howls. He 
 was voted a nuisance by every one on the hill ; but 
 this did not lessen his enjoyment in the least, and he 
 was much put out when the last flames were extin- 
 cuished, and he was told the fun was over for the 
 day. Then he went home ; and a more grimy, 
 smoky urchin never entered his father's house. His 
 clothes were torn and his face black, and he carried 
 ■with him into the drawing-room an atmosphere which 
 caused him to be promptly ejected, a housemaid 
 being sent in chase, Avith orders to severely wash 
 him. When the process had been carried out — not 
 without much kicking — and the soap was well from 
 his eyes, he informed her that burning heather was 
 the grandest sport in which he had ever engaged, and 
 that for his part, when he became a man, he intended 
 to do little else. But the next morning, as we have 
 related, his mancEuvres to avoid lessons were detected 
 and checkmated, and strict orders were given that he 
 was to return to the house immediately the minister 
 let him out, and that on no account was he to think 
 of going on the hill again. Tommy, without any 
 intention of keeping it, gave his word, as being the
 
 34:2 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 easiest Avay of preventing a messenger being sent to 
 conduct him home at night. But he was so inatten- 
 tive and so troublesome to his tutor, that that gentle- 
 man, after a long lecture on his bad behaviour and 
 evil ways, was glad to let him go at four o'clock — a 
 full hour before his time. Tommy carefully recon- 
 noitred the road near the manse, to see if any one was 
 lying in wait to take him home, and then, climbing 
 the dyke, set off Avith a beating heart, as fast as his 
 small legs would let him, to the nearest hill-top, from 
 which he expected to be able to see signs of the 
 whereabouts of the workmen. His sagacity was re- 
 warded. He saw a long line of fire slowly burning 
 up against the wind, but at a great distance: he 
 could not make out the figures of the men attending 
 it. Tommy, however, was not so disheartened at 
 this as might have been supposed. Crushed into 
 a shapeless mass in one of his hot knickerbocker 
 pockets Avas an emblem of great power — a box of 
 matches, Avarranted to strike on anything. He drcAV 
 this treasure out, and Avith a shaking hand struck 
 one, and lit a small isolated tuft of heather. Then 
 Avith a larger tuft, Avhich he managed to pull up, he 
 beat out the flame almost before it had Avell kindled. 
 There Avas shelter in this holloAv, though on the open 
 moor the Avind Avas bloAving as freshly as ever, and 
 he had no difficulty in accomplishing this. So for a 
 long time he amused himself mightily, burning tiny 
 patches here and there ; and as the ground Avas damp
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPERIMENT. 343 
 
 and the heather poor and thin, he easily put out his 
 conflagrations. Tommy was a sharp and clever boy, 
 and he had sense enough to know that a big flame 
 would be the means of bringing people down to see 
 what was the matter and inquire as to the kindler, — 
 and he did not want to betray himself and curtail his 
 delightful amusement. But the spirit of mischief 
 was abroad on those moors that March afternoon — 
 Avhether in the shape of old Ivatherine Buchanan the 
 witch, as some said afterwards, or merely as an im- 
 palpable essence, as is most likely, matters little — 
 and this spirit led Tommy step by step from the safe 
 and thinly covered marshy hollow towards the skirt 
 of a long plantation. This plantation had been in 
 some respects a failure. The ground was cold, and 
 the larch and firs had made but small progress, rather 
 inclining to bush out in width than exert themselves 
 to stand up as forest-trees. After the forester and 
 his men had several times " beat up " the wood, 
 making good the gaps among the plants, the owner 
 got tired of their want of success. The fences were 
 " let " doAvn, and sheep and cattle could get in if they 
 wanted. But there was little there to tempt them : 
 the long rank heather, and the still longer sour white 
 grass, woidd have been despised by any old blackface 
 who stood on this side of starvation. This badly 
 developed wood was about 800 yards long, and lay 
 broadside on to a vast extent of moorland, terminated 
 by older woods, and the latter stretched away in
 
 344 TALES FEOM ''BLACKWOOD." 
 
 stately pride for miles and miles. Tlie heather on 
 the far side of the young wood at whicli Tommy had 
 arrived was exceedmgly dense and high. The autho- 
 rities had meditated plantmg this also, but the failure 
 in what had aheady been done made them delay the 
 work, and meanwhile it had not been burnt or inter- 
 fered with, but left that it might be a shelter to the 
 young trees, if ever they were put in : young wood 
 does not do weU on burnt ground. 
 
 If we have made the surroundings of this place 
 clear to the reader, we have shown that a mischievous 
 boy possessed of that most dangerous commodity, a 
 little leamuig, and a box of matches to boot, could 
 not well have been deposited in a locality where he 
 could do more harm. Tommy eyed the long rank 
 heather on the tumbled-do'svn bank of the plantation, 
 and a noble ambition shot into his mind. " I'll light 
 it below," he thought, " and then run up the bank 
 and put it out before it gets on. It'll burn splen- 
 didly ! " This boy, after his late experiences, con- 
 sidered himself capable of coping with a very for- 
 midable conflagration. He had been timid in the 
 hollow, where there Avas no need for fear, and now 
 he was about to be fearfully rash where there was 
 the greatest cause for alarm. " Be not too bold." 
 Tommy had never read Spenser, and would have 
 appreciated him as much as the Latin grammar. He 
 struck one of his last matches, applied it to an in- 
 viting tussock of dry grass, and sprang up the bank,
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPERIMENT. 345 
 
 armed with his little heather switch. He did not 
 stay there long, however, neither had he occasion to 
 use any more of the treasures in his box. In two or 
 three seconds Tommy jumped off this bank, dropped 
 his switch, and ran off as fast as his legs would carry 
 him; and the wish that predommated then in his 
 small breast was that he had never been born. 
 
 The fire ran quickly up the sloping bank ; then 
 for a moment or two it seemed baffled, and a man 
 with strong arms and a knowledge of using them, 
 could have got the mastery. But it slowly worked 
 its way across the thin herbage on the turf dyke, and 
 got uiside the wood : a long venomous yellow flame 
 shot out ahead, and touched a tuft of grass ; ready 
 fuel lay on every side, and the plantation was fairly 
 alight in a few seconds. The fire spread out and 
 took to itself ample ground. It ran furiously in a 
 long red and yellow ivall up the little brae where 
 the trees first began, encouraged and fanned by the 
 motion in the air its own blaze made, shrivelling up 
 the stunted Scotch firs and spruce which had so long 
 striven to make their livelihood out of the inhospit- 
 able soil, and had now to see and feel a moment's 
 blaze and pain ruin the work of years. As it neared 
 the top of the brae the fire got help from the wind, 
 roughly blowing where there was no shelter, and it 
 then went roaring and hissing through the plantation, 
 driving out all its small tenants — the rabbits and 
 hares — and proclaiming in a most unmistakable way
 
 346 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 to all -within a wide radius that it had started off at 
 last to do its work, and that it meant to do it 
 thoroughly. 
 
 So, about six o'clock, the men legitimately burning 
 a mile and a half or so away from the scene of INIaster 
 Tommy's little experiment, were thinking of their 
 suppers, and impatiently watching the indefatigable 
 grieve, who still kept rnnning out his safety-lines and 
 calling on them to stand by him lest the boundaries 
 should be passed. Old ]\Iungo jM'Xaughton had been 
 sent a little way back to bring on the basket which 
 held the whisky and the glasses. Mungo pulled out 
 the cork of one bottle and tasted it, to see if any of 
 the idle loons had been playmg a trick on honest 
 men by exchanging peat water for good liquor ; and 
 Avhile he was slowly tilting the bottle's base up against 
 the dying sun, he became aware of something which 
 alarmed him so much that he swallowed more in one 
 gulp than he could manage, and nearly choked, and 
 for a moment he could not call out. By the time 
 the whisky had found out its way — some through his 
 Avaistcoat, but the bulk down his shrivelled old throat 
 — the other men had seen the blaze, and he lost for 
 ever the credit and honour of having been the first to 
 call attention to it. " What's that, forester 1" " By 
 
 , what's thatl" "The young wood's on fire !" 
 
 " Away Avith you ; — run, men, run ; — get to it for 
 God's sake, or we'll never manage that ! " The factor 
 called the oldest and steadiest boy to him : " Eun for
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPERIMENT. 347 
 
 your life, lad, to the farm, and alarm everybody. 
 Shout at all the bothies, and send up every living 
 soul to the hill." The lad set off like a young deer, 
 grieving to leave temporarily the scene of so much 
 excitement, and yet proud of his task, and at being 
 the first bearer of ill news. Two active men were 
 detailed to cut fresh beaters in a neighbouring wood, 
 and then the factor set off after his rapidly lessening 
 men as hard as he could stretch, with that peculiar 
 sinking about the knees and thumping of the heart 
 which people feel when suddenly called on for exciting 
 work which entails great physical labour. Wonderful 
 stories were told afterwards as to the time taken by 
 some active souls to cover that mile and a half. Robert 
 ]\I'Corquodale claimed to have been the first at the 
 fire ; but as he was reported to have slunk away 
 half-an-hour previously, hoping not to be missed, and 
 his house lay in the direction of the manse, he did 
 not ultimately get as much credit for his nimbleness 
 as he thought due. However, in no long time every 
 one was up, different emotions agitating different 
 bosoms, — some of the youngsters merely excited at 
 the prospect of seeing enormous damage caused ; the 
 older men understanding well the long and serious 
 work which lay before them. The grieve and keepers 
 were horrified at the sight, and the head forester 
 almost out of his mind at the prospect of such ruin 
 to his department. 
 
 The sight was an appalling one : the fire was
 
 348 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 sweeping up the whole breadth of the plantation, 
 and not all the men in Scotland and all the fire- 
 engines in London would have availed anything there. 
 The wind drove it furiously on ; great flames shot out 
 on all sides — twisted, yellow, scorching flames — lick- 
 ing up with thirsty tongues everything that came in 
 their Avay, shooting out with extraordinary rapidity 
 twenty feet in advance, and seizing on everything 
 they touched. Green or dry it made little difference, 
 and the spreading spruce and silver firs, Avhich would 
 have burnt but languidly on a bonfire, changed in 
 a moment their sappy luxuriance for a shrivelled 
 mass of brown desolation. !No one there, however 
 little used to such a sight, but knew that to attempt 
 to cope with the fire then was as useless as to start 
 to bail Loch Awe with a stable bucket. The god 
 woidd work his way in that wood at any rate, let 
 who AvUl say him nay. The men were as bold and 
 hardy and daring as Scotch hillmen could be, but 
 even they could do nothing against the mass of red 
 edging from which flames shot out many feet, and 
 fiercely licked round the forms of any standing within 
 measurable distance of their possessions. The grieve 
 pluckUy tried it, darting in at a weak place and 
 giving one mighty stroke with his beater. The grieve 
 went in, — a man clad in a hairy and woolly suit of 
 home-spun, a good curly beard and moustache adorn- 
 ing his cheerful face, — and he came out a singed and 
 scorched creature, hardly recognised by his wife the
 
 MASTEE tommy's EXPERIMENT. 349 
 
 next day, every hair on his knickerbockers and coat 
 and stockmgs gone, and most of those on his face 
 sadly curtailed. 
 
 The factor put most of his men in front of the 
 wood, a few heing left on either side to put out 
 the flaming hits of grass which were now and then 
 blown over into the heather. These latter had plenty 
 of work to do. The light bent flew like small comets 
 from the plantation ; and the herbage being very dry, 
 it took many quickly repeated blows of the beaters to 
 put out even a tiny flame, so rapidly did the fire run 
 along the ground. " Swish " Avould come a huge 
 besom, driven with a will by a gi-eat strong fellow 
 into a flaming tuft, and the blaze would seemingly 
 go out ; but even whilst he was raising his beater for 
 another stroke, it would start up again, defying him, 
 and the quickly applied strokes of two or three men 
 might be wanted to keep it in check. The factor 
 and some of the men stood at the end of the wood, 
 inactive then, for the fire had not yet reached the 
 boundary, but bracing themselves up as it were for 
 work which they knew a few minutes would bring 
 them. And then one man there compared small 
 things with great, and remembered the description 
 Avhich ISTapier gives of how, in one of the great 
 battles of the Peninsula, a lull came over the fight, 
 and for a few moments after the explosion of a 
 magazine the men of both armies stood idle on the 
 bare Spanish hillside — idle for a moment, to get
 
 350 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 on with their work more fiercely after the short 
 pause. 
 
 The sight of the great irregular wall of advancing 
 flame was a very grand one, and it seemed grander 
 to an onlooker a little removed from the smoke and 
 splutter and minor noises Avhicli it created. Like 
 Job's war-horse, it devoured the ground — all that 
 stood upon the ground ; a man did not need a 
 poetical imagination to compare it with an army. 
 Like an army it had its advanced guards — the long 
 lurching flames which pioneered the way. The tufts 
 of burning grass, which fell thickly on the sides, 
 might be likened to spies sent out to see the lie of 
 the land. And like an irresistible army it pressed 
 on, — the bravest troops on earth would have to retreat 
 before such a foe. 
 
 When the men first came round to the head of the 
 wood, they set to work to lay a snare for the enemy 
 they could not fairly meet, and they began to burn a 
 line some hundred yards ahead of the last fence, so 
 that he might exhaust his fiuy on bare ground. But 
 the heather was so dense and rank and dry, and the 
 breadth to be covered so great, that the factor stopped 
 them. He was afraid of the new fire occupying 
 their attention when they ought to be grappling with 
 the old. 
 
 He wished to save their strength ; the switches, 
 too, were worn, and the new supply had not yet come. 
 And lastly, though all this has taken some time
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPEEIMENT. 351 
 
 to read, the doing of it was quickly carried out. 
 Only a few stragglers had come up yet, and it was 
 Avith divided forces, and weary arms, and inefficient 
 weapons, that the enemy had to be met. A few 
 seconds would show whether men were to sleep in 
 bed that night, or spend it in grappling with the 
 wildest conflagration the oldest inhabitant had ever 
 seen. The great irregular wall of fire came threaten- 
 ingly on ; already stray bits of lighted stuff flew on 
 ahead, each one kindling the heather outside, and 
 being hastily beaten and trampled out by hurrying 
 men. But the flames were still some way back from 
 the plantation fence when most saw that nothing but 
 a miracle could save them from spreading over that 
 frail march. The Avind seemed to exult in giving 
 help to their enemy, — a hundred burning tufts flew out 
 on to the moor — five hundred — a thousand : panting 
 men beating out one in their front found two or three 
 blazing up at their backs, each demanding instant 
 attention. Every blow of the beaters loosened lighted 
 fragments of the wiry bent, dry as touchwood, and these 
 in their turii kindled fresh places. r>y the time the 
 reinforcements arrived, and fresh strength ivas added 
 to the weary workers, the wood was left far behind, 
 black and smouldering, and a great body of flame was 
 driving through the heather, pressing across the moor 
 toAvards the thousands of acres of Avood which still 
 rejoiced in their green beauty mUes aAvay, Avhilst a 
 hundred and fifty men toiled in its Avake, and
 
 352 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 thrust themselves on its flanks, and even unavailingly 
 charged it in front. And the good men set their 
 teeth and swore to themselves, that if men could put 
 out that fire they would do it ; and the skulkers idled 
 and lit their pipes, and wondered how much whisky 
 they would be able to get hold of, working prodigi- 
 ously when the factor or any one in authority was 
 near. Before nine o'clock the fire was a mile and a 
 half on its way, with a head a quarter of a mile 
 broad, the crowd following it, doing at present little 
 more than following it, but yet in some measure guid- 
 ing it and preventing it from spreading and carrying 
 utter desolation over the whole length and breadth 
 of the moors. The frightened grouse and black-game 
 flew before it ; the woodcocks nestled in the heather, 
 hardly stirring till the heat compelled them ; and the 
 beetles and snails and ants, and all manner of creeping 
 things, " perished in the flaming night of their last 
 judgment." 
 
 An idle man would have found much to interest 
 him in the way in which different people did their 
 work that night, and could have made many studies of 
 character by that fierce light. The estate on which 
 all this happened was a very large one, and many 
 different trades were represented on the hilL There 
 was the clerk of works, summoned from his ofiice by 
 a shrieking lass telling him that " the property was 
 on fire." It was not his business to meddle with 
 such things, but he was there as soon as any one.
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPERIMENT. 353 
 
 manfully lashing at the fierce red edge, and retiring 
 at intervals into the dark background to cough and 
 groan out the smoke -which penetrated into the 
 inmost recesses of his honest interior. Many of 
 his men were there too, — masons and joiners and 
 plumbers, in the main good fellows, — working hard 
 and diligently at the unaccustomed job. The cattle- 
 man left his cattle ; the butler asked leave for absence 
 from dinner, and had to return after coming half the 
 way, to change his dress-coat. Many shepherds were 
 there : they hurried from their homes in lonely glens, 
 guided by the great blaze which their knowledge of 
 the ground told them had no right to be where it 
 was. These men understood their business : they did 
 not rush at their work with the fury of inexperience, 
 but quietly and determinedly stuck to it in a way 
 which was in the long-run the most serviceable. In 
 fact, every able-bodied man in the district, and many 
 who were exceedingly decrepit, reached during the 
 night the place of action. And all these men worked 
 according to their inclinations and lights,— no one 
 had time to see in the smoke and confusion that in- 
 dividuals scattered over a large space did what they 
 ought. 
 
 "We'll no' manage it unless the wind gaes doun," 
 said a shepherd. 
 
 "We must manage it," said the factor. 
 
 " We'll no' manage it, wind or no'," said an old 
 saw-miller, who had been attracted by the blaze and 
 
 T.s. — I. z
 
 354 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 the hope of whisky, and who had not done one 
 stroke of real work. 
 
 "It'll be in Langwell wood in an hour," said 
 another. 
 
 " If it gets into Langwell," said the forester, " it'll 
 get into Creildarrach ; and if it gets into Creildar- 
 rach " 
 
 Perhaps the factor should have gone on at once 
 and made sure of the safety of the Langwell woods 
 hy turning a strip outside, but that meant sacrificing 
 most of the moor which lay in front of them. He 
 was very anxious to save some part of it, and he 
 knew that the shepherd had greatly over-estimated 
 the jjace at which the work of destruction was being 
 done. On him the responsibility rested, and it was 
 not easy to decide, — it was almost painful. He com- 
 promised the matter. 
 
 " We will stay here for a bit," he said, " and if 
 the worst comes to the worst, we shall still have time 
 to save the wooda" 
 
 The forester shook his head at this decision, and 
 once more applied himself to his work. Soon there 
 were two hundred men on the ground — nearly one 
 half quite useless — and large supplies of bread and 
 cheese and drink arrived ; but birch -beaters were 
 scarce, and they were wanted most of all. Great big 
 fellows were expending their strength in thrashing at 
 the flames with sticks almost as thin and as " feck- 
 less " as a pitchfork would have been. It is not
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPERIMENT. 355 
 
 always easy to cut good ones by daylight, and it is 
 exceedingly difficult to get them at night. So many 
 that were brought up were useless — too heavy to 
 wield, or too thin to do any good ; and some of the 
 men at last strapped bunches of heather to their 
 sticks and used them. The food and its accompani- 
 ment tempted some to stray away and hold Httle 
 impromptu picnics in the dark, and all this took 
 time ; and there are few seasons when time is more 
 valuable than when fire of any kind has to be fought. 
 Then the factor saw he was beaten where he stood. 
 The men were hardly gaining ground. Many of the 
 good workers were worn out and unable to do more, 
 and many were discouraged ; and finding their feeble 
 efforts of little use, became still feebler, and stood 
 by, as it were, when they could, and wondered w^hat 
 Avould happen. He got hold of about five-and-twenty 
 men, some good and some evil, and leaving the com- 
 mand and his last instructions to the forester, led 
 his detachment, as quickly as he could get them to 
 travel, across the rough moor to where the great 
 woods began. It was a relief to feel the cool wind 
 blowing, free from smoke and heat, and to leave 
 behind for a little the din and roar and confusion of 
 the huge tossing mass of flame. Arriving at the 
 Avood, they carefully began to use their enemy as 
 a friend ; and as a surgeon will sometimes stop a 
 dangerous bleedmg by cutting an artery, and causing 
 for a moment a greater flow of blood, so did they set
 
 356 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 fire against fire hy burning a line of defence for the 
 plantation. It Avas no easy task : the night was now 
 very dark, the switches almost useless ; the heather 
 here also was so rank and high that the greatest 
 caution was necessary to keep it from spreading. A 
 hoy lit tlie line too far ahead, and it got away from 
 them and passed on to the wood ; and at one time it 
 seemed to the half-distracted factor that by their 
 coming they had merely hastened the advent of the 
 lire. It was put out, however, by immense exertion ; 
 and they got back to their old stations, owing to the 
 increasing strength of the wind, and, to some extent, 
 to the withdrawal of the small force sent on, before 
 the old fire burned more fiercely than ever. There 
 were no brooks in its way, few sheep drains, and 
 these well filled in and harmless; and the flames 
 swept on, meeting Avith small opposition : if they 
 lost ground for a moment in one place at a temporary 
 obstacle, at another they were sure to gain. A band 
 of wearied, blackened, silent men followed it, doing 
 what they could. Some had fallen out of the ranks 
 and were left far behind, and those for the most part 
 the best. A sturdy Highlander is bad to beat at 
 anything on which his mind is deeply set, but even 
 his sinews and limbs will fail at last if no rest is 
 given them. Few of the workers waste their strength 
 in shouts now, thougli at the first there had been no 
 lack of shouting. 
 
 " AVe're no' fit for it," said an ancient "bodach"
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPERIMENT. 357 
 
 who for hours had done nothing but give advice and 
 smoke; and this feeling was probably more or less 
 strong in most of the men's minds. 
 
 If the factor got his track burnt in time, the fire 
 was beaten ; if not, they were. It seemed doubtful 
 if the track would be burnt in time. Part of it was 
 weU done, — a broad band of smouldering turf lay 
 like a black moat round its fortress — the forest ; but 
 lower down the hill, and yet weU within the scope of 
 the approaching fire, the wood was stiU undefended. 
 The heather there had to be burnt slowly and 
 cautiously for the reasons given, and the most part 
 of it remained unburnt when the old fire was within 
 a hundred yards, — a "wide strip of dense high ling 
 keeping up the dangerous communication between 
 the moor and the trees. Then the factor called off all 
 his men, and took them to meet their enemy. He 
 knew that as the greedy blaze rolled up it, it would 
 die out harmlessly on reaching his burnt strip, and 
 that its power would be concentrated on the narrower 
 lane which ran into the wood, and that it must be 
 beaten there if anywhere. He shouted this out to 
 the men, — some heard, and some not ; but all, at any 
 rate, knew that a few seconds would show whether 
 the woods of half a county were to go down or not. 
 
 Those men who had not already left their coats 
 behind took them off now, and used them as beaters. 
 The flames were so long and hot that it was quite 
 impossible to tackle them in front, almost impossible
 
 358 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 from the sides ; but a gap had to be made in them 
 for a start, and after a second's pause, a shepherd 
 threw himself into the fiery mass, — a brave jump, 
 and brought his heavy beater down. He was badly 
 burnt about the legs and face, and had to come out 
 at once and go liome, but his daring saved the 
 woods. A dozen followed liim, and a gap was made 
 in the long bright line of fire. Tlien the shouting 
 began again — "Out with it! out with it! out with 
 it ! N'ow we have her : into her, men — into her 
 noio / " and a stumbling, half-suffocated, yelling mass 
 pressed forward hard on the flames, beating them 
 with coats and what switches were left, trampling 
 on them, gaining on them rapidly, extinguishing 
 them by sheer weight. There was no shirking the)K 
 Tlie top of a knoll was reached, and all saw the tall 
 dark pines of the old woods standing mistily out 
 above the smoke against the dim sky. They saw, 
 too, the head of the fire just thirty yards in front 
 of them, burning almost as hotly as ever, but narrowed 
 by want of fuel on one side. But its assailants were 
 close upon it, and their goal was in sight ; and the 
 men gave a mighty roar, and rushed at their prey. 
 Peter M'Doodle, and Eoderick M'Gilp, and Johnnie 
 M'Howdie, were the first down from that knoll. 
 Eut as the grieve said the next day — "It was no' 
 their fault ; the deevils had no choice gi'en them : 
 they had to gae doun on their legs or lie doun on 
 their stummacks and be run ower."
 
 MASTER tommy's EXPERIMENT. 359 
 
 In twenty seconds the fire was extinguished. A 
 shepherd smashed out the last blazing bit, and an old 
 mole-catcher, having neither wind nor strength left 
 him to raise his aching arm, just eyed for a moment 
 a dangerous mass of red-hot ashes, and then sat down 
 on it. The woods were saved. 
 
 The next morning the fire Avas naturally a topic 
 of conversation at the big house, and many were the 
 surmises as to how it originated. The laird, soon 
 after breakfast, called for Tommy to go with him 
 up to the hill and see the mischief that had been 
 done. 
 
 " Where's Master Tommy ? " 
 
 "I think he is at the manse, sir." 
 
 " But it's not his time," said the astonished father, 
 who well knew his son's proclivities. And then a 
 suspicion shot through his breast. Ah, Tommy ! 
 foolish, foolish Tommy ! that was not a wise move 
 of yours. You might have known it was one which 
 would attract attention at any time. You go volun- 
 tarily to school] Xot without reason. Later, the 
 whole matter was explained — matches were found 
 in his greasy knickerbocker pockets. A note to the 
 minister brought back a reply stating at what time 
 he had left the manse. He had been late in return- 
 ing home. How did he explain the hiatus 1 Tommy 
 declined to explain anything. It is the duty of an 
 upright historian not to blink facts, however unpleas- 
 ant, but mercifully custom permits him to draw a
 
 360 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD. 
 
 veil over miiiute and unpleasant detail. So it is 
 sufficient to say that a tall Avoman, of severe coun- 
 tenance and great muscular development — his nurse 
 — spent some time in a copse, apparently cutting 
 a heather-beater of birch, to be ready in case of an 
 emergency. "With this in one hand, and Master 
 Tommy, so to speak, in the other, she disappeared 
 into an inner chamber, where it would be unbecom- 
 ing to follow. Master Tommy has, during the last 
 few days, quite lost his taste for "muir-burn." He 
 looks askance at the beaters, and vows that the smell 
 of heather smoke almost makes him sick.
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FRAUD. 
 
 ADAPTED FEOM A CHAPTER OF A CHINESE NOVEL. 
 BY PROFESSOR ROBERT K. DOUGLAS. 
 
 , [MAGA. December 1SS3.] 
 
 
 
 j^E hot August afternoon the Prefect of Ping- 
 chow might have been seen sitting in the ver- 
 andah of his private apartments smoking his post- 
 prandial pipe and admiring the flowers, which threw 
 a fragxance and "beauty over the courtyard which 
 stretched before him. The official work of the 
 morning had fatigued him. Litigants had been 
 troublesome, and in the case of certain witnesses who 
 had refused to give the evidence expected of them, 
 he had been obliged to resort to the application of 
 thumb-screws and ankle-squeezers. Having a natural 
 repugnance to torture, its use always disturbed him ; 
 and after such occasions as the present, he exchanged 
 his seat in the judgment-hall for his easy-chair and 
 pipe with a redoubled sense of enjoyment. On this 
 particular afternoon his wife, Mrs Le, was seated by
 
 362 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD."' 
 
 liim, and was recounting, among other events of the 
 morning, the particulars of a visit she had received 
 from a certain Mrs Wang. 
 
 " From the moment she entered the room I took a 
 dislike to her," she said. " She had a fawning, cat- 
 like manner, with her ' May it please you, madam,' 
 or ' May I be permitted to say Your Excellency ; ' 
 and all the while that she was thus fawning on me 
 and praising your learning and wisdom, I felt sure 
 she had some object in coming besid.es the desire 
 to pay her respects. Then she went on to say how 
 rich her husband was, and how willing he would 
 be at any time to advance you money in case you 
 should need it. At last out came the canker-worm 
 from this rosebud of flattery. Her son, it seems, is 
 very anxious to marry a Miss Chang, the daughter 
 of a rich President of the Board of War, who is at 
 present engaged on service on the Annamese frontier. 
 His suit is countenanced by the young lady's uncle, 
 but is rejected by herself." 
 
 " And why ? " 
 
 "Well, according to Mrs Wang, — but then I 
 should not believe anything because she said it, — 
 there is some clandestine love-affair which disinclines 
 her to the proposed match. As her father is away, 
 it was necessary that she should be consulted, al- 
 though, of course, her uncle would be justified, as 
 Mrs AVang hmted, in arranging matters in his ab- 
 sence."
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FRAUD. 363 
 
 At this moment a servant entered the courtyard 
 and presented to the Prefect a red visiting-card, on 
 which was inscribed the name of Mr Wang, the father 
 of the would-be bridegroom. 
 
 " Why, this is the husband of your visitor of this 
 morning," said he, as he glanced at the card. " They 
 are evidently determined to push on the affair. If 
 they are as keen in the pursuit of virtue as they 
 are of this marriage, they will soon out-virtue Con- 
 fucius." 
 
 " My belief is," said his wife sententiously, " that 
 they might dine off their virtue without breaking 
 their fast." 
 
 " Well, at all events, I will go to hear what this 
 man has to say ; but having fortunately seen his 
 hook, I shall refuse the bait, however skilfully he 
 may throw the line." 
 
 The host and his guest were as unlike as it was 
 possible for two men to be. The Prefect moved into 
 the room with the manner of a polished gentleman, — 
 one who, being well assured of his relative position, 
 knew perfectly what was expected of him, and what 
 he had a right to expect from others. He was tall, 
 too, and his refined features expressed a composure 
 Avhich was engendered by power and assured by 
 habit. Wang, on the other hand, was his antipodes. 
 He was short, stout, broad-featured, and altogether 
 vulgar-looking. His eyes were small and ferret-like 
 in their restlessness, wliile his natm-al awkwardness
 
 364 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 of manner was aggravated by a consciousness that he 
 had come on a dishonest mission. As the two men 
 met and bowed, the Prefect surveyed his guest with 
 curiosity not unmixed with loathing, much as a young 
 lady might regard a strange kind of toad. To his 
 repeated requests that Wang would seat himself, that 
 Avorthy feigned a constant refusal, until at last, in 
 despair, the Prefect was fain to sit down, when his 
 guest, with bated breath, followed his example. Tlie 
 progress of the interview was not more propitious 
 than its opening. Wang attempted some classical 
 allusions, but having but a vague knowledge of his- 
 tory, succeeded only in likening his host to the repro- 
 bate Chow-sin, which would be much as if a visitor 
 were to attempt to ingratiate himself with the Lord 
 Chief-Justice, by attributing to him the character- 
 istics of a Caligula. Being a stupid man also, he 
 was quite unaware of the contempt, which was suffi- 
 ciently obvious in the Prefect's manner, and he opened 
 the real object of his visit with assurance. 
 
 " The presence of your Excellency in our district 
 has shed a ray of golden light among us. But a 
 lamp, as I well know, cannot give light unless it is 
 supplied with oil. N'ow Mencius said — I think it 
 was Menci\is, was it not, your Excellency 1 — that out 
 of their superfluity people ought to satisfy the wants 
 of those not so bountifully provided for. If, then, 
 your Excellency should at any time require that 
 which it is within the power of your servant to sup-
 
 A MATEIMONIAL FRAUD. 365 
 
 ply, I beseech you, give him the gratification of 
 knowing that he can be of service to you." 
 
 "As your classical knowledge is so profound," 
 answered the Prefect, *' you doubtless remember the 
 })assage in which an ancient sage declares that an 
 official who receives anything, except in return for 
 service performed, is a ' fellow.' J^fow it happens that 
 I am not inclined to play the part of a ' fellow.' " 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! " chuckled Wang, who thought this 
 was a hint for him to state his business in full, 
 " your Excellency, I see, likes to come to the point. 
 The fact is, then, that my son is deej)ly enamoured 
 of a Miss Chang, whom he once saw from a window 
 in her imcle's house, as she walked in her garden. 
 Her beauty has completely ravished him. He can 
 neither eat nor sleep from the intensity of his passion, 
 and his very life depends upon his marrying her. 
 Besides, I don't mind saying to your Excellency that 
 the connection, — her father is a President of the 
 Eoard of War, — would be both agreeable and useful 
 to me." 
 
 "I am sure I wish your son every success," said 
 the Prefect ; " but I cannot see how otherwise the 
 affair concerns me in the least." 
 
 " Why, is not your Excellency the ' father and 
 mother' of your people? and in the absence, there- 
 fore, of the President, it is on you that the duty falls 
 of arranging a marriage for this young lady. As was 
 said by Confucius, ' Every girl on arriving at a mar-
 
 366 TALES FKOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 riageable age should be "betrothed ; ' and it is plain, 
 therefore, that i\Iiss Chang's bridal presents should 
 be prepared. If your Excellency would deign to 
 direct the betrothal of this young lady and my un- 
 •worthy son, my joy would be endless, and my grati- 
 tude without bounds. I may mention, also, that ]\Ir 
 Chang, the young lady's uncle, who is in every way 
 a most estimable man, cordially supports my son's 
 suit." 
 
 "But why," asked the Prefect, "does the young 
 lady decline the proposal which I understand you 
 have already made her?" 
 
 "AVell, the fact is," said AVang, "that she has 
 formed a foolish attachment for a young man who 
 some months ago met with a bad accident outside her 
 door, and who was carried into her house to die, as 
 every one thought. But, marvellous to say, by the 
 doctor's care and the watchful attention of the lady's 
 servants, he recovered. Unfortunately, however, his 
 cure took some time; and during his convalescence, 
 it seems that the two young people held several con- 
 versations together, always, I am bound to say, through 
 an impenetrable screen, and in the presence of at- 
 tendants. She was, however, so struck with his 
 sentiments and appearance — for I am told that she 
 managed to see him, though he never caught a glimpse 
 of her — that she vowed a vow never to marry any one 
 but him." 
 
 " And who was the young man 1 "
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FRAUD, 367 
 
 " His name was Tieh (iron) ; and lie must have 
 been as hard as iron not to have been killed by his 
 fall, for he fell on his head and was kicked by his 
 horse. He doubtless has a certain kind of ability, as 
 he had just taken the third degree, or that of ' entered 
 scholar,' and was on his way home from his examina- 
 tion at Peking when he met with his accident." 
 
 " A certain amount of abilitj"-, indeed ! " ejaculated 
 the Prefect ; " why, the whole capital rang with 
 praises of his scholarship ; and in his native town a 
 tablet has already been raised, as a memorial of his 
 conspicuous success. However, as you have appealed 
 to me officially on behalf of your son, I will cause in- 
 quiries to be made, and will let you know my deter- 
 mination." 
 
 The Prefect was as good as his word, and the re- 
 ports he received, both of the Wang family and of the 
 young lady's uncle, were so eminently unsatisfactory, 
 that he directed his secretary to write a short letter to 
 Mr Wang, stating that he must decline to interfere in 
 the matter. 
 
 On receipt of this note, the look of cunning which 
 usually rested on the coarse and blurred features of 
 the elder AYang, changed into one of furious hate. 
 He had never been accustomed to exercise self-restraint 
 in anything, and his anger, like the many other 
 passions which alternately possessed him, raged with 
 imchecked fury, and he broke out with a volley of 
 imprecations, calling down endless maledictions on
 
 368 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 tlae Prefect personally, and casting frightful imputa- 
 tions on the honour of his ancestors both male and 
 female. Hearing his curses — for, like all Chinamen, 
 Wang found shouting a relief to his feelings — Mrs 
 Wang rushed in to know their cause. 
 
 " Nicely you managed matters with the Prefect's 
 wife, you hideous deformity ! " screamed her infuri- 
 ated husband, as she entered. " The hypocritical prig 
 now refuses to have anything to do with the marriage, 
 and has actually returned, Avithout a word, the bill of 
 exchange for a thousand taels which I enclosed him." 
 
 " You don't seem to have done much better with 
 the 'hypocritical prig' yourself," replied his wife; 
 " but don't be a fool ; cursing people's grandmothers 
 Avon't do you any good, and certainly won't do them 
 any harm. So just sit down and let us see Avhat we 
 had better do in the circumstances." 
 
 These words fell li]j;e a cold shower-bath on Wang. 
 In his heart he was afraid of his wife, who Avas both 
 cleverer and more unscrupulous than he was, and Avho, 
 having been the instigator of most of his unrighteous 
 deeds, was in possession of secrets Avliich left his 
 peace of mind, and even his liberty, very much in her 
 poAver. In all such matters as were at present in dis- 
 13ute, therefore, she took the lead, and on this occa- 
 sion, sat herself down opposite her disturbed lord, and 
 began — 
 
 " AVell now, since we cannot expect any help from 
 this pattern of assumed virtue, I think Ave had better
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FKAUD. 369 
 
 try what the girl's uncle Avill be able to effect by 
 cajolery. You must go to him at once, before the 
 idea gets abroad that the Prefect is against us, and 
 persuade him by promises of money to represent to 
 his niece that he now stands in the place of a father 
 to her, and that as such he strongly urges her to agree 
 to the match. Let him dangle every bait likely to 
 catch our fish that he can think of. He should en- 
 large on our wealth, on our influence with the oflicial 
 classes, and on the good looks and engaging qualities 
 of our son. Living so completely secluded as she 
 does, she is not likely to have heard of his escapades, 
 and Chang can at times lay the paint on thick, I know. 
 But before you start, take a few pipes of opium to 
 steady your nerves. Your hand shakes as though you 
 had the ague, and you look like a man on the verge 
 of the Yellow Springs." ^ 
 
 This last advice was so thoroughly congenial that 
 AVang at once retired to follow it. His wife, having 
 compassion on his quivering fingers, accompanied him 
 to liis study, and having arranged his pillow, pro- 
 ceeded to fill his pipe. With practised skill, she 
 mixed the paste -with a long needle, and gathering on 
 the point a piece about the size of a pea, laid it neatly 
 in the small orifice in the centre of the surface of the 
 flat-topped wooden receptacle which protruded from 
 the side of the long stem. When thus prepared, she 
 handed the pipe to her reciunbent husband, who 
 
 ^ I.e., Hades. 
 T.S.— I. 2 A
 
 370 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 eagerly clutched it, and applied the pellet of opium 
 to the lamp which stood ready lighted on the divan. 
 The effect of the first few whiffs was magical. His 
 face, which a few moments before had been haggard 
 with excitement, and twitcliing with nervous irrita- 
 bilit}'', now softened down into a calm and placid ex- 
 pression ; his eyes lost their restless, anxious look ; 
 and his limbs, which had been drawn up with mus- 
 cular rigidity, relaxed their tension. Once, twice, 
 and thrice, did Mrs Wang refill his pipe ; and then, 
 fearing lest a prolonged indulgence should disincline 
 him to move, she urged him to rise and to pay his 
 visit. 
 
 Eefreshed and calmed, "Wang arose. All his excite- 
 ment had disappeared ; and a sensation of pleasurable 
 enjoyment, which threw a rose-tinted hue even on the 
 present state of affairs, had succeeded to it. A very 
 few minutes sufficed for the arrangement of his toilet. 
 The application of a damp towel to his face and hands, 
 a few passes of a wooden comb to smooth backwards 
 the stray locks which had escajied from his queue, 
 and a re-adjustment of his cap and robe, were all that 
 were needed to fit him for his interview with Chang. 
 As he was borne swiftly through the streets he leaned 
 back in his sedan, lost in a reverie, in which he saw, 
 as in a dream, his son married to the object of his ad- 
 miration, himself decorated by the Emperor with a 
 blue button in exchange for a few thousand taels ; 
 and the Prefect, bound hand and foot, being carried
 
 A MATEIMONIAL FRAUD. 371 
 
 off to prison. "Whether this last vision was suggested 
 or not by an official procession which he encountered 
 on the way, will never he known ; for so lost was he 
 in dreamy indifference to external objects, that he was 
 quice unconscious of the presence of his arch-enemy 
 in the same street, although his chair cooHes had, as 
 in duty bound, stood at the side of the road Avhile 
 " the great man " passed on his way. 
 
 Having been warned by a forerunner of the ap- 
 proaching arrival of Wang, Chang was waiting ready 
 to receive him. Profoundly the two friends bowed 
 to one another as they seated themselves on the 
 divan ; and after a remark or two on general topics, 
 Wang went straight to the point. He related the 
 Prefect's refusal to interfere, and then enlarged on 
 the proposal indicated by his wife, and ended by 
 making Chang the offer of a round sum of money 
 in case he succeeded in arranging matters with his 
 niece. Chang listened patiently, feeling confident, 
 from his knowledge of his guest, that a bribe would 
 be offered him, and being Avell assured that it would 
 be the inducement held out last, though in reality 
 firsts in importance. The sum named settled the ques- 
 tion so far as Chang was concerned. He was a needy 
 man, and was considerably in debt. Besides, he fore- 
 saw that if he could once induce his niece to regard him 
 in loco parentis, he would be able to get into his hands, 
 for a time at least, the management of his brother's 
 property. This trust, he knew well, might be turned
 
 372 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 to profitable account, and liis eyes sparkled at the 
 prospect that loomed large before him. "When, there- 
 fore, Wang ceased to speak, he said, with effusion — 
 
 " I have listened to your commands, and have been 
 overcome with admiration at the lucidity of your ex- 
 pression, the knowledge you possess of the rites of an- 
 tiquity, and the general wisdom of your views. It 
 remains only for me to say that I will obey your orders 
 to the best of my mean ability, and that I regard with 
 infinite gratitude your munificent intentions towards 
 your ' younger brother. ' Let me now offer for your 
 refreshment a pipe of 'foreign dirt.'" 
 
 Without waiting for assent Chang nodded to a 
 servant, who, being evidently "to the manner born," 
 left the room and speedily returned bearing two small 
 lacquer-trays, each of which contained an opium pipe 
 and the necessary adjuncts. By the side of both his 
 master and Wang, who were now recumbent, he 
 placed a tray, and then withdrew, leaving the two 
 friends to the enjoyments of intoxication. Pipe after 
 pipe they smoked, until at last the pipe dropped from 
 their mouths, and they passed into the opium-smoker's 
 paradise — a state of dreamy unconsciousness, in which 
 strangely fanciful visions passed before their other- 
 wise sightless eyes, and strains of sweetest music 
 charmed and delighted their ears. It Avas late the 
 next morning before they awoke, and it was then 
 plain, from the expression of then." faces, that the 
 pleasurable sensations of the early part of the night
 
 A MATKIMONIAL FEAUD. 373 
 
 had long since passed away. Their eyes, which were 
 surrounded by broad black rims, bore a haggard and 
 painful look. Their lips were blue and parched, and 
 their complexions wore a mahogany hue, as though 
 saturated with their favourite narcotic. Many " hairs 
 of the dog that had bitten him" and some hours' 
 quiet rest were necessary before Chang Avas in a fit 
 condition to pay his visit of persuasion to his niece. 
 When at last he wallced across to her house, he was 
 shown, by right of his relationship, into her private 
 apartment, — which even he could not fail to observe 
 was prettily furnished and tastefully adorned. Flowers 
 of every hue and shape— azaleas, hydrangeas, and 
 roses — were arranged about it on stands in symmetri- 
 cal confusion ; while on the tables and sideboard was 
 displayed a wealth of ancient bronzes, cracked china, 
 and old enamel vases, which would have driven 
 Messrs Christie and Manson wild with excitement. 
 The walls were hung with scrolls, on some of which 
 celebrated caligraphists had inscribed sentences from 
 the classics, Avhich Chang did not very Avell under- 
 stand ; and on others, distant hills, dotted with 
 temples and enlivened by waterfalls, were depicted 
 by old masters. One cool and shady scene, repre- 
 senting two old men playing at chess on a mountain- 
 top beneath a widespreading pine-tree, and attended 
 by boys bearing pipes and flasks, which might pos- 
 sibly be sujjposed to contam tea, especially attracted 
 his attention; and so absorbed was he m the con-
 
 374 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 templation of it, that he was quite unaware that an 
 even more attractive object had entered the room. 
 Plum-blossom, for so the neAV arrival Avas named, 
 seemed at first indisposed to interrupt her imcle's 
 meditation, and stood watchmg him, holding the 
 door in her hand. She had evidently attired her- 
 self with some care. Her hair was trimly arranged 
 in a bunch on each side, after the manner of 
 maidens ; while a short fringe drooped over her fore- 
 head, which was both high and broad. Her silken 
 robe hung in graceful folds over her plaited satm 
 petticoat, from beneath which her small embroidered 
 shoes obtruded their toes. In figure she was tall ; 
 and her features, which were fine and sharply marked, 
 told a tale of high breeduig and intelligence. Her 
 eyes were large and well opened, and paid their trib- 
 ute to her race by being slightly drawn up towards 
 the outside corner. Her complexion needed neither 
 powder nor rouge to add to its beauty ; and the ex- 
 pression of her countenance generally was bright and 
 mobile. Even Chang, when she advanced to meet 
 him, rose to greet her with admiring cordiality. 
 
 After the first compliments were over, Chang pro- 
 ceeded to open the object of his visit. "You are 
 aware, my niece," said lie, " how much your future 
 has been in my mind since your father has been en- 
 gaged in his present distant and doubtful service. I 
 need not remind you of the saying of Mencius, that 
 * when a boy is born, the desire of his parents is that
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FRAUD. 375 
 
 he may found a household ; and from the time a girl 
 appears in the world, the main object of her parents 
 is to see her married ; ' nor need I go on to quote to 
 you the sage's disapproval of all such who so far 
 forsake the right path as to bore holes in partition 
 walls and peep behind screens to catch glimpses 
 of persons of the other sex" (this was a stab at 
 Mv Iron). " K'oav, as I cannot but regard myself in 
 the light of your father, I feel it incumbent on me 
 to urge you to give your consent to be betrothed. I 
 have made inquiries as to the young men of equal 
 rank with yourself in the district, and with one con- 
 sent my informants joined in extolling the young Mr 
 "Wang, of whom I have before spoken to you, as 
 being in every way a carp among minnows, and a 
 phoenix among magpies." 
 
 " If the minnows are drunkards and magpies roues, 
 that is true enough," muttered Violet, Plum-blossom's 
 attendant maiden, who, standing behind her mis- 
 tress's chair, had listened with ill-concealed disgust 
 to Chang's address. Fortunately Chang's senses 
 were not very acute, and the interpolation was un- 
 noticed by him. 
 
 "But, uncle," answered Plum- blossom, "though 
 it is true that my father is engaged on a distant mis- 
 sion, and that I have not heard from him for a long 
 time, yet I have no right to assume either that he is 
 dead — which may the Fates forbid — or that he may 
 not at any moment return ; and according to the
 
 376 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 ' Book of Eites,' it is the father who should betroth 
 his daughter. My obvious duty is therefore to wait 
 until I hear something definite either from him or of 
 him." 
 
 " What you say is perfectly true in a general way," 
 said Chang ; " but even the sages acknowledged that, 
 under certain circumstances, it was allowable, and 
 sometimes even necessary, to depart from the com- 
 mon usage. N'ow yours is a case where such a de- 
 parture is plainly called for. I have talked over the 
 matter with the Prefect," added Chang, with some 
 slight embarrassment, "and he is entirely of my 
 opinion." 
 
 " That certainly adds weight to your arguments," 
 answered Plum-blossom, demurely ; " for though I 
 have no personal knowledge of the Prefect, I have 
 repeatedly heard of his fame as a man of wisdom and 
 uprightness. So I will go as far as to say, uncle, 
 that if you choose to act in all respects a father's part 
 in this matter, I will give my consent. But, tell me, 
 have you spoken on the subject to the young gentle- 
 man himself 1 I hope you have not been paying me 
 compliments behind my back." 
 
 "I have spoken to him several times about the 
 match," replied Chang; "but I should no more 
 thmk of attemptuig to compliment you, as you say, 
 than I should try to whiten a cloth washed in the 
 waters of the Han or Keang and bleached in the sun. 
 And, let me tell you, your good sense was never more
 
 A MATKIMONIAL FEAUD. 377 
 
 apparent than at this moment. I felt convinced that 
 a girl of your perception and wisdom would fall in 
 Avith the proposal which I, wholly and entirely in 
 your interest, have so repeatedly made you. And 
 nov." you know there will be a number of arrange- 
 ments to be made," said Chang, determined to strike 
 while the iron was hot ; " and first of all, you must 
 send to your future husband the eight characters 
 representing the year, month, day, and hour of your 
 birth, that they may be submitted to the fortune- 
 teller." 
 
 "But already, uncle," said Plum-blossom, "you 
 are breaking your agreement ; and remember, if you 
 break yours I may break mine. You undertook to 
 act the part of a father to me, and it is therefore for 
 you to send the Pali-tsze " (eight characters). 
 
 " You may be quite sure that I shall not retreat 
 from my engagement," replied Chang ; " but that 
 there may not be any mistake, I should like you to 
 ■write me a draft of the characters, that I may send 
 them to be copied in gold, and that," he added aside, 
 "I may hold your own handwriting as evidence 
 against you, if, by any chance, you should turn fickle 
 and change your mind." 
 
 " Certainly ; " and calling for paper and pencil, 
 Plum-blossom Avrote down eight cyclical characters, 
 and presented them to her uncle. 
 
 " Oh, lady, what have you done 1 " exclaimed 
 Violet, wringing her hands as the door closed on
 
 378 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD," 
 
 Chang ; " if you only knew as much about that young 
 Wang as I do, you would die sooner than marry hini. 
 He is a brawler, a drunkard, an opium - smoker, 
 a " 
 
 " Hush ! " said her mistress ; " perhaps I know 
 more than you think I do. And now listen to what 
 I say. Don't feel or express surprise at anything I 
 say or do in this matter ; and as to the outside world, 
 keep your eyes and ears open, and your mouth shut." 
 
 The look of despair which had taken possession of 
 Violet's quaint-looking features gradually gave way 
 under the influence of these words to one of surprised 
 bewilderment. Her narrow slits of eyes opened their 
 widest as she gazed with a searching look on the 
 features of her mistress. By degrees she appeared to 
 gather comfort from her inspection, and she promised 
 implicit obedience to the instructions given her. 
 
 In the house of Chang there was wild rejoicing 
 over the event. Only ]\Irs Chang seemed to have 
 any misgiving. "I cannot make the girl out," she 
 said. " It was but the other day that she vowed and 
 declared she would not listen to the match, and now, 
 with scarcely a show of resistance, she gives way. I 
 hope she won't change her mind again as suddenly." 
 
 " There is no danger of her doing that," replied 
 her husband, " for I persuaded her to write out her 
 natal characters with her own hand, and here is the 
 paper ; " and so saying, he drew from his sleeve the 
 paper given him by Plum-blossom. " But," he
 
 A MATEIMONIAL FKAUD. 379 
 
 added, " she insists that as I am. acting in the place of 
 her father in this matter, / must have the characters 
 cut out in gold-leaf, and the cards prepared to send 
 to the bridegroom. I should be quite willing to do 
 this, but, as a matter of fact, I have not got the 
 money by me to pay for them." 
 
 "Oh, Wang will find the money readily enough. 
 Go round to him at once and ask for it, and a little 
 more in addition ; and when the cards are ready, our 
 eldest son shall act as emissary to take them to the 
 bridegroom. It was a clever thought to get her to 
 put pen to paper." 
 
 IMrs Chang was right. "Wang produced the money 
 almost with eagerness, and signalised the subsequent 
 appearance of young Chang with the card by a sump- 
 tuous feast. In due course, also, the bridegroom ^ 
 having prepared numerous and costly wedding-gifts, 
 sent word to Chang that on a given day he would 
 " humbly venture to send his paltry offering " to the 
 young lady's "princely mansion." On receipt of 
 this gratifying intimation, Chang Avent in high spirits 
 to warn his niece of the intended ceremony. 
 
 "My dear uncle," said the young lady, "in the 
 absence of my father, and in this empty and dis- 
 mantled house, I could not possibly receive the 
 presents. It would be neither proper to do so, nor 
 would it be respectful to young Mr Wang. As you 
 were kind enough to send the Avedding-card for me, 
 the return presents should, as a matter of course, be
 
 380 TALES FKOM " BLxVCKWOOD. " 
 
 carried to your house ; and besides, I cannot help 
 feeling that as you have undertaken so much expense 
 on my behalf, it is only fair that the presents, what- 
 ever they may be worth, should belong to you." 
 
 "Your wisdom and discretion really astonish me,"' 
 said Chang, who could scarcely conceal his delight at 
 the prospect of turning the presents into gold ; " but 
 while assenting, on the ground of propriety, to the 
 arrangement you propose, I think the card of thanks 
 had better be in your handwriting." 
 
 " Certainly," said Plum-blossom ; " but it must of 
 course run in your name, as it Avould have done in 
 my father's name had he been here." 
 
 So saying, she sat down and inscribed a card of 
 thanks. "There, I think that will do. Listen to 
 what I have written : ' Chang Teming bows his head 
 m acknowledgment of the wedding-presents sent to 
 his daughter.' " 
 
 "Why pxit 'his daughter' 1" objected Chang, 
 doubtingly. "Young Wang is not going to marry 
 my poor, ugly daughter, — I wish he were ; it is you, 
 my niece." 
 
 "But as you have, with so mxich kindness and 
 disinterestedness, taken upon yourself the part of 
 a father towards me, it follows that I must be your 
 daughter. To call yourself ' my father,' and me ' your 
 niece,' would make people laugh and wonder." 
 
 "Very well, be it as you will," rejoined Chang, 
 overcome by Plum-blossom's logic.
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FRAUD. 381 
 
 The new view proposed by his niece as to the 
 o^vnership of the presents gave Chang an additionally 
 keen interest in their arrival and value ; and certainly 
 nothing on the score of costliness could have been 
 more gratifying to him than they were. As soon 
 as he had carefully arranged them with his own 
 hands in the family hall, he invited Plum-blossom 
 over to inspect them. She expressed admiration 
 at the taste shown in their choice, and at their 
 great intrinsic value, and congratulated her uncle 
 on their acquisition, adding, at the same time, that 
 as she had no brother, the bulk of the family pro- 
 perty would, she supposed, like these presents, pass 
 into his possession. 
 
 " But whatever happens," said Chang, with a wave 
 of his hand as though all such sordid ideas were 
 abhorrent to him, "remember I shall always con- 
 sider you as a daughter, and hope that you will 
 in the same way look upon me in the light of a 
 father." 
 
 If Chang had observed closely his niece's face as 
 he spoke, he would have seen an expression of sup- 
 pressed amusement, which might either have sug- 
 gested to him the possibility that she had doubts 
 on the subject of his disinterestedness, or have 
 given him reason to suspect that some scheme 
 lurked beneath her seemingly extremely yielding 
 demeanour. But his mind was just then so fuU 
 of the prospect of freedom from debt, and of large
 
 382 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 perquisites, that such a trivial matter as his niece's 
 face was obviously beneath his notice. 
 
 To young Wang the favourable turn which affairs 
 had taken was an unfailing source of delight, and 
 was marred only by the enforced exercise of patience 
 required by the astrologer, who, after comparing the 
 ticket of nativity sent by Chang with that of the 
 intending bridegroom, had pronounced that the 15th 
 of the next month was the date prescribed by fortune 
 for the nuptials. At last the fateful day arrived, as 
 all days will, however long waited for ; and at early 
 morn the impatient bridegroom sent his best-man to 
 Chang to announce that on that same evening he 
 should come to claim his bride. Chang could scarcely 
 restrain his impatience sufficiently to perform pro- 
 perly the duties of a host to the welcome emissary ; 
 and no sooner had that young gentleman executed 
 his last bow outside the front door, than his enter- 
 tainer hurried over to Plum-blossom to warn her 
 of the bridegroom's intended arrival. Demurely the 
 young lady listened to her uncle's excited congratu- 
 lations, and with an expression of assumed luicon- 
 sciousness on her uplifted face, replied — 
 
 " But, my dear uncle, although I am profoundly 
 interested in the future Avelfare of my cousm, 
 Autumn-leaf, yet you can hardly expect me, I am 
 sure, in my present condition of doubt as to my 
 father's whereabouts, and even his life, to appear 
 at the wedding ; and I am at a loss, therefore, to
 
 A MATEIMOXIAL FRAUD. 383 
 
 understand why you, who must have so much to do, 
 should have thought it necessary to inform me in 
 such haste of the coming event." 
 
 Surprise, doubt, fear, and anger coursed in turn 
 across Chang's features as these words fell upon his 
 confused ears ; and when his niece ceased to speak, 
 all four sensations found full expression both in his 
 countenance and voice. 
 
 " "What do you mean," he hissed out, " of speaking 
 of my daughter's marriage t Are you joking, or are 
 you trying to play me false 1 It is you that young 
 "Wang is coming to marry, and it is you he shall 
 marry tliis very night." 
 
 " My dear uncle, you are strangely inconsistent in 
 this matter. If you wiU take the trouble to think, 
 you will recollect that the wedding-cards were made 
 out in the name of ' your daughter,' and that when 
 the presents arrived at your house — not at mine, 
 remember, uncle — you returned thanks for 'your 
 daughter.' It is plain, then, that my cousin was the 
 intended bride ; for had you meant me, you would 
 have spoken of me as your 'youngest daughter,' or 
 ' adopted daughter ' ; but there was no such qualifica- 
 tion, was there, uncle? I can assure you, also, that 
 I have no present intention of marrying, and least 
 of aU marrying such a man as "Wang, who, though he 
 enjoys the benefit of your friendship, would hardly, 
 I fear, prove a congenial companion to me." Plum- 
 blossom could not deny herself this Parthian shot.
 
 384 TALES FEOM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 Chang listened like one thunder - struck ; then 
 springing from his chair, he paced up and down 
 the room with long strides, giving vent to his pas- 
 sion in violent and most unoriental gesticulations, 
 
 " You deceitful wretch ! " he cried, " do you sup- 
 pose that I am going to he cheated and outraged hy 
 an ignorant young girl like youl I'll mcike you 
 marry Wang ; and," he added, as a sudden thought 
 struck him, "though you may think yourself very 
 clever, you have forgotten that you have left an 
 evidence in my hand of your consent to the match. 
 A murderer, you know, ought to destroy his weapon, 
 and a thief should hide his crowhar; but you have 
 given me, in your own handAvriting, the evidence 
 against you. I have only to produce your autograph- 
 ticket of nativity before the Prefect, and he would 
 order you to fulfil the contract." 
 
 This last retort Chang expected would have silenced 
 Plum-blossom, or at least disconcerted her, but her 
 outward calm was unruffled. 
 
 "Your answer would be complete, uncle," she 
 replied, with almost a smile, "but for one small 
 circumstance, which, strangely enough, you appear 
 to have overlooked. The cyclical characters on the 
 ticket represented the year, month, day, and hour of 
 my cousin's birth, not mine." 
 
 The sound of a chuckle of suppressed laughter from 
 behind the door where Violet was hidden, was inter- 
 rupted by a vehement outburst from Chang.
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FRAUD. 385 
 
 " You lie ! " he shouted ; " and I will prove it." 
 ^\'ith these Avords he burst out of the room so sud- 
 denly as nearly to knock down Violet, who was in 
 the act of peeping round the corner to watch the 
 effect of her mistress's remark. 
 
 " Oh, my lady ! " she exclaimed, as Chang's re- 
 treating figure disappeared, "hoAV could you be so 
 calm and quiet when he was raguig sol" 
 
 "Eecause," replied Plum-blossom, "I had him in 
 the palm of my hand, being conscious of my own 
 integrity and of his evil intentions. Don't you 
 remember how Confucius played a tune on his lyre 
 when he and his disciples were attacked by banditti ] 
 And if he could show such indifference to danger in 
 circumstances of so great peril, should not I be able 
 to preserve a calm demeanour in the presence of this 
 storming bully 1 " 
 
 The sound of Chang's returning footsteps drove 
 Violet again into her place of concealment. " There," 
 he said as he entered the room, "is the paper you 
 gave me; and now deny your own handwriting if 
 you dare." 
 
 " Please sit doAvn, uncle, and let me ask you one 
 or two questions. What was the date of my 
 birth 1 " 
 
 " You -were born on the 15th of the 8th month, in 
 the second watch. I and your father were, as it 
 happened, drinking to the full moon when the news 
 was brought us." 
 
 T.«. — I. 
 
 2 B
 
 386 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " And when did your daughter, Autumn-leaf, first 
 see the light 1 " 
 
 " On the 6th of the 6th month, as I well remember ; 
 for the weather was so intensely hot that her mother's 
 life was in danger." 
 
 "And now, uncle, will you read the date represented 
 by the cyclical characters on the paper which you hold 
 in your hand 1 " 
 
 "Oh, I don't know anything about cyclical char- 
 acters," replied Chang. " Such knowledge," he added 
 in a vain attempt to conceal his ignorance, " is only 
 fit for astrologers and women." 
 
 " Is it possible," said Plum-blossom, in a tone of 
 revengeful mockery, " that, with your wide circle of 
 knowledge, you don't miderstand these simple char- 
 acters 1 Well, then, let me, ' ignorant young girl ' as 
 I am, explain them to you. These first characters, 
 Ke wet, stand for the month which is vulgarly known 
 as the Serpent month, which, as perliaps you know, 
 is the sixth month." 
 
 "Yes, I know that." 
 
 "Well, these next characters, Keah yin, represent 
 the sixth day of the month, and this is, therefore, the 
 date of my cousin's birth, and not of mine — the year 
 of our births being the same." 
 
 " You have attempted to ruin me," he said, " by 
 an abominable fraud ; but I will be even with you. 
 I will impeach you before the Prefect, and then see 
 whether you will bo able to escape from the clutches
 
 A MATRIMONIAL FRAUD. 387 
 
 of the law as easily as you think you have escaped 
 from mine." 
 
 " You had better not be in too great a hurry, uncle. 
 From things I have lately heard, the Prefect has not 
 been altogether acting with you in this matter ; and 
 if I were to charge you with attempting to decoy me 
 into a marriage in the absence of my father and against 
 my consent, it might go hardly with you." 
 
 " What does it matter 1 " groaned the wretched 
 man, as he threw himself l^ack in his chair ; " I am 
 ruined, whatever happens. So Avhat can I do better 
 than either throw myself into the well or take a dose 
 of gold-leaf, and so end my miseries 1 " 
 
 " I have a better plan than either of those you 
 suggest," said Plum-blossom ; " and if you will listen 
 to my advice, I think I can get you out of your 
 difficulty. You would like to have your daughter 
 married, I suppose'?" 
 
 " Does not a weary man long to throw his burden 
 off his back ? " 
 
 " Very well, then, why should you not throw this 
 burden into the lap of young Wang 1 He has through- 
 out the business negotiated for ' your daughter ' ; then 
 let him take your daughter." 
 
 " But he will discover the fraud." 
 
 " 'Not until it is too late. He won't see her face 
 until she is his wife, and then he Avill be ashamed to 
 confess that he has been hoodwinked." 
 
 " Well," said Chang, after a few minutes' reflection,
 
 388 TALES FROM "BLACKWOOD." 
 
 " as it is the only way out of the difficulty, 1 will risk 
 it. But there is no time to be lost; and the least 
 you can do, after the way you have behaved, is to 
 come over and help us with the arrangements, for 
 young AVang is to be here this evening." 
 
 Peace being thus restored, the unnatural allies Avent 
 to propose their scheme to Autumn-leaf. That young 
 lady, who was as free from any bashfidness or refined 
 feeling as her worthy parent, was delighted at the 
 idea. Being very plain in appearance and ungainly 
 in figure, she had entertained but faint hopes of 
 matrimony, and the prospect, therefore, of gaining 
 a husband so rich as young Wang was charming 
 beyond measure to her. She at once consented to 
 play the part required, and, without a moment's loss 
 of time, prepared to bedeck herself for the occasion. 
 Anticipating a marriage, though not having been 
 certain of the exact day, Chang had arranged every- 
 thing in readiness except the bride. The decorations 
 and scarlet hangings were all at hand, and a very 
 few hours' work sufficed to adorn the family hall and 
 altar with the splendours usual on such occasions. 
 But the bride was not so easily beautified. However, 
 after all the resources of Plum-blossom's wardrobe, as 
 well as her own, had been exhausted in choosinir 
 dresses and petticoats which became her best, she , 
 was pronounced presentalile. ]\ruch the confederates 
 trusted to the long red veil which was to cover her 
 face and person until her arrival at her new home ;
 
 A :\rATEIMONIAL FRAUD. 389 
 
 and niiimte were the directions whicli Plum-blossom 
 gave her for concealing her features until the next 
 morning. 
 
 "Assume a modesty, even if you don't feel bash- 
 ful. Shrink within the curtains when your husband 
 approaches you, and protest against his keeping the 
 lamp alight. If in the morning there should be an 
 . outbreak of anger on his part, try to soften him with 
 tears ; and if that should prove unavailing, pretend 
 to be in despair and threaten suicide. I^o man likes 
 a fuss and a scandal ; and after a time, you may be 
 quite sure he will settle down quietly." 
 
 Primed with this excellent advice. Autumn -leaf 
 Avent through the ceremonies of the day without 
 betraying herself. The awkwardness with Avhich she 
 entered the audience-hall and bowed to the bride- 
 groom was put down by himself and his friends to 
 natural timidity. The remaining rites she executed 
 faultlessly. She did reverence to heaven and earth 
 and to her ancestors, and finally entered the bridal 
 sedan-chair which was to carry her to her new home 
 with complete composure, much to the relief of her 
 father, who had all day long been so tremulous with 
 nervous excitement, that, from time to time, he had 
 been compelled to imbibe courage from his opium- 
 pipe. When at last the doors were shut on the 
 bridal pair his gratification was great, although, at 
 the same time, it was painfully niingled with a sense 
 of the possible evil consequences which might very
 
 390 TALES FROM " BLACIvWOOD." 
 
 likely ensue on the course he liad taken. However, 
 for the present there was freedom from anxiety, and 
 he wisely determined to let the future take care of 
 itself. 
 
 " I should like to see Mr AVang's face when he 
 wakes to-morrow morning," said Violet, laughing, as 
 she followed her mistress back to her apartments. 
 "But," she added, as the sound of loud raps were 
 heard at the front door, " who can that be knocking 
 at the street gate so violently? He cannot, surely, 
 have found out the trick already t If he has, what 
 ivill you do ] " 
 
 The first question was soon ansAvered, for just as 
 she finished speaking, a servant announced that the 
 Prefect had sent his secretary to inquire whether 
 Plum-blossom's marriage, Avhich he had only just 
 heard was in course of performance, was taking place 
 with her full consent or not, as he Avas prepared to 
 interfere in case she was being coerced ; and at the 
 same time to hand her a letter from her father which 
 had been forwarded Avith the usual official despatches 
 from Peking. 
 
 " Beg the secretary to assure the Prefect," replied 
 Plum-blossom, " that his infinite kindness towards 
 me is deeply engraven on my heart ; and to inform 
 him that, happily for me, it Avas not I Avho Avas mar- 
 ried this evening but my cousin." 
 
 With impatience and deep emotion Plum-blossom 
 noAV turned to open her father's letter^ the contents
 
 A MATKIMONIAL FliAUD. . 391 
 
 of wliicli brought tears of delight to her eyes, and 
 caused Violet to perform a dance as nearly resembling 
 a fandango as is possible, with feet just two inches 
 and a half long. That the President should have 
 returned from the frontier covered with honours was 
 only what Plum-blossom felt might have been looked 
 for ; but that he expected to arrive at Ping-choAV on 
 the very next day, was a cause of unspeakable joy 
 and relief to her. This, however, was not quite all 
 the news the letter contained. " I am bringing with 
 me," wrote her father, " a young ^Ir Tieh, to Avhose 
 foresight and courage I mainly attribute the success- 
 ful issue of my mission." 
 
 PRINTED BV WILLIAM liLACKWUUU ANU SONS.
 
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