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THE ASTONISHING HISTORY 
 OF TROY TOWN 
 
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 London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne. 
 
The 
 
 Astonishing History 
 of Troy Town 
 
 By 
 
 A, T. Quiller-Gouch 
 
 CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD 
 
 London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne 
 
 1913 
 
First published Sef>temler 1888. 
 
 Kefirinted November 1888, Ap'il 1891, Atisrust 1892, 
 
 July and October 1895, June 1890, April 1904, February 1907, 
 
 ^rty 1911, March 1913. 
 
 Popular Edition il/rty 1902. 
 
 Reprinted January 1903, September 1905, 
 
 ^/o;' 1908, /w«^ 191^. 
 
 ALL BIGHTS RESERVED 
 
TO CHARLES CANNAN 
 
 My Beats. Cannan, 
 
 It is told of a distinguished jjedagogue that 
 one day a heated stranger burst into his study, andy 
 wringing him by the Jiand, cried, ^^ Heaven bless and 
 reward you, sir ! Heaven 'preserve you long to educate old 
 England^ s boyhood ! I have walked many a weary, weary 
 mile to see your face again," he continued^, flourishing a 
 scrap of paper, ^^and assure you tlmt but for your discipline, 
 obeyed by me as a boy and remembered as a man, I should 
 never — no, never — have won the Ticket-of Leave which you 
 behold!'' 
 
 In something of the same spirit 1 bring you this small 
 volume. The child of encouragement is given to staggering 
 its parent; and I make no doubt that as you turn the 
 following pages, you will more than once exclaim^ with the 
 old lady in the ballad — 
 
 " 0, deary me! this is none of I! " 
 
 NevertlielesSy it would be strange indeed if tJiis story bore no 
 marks of you : for a hundred kindly instances Jiave taught 
 me to come with sure reliance for your reproof and praise^ 
 Few, I imagine, have tlie good fortune of a critic so friendly 
 and inexorable ; and if tlie critic has been unsparing, he 
 has been used unsparingly. 
 
 «. 
 
 Wargrave, Eenley -on- Thames, June 7th, 1888, 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAaS 
 
 I. In which the Reader is made acquainted with a 
 State of Innocence; and the Meaning op the 
 Word Cumeelfo 1 
 
 II. How an Admiral took one Gentleman for Another, 
 
 AND WAS told THE DAY OP THE MoNTH ... 10 
 
 III. Op a Blue-jerseyed Man that would hoist no more 
 
 Bricks ; and a Nightcap that had no Business 
 
 to be where it was 19 
 
 IV. Op certain Lepers ; and two Brothers who, being 
 
 MUCH ALIKE, LOVED THEIR SiSTER AND RECOMMENDED 
 
 THE Use OF Globes 29 
 
 V. How AN ABSENT-MINDED MaN, THAT HATED WOMEN, 
 
 TOOK A House by the Waterside, and lived 
 
 THEREIN WITH ONE SERVANT 41 
 
 VI. How CERTAIN Trojans climbed a Wall out op 
 Curiosity ; and of a Charwoman that could 
 GIVE NO Information 50 
 
 VII. Op a Lady that had a musical Voice, but used it 
 
 TO deceive 63 
 
 VIII. How A Crew, that would sail on a Washing-day, 
 
 WERE shipwrecked ; WITH AN ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 AGAINST Women 74 
 
 IX. Op A Town that would laugh at the Great; and 
 HOW A DULL Company was cured by an Irish 
 Song 86 
 
 X. Op one Excursion and many Alarums ... 100 
 
 XI. Op a Wesleyan Minister that would improve upon 
 Nature, and thereby trained a Rook to good 
 Principles 113 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XII. Op Deterioration ; and a Wheelbarrow that 
 
 CONTAINED unexpected THINGS 134 
 
 XIII. The Significance of Pomeeot's Cat; and how the 
 
 Men and Women op Troy ensued after Pleasure 
 
 in Boats 149 
 
 XIV. Of a Lady of Sensibility that, being awkwardly 
 
 placed, might easily have set Matters right, 
 
 BUT DID not; with MUCH BESIDE .... 162 
 
 XV. How a Lady and a Youth, being separated prom 
 THEIR .Company, visited a Ship that held 
 nothing but Water 179 
 
 XVL Op Stratagems and Spoils; and that the Nom- 
 inalists err who hold a Thing to be what it is 
 
 CALLED 193 
 
 XVII. How One that was dissatisfied with his Past saw 
 
 A Vision, but doubted 203 
 
 XVIII. Op a Young Man that would start upon a dark 
 
 Adventure, but had two Minds upon it . . 214 
 
 XIX. That a Silver Bullet has Virtue ; with a Warning 
 
 to Commodores 228 
 
 XX. How certain Characters found Themselves, at 
 
 Dead of Night, upon the Five Lanes' Eoad . 245 
 
 XXI. That a very little Tea may suffice to elevate a 
 
 Man 256 
 
 XXII. In which several Attempts are made to put a 
 
 Period to this History 265 
 
 XXIII. How ONE Lover took leave op his Wits, and two 
 
 came to their Senses 275 
 
 XXrV. Op the best Hellebore; and an Experiment in the 
 
 Entertainment of Twins 2ST) 
 
 XXV. Which ends the Story op Troy ..... 300 
 
THE ASTONISHING HISTORY 
 OF 
 
 TROY TOWN 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN WHICH THE READER IS MADE ACQUAINTED WITH A 
 STATE OF innocence; AND THE MEANING OF THE 
 WORD CUMEELFO. 
 
 '' Any news to-night ? " asked Admiral Biizza^ leading a 
 trump. 
 
 " Husli_, my love," interposed his wife timidly, with 
 a glance at the Vicar. She liked to sit at her husband's 
 left, and laid her small cards before him as so many 
 tributes to his greatness. 
 
 " I will not hush, Emily. I repeat, is there any 
 news to-night ? '^ 
 
 Miss Limpenny, his hostess and vis-a-vis , finding the 
 Admiral's eye fierce upon her, coughed modestly and 
 announced that twins had just arrived to the post- 
 mistress. Her manner, as she said this, implied that, 
 for aught she knew, they had come with the letters. 
 
 The Vicar took the trick and gathered it up in 
 silence. He was a portly, antique gentleman, with a 
 
 B 
 
2 TkOY '£OWS. 
 
 fine taste for scandal in its proper place, but disliked 
 conversation during a rubber. 
 
 ^' Twins, eh ? '' growled the Admiral. " Just what 1 
 expected. She always was a wasteful woman.'"' 
 
 "My love!'' expostulated his wife. Miss Limpenny 
 blushed. 
 
 "They'll come to the workhouse/' he went 
 on, '^and serve him right for making such a 
 marriage." 
 
 " I have heard that his heart is in the right place/' 
 
 pleaded Miss Limpenny, " but he used " 
 
 "Eh, ma'am?" 
 
 " It's of no consequence," said Miss Limpenny, with 
 becoming bashfulness. " It's only that he always used, 
 in sorting his cards, to sit upon his trumps — that always 
 
 seemed to me " 
 
 " Just so," replied the Admiral, "and now it's twins. 
 Bless the man ! what next ? " 
 
 It was in the golden age, before Troy became de- 
 moralised, as you shall hear. At present you are to 
 picture the drawing-room of the Misses Limpenny 
 arranged for an " evening " : the green rep curtains 
 drawn, the '' Book of Beauty " disposed upon the centre 
 table, the ballad music on the piano, and the Admiral's 
 double-bass in the corner. Six wax candles were beam- 
 ing graciously on cards^ tea-cakes and ratafias ; on the 
 pictures of "The First Drive," and "The Orphan's 
 Dream," the photographic views of Troy from the 
 harbour, the opposite hill, and one or two other points, 
 
X x'« jLi v v>a:j x^ \^£< • 
 
 and finally the noted oil-painting of Miss Limpenny's 
 papa as he appeared shortly after preaching an assize 
 sermon. Above all, the tea-service was there — the 
 famous set in real silver presented to the late Reverend 
 Limpenny by his flock, and Miss Priscilla — she at the 
 card-table — wore her best brooch with a lock of his hair 
 arranged therein as ?ifleur-de-li/s. 
 
 I wish I could convey to you some of the innocent 
 mirth of those " evenings " in Troy — those nodes 
 Lirnpenniana when the ladies brought their cap-boxes 
 (though the Buzzas and Limpenny s were but semi-de- 
 tached neighbours), and the Admiral and his wife insisted 
 on playing against each other, so that the threepenny 
 points never affected their weekly accounts. Those were 
 happy days when the young men were not above sing- 
 ing the " Death of Nelson," or joining in a glee, and 
 arming the young ladies home afterwards. In those 
 days ^^ Hocken's Slip " had not yet become the " Vic- 
 toria Quay," and we talked of the '^ Rope Walk " where 
 we now say ^^ Marine Parade."" Alas ! our tastes have 
 altered with Troy. 
 
 Yet we were vastly genteel. We even had our 
 shibboleth, a verdict to be passed before anything could 
 hope for toleration in Troy. The word to be pro- 
 nounced was "CUMEELFO," and all that was not 
 Cumeelfo was Anathema. 
 
 So often did I hear this word from Miss Limpenny's 
 hp that I grew in time to clothe it with awful meaning. 
 It meant to me, as nearly as I can explain, ^' All Things 
 
4 TRQY TOWN. 
 
 Sanctioned by the Principles o£ the Great Exhibition of 
 1851/' and included as time went on — 
 
 Crochet Antimacassars. 
 
 Art in the style of the '' Greek Slave." 
 
 "Elegant Extracts/' and the British Poets as 
 edited by Gilhllan. 
 
 Corkscrew Curls and Prunella Boots. 
 
 Album Verses. 
 
 Quadrille-dancing, and the Beiix- temps. 
 
 Popular Science. 
 
 Proposals on the Bended Knee. 
 
 Conjuring and Variety Entertainments. 
 
 The Sentimental Ballad. 
 
 The Proprieties, &c. &c. &c. 
 The very spirit of this word breathed over the 
 Jjimpenny drawing-room to-night, and IMiss Priscilla's 
 lips seemed to murmur it as she gazed across to where 
 her sister Lavinia was engaged in a round game with 
 the young people. These were Admiral Buzza's three 
 daughters, Sophy, Jane, and Calypso — the last named 
 after her father's old ship— and young Air. Moggridge, 
 the amusing collector of customs. They were playing 
 with ratafias for counters (ratafias were cumeelfo)^ and 
 peals of guileless laughter from time to time broke in 
 upon the grave silence of the whist- table. 
 
 For always, on such occasions, in the glow of Miss 
 Limpenny's wax-candles. Youth and Age held opposite 
 camps, with the centre table as debatable ground ; nor, 
 until the rubber was finished, and the round game had 
 
MORE INNOCENCE. 5 
 
 ended in a seemly scramLIe for ratafias, would the two 
 recognise each other's presence, save now and then by a 
 '' Hush, if you please, young people," from the elder 
 sister, followed by a whispered, ^^ What spirits your dear 
 girls enjoy ! " for Mrs. Buzza's ear. 
 
 But at length the signal would be given by Miss 
 Priscilla. 
 
 '^Come, a little music perhaps might leave a pleasant 
 taste. What do you say, Vicar ? " 
 
 Upon which the Vicar would regularly murmur — 
 
 "Say, rather, would gild refined gold. Miss Lim- 
 penny." 
 
 And the Admiral as invariably broke in with — 
 
 " Come, Sophy ! remember the proverb about little 
 birds that can sing and won't sing." 
 
 This prelude having been duly recited, the Misses 
 Buzza would together trip to the piano, on which the 
 two younger girls in duet were used to accompany 
 Sophia's artless ballads. The performance gained a 
 character of its own from a habit to which Calypso 
 clung, of counting the time in an audible aside : as 
 thus — 
 
 Sophia (singing) : " Oh, breatlie but a wliispered command." 
 
 Calypso : " One, two, three, four." 
 
 Sophia : '' I'll lay down my life for tlieo 1 " 
 
 Calypso : " One, two, three, four." 
 
 — the effect of which upon strangers has been known to be 
 paralysing, though we who were cumeelfo pretended not 
 to notice it. But Sophy could also accompany her own 
 
6 TROY TOWN. 
 
 songSj such as, " Will you love me then as now ? " and 
 '^ I'd rather be a daisy," with much feeling. She was 
 clever, too, with the water-colour brush, and to her we 
 owe that picture o£ " H.M.S. Calypso in a Storm," 
 which hangs to this day over the Admiral's mantel- 
 piece. 
 
 I could dwell on this evening for ever ; not that the 
 company was so large as usual, but because it was the 
 last night of our simplicity. With the next morning 
 we passed out of our golden age, and in the foolishness 
 of our hearts welcomed the change. 
 
 It was announced to us in this manner : — 
 
 The duets had been beaten out of Miss Limpenny's 
 piano — an early Collard, with a top like a cupboard, 
 fluted in pink silk and wearing a rosette in front ; the 
 performers, on retiring, had curtseyed in acknowledg- 
 ment of the Vicar^s customary remark about the "Three 
 Graces ; ^' the Admiral had wrung from his double-bass 
 the sounds we had learnt to identify with elfin merriment 
 (though suggestive, rather, of sea-sick mutineers under 
 hatches), and our literary collector, Mr. Moggridge, was 
 standing up to recite a trifle of his own — ^^ flung off ^'-— 
 as he explained, " not pruned or polished."' 
 
 The hush in the drawing-room was almost painful — 
 for in those days we all admired Mr. INIoggridge — as the 
 poet tossed back a stray lock from his forehead, flung 
 an arm suddenly out at right angles to his person, and 
 began sepulchrally : — 
 " Maiden "— 
 
WE HEAR THE NEWS. ' 
 
 (Here he looked very hard at Miss Lavinia Lim- 
 
 ponny.) 
 
 " Maiden, what dost thou in the chill churchyard 
 Beside yon grassy mound ? 
 The night hath fallen, tlie rain is raining hard, 
 Damp is the ground." 
 
 Mrs. Buzza shivered, and began to weep quietly. 
 
 " Maiden, why claspest thou that cold, cold stone 
 Against thy straining breast ? 
 Tell me, what dost thou at this hour alone P 
 (Persuasively) The lambs have gone to rest. 
 
 " The maiden lifted up her tearful gaze, 
 And thus she made reply : 
 * My mother, sir, is ' " 
 
 But the secret of her conduct remains with Mr. Mogg- 
 ridge, for at this moment the door opened and the 
 excited head of Sam Buzza, the Admiral^s only son, was 
 thrust into the room. 
 
 ^' I say, have you heard the news ? ' The Bower ' is 
 let" 
 
 '^What!'' 
 
 All eyes were fixed on the new-comer. The Vicar 
 woke up. Even the poet, with his arm still at right 
 angles and the verse arrested on his lips, turned to stare 
 incredulously. 
 
 ^'It^s a fact; I heard it down at the Man-o*-W^a7 
 Club meeting, you know,'' he explained. '' Goodwyn- 
 Sandys is his name, the Honourable Good wyn- Sandys, 
 brother to Lord Sinkport — and what's more, he is 
 coming by the mid-day train to-morrow.'' 
 
8 TROY TOWN. 
 
 The poet's arm dropped like a railway signal. 
 There was a long pause, and then the voices broke out 
 all together — 
 
 " Only fancy ! " 
 
 '• There now ! " 
 
 '' ' The Bower ' let at last \ " 
 
 " An Honourable, too ! '' 
 
 « What is he like ? " 
 
 '^ Are you sure ? "*' 
 
 '' Well, I never did I '* 
 
 " Miss Limpenny/' gasped the Admiral, at length, 
 " where is your Burke ? '' 
 
 It lay between the " Cathedrals of England " and 
 " Gems of Modern Art " ; under the stereoscope. Miss 
 Lavinia produced it. 
 
 " Let me see/' said the Admiral, turning the pages. 
 " Sinkport — Sinkport — here we are — George St. Leon- 
 ards Goodwyn-Sandys, fourth baron — H'm, h'm, here 
 it is — only brother, Frederic Augustus Hythe Goodwyn- 
 Sandys, b. 1842— married *' 
 
 '' Married ! '' 
 
 <i 1876 — Geraldine, eighth daughter of Sheil 0*Hallo- 
 ran of Kilmacuddy Court, County Kerry — blank space 
 
 for issue — arms : gules, a bar sinist Ahem I Well, 
 
 upon my word ! '^ 
 
 " I'm sure,^' sighed JNIrs. Buzza, after the excitement 
 had cooled a little—" I'm sure I only hope they will 
 settle down to our humble ways." 
 
 '* Emily,'' snapped her husband, '^ you speak like a 
 
THE serpent's hiss. 9 
 
 fool. Pooh ! Let me tell you, ma'am, that our ways 
 in Troy are not humble ! '^ 
 
 Outside, in Miss Lim penny's back- garden, the 
 laurestinus bushes sighed as they caught those ominous 
 words. So might Eden have sighed, aware of its 
 serpent. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 now AN ADMIRAL TOOK ONE GENTLEMAN FOR ANOTHER, 
 AND WAS TOLD THE DAY OF THE MONTH. 
 
 Next morningj almost before the sun was up, all Troy 
 was in possession of the news ; and in Troy all that is 
 personal has a public interest. It is this local spirit 
 that marks off the Trojan from all other minds. 
 
 In consequence, long before ten o'clock struck, it 
 was clear that some popular movement was afoot ; and 
 by half -past eleven the road to the railway station was 
 crowded with Trojans of all sorts and conditions — boat- 
 men, pilots, fishermen, sailors out of employ, the local 
 photographer, men from the ship-building yards, makers 
 of ship's biscuit, of ropes, of sails, chandlers, block and 
 pump manufacturers, loafers — representatives, in short, 
 of all the staple industries : women with baskets, women 
 with babies, women with both, even a few farmers 
 in liffht iri^s with their wives, or in carts with their 
 families, a sprinkling from Penpoodie, across the har- 
 bour — high and low. Church and Dissent, with children 
 by the hundred. Some even proposed to ring the church 
 bells and fire the cannon at the harbour's mouth ; but 
 the ringers and artillerymen preferred to come and see 
 the sight As it was, the " George " floated proudly 
 
TBOT IS ON TIP-TOS. 11 
 
 from the church tower, and the Fife and Drum Temper- 
 ance Band stood ready at the corner of East Street. All 
 Troy, in fact, was on tip-toe. 
 
 Meanwhile, as few in the crowd possessed Burke 
 or Debrett, the information that passed from mouth 
 to mouth was diverse and peculiar, but, as was i emarked 
 by a laundress in the crowd to a friend : " He may be 
 the Pope o' Rome, my dear, an^ he may be the Dook o' 
 Wellington, an' not a soul here wud know t'other from 
 which no mor'n if he was Adam. All I says is — the 
 Lord send he's a professin' Christian, an' has his linen 
 washed reg'lar. My ! What a crush ! I only wish 
 my boy Jan was here to see j but he's stayin' at home, 
 my dear, cos his father means to kill the pig to-day, an' 
 the dear child do so love to hear'n screech." 
 
 The Admiral, who happened by the merest chance 
 to be sauntering along the Station Road this morning, 
 in his best blue frock-coat with a flower in the button- 
 hole, corrected some of the rumours, but without much 
 success. Finding the throng so thick, he held a long 
 debate between curiosity and dignity. The latter won, 
 and he returned to No. ^, Alma Villas in a flutter, some 
 ten minutes before the train was due. 
 
 By noon the crowd was growing impatient. But 
 hardly had the church clock chimed the hour when the 
 shriek of a whistle was heard from up the valley. Amid 
 wild excitement a puff of white smoke appeared, then 
 another, and finally the mid-day train steamed serenely 
 into the station. 
 
1-2 TROY TOWN. 
 
 As it drew up, a mild spectacled face appeared at tlie 
 window of a first-class carriage, and asked — 
 
 '^ Is this Troy ? " 
 
 " Yessir — terminus. Any luggage, sir ? '' 
 
 The mild face got out. It belonged to the only 
 stranger in the train. 
 
 ''There is only a black portmanteau/^ said he. 
 '' Ah, that is it. I shall want it put in the cloakroom 
 for an hour or two while I go into the town.''' 
 
 The stranger gave up his ticket — a single ticket — 
 and stepped outside the station. He was a mild, thin 
 man, slightly above middle height, with vacant eyes and 
 a hesitating manner. He wore a black suit, a rather 
 rusty top-hat, and carried a silk umbrella. 
 
 " Here he comes ! " 
 
 " Look, that's him ! " 
 
 ^' Give ■'un a cheer, boys.'' 
 
 '^ Hip, hip, hoor-roar ! " 
 
 The sound burst upon the clear sky in a deafening 
 peal. The stranger paused and looked confused. 
 
 " Dear me ! '' he murmured to himself, " the popula- 
 tion here seems to be excited about something — and, 
 bless my soul, what a lot of it there is ! " 
 
 He might well say so. Along the road, arms, 
 sticks, baskets, and handkerchiefs were frantically wav- 
 ing; men shouting and children hurrahing with might 
 and main. Windows were flung up ; heads protruded ; 
 flaffs waved in frenzied welcome. The tumult was 
 stupendous. There was not a man^ woman, or child in 
 
THE CONQUERING HERO. 13 
 
 Troy but felt the demonstration must be hearty, and 
 determined to make it a success. 
 
 '' What cmi have caused this riot ? " 
 
 The stranger paused with a half -timid air, but after 
 a while resumed his walk. The shouts broke out again, 
 and louder than ever. 
 
 '^ Welcome, welcome to Troy ! Hooroar ! One 
 more, lads ! Hooroar 1 '^ and all the handkerchiefs 
 waved anew. 
 
 " Bless my soul, what is the matter ? '' 
 
 Then suddenly he became aware that all this frantic 
 display was meant for him. How he first learnt it he 
 could never afterwards explain, but the shock of it 
 brought a deathly faintness. 
 
 "There is some horrible mistake,'^ he murmured 
 hoarsely, and turned to run. 
 
 He was too late. The crowd had closed around him, 
 and swept him on, cheering, yelling, vociferating, 
 towards the town. He feebly put up a hand for 
 silence — 
 
 *^ My friends,^"* he shouted, ^^ you are "" 
 
 ^' Yes, yes, we know. Welcome ! Welcome ! Hip- 
 hip-hoo-roar ! "" 
 
 '^ My friends, I assure you " 
 
 Boom ! Boom ! Tring-a-ring — loom ! 
 
 It was that accursed Fife and Drum Temperance 
 Band. In a moment five-and-twenty fifers were blow- 
 ing " See, the conquering hero comes,'' with all their 
 breath, and marching to the beat of a deafening drum. 
 
14 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Behind them came a serried crowd with the stranger in 
 its midst, and a straggling train o£ farmers' gigs and 
 screaming urchins closed the procession. 
 
 Miss Limpenny, at the first-storey window of No. 1, 
 Alma Villas, heard the yet distant din. With trembling 
 fingers she hung out of window a loyal pocket-hand- 
 kerchief (worn by her mother at the Jubilee of King 
 George III.)^ shut down the sash upon it, and dis- 
 creetly retired again behind her white blinds to 
 watch. 
 
 The cheering grew louder, and Miss Limpenny 's 
 heart beat faster. ''1 hope,'' she thought to herself, 
 " I hope that their high connections will not have given 
 them a distaste for our hearty ways. Well as I know 
 Troy, I think I might be frightened at this display of 
 public feeling." 
 
 She peeped out over the white blinds. Next door, 
 the Admiral was fuming nervously up and down his 
 gravel walk. He was debating the propriety of his 
 costume. Even yet there was time to run up-stairs and 
 don his cocked hat and gold-laced coat before the pro- 
 cession arrived. Between the claims of his civil and 
 official positions the poor man was in a ferment. 
 
 "As a man of the world," Miss Limpenny solilo- 
 quised, "the Honourable Frederic Goodwyn- Sandys 
 cannot fail to appreciate our sterling Admiral. Dear, 
 dear, here they come I I do trust dearest Lavinia has 
 not put herself in too conspicuous a position at the 
 parlour window. What a lot of people, to be sure 1 " 
 
THE ADMIKAL STBPS FOETH. 15 
 
 The crowd had gathered volume during its passage 
 through the town, and the ^^ Conquering Hero'"* was 
 more distractingly shrill than ever. The goal was 
 almost reached, for ' The Bower '' stood next door to 
 Alma Villas, and was divided from them only by a road 
 which led down to the water^s edge and the Penpoodle 
 ferry boat. 
 
 " Why, everj^body is here,'"' said Miss Limpenny, 
 *^ except, of course, the Vicar. There^s Pharaoh Geddye 
 waving a flag, and blind Sam Hockin and Mrs. Hockin 
 with him, I declare, and Bathsheba Merry field, and Jim 
 the dustman, and Seth Udy in the band — he must have 
 taken the pledge lately — and Walter Sibley and a score 
 I don^t even know by sight. And, bless my heart ! that's 
 old Cobbledick, wooden leg and all ! I thought he was 
 bed-ridden for life. But I don't see the arrivals yet. 
 I wonder who that poor man is, in the crowd — it can't 
 be — and yet— — Why, whatever is the Admiral 
 doing ? " 
 
 For Admiral Buzza had opened his front gate, and 
 deliberately stepped out into the road. 
 
 The stranger, dishevelled, haggard and bewildered, 
 had long since abandoned all attempts at explanation 
 and fallen into a desperate apathy, when all at once a 
 dozen voices in front cried " Hush ! " The band broke 
 off suddenly, and the cheering died away. 
 
 " Make way for the Admiral ! " '' Out of the road, 
 there 1 " '' The Admiral's going to speak ! " '' Silence 
 for the Admiral ! " 
 
16 TROY TOWN. 
 
 "^ The stranger looked up and saw through the open, 
 ing in the crowd a little man advancing, hat in hand. 
 He had a red face, and the importance of his mission had 
 lent it even a deeper tint than it usually wore ; his bald 
 head was fringed with stiff grey hair : he was clothed 
 in ^'pepper-and-salt'^ trousers, a blue frock-coat and 
 waistcoat, and carried a large bunch of primroses in his 
 buttonhole. His step was full of dignity and his voice 
 of grave politeness, as he began, with a bow — 
 
 " Though not the accredited spokesman of my fellow- 
 citizens here, I am sure I shall not be deemed pre- 
 sumptuous " (cries of '' No " ) '' if I venture to give ex- 
 pression to some of the kindly sentiments which I am 
 sure we one and all entertain upon this auspicious occa- 
 sion.'' (Loud cheers.) " For upwards of twenty years 
 I have now resided in this beautiful and prosperous — 
 I think I may use these words" [" Hear, hear ! '')— 
 ''this beautiful and prosperous little town, and it is 
 therefore with the more sincere pleasure'' (here the 
 Admiral laid his hand upon his waistcoat) "that I bid 
 you welcome to Troy," (Frantic cheering.) " We had 
 hoped — I say we had hoped— to have seen your good lady 
 also among us to-day : but doubtless when ' The Bower ' 
 is prepared— the— ahem ! the bird will fly thither." 
 
 Vociferous applause followed this impromptu trope, 
 and for some moments the Admiral's voice was com- 
 pletely drowned. 
 
 " I hope and trust," he went on, as soon as silence 
 was restored, " that she enjoys good health." 
 
THE ADMIRAL IS CONFOUNDED. 17 
 
 The stranger looked more perplexed than ever. 
 
 '' But be that as it may — be that, I say, as it may, 
 my pleasant duty is now discharged. In the name of 
 my fellow- Trojans and in my own name I bid you a 
 hearty welcome to ' The Bower/ " (Loud and con- 
 tinuous cheering, during which the Admiral handed his 
 card with a flourish, and mopped his brow.) 
 
 ''I can assure you,^^ replied the stranger after a 
 
 pause, '^ that I am deeply sensible of your kindness " 
 
 (The cheering was renewed.) ^MYhile conscious/^ 
 he went on, " that I have done nothing to deserve it. 
 In point of fact, I think you must all be labouring 
 under some ridiculous delusion. '' 
 
 ^' What do you mean, sir?'' gasped the Admiral. 
 ^' Do you mean to say you are not the new tenant of 
 this delightful residence ?'' Then the speaker waved 
 his hand in the direction of '^ The Bower.''"' 
 
 *' Certainly I am not."" 
 
 '' Then, damme, sir ! who are you ? '' cried the 
 Admiral whose temper was, as we know, short. 
 
 '' My name is Fogo,'"* replied the stranger. " Here 
 is my card — Philip Togo — at your service.'''' 
 
 Even Miss Limpenny, with the first-floor window 
 of No. 1 timidly lifted to admit the Admiral's 
 eloquence ; even the three Misses Buzza, arranged in a 
 row behind the parlour blinds of No. 2, and gazing with 
 fond pride upon their papa ; even Mrs. Buzza, nervously 
 clasping her hands on the upper storey; — could not but 
 perceive that something dreadful was happening. The 
 o 
 
18 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Admirals face turned from crimson to purple ; he 
 positively choked. 
 
 The situation needed a solution. A wag among the 
 crowd hit upon it. 
 
 " Tell th' Admiral^ some of ^ee : what day es et ? *' 
 
 '^ Fust of April ! '^ cried a voice^ then another ; and 
 then 
 
 Then the throng broke into roar upon roar of inex- 
 tinguishable laughter. The whole deluded town turned 
 and cast its April folly, as a garment, upon the Admiral's 
 shoulders. It was in vain that he stamped and raved 
 and swore. They only held their sides and laughed the 
 louder. 
 
 The credit of Trojan humour was saved. With a final 
 oath the Admiral dashed through his front gate and into 
 the house. The volgus infidum formed in procession 
 again, and marched back with shouts of merriment ; the 
 popidaris aura of the five-and-twenty fifers resumed the 
 '' Conquering Hero/^ and Mr. Togo was left standing 
 alone in the middle of the road. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF A BLUE-JERSEYED MAN THAT WOULD HOIST NO MORE 
 bricks; and a nightcap that had NO BUSINESS 
 TO BE WHERE IT WAS. 
 
 No one acquainted with the character of that extra- 
 ordinary town will be surprised when I say that, within 
 an hour after the occurrences related in the last chapter, 
 Troy had resumed its workday quiet. By two o'clock 
 nothing was to be heard but the tick-tack of mallets in 
 the ship-building yards, the puffing of the steam-tug, 
 the rattle of hawsers among the vessels out in the 
 harbour, and the melodious '' Woo-hoo ! '^ of a crew at 
 capstan or windlass. Troy in carnival and Troy sober 
 are as opposite, you must know, as the poles. Fun is 
 all very well, but business is business, and Troy is 
 a trading port with a character to keep up : for 
 who has not heard the bye-word — '^Working like 
 a Trojan ''? 
 
 At two o'clock on this same day a little schooner lay 
 alongside the town quay, busily discharging bricks. 
 That is to say, a sunburnt man, blue-jerseyed and red 
 with brick-dust, leisurely turned a windlass which let 
 down an empty bucket and brought it up full. An- 
 other blue-jerseyed man, also sunburnt and red wiith 
 brick-dust, then pulled it on shore, emptied aod returned 
 
20 TROY TOWN. 
 
 it; and the operation was repeated. A choleric little 
 man^ of about fifty, presumably the proprietor of the 
 bricks, stood on the edge of the quay, and swore 
 rilternately at the man with the windlass and the 
 man ashore. 
 
 '^ Look ■'ere/'' said the man at the windlass, aftei 
 a bit, " Stop cussin\ This ain't a hurdy-gurdy, and 
 if you expects music you'll have to toss us a copper.'"* 
 
 The owner of the bricks swore worse than ever. 
 
 Round went the windlass as leisurely as might be, 
 
 and another bucketful was hoisted ashore. The man 
 
 on deck spat on his hands, and broke into cheerful 
 
 Bong : — 
 
 " Was you iver to Qne-bec, 
 
 Bonnie laddie, Hieland laddie ? 
 Was you iver to Que-bec, 
 Eoiising timber over the deck ? 
 
 Hey my bonny laddie ! 
 Wur-roo ! my heart's " 
 
 The rage of the little man found extra vent. 
 
 " Look here, Caleb Trotter/' he concluded, after a 
 full minute of profanity, ^'how do you think I'm 
 to get my living and pay a set of lubberly dolts 
 like you ? " 
 
 Caleb paused with his hand on the windlass, and 
 suggested retrenchment of the halfpenny a week hither- 
 to spent in manners. "'Cos, you see, all this po-lite- 
 ness o' youm es a-runnin' to waste," he explained with 
 fine irony. 
 
 But before the next load was more than three-parts 
 
MR. CALEB TROTTEB. El 
 
 hoisted, Caleb's patience was exhausted. Wliat he did 
 was simple but decisive. He removed his held; the 
 handle whizzed violently round, and the bucket of 
 bricks descended to the hold with a crash. 
 
 " Now I tell 'ee straight. Enough's enough ; an' I 
 han't got time, at my time o' life, to be po-lite to ivery 
 red-faced chap I meets. You can pay me or no, as you 
 likes; but I'm off to get a drink. An' that's all about 
 et; an' when 'tes over, 'tes over, as Joan said by 
 her weddin'." 
 
 With this Caleb stepped ashore, spat good- 
 naturedly, put his hands in his pockets, and went 
 off whistling. 
 
 At this moment Mr. Fogo, who had been on the 
 quay long enough to hear this altercation, touched him 
 softly by the arm. 
 
 ^' You said you were going to have a drink, I believe. 
 May I go with you ? I wish to ask you a few questions." 
 
 " Sutt'nly, sir," said Caleb with a stifled grin, 
 as he recognised the hero of the morning. '^ I gener- 
 ally patronises the ' King o' Prooshia ' for beer. It 
 won't make your hair curl, nor yet prevent your seein' 
 a hole dro' a ladder : but perhaps neither o' these is 
 your obJGc'." 
 
 Mr. Fogo, a little bewildered, replied modestly that 
 he pursued neither of these aims. Caleb led the way 
 across the quay, and they ascended the steps of the 
 " King of Prussia " together. 
 
 '^ My object," said Mr. Fogo timidly, as they were 
 
22 TROY TOWN. 
 
 seated together in the low-roofed parlour before two 
 foaming mugs — '' My object was this. In the first place, 
 I like your look/^ 
 
 " Same to you, sir/^ said Caleb, and acknowledged 
 the compliment with a draught, " though ■'tes what my 
 gal said afore she desarted me for a Rooshan/^ 
 
 " Are you a single man, then ? " 
 
 '^ To be sure, sir/'' 
 
 ^' So much the better — but I will talk of that pre- 
 sently. I, too, am a single man, with rather peculiar 
 tastes. One of these is solitude. I had heard of Troy 
 as a place where I was likely to find this, though my 
 experience of this morning '' 
 
 " Never mind, sir. Accidents will happen even in 
 the best reggylated families. You was took for an- 
 other, which has happened even to Bible characters 
 afore this — though Jacob's the only one I can call 
 to mind just now.'' 
 
 '^ Still, I should be sorry to go back with the 
 knowledge that my journey has been in vain. But I 
 must have solitude at any price, and the reason why I 
 am consulting you is that you might possibly know 
 of a house to let in this neighbourhood, where I could 
 be alone and secure against visitors.'^ 
 
 Caleb scratched his head. 
 
 ^' I'm sure, sir, 'tes hard to say. Troy's a powerful 
 place for knowin' what your neighbour's got for dinner, 
 and they do say as the Admiral's telescope wiU carry dro' 
 a brick wall/' 
 
AT THE " KING OF PRUSSIA." 23 
 
 Mr. Togo's face fell. 
 
 ^' Stop a bit/"* said Caleb more brightly. '' About 
 livin' inside o' the town^ now — es that a shiny cannon ? '^ 
 
 '^ A what?'' 
 
 *' A shiny cannon — which es the same as to say, 
 won't et do elst ? " 
 
 '^ Oh^ a sine-qua-non'^ said Mr. Togo ; ^^ no, I 
 am not particularly anxious to live in the town itself." 
 
 ^' Wud the matter of a mile up the river be out o' 
 the way ? " 
 
 '' Not at all." 
 
 " An' about rent ? " 
 
 " Within reasonable limits, that would not matter." 
 
 " Then my advice to you, sir, es to see the Twins 
 about et." 
 
 Mr. Togo's mild face looked more puzzled than 
 ever. He removed his spectacles, wiped and resumed 
 them. 
 
 "For any reasonable object," he said, "I am 
 ready to see any number of twins — much as I dislike 
 babies " 
 
 But here Caleb interrupted him by bursting into 
 a roar of laughter which lasted for half a minute. 
 
 " Babbies ! Wc!*! I — ho ! ho ! — 'scuse me, sir — but 
 
 aw dear, aw dear ! Babbies ! Bab " Here he 
 
 slapped his thigh and broke into another roar, at the 
 end of which he grew fairly black in the face. 
 
 " Bless yer innocent heart, sir ! They'm a matter o* 
 six foot high, the both — and risin' forty. Dearlove'g 
 
24 TROY TOWN. 
 
 their name — and lives up the river ^long wi' their sister — 
 Peter an^ Paul an' Tamsin (which es short for Thom-a- 
 si-na), an Tve heerd tell as the boys came nigh to bein' 
 chnsn'd Sihon an' Og, on'j the old Vicar said heM 
 be blowed fust — very free wi* his langvvidge was th' 
 ould Vicar/^ 
 
 '' I should fancy so/' said Mr. Togo ; " but you'll 
 excuse me if I don^t quite see^ yet, why you advise me to 
 call on these people/' 
 
 ^'No offence, sir. On'y they owns Kit's House, 
 that's all." 
 
 ''I see; and Kit's House is the place you have 
 in your mind."" 
 
 " That's et, sir." 
 
 '' And these Dearloves, where do they live ?" 
 
 '* Furder up the river by two mile.'' 
 
 *^ Could you row me up this afternoon to see 
 them ? " 
 
 Caleb Trotter arose, and drew the back of his hand 
 across his mouth. 
 
 " Wi' all the pleasure in life, sir, as Uncle Zachy 
 said when he gi'ed his da'ter in marriage." 
 
 In less than ten minutes Caleb had brought his 
 boat round to the quay. Mr. Fogo stepped in, and was 
 presently seated in the stern and meditatively lis- 
 tening while Caleb rowed—and talked — 'Mike a Tro- 
 jan." 
 
 Here we may leave them for a while and return 
 to the Admiral^ whom we left in the act of plunging 
 
THE ADMIRAL GOES TO BED. 25 
 
 furiously into his own house. It was not the habit of 
 that fiery little tar to hide his emotions from the wife 
 of his bosom. 
 
 '' Emily ! '' he bellowed, " Em-i-ly, I say ! Come 
 down this instant/^ 
 
 The three Misses Buzza at the parlour window 
 knew the tone, and shuddered: Mrs. Buzza, up-stairs, 
 heard, trembled, and obeyed. 
 
 " Yes, darling. What is it ? '' 
 
 '^ Fill the warming-pan at once. I'm going to 
 bed.'^ 
 
 '^ To bed, love ! '' 
 
 '^ Yes, to bed. Don't I speak plainly enough ? To 
 bed, ma'am, to bed, and at once." 
 
 *' You are upset, dearest ; be cool, I implore you." 
 
 '' Be cool ! Be coo' — Don't hector me, ma'am, 
 but fetch that warmicg-pan at once. I'll teach you 
 about being cool ! Sophy, pull off my boots." 
 
 They obeyed. The warming-pan was brought — 
 an enormous engine, big enough to hold the Admiral 
 himself — and the bed heated. The Admiral undressed, 
 and, himself a warming-pan of rage, plunged between 
 the sheets. It was a wonder the bed-clothes were not 
 on fire. 
 
 " Pull down the blind, and bring me something to 
 eatl" 
 
 " Yes, love." 
 
 ^'And be quick about it. Can't you see I'm 
 starving ? " 
 
2G TROY TOWN. 
 
 It is true that the Admirals excitement had inter- 
 fered with his breakfast that mornings but it was none 
 the less difficult to read starvation upon his face. Mrs. 
 Buzza obeyed, however; and presently returned with 
 the liver-wing of a fowl. 
 
 " You call that a dinner for a hungry man, I sup- 
 pose ! Bring me some more ! ^' 
 
 ^' My dear, I didn't know you wanted a dinner." 
 
 '' Confound it, ma'am ! must I put dress studs in 
 my night-shirt to convince you I want to dine ? 
 Bring me some more ! '' 
 
 '^ There is no more fowl, dear. I kept this from 
 yesterday's as a tit-bit for you."" 
 
 ^' What is for dinner to-day ? '' 
 
 '^Boiled beef: but you said expressly that dinner 
 was to be late to day, in consequence of the arrivals, 
 and it is not nearly done yet." 
 
 '^ I don't care, bring it 1 '' 
 
 The mention of the arrivals sent the Admiral up 
 to a white heat again. 
 
 " But, my '' 
 
 " Bring it ! '' 
 
 It was brought. The Admiral had two helpings, 
 and then a glass of grog. 
 
 '' Go." 
 
 Mrs. Buzza withdrew. Left to himself, the 
 Admiral tossed, and turned, and fumed, and swore, 
 lay still for a while, and then repeated the process 
 backwards. After a time the bed-clothes began to 
 
THE HONOURABLE FREDERIC ARRIVES. 27 
 
 prick him, and the heat to become a positive torture. 
 He leapt out, and tore at the bell-rope, until it came 
 away in his hand — just as his wife reappeared. 
 
 '' Will you kindly inform me what the devil's 
 wrong with this bed ? Who made it ? '* 
 
 " Selina, dear.'' 
 
 ^' Then will you kindly give Selina a montVs notice 
 on the spot ? Do you hear ? On the spot — What's that ? " 
 
 The Admiral rushed to the window and pulled up 
 the blind. He was just in time to see a close carriage 
 and pair dash past and pull up at ^ The Bower.^ 
 
 A moment afterwards, Miss Limpenny, from the 
 first-storey window of No. 1, saw the carriage door 
 open, and a tall gentleman emerge. The tall gentle- 
 man was followed by a lady, whom even at that distance 
 Miss Limpenny could see to possess a remarkably grace- 
 ful figure. A small youth in livery sprang down from 
 beside the coachman and helped to lower the boxes, 
 whilst the new arrivals passed into the house where 
 the charwoman, Mrs. Snell, stood smearing her face 
 with her apron, and ducking in frenzied welcome. 
 
 The Honourable Frederic Augustus Hythe Goodwyn- 
 Sandys and his wife, instead of arriving by train, had 
 posted from Five-Lanes Junction. 
 
 There was no public demonstration. They might 
 as well have come in the dead of night. Miss Lim- 
 penny was almost the sole witness of their arrival, 
 and Miss Limpenny^s observations were cut short by a 
 terrible occurrence. 
 
28 TROY TOWN. 
 
 She had taken stock of the Honourable Fredericj 
 and pronounced him '^ aristocratic-looking ; '^ of the 
 Honourable Mrs. Frederic's travelling dress, and 
 decided it to be Cumeelfo ; she had counted the 
 boxes twice^ and made them seven each time ; she was 
 about to count the buttons on the liveried youth, 
 when 
 
 To this day she sinks her voice as she narrates it. 
 She saw — the unseemliness, the monstrous indelicacy 
 of it ! — she saw — the nightcap and shoulders of Admiral 
 Buzza craning out of the next-door window ! 
 
 What happened next ? Whether she actually fainted, 
 or merely kept her eyes shut, she cannot clearly re- 
 member. But for weeks afterwards, as she declares, the 
 sight of a man caused her to ^^ turn all colours.^^ 
 
 It was significant, this nightcap of Admiral 
 Buzza — as the ram's horn to Jericho, the Mother 
 Carey's chicken to the doomed ship. It announced, 
 even as it struck, the first blow at the old morality 
 of Troy. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF CERTAIN LEPERS; AND TWO BROTHERS^ WHO, BEING 
 MUCH ALIKE, LOVED THEIR SISTER, AND RECOM- 
 MENDED THE USE OF GLOBES. 
 
 I MUST here clear myself on a point which has no doubt 
 caused the reader some indignation. '^ We remarked/^ 
 he or she will say, ^''that, some chapters back, the 
 Admiral described Troy as a ^beautiful little town.^ 
 Why, then, have we had no description of it, no digres- 
 sions on scenery, no word-painting ? " 
 
 To this I answer — Dear sir, or madam, no one who 
 has known Troy was ever yet capable of describing it. 
 If you doubt me, visit the town and see for yourself. 
 I will for the moment suppose you to do so. What 
 happens ? 
 
 On the first day you take a boat and row about the 
 harbour. " Scenery ! " you exclaim, '^ why, what could 
 you have more ? Here is a lovely harbour flanked by 
 bold hills to right and left ; here are the ruined castles, 
 witnesses of the great days when Troy sent ships to 
 carry the English army to Agincourt; here are grey 
 houses huddled at the water^s edge, hoary, battered walls, 
 and quay-doors coated with ooze and green weed. Such 
 is Troy, and on the further shore quaint Penpoodle faces 
 it, where a silver creek, dividing, runs up to Lanber;; 
 
30 TROY TOWN. 
 
 further up, the harbour melts into a river Tvhere the old 
 ferry-boat plies to and from the foot of a tiny village 
 straggling up the hill; further yet, and the jetties 
 mingle with the steep woods beside the roads, where the 
 vessels lie thickest; ships of all builds and of all nations, 
 from the trim Canadian timber-ship to the corpulent 
 Billy-boy. Why, the very heart of the picturesque is 
 here. What more can you want ? " 
 
 On the second day you will see all this from the 
 harbour again, or perhaps you will cross the ferry and 
 climb the King^s Walk on the opposite bank ; you will 
 see it all, but with a change. It is more lovely, but not 
 the same. 
 
 On the third day you will cast about in your mind 
 to explain this ; and so in time you will come to find 
 that it is the spirit of Troy that plays this trick upon 
 you. For you will have learnt to love the place, and 
 love, as you know, dear sir or madam, is apt to affect 
 the eyesight. 
 
 The eyes of Mr. Fogo, as Caleb pulled sturdily up 
 with the tide, were passing through the first of these 
 stages. 
 
 " This,^^ he said at length, reflectively, ^' is one of 
 the loveliest spots I have looked upon.^' 
 
 Caleb, in whom humanity and Trojanity were nicely 
 compounded, flushed a bright copper-colour with plea- 
 sure. 
 
 *^ 'Tes reckoned a tidy spot,^"* he answered modestly, 
 " by them as cares for voos an' such-like.'^ 
 
MR. TROTTEE ON ^' LEPPARDS/' 31 
 
 "There, now/' he went on, after a pause, and turning 
 round, *^ yonder s Kit^s House, wi' Kit's Cottage, next 
 door. You can't see the house so plain, 'cos 'tes behind 
 the trees. But there 'tes, right enough." 
 
 ^' Is the cottage uninhabited too ? ^' 
 
 " Both on 'em. Ha'nted they do say. By the way, 
 I niver axed ^ee whether you minded ghostes ? *' 
 
 '^Ghosts?'' 
 
 "Iss, ghostes. This 'ere place was a Lazarus one 
 time, where they kept leppards." 
 
 '^ Leopards ? How very singular 1 " murmured Mr. 
 Togo. 
 
 "Ay, leppards as white as snow, as the sayin' 
 goes." 
 
 " Oh, I see,^' said Mr. Fogo, suddenly enlightened. 
 " You mean that this was a Lazar-house.'* 
 
 " That's so — a Lazarus. The leppards used to live 
 there together, and when they died, they was berried at 
 dead o' night down at thicky spit you sees yonder. No 
 one had dealings wi^ ^em nor went nigh 'em, ''cept that 
 they was allowed to make ropes. "'Tesn' so many years 
 that the rope-walk was moved down to th' harbour 
 mouth.''' 
 
 Caleb stopped rowing, and leant forward on his 
 paddles. 
 
 "These 'ere leppards in time got to be quite a happy 
 famb'ly — 'cept, of course, they warn't happy, 'cos nobody 
 wudn' have nuthin' to say to 'em. Well, the story goes 
 as one on 'em got failed in love wi' by a very nice gal 
 
32 TROY TOWN. 
 
 down in Troy^ and one fine day she ups an' tells her 
 sorrowin' parents that she's agoin' to marry a leppard. 
 'Not ef we knows et/ says they; 'we forbids the banns ;^ 
 and wi' that they went off to bed thinkin' as they^d 
 settled et. ' But/ says Parson Lasky " 
 
 " Who was he ? " interrupted Mr. Togo. 
 
 '' On'y a figger o' speech, sir, and nothin* to do wi' 
 the yarn, as the strollin' actor said when his theayti^r 
 cotched a-fire. Wot I meant was, that very night the 
 gal gets a boat an' rows up to Kit's House, arter leavin' 
 a letter to say as she'd drownded hersel'. An* there she 
 lived in hidin', 'long wi' the leppards for the rest of her 
 days, which, by the tale, warn't many, an' she an' her 
 sweetheart w^as berried in wan grave." Caleb paused 
 for breath. 
 
 *' And the ghosts ? '' said Mr. Fogo, much interested. 
 
 " Some ha' seed her rowin' about here in a boat, o' 
 dark nights ; and others swear to seein' all the leppards 
 a-marchin' down wi' her corpse to the berryin'-ground. 
 Leastways, that's the tale. Jan Spettigue was the last 
 as seed 'em, but as he be'eld three devils on his own 
 chimbly-piece the week arter, along o' too much rum, 
 p'r'aps he made a mistake. Anyways, 'tes a moral yarn, 
 an' true to natur'. These young wimmen es a very de- 
 tarmined sex, whether 'tes a leppard in the case or a 
 Rooshan." 
 
 Mr. Fogo had fallen into a reflective silence. 
 
 '''Tes a thousand pities this 'ere place should be 
 empty, wi' a lean-to Crystal Pallis — by which I means 
 
kit's house. 38 
 
 a conserva-tory, sir— an' gardens, an' room for a cow, 
 an' a Pyll of ets own " 
 
 ''A what?'' 
 
 '' Pyll, sir, otherwise a creek — ' c, r, double e, k — an 
 arm o' the sea/ as the spellin' book says." 
 
 A curious fascination stole over Mr. Fogo as he 
 looked earnestly at the house round which these memories 
 hung. Standing on an angle formed by the bending 
 river, and the little creek, and behind a screen of trees- 
 elms almost too old to feel the sap of spring, a chestnut 
 or two, and a few laurels and sombre firs, that had cracked 
 with their roots the grey garden- wall and sprawled 
 down to the beach below — the stained and yellow 
 frontage looked down towards the busy harbour, as it 
 seemed with a sense of serene decay, haunted but with- 
 out disquietude, like the face of an old lady who has 
 memories and lives in them, though she deigns to con- 
 template a life from which her hopes, with her old 
 friends and lovers, have dropped out. Perhaps Mr. Fogo 
 had some sympathy with this mood : for Caleb, after 
 waiting some time for his reply, took to his paddles 
 again with a „ will, and presently the boat, sweeping 
 round a projecting rock, passed into a very different 
 scene. 
 
 Here the river, shut in on the one side with budding 
 trees to the water's edge, on the other with bracken and 
 patches of ploughed land to where the cliffs broke sheer 
 away, stretched for some miles without bend or break. 
 Far ahead a blue bank of woodland closed the view. 
 
34 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Not a sound disturbed the stillness, not a sail broke the 
 placid expanse of water. 
 
 But a true Trojan must still be talking. Presently 
 Caleb resumed. 
 
 " 'T es a luvly spot, as you said, sir. Mr. Moggridge 
 down at the customs — he's a poet, as maybe you know 
 — has written a mint o' verses about this 'ere place. 
 ' Natur',' he says : — 
 
 " Natur' has 'ere assoomed her softest garb ; 
 'Ere would I live an' die 
 
 — which I calls a very touchin' sentiment, an' like what 
 they says in a nigger song/' 
 
 With such conversation Mr. Trotter beguiled the 
 way until they came abreast of a tiny village almost 
 buried in apple trees and elms. On the opposite bank, 
 a thin column of blue smoke was curling up from among 
 the dense woodland. 
 
 Caleb headed the boat for this smoke, ran her nose 
 on the pebbles beneath a low cliff, and stepped out. 
 
 " 'Ere we are, sir." 
 
 ^^But I don't see any house," said Mr. Togo, per- 
 plexed. 
 
 '' All in good time, sir," replied Mr. Trotter, and 
 having fastened up the boat, led the way. 
 
 A narrow flight of steps, hewn out of the rock, led 
 up to the little cliff. At the top, and almost hidden by 
 bushes, stood a low gate. Thence the path wound for a 
 space between walls of budding hazel, and at its end 
 
TAM8IN. 35 
 
 quite unexpectedly a tiny cottage burst upcn Mr. Fogo's 
 view. 
 
 Little dreaming that the owner of Kit^s House 
 could live in such humility, he was considerably sur- 
 prised when Caleb stepped up and struck a rousing 
 knock upon the door. 
 
 It was opened by a comely girl with a white apron 
 pinned before her neat stuff gown^ and a face as fresh 
 and healthful as a spring day. 
 
 " Why, Caleb/' she cried, '' who would have 
 thought it ? Come inside; you're as welcome as flowers 
 in May.'' 
 
 ^' And you," replied Caleb gallantly, ^' are a-lookin' 
 so sweet as blossom. Here's a gentlem'n come to call 
 upon 'ee, my dear. An' how's Peter an' Paul ? Brave, 
 I hopes." 
 
 " Both, thank you, Caleb," said the maiden, 
 curtseying without embarrassment to Mr. Togo. 
 '^ Won't you come in, sir ? " 
 
 It was noticeable that Mr. Fogo at this point became 
 very nervous, but he crossed the threshold in answer to 
 this invitation. Mr. Trotter followed. 
 
 The fragrant smoke of a wood fire filled the room in 
 which Mr. Fogo found himself. It was a rude kitchen, 
 with white limeash floor, and for ceiling, a few white- 
 washed beams and the planching of the bedroom above. 
 All W38 scrupulously clean. In the flickering obscurity 
 of the chimney depended a Ihie of black pothooks and 
 hangers ; a trivet and a pair of bellows furnished the 
 
36 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 hearth ; from the capacious rack huno^ a rich stock of 
 hams and sides of bacon, curing in the smoke ; an 
 English clock stood in one corner^ a tall cupboard in 
 another, and a geranium in the window-seat. Along 
 the side opposite the door, and parallel to a dresser of 
 shining crockery, ran a strong deal table. Some high- 
 backed chairs, a pair of brass candlesticks with snuffers, 
 a book or two, a f^ew old hats, and a lanthorn, on various 
 pegs, completed the furniture of the place. 
 
 But Mr. Fogo^s gaze was riveted on two men who 
 rose together at his entrance from the table where they 
 were seated, side by side, at their tea. 
 
 Both tall, both adorned with crisp curls of black 
 hair — with clean-shaven, mahogany faces, and the 
 gentlest of possible smiles, the twins came forward to 
 greet the stranger. So appallingly alike were they that 
 Mr. Fogo felt a ridiculous desire to run away, nor 
 could help fancying himself the victim of a disordered 
 dream. 
 
 The Twins advanced upon him simultaneously with 
 outstretched horny palms. He noticed that even their 
 dress was precisely similar, with the single exception 
 that one wore a red, the other a yellow, bandanna hand- 
 kerchief loosely knotted about his throat. 
 
 '^You'm kindly welcome, sir/' said the Twin with 
 the red bandanna ; and the Twin with the yellow neck 
 cloth murmured " kindly welcome,'^ like an echo. 
 
 ^' Stop a bit,'' interposed Caleb, ^' let's do a bit o' 
 introducin'. This here es Mr. Fogo^ gent, as es thinkin' 
 
THE TWINS. 37 
 
 of rentin' Kit's Houses and es come for that puppos'. 
 That there es Peter Dearlove — him wi' the red necker- 
 cher j likewise Paul Dearlove — him wi' the yaller. An', 
 beggin' yer pardon for passin' over the ladies, this es 
 Tamsin Dearlove (christ'nM Thomasina), dearly beloved 
 sister o' the same/^ concluded Caleb, with a sudden 
 recollection of having read something like this on a 
 tombstone. 
 
 Tamsin curtseyed, and the two horny palms were 
 again presented. Not knowing which to take first, Mr. 
 Fogo held his umbrella between his knees and gave them 
 a hand a-piece. 
 
 " I am afraid, Mr. *' he hesitated with a sus- 
 picion that he ought to say " Messrs.'^ 
 
 "Dearlove,'^ suggested Caleb; *^an' reckoned a 
 purty name, too.''' 
 
 '^ I am afraid, Mr. Dearlove,^' repeated Mr. Fogo, 
 compromising matters by staring hard between the 
 Twins, " that we have interrupted you.'' 
 
 '^ Not at all, sir," said Peter. '^ Sit down, sir, ef 
 you'm not proud. Tamsin, bring a cup for the gentle- 
 man. A piece o' pasty, sir? Tamsin es famous for 
 pasties." 
 
 Mr. Fogo, remembering that, with the exception of 
 the mug of beer at the *' King of Prussia," he had not 
 broken his fast since the morning, and seeing also that 
 the hrspitality was anxiously sincere, complied. In a 
 few moments both he and Caleb were seated before a 
 steaming pasty. 
 
38 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Tamsin poured out the tea. She was a full twenty 
 years younger than her brothers, as could be seen 
 notwithstanding their boyish look, which came from 
 innocence and clean-shaven faces. It was pleasant to 
 see their almost fatherly pride in her. Mr. Togo noted 
 it vaguely, but an inexplicable nervousness seemed to 
 have overtaken him since entering the cottage. 
 
 " I came/' he said at last, " to inquire about Kit's 
 House, which I hear is to let.-" 
 
 '^ Thankin' you kindly, sir/' answered Peter ; '^ an' 
 I won't say but what we shall be glad to let et. But 
 Paul and I ha' been puttin' our heads togither, and we 
 allow 'tes for Tamsin to say." 
 
 Here he looked at Paul, who nodded gravely and 
 repeated, in his former mechanical tone, ^^ for Tamsin to 
 say." 
 
 Mr. Fosro looked more distressed than ever. 
 
 ^'1 beg your pardon, I'm sure," he began, with 
 a quick glance at the girl, who was quietly pouring tea ; 
 '' I did not know." 
 
 " No offence, sir. On'y, don't you see, 'tes this way. 
 Kit's House es a gran' place wi' a slaty roof an' a 
 I-talian garden, and a mighty deal too fine for the likes 
 of Paul an' me. But wi' Tamsin 'tes another thing. 
 We both agree she ought to be a leddy — not but what 
 she's a better gal than tens o' thousands o' leddies — an' 
 more than once we've offered to get her larnt the 
 pi-anner an^ callysthenics, an' the use o' globes, an' all 
 such things which we. knows to be usual in gran' 
 
THE USE O* GLOBES. 39 
 
 Bussiety ; on'y she sticks to et to bide along wi' we. 
 God bless her ! I say, an' a rough life et must be for 
 her/' 
 
 Tamsin turned away towards the fireplace, and 
 became very busy among the pothooks and hangers. 
 Her brother pulled out a red handkerchief — a fellow to 
 the one around his neck — mopped his face and pro- 
 ceeded — 
 
 ^'Well, as I was a-saying*, seein' she was bent on 
 bein' wi' us, Paul and me allowed to each other that 
 we'd set up in fine style at Kit's House, so as not to rob 
 her of what es her doo : that es to say — one of us wou'd 
 live down there wi' a car'ge and pair o^ bosses, and cut a 
 swell wi' dinner parties an* what-not, while the other 
 bided here an' tilled ^taties, turn and turn about. But 
 she wudn' hear o' that, neither. She's a terrible 
 stubborn gal, bless her ! '' 
 
 " We shou'd ha' been slow at lamin' the ropes, 
 just at fust,'' he resumed after a moment's silence, " not 
 bein' scholards, parti kler at the use o' globes, which I 
 have heerd es diffycult, though very entertainin' in com- 
 pany when you knows how 'tes done. But we was 
 ready to try a hand — on'y she wudn' have et, an' so et 
 has gone on. But, beggin' your pardon, sir, and hopin' 
 no offence, she shall give her answer afore 'tes too late. 
 Eh, Paul?" 
 
 '^ You have spoken, Peter," said the other twin, very 
 slowly, " like a printed book. Let Tamsin speak her 
 mind about et." 
 
40 TROY TOWN, 
 
 The girl came forward from the fireplace, and IMr. 
 FogOj as he stole a glance at her, could see that her eyes 
 were red. 
 
 " What do ^ee say, Tamsin ? Must we let Kit's 
 House, or shall we leave th' ould place an' go an' make a 
 leddyof 'ee?'' 
 
 Tamsin's reply was to fall on her knees before the 
 speaker and break into a fit of weeping. 
 
 " Don't ask me, don't ask me ! I don't want to be 
 a lady, an' I won't leave you. Don't ask me, my dear, 
 dear brothers ! " 
 
 Peter stroked the dark head buried in his lap, while 
 Paul blew his nose violently in a yellow bandanna, and 
 replied to Mr. Togo. 
 
 " Very well, sir, so be et. There's the key of Kit's 
 House yonder on the nail. Ef you likes to look over the 
 place, one of us will follow you presently, and then, sup- 
 posin' et to be to your likin', us can talk over terms.'* 
 
 ^^>^ 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 HOW AN ABSENT-MINDED MAN, THAT HATED WOMEN, TOOK 
 A HOUSE BY THE WATER-SIDE, AND LIVED THEEEIN 
 WITH ONE SERVANT. 
 
 "Well, sir/^ said Caleb Trotter, when the boat was 
 pushed off, " what do 'ee think of ^em ? ^' 
 
 Mr. Fog^o, whose wits had been wool-gathering, 
 came to himself with a start. " I think they are very 
 good people/"* 
 
 '^ You may say that ! The likes o' those Twins you 
 won't see again, not ef you live to be a hunderd. Seems 
 to me,'' he went on reflectively, '' that Natur', when she 
 turned out the fust, got so pleased wi' herself that she 
 was bound to try her hand at a dooplicity, just to re- 
 lieve her feelin's." 
 
 " A what ? " 
 
 "A dooplicity, sir, otherwise another o^ the same 
 identical." 
 
 "Oh, I see." 
 
 " Iss, sir, 'Tes like that rhyme about the Force o' 
 Natur' what cudn' no furder go, and you can't do 't 
 agen, not ef you try all you know." 
 
 " You are fond of poetry, I see," said Mr. Fogo, 
 with \sn?^ 
 
 % 
 
42 TROY TOWN. 
 
 " Puffec^ly dotes on et^ sir/' 
 
 " Have you ever composed any yourself ? *' 
 
 " Once 'pon a time, sir/' said Caleb, pausing in his 
 work, and leaning forward very mysteriously. "Ef 
 you cares to hear, I don't mind tellin' 'ee; on'y you 
 must gi' me your Davy you won't let et out to no- 
 body." 
 
 Mr. Fogo gave the required promise. 
 
 "Well, 'twas in this way. Onr^ ^pon a time, me 
 an' old Joe Bonaday was workin' a smack round from 
 Bristol. The Betsy Aim was her name, No. 1077 o' 
 Troy. Joe was skipper, an' me mate ; there was a boy 
 aboard for crew, but he don't count. Well, us got off 
 Ilfrycombe one a'ternoon — August month et was, an' 
 pipin' hot — when my blessed parlyment, says Molly 
 Franky " 
 
 " Who was she ? " 
 
 " Another figger o' speech sir, that's all. Well, as 
 I was a-sayin', on a sudden, lo and be'old ! the breeze 
 drops dead. Ef you'll believe me, sir, 'twas calm as the 
 Sar'gossa Sea. So there we was stuck — the sail not so 
 much as flappin'' — for the best part o' two hour ; at the 
 end o' which time (Joe not bein' a convussational man 
 beyond say in' ' tbankye' when he got hes vittles) I was 
 gettin' a bit dumbfoundered for topicks to talk 'pon. 
 'Cos, as for the weather, there 'twas, an', as Joe re- 
 marked, 'twasn' goin' to move any more for our discus- 
 sin' of et, nor yet cussin' for that matter." 
 
 "I see." 
 
"CORYDON CiVM THYRSTDE." 43 
 
 " Well, sir, we was driven at last to singin' a hymn 
 to keep our sperrits up. Leastways, the boy an^ me 
 sang, an^ Joe beat time. Then says Joe, ' Look 'ere, 
 I'm a-goin' to allee-couehee ef et lasts like this.' 
 ' Well,' I says, for I was get tin' desprit, ' have 'ee ever 
 tried to make poetry ? ' ^ No,' says he, ' can't say I 
 have.' * Well,' I says, ' I've of t'n wanted to. Let's ha' 
 a shy. You go aft and think of a verse, an' I'll go 
 forra'd an' make another, an' then us'll see which sounds 
 best.' ^ Done,' says he, an' off he goes. 
 
 '^ Well, I sits there for mor'n an hour, thinkin' hard, 
 and terrable work I found et. At last Joe shouts across, 
 * Hav'ee done ? Time's up ; ' and I told 'un I'd done 
 purty middlin'. So us stepped amidships, and spoke out 
 what us had made." 
 
 Caleb made a long pause. 
 
 '* I should like to hear the verses, if you remember 
 them," said Mr. Fogo. 
 
 '^ Should 'ee now ? " Caleb asked with fine modesty. 
 " Well, I don't mind, on'y you mus'n' expect 'em to be 
 like Maister Moggridge's. Mine went thicky way." 
 He recited very slowly, with a terrific rolling of syl- 
 lables : — 
 
 " See her ghdin' dro' the water, 
 Far, far away ! 
 Many a true heart's niver to be found. 
 
 The last line alludes to my gal wot had recently e-loped 
 wi' the Rooshan," Caleb explained. 
 "Was that all?" 
 
44 TROY TOWN. 
 
 '^ Tliat was all o' mine, sir, but Joe's was points 
 better. Just listen : — 
 
 Fare thee well, Barnstaple steeple,— 
 
 (He was a Barnstaple man, sir, was Joe) — 
 
 Fare thee well, I say, 
 Never shall I see thee, once agen, a long time ago. 
 
 Well, sir, we was just a-goin' to step back an' have an- 
 other shy, when the breeze sprang up a'most as sudden 
 as et fell, and the consikence es, sir, that Vve niver made 
 no more poetry from that day to this." 
 
 The sun was getting low, as Mr. Fogo and Caleb 
 stepped ashore on the ruined quay at Kit's House, not 
 far from the spit of land where the lazars were buried. 
 Kit's Cottage stood plain to see at a short distance from 
 the water, but Kit's House lay to the right, behind its 
 screen of laurels and elms. A narrow flight of steps and 
 a path along the cliff's edge brought the visitors to the 
 front door. 
 
 It was a long, low house, with pointed windows on 
 the upper storey, and a deep verandah shading the 
 ground-floor rooms. It faced the south, and although 
 few flowers were out, the ruined garden was luxuriant 
 with decay. One could see where the old Lazar-house 
 had been overlaid with tlie taste of more recent inhabi- 
 tants, but, as Caleb said, no one had lived here now for 
 a dozen years or more. The walls were smeared with 
 green vegetation ; the iron gate creaked heavily with 
 
CALEB TAKES SERVICE. 45 
 
 rust. On the roof the stonecrop flourished, and 
 the swallows had. built their nests about the 
 chimneys. 
 
 Indoors it was as bad. Rich papers hung and rotted 
 from the walls ; rats scampered about the floors over- 
 head ; a smell of damp and mouldiness pervaded every 
 room. 
 
 ^^ Deary me, sir!'^ said Caleb in despair, *'I'd no idee 
 'twas as bad as this, or I wou'dn' have mentioned the 
 place to 'ee." 
 
 An old barrel stood on end before the French- 
 window of the drawing-room. Mr. Togo seated himself 
 on this, and gazed meditatively out on the mellow glory 
 of the evening. 
 
 '^ Caleb/^ he said very quietly, after a while, *' I 
 think I shall take this house.^' 
 
 " You will, sir? ^' 
 
 '^ I fancy there will be no difiiculty in arranging 
 about the rent. And now I want to speak with you 
 on another question. You are a single man, you say. 
 Have you any employment ? '^ 
 
 ^' Why, sir, I mostly picks up my livin' on the say, 
 on'y I thought as how IM like a spell ashore for a 
 change ; but the end o^ that you saw for yourself this 
 very afternoon.'' 
 
 ^' Do you think that for a pound a week you could 
 look after me ? " 
 
 '' I'd like the chance,'' 
 
 " That would exclude your food and clothes.^' 
 
46 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Caleb hesitated for a moment, and then said, with 
 Trojan independence — 
 
 " You bean^t a-goin' to rig me out in a yaller weskit 
 an^ small-clothes wi' a stripe down the leg, by any 
 chance ? '' 
 
 " I was proposing that you should dress exactly as 
 you do at present/' 
 
 " Then done wi' you, sir, an'' thank 'ee. When be 
 I to enter on my dooties ? " 
 
 '' At once/' 
 
 ''An' where, sir?'^ 
 
 " Here." 
 
 '^ Be you a-goin' to sleep the night in this molon- 
 choly place ? "" 
 
 '' Certainly." 
 
 '^ Very well, sir. Please yoursel', as Dick said to 
 the press-gang. An' what be I to do fust ? " 
 
 Mr. Eogo perhaps did not hear the question, for he 
 was gazing out again at the falling shadows : when he 
 spoke again it was upon another subject. 
 
 '' It is right that you should know," said he, " the 
 kind of life you will be wanted to lead. In the first 
 place, I am extraordinarily subject to fits of abstraction 
 — absence of mind, in other words. It is an affection to 
 which my style of life has made me particularly prone : 
 it has led me before now into absurd, and sometimes 
 into dangerous situations. 
 
 " I have heard tell," said Caleb, '* of an old 
 gentl'm'n as carefully tucked hes umbrella in bed an' 
 
MR. FOGO'S CONFESSION. 47 
 
 put liissel' in the corner. Es that the style o' thing, 
 sir ? '' 
 
 '^ It is something similar/^ said his master, " and 
 within certain hmits 1 should expect you to look after 
 me and as far as possible prevent such accidents : how- 
 ever, I shall not, of course, expect you to have more 
 than one pair of eyes. My tastes are simple. I read a 
 little, sketch a little, botanise, dabble in chemistry, am 
 fond of carpentering — boat-building especially. My 
 very absence of mind makes me indifferent to surround- 
 ings. In short, I am a mild man.''^ 
 
 Mr. Fogo got off his barrel, went to the window, 
 sighed softly, and returned. Something in his manner 
 imposed silence on Caleb. 
 
 '' We shall live alone here,'^ he resumed. " It is 
 even possible that, to ensure solitude, I shall rent the 
 cottage as well, and install you there. Above all things, 
 remember,''^ with sudden sternness, '^ that no woman is to 
 come near this house — I shall even expect you to do 
 your utmost to prevent their landing on the quay below. 
 That, I think, is all. I now wish you to row down to 
 the station and get my portmanteau. After that, with 
 this money procure a couple of hammocks, besides pro- 
 visions and whatever will be necessary for the night, 
 not forgetting soap and candles. To-morrow we will 
 take in further stock.'''' 
 
 Caleb was about to make some answer when the 
 garden gate creaked heavily, and Peter Dearlove 
 appeared in the dusk outside the window ; so he merely 
 
48 TROY TOWN. 
 
 took the money, touched his forelock by way of acknow- 
 ledging his new employment^ and retired. But it was 
 noticeable that once or twice on his way to the boat he 
 had to pull himself up and think a bit. Arrived on the 
 quay, too, he stood for a moment or so beside the boat 
 in profound meditation. 
 
 '' Come, Caleb Trotter ! '' he exclaimed, suddenly 
 jumping in and seizing the paddles ; ^^ this sort o' thing 
 won't do, nohow. Here you be paid for lookin' 
 arter a gentPm'n as wanders in hes wits, and fust 
 news es, you be doin' the same yoursel\ 'Tus terribul 
 queer, though,^' he added, and with that began to 
 row towards town with an energy that set the boat 
 quivering. 
 
 When he returned, in less than two hours' time, he 
 found Mr. Fogo with a barrel full of water and the 
 stump of a decayed broom, washing out the back kitchen. 
 The Twin had gone. 
 
 " Here we be, sir. Pound o' candles, pound o' tea, 
 two loaves of bread, knives, forks, two cups, three eggs 
 — one on 'em smashed, in my trowsy pocket — saucepan, 
 kettle, tea-pot, an' a hunk o' cold beef as salt as Lot's 
 wife's elbow. That's the fust load. There's more in the 
 boat, but I must ax'ee to bear a hand wi' thicky port- 
 man ty o' yourn, 'cos 'tes mortal heavy. I see'd Jan 
 Higgs's wife a-fishin' about two hunderd yards from 
 the quay, on my way up, an' warned her to keep her 
 distance. There's a well o' water round at the back, an 
 I've fetched a small sack o' coal, and ef us don't have 
 
MR. FOGO SETTLES DOWN. 49 
 
 a dish o' tay ready in a brace o^ shakes, then Tom's 
 killed an' Mary's forlorn/' 
 
 With the statement of which gloomy alternative 
 Mr. Caleb Trotter broke into a smile of honest pride. 
 
 '^ Caleb/' said ]Mr. Fogo from his hammock in the 
 back kitchen at about eleven o'clock on the same 
 night. 
 
 " Aye, aye_, sir." 
 
 " Are you comfortable ? " 
 
 ^^Thank'ee, sir, gettin' on nicely. Just a bit 
 Man- Friday ish to begin wi/ but as corrat as Crocker^s 
 mare."" 
 
 " What did you say ?" 
 
 ''Figger o' speech agen, sir, that's all. Good- 
 night, sir." 
 
 '' Good-night, Caleb." 
 
 Mr. Fogo settled himself in his hammock^ sighed 
 for a second time, and dropped asleep. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HOW CERTAIN TROJANS CLIMBED A WALL OUT OF CURIOSITY : 
 AND OF A CHAKWOMAN THAT COULD GIVE NO IN- 
 FORMATION. 
 
 Meanwhile, curiosity in Troy was beating its wings 
 against the closed doors of 'The Bower.'' The early 
 morning train next day brought three domestics to 
 supplement the youth in buttons, and supplant the 
 charwoman. Miss Limpenny, in deshabille (but at 
 a decent distance from the window^), saw them arrive, 
 and called Lavinia to look^ with the result that within 
 two minutes the sisters had satisfied themselves as to 
 which was the cook, which the parlour-maid, and which 
 the kitchen-maid. 
 
 Later in the day, a van-load of furniture arrived, 
 though ' The Bower ' was already furnished ; but, as 
 Miss Limpenny said, in all these matters of comfort 
 and refinement, '' there are degrees.^^ On this occasion 
 the Admiral, who had been prevailed upon to leave 
 his bed, executed a manoeuvre the audacity of which 
 should have commanded success. 
 
 He crossed the road, and opened a conversation 
 with the driver. 
 
 But success does not alwavs wait on the brave. 
 
THE ADMIBAL MANCBUVRBS. 61 
 
 The van-driver happened to have a temper as short as 
 the Admiral's^ and far less reverence. 
 
 '* Good-morning/^ said the Admiral, cheerily. 
 
 " Mornin'/' 
 
 '' What's a-foot to-day ?'' 
 
 " Same as yesterday — twelve inches/' 
 
 The Admiral was rather taken aback, but smiled, 
 nevertheless, and persevered. 
 
 '' Ha, ha ! very good. You are a wit, I perceive.'* 
 
 But the driver^s conversation teemed with the unex- 
 pected. 
 
 " Look 'ere, Ruby-face ! give me any more of yer 
 sass an' I'll punch yer 'ed for tuppence." 
 
 This was conclusive. The Admiral struck his 
 flag, re-crossed the street, went indoors, and had 
 it out with Mrs. Buzza. Indeed, at the end of 
 half an hour that poor lady's feelings were so over- 
 wrought, and, in consequence, her sobs so loud, that the 
 Admiral had perforce to get out his double-bass and 
 play a selection of martial music to prevent Miss 
 Limpenny's hearing them on the other side of the 
 partition. 
 
 All this happened early in the afternoon. Towards 
 five o'clock, Miss Limpenny, who had only left her post 
 twice, and on each occasion to snatch a hurried meal, 
 was re-warded for her patience. Tbe front door of 
 'The Bower' opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys appeared, dressed, as Miss Limpenny could see, 
 for a walk. 
 
Sa TROY TOWN. 
 
 '' Now, I wonder/' reflected tliat kind soul, " which 
 direction they will take. Personally, of course, I 
 should prefer them to pass this window ; but I hope 
 I can subdue private inclination to public spirit, 
 and for Troy's sake I hope they will visit the Castle 
 first. The salubrity of the air, as well as the ex- 
 pansiveness of the view, would be certain to impress 
 them favourably. Dear, dear ! I wish I could advise 
 them. Should they take the direction of the town, 
 I know by experience they will be apt to meet with 
 an efiluvium of decaying fish, and I should so like their 
 stay among us to be begun under pleasant auspices.'' 
 
 But almost before Miss Limpenny had concluded 
 these reflections, the strangers had determined on the 
 direction. They turned neither towards the Town nor 
 up the hill towards the Castle and the harbour's mouth ; 
 but down the little road which led to Bower Slip and the 
 Penpoodle Ferryboat. 
 
 ^' Gracious me ! " exclaimed Miss Limpenny ; " they 
 are going to take a boat." 
 
 The words were scarcely out of her mouth, when 
 she was seized with a sudden idea — an idea so 
 alluring, yet so bold withal, that the blood flew from 
 her cheeks. She made a step forward, paused, took 
 another step, and returned to the window. The 
 strangers had turned down the road and were out 
 of sight. 
 
 For a full minute she stood there, tapping her foot. 
 
 *^ I wilV she said, with sudden determination. " 1 
 
MISS LIMPENNY SAYS "l WILL.'* 53 
 
 will ! " On Miss Limpenny's maiden lip the words 
 were as solemn as though she spoke them at the altar, 
 " I will, — and — I don't care what happens ! '^ 
 
 Awful words ! Awful in themselves^ more awful 
 from such lips, but surely most awful as making the 
 second step in the moral decadence of Troy ! 
 
 Yet I would not have my readers too excited. They 
 were words to shudder at, indeed ; but the immediate 
 consequences were not bloody — they were only to a 
 limited degree tragic. It must be remembered that the 
 magnificence of all actions is relative to the performer, 
 nor would I seek to exalt Miss Limpenny to the level of 
 a Semiramis or a Dido ; only, when I say that she bore 
 a great soul in a little body, I say no more than that she 
 was a Trojan. 
 
 In short, Miss Limpenny did not, as the reader may 
 have expected, take a boat and pursue after the 
 strangers. What she did was simply to descend swiftly 
 to the front hall, take down from its stand an antique, 
 brass-bound telescope of enormous proportions, and with 
 it make her way swiftly to the back door. 
 
 The back gardens of Alma Villas ran parallel to each 
 other, and were terminated by a high wall, with a quay- 
 door apiece, a tall ladder leading from the door straight 
 down to the water. At the end of the garden, and 
 built against this wall, in each case a stone terrace with 
 a flight of steps allowed anyone who chose to climb, and 
 even perform a limited promenade while enjoying a 
 full view of the harbour beyond. 
 
54 TROY TOWN. 
 
 It was to this flight of steps that Miss Limpenny, 
 with a prayer on her lips and the telescope under her 
 arm, made her way. 
 
 Both terrace and steps were ricketty to a degree. 
 To help you to estimate her conduct at its full temerity 
 I may mention that Miss Limpenny had never attempted 
 the climb before in her life. But whatever qualms she 
 may have felt, they did not appear in her behaviour. 
 Gingerly, but without hesitation, and clutching the 
 telescope, which impeded her as an ice-axe the rock- 
 climber, she essayed all the perils of this maiden ascent. 
 
 Five minutes' stiff climbing, as they say in the 
 Alphie Journal J brought her to a point where she could 
 take breath and look about her. Despite her terror, the 
 excitement and the light breeze now blowing over the 
 arete of garden wall, had brought a flush to her cheek. 
 But scarcely had she resumed and set her foot upon the 
 summit, when the flush suddenly faded, and left her 
 blanched as snow. 
 
 For there, not a foot to her right, and above the 
 crest of the partition wall, rose another telescope^ 
 the exact counterpart of her own ! 
 
 The Spectre on the Brocken was nothing to this. 
 
 She clutched at the rotten stones and panted for 
 breath. Slowly, very slowly, the rival telescope was 
 tilted up against the harbour- wall ; very slowly it rose 
 in air. Then came a pair of hands — of blue cuffs, 
 — and then — the crimson face of Admiral Buzza soared 
 iijto view., like the child's head in Macbeth. 
 
A MAIDEN ASCENT. 65 
 
 He did not see her yet, being absorbed in adjusting 
 the telescope. Terror-smitten, too fearful to advance or 
 retreat, clinging to the telescope with one hand as 
 a drowning mariner might grasp a spar, and clutch- 
 ing with the other at the crumbling wall. Miss 
 Limpenny stood arrested, wildly staring, scarce ventur- 
 ing to breathe. 
 
 The Admiral's telescope was tilted into position, and 
 the Admiral half-turned his head before applying his 
 eye to the hole. 
 
 She could not help it. In spite of all her efforts to 
 repress it, a little gasping squeal of affright broke 
 from her. The Admiral, with a start, withdrew 
 his eye quickly from the glass, and looked over the 
 wall. 
 
 " Damnation I ^' (This was the Admiral, by the 
 way.) 
 
 What happened exactly at this moment will never 
 be known. Whether a stone underfoot gave way, 
 or whether the Admirals voice brought down a serac 
 of rotten wall, is not clear. There was a rumbling 
 sound, an oath or two — and then both telescope and 
 Admiral disappeared, with a crash, from view. 
 
 Miss Limpenny screamed, dropped her telescope, 
 which went ratthng down the steps, cowered desper- 
 ately against the wall, shut her eyes, screamed again, 
 trod on a tilting slab, hung for a moment, toppled, 
 clutched wildly at space, and shot, with a rush and 
 shower of stones, straight to the very bottom. 
 
56 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Miss Lavinia Limpenny, who, startled by the 
 screams, had rushed to the window and witnessed 
 the last stages of the catastrophe,, was out in a minute. 
 Tenderly raising her sobbing sister, she assisted 
 her back to the house, and attended to the bruises 
 with a combination of arnica, vinegar, and brown 
 paper. On the other side of the wall the Admiral 
 lay for some time and bellowed for help, until his 
 frightened family bore him in, and attempted to put 
 him to bed. 
 
 But mark the heroism of the tnily great. In 
 spite of his late treatment at the hands of his fel- 
 low-citizens — treatment which still rankled — here was 
 no Coriolanus to depart in a huff to Antium. The 
 Admiral had a duty to perform, a service due to this 
 ungrateful Town, and on the subject of going to bed he 
 was adamant. 
 
 " Cease, Emily. Your tears, your protestations 
 are in vain. Stop, I tell you I Get me my uni- 
 form.^' 
 
 Surely some desperate, some decisive step was 
 contemplated when the Admiral ordered out that gold- 
 laced coat and cocked hat that once had shone in the 
 Blue Squadron of Her Majesty's Navy. What could 
 this stern magnificence portend ? 
 
 The Admiral had made up his mind. He was going 
 to interview Mrs. Snell, the charwoman. 
 
 It was a pretty fancy, and one not without parallel 
 in the history of famous men, that inspired him at 
 
GALLANT CONDUCfT OF THE ADMIRAL. 57 
 
 this crisis to assume his bravest attire. There is to 
 my mind a flavour in the conceit — a bravado lifting 
 the action above mere intrepidity into actual greatness. 
 Nor in this little Iliad are there many figures that I 
 regard with more affection than that of Admiral 
 Buzza at his garden gate waiting for Mrs. Snell. 
 
 When at length she issued from 'The Bower' 
 and came down the road, the effect of the gold lace 
 was rather striking. She dropped her bundle and her 
 lower jaw together. 
 
 " Lawks, sir ! how you did frighten me, to be sure ! 
 I thought it was the devil ! " 
 
 This was hardly what the Admiral had expected. 
 He beckoned with his forefinger mysteriously. Mrs. 
 Snell advanced as though not quite sure that her first 
 fright was unfounded. 
 
 '^ Mrs. Snell/^ inquired the Admiral, in a whisper, 
 " what are they like ? ''■' He pointed melodramatically 
 towards ' The Bower ' as he asked the question. 
 
 Again the unexpected happened. Mrs. Snell burst 
 into loud and hysterical sobbing. 
 
 '^ Dont^ee, sir ! dont'ee ! I can't abear it. Not a 
 thing can you do to please em, an' the Honorubble 
 Frederic a-dammin' about the 'ouse fit to make your 
 flesh creep. An' that though he might 'ave ate his 
 dinner off the floor, gold studs an' all, as I told 'un 
 at last. For 'twasn't in flesh and blood, sir — not to 
 be ordered this way an' that by a whipper-snapper 
 whose gran'mother I might 'a been, though he 'as got 
 
58 TKOY TOWN. 
 
 three rows o' sliiny buttons on ^is stumraick, which is 
 no cause for a proud carriage toward them as 'asn't, 
 nor callin^ ''em slowcoaches and names which I won^t 
 soil my tongue wi' — an' so I said. Aw dear ! aw dear ! ^* 
 And here Mrs. SnelFs passion again found vent in 
 violent sobs and cries. 
 
 "Hush! Confound it I Hush! I tell you. You'll 
 have the whole town out.''' 
 
 '^ I beg your pardon, sir — boo-hoo ! — but it isn't 
 in natur', sich wickednes^s in 'igh places, an' pore Maria 
 sick at 'ome wi' the colic an' a leak in the roof you 
 might put your cocked 'at through, an' very fine it 
 looks, sir, beggin' your parding agen, which is all 
 vexashun o' sperrit on a shillin' a day an' your 
 vittles, let alone bein' swore at 'till you dunno 
 whether you be 'pon your 'ed or your 'eels." 
 
 With this Mrs. Snell picked up her bundle and 
 marched off down the road. She was quite hopeless, 
 the Admiral determined, as he watched her retreating 
 figure and heard her sobs borne back to him on the 
 evening air. Well, well ! it had been another reverse 
 — but not a defeat. His face cleared again as he turned 
 to re-enter the house. 
 
 " Let me see : to-morrow is Sunday. They will 
 probably be at church. In the afternoon, though it 
 involve the loss of my usual nap, I will consider. On 
 Monday I will act." 
 
 Even the strangers themselves, as they walked up 
 the aisle of St. Symphorian's Church, Troy, on the 
 
69 
 
 following morning, could not but perceive something of 
 importance to be in the wind. That the church should 
 be full was not unusual, for in those days Sunday 
 Observance was the rule among Trojans. But on this 
 particular day the Wesleyan and Bible Christian chapels 
 must have been sadly depleted, so great was the crush ; 
 arid, besides, there was the unwonted magnificence of 
 dress, the stir caused by the simultaneous turning of 
 some hundred bonnets as the Goodwyn-Sandys entered, 
 the audible whispering as they took their seats, the 
 nervousness of the Vicar, who twice dropped his spec- 
 tacles over the reading-desk and once over the pulpit. 
 On this last occasion one of the glasses was broken, 
 and the sermon in consequence became, towards the 
 end, a trifle involved. All this made the service rather 
 hysterical. 
 
 Tell me, my Muse, thou who sittest at the tea-table 
 and rejoicest in the rattling of cups : Who were they 
 that attended St. Symphorian's Church on this Sunday 
 morning ? First, there were the Misses Limpenny, in 
 black tabbinet dresses and lace shawls ; a cameo brooch 
 adorned the throat of each, and from her waist a reti- 
 cule depended. These first directed the gold-bound 
 optic glass at the strangers^ pew. Behind them sat the 
 Doctor and his wife, the one conspicuous for his black 
 stock, the other for a shawl of Paisley workmanship. 
 Next, the Harbour-master, tall Mr. Stripp, with his 
 daughters Tryphena and Tryphosa; nor would Mrs. 
 Stripp have been absent had she not been buried some 
 
60 TROY TOWN. 
 
 years before. Yellow -haired were both the daughters, 
 and few knew better the prevailing fashion in dress ; 
 these whispered concerning Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys^ 
 costume. By them sat Mr. Moggridge, the poet, good 
 at the responses, and Sam Buzza, his friend, whom few 
 Trojans excelled in casting glances at the female con- 
 gregation. Then, most gorgeous and bravest of all, the 
 Admiral : he wore again his gold-laced coat, but the 
 cocked-hat rested underneath the seat, and none could 
 fathom the import of his gaze. By him sat his three 
 daughters, a-row, in straight-backed dresses of like cut 
 and colour, and peeped over their prayer-books; and 
 Mrs. Buzza, timorous, in bright green satin. But of 
 the throng of Trojan men and women, not though I 
 had a hundred mouths, &c. &c. 
 
 ^' Her dress must have cost nine shillings a yard if 
 it cost a penny ,^' said Miss Limpenny when they were 
 outside in the open air. She looked at the ground as 
 she said so, for she could forget neither the Nightcap 
 nor the Telescope. 
 
 The Admiral was silent. 
 
 ^' She is very lovely ,'' remarked Mrs. Buzza, *' and 
 did you remark how the Vicar paused in the Litany 
 when he came to ' all the Nobility ' ? '' 
 
 " I was particularly careful to pray for Ijord Sink- 
 port/' said Calypso, innocently. 
 
 Still the Admiral was silent. That afternoon Mrs. 
 Buzza, stealing softly into the back parlom- lest she 
 should disturb her lord, was amazed, in place of the 
 
THJfi ADMIRAL MAKES UP HIS MIND. 61 
 
 usual recumbent form with a bandanna over its face, to 
 find him sitting up, wide awake, and staring gloomily. 
 
 ^' My dear " she began in her confusion. 
 
 The Admiral turned a Gorgon stare upon her, but 
 made no answer. Under its petrifying influence she 
 b?*cked out without another word, to communicate with 
 the girls upon the portent. 
 
 This mood of the Admirals lasted all day. Next 
 morning, at breakfast, he looked up from his bacon, 
 and observed, with the air of a man whose mind is 
 made up — 
 
 '^ Emily, see that the girls have on their best 
 gowns by eleven o^clock sharp. I am going to pay a 
 call.^^ 
 
 Consternation sat on every face. Sam Buzza paused 
 in the act of breaking an eg^. ^ 
 
 *' At ' The Bower ' ? '^ he asked. 
 
 "At 'The Bower'.'' 
 
 Mrs. Buzza clasped her hands nervously. The girls 
 turned pale. 
 
 " Oh, very well," said Sam, tapping his Qgg. " I 
 shouldn't wonder if I turned up while you were there." 
 
 He was a light-haired, ungainly youth, of about 
 twenty, with a reputation for singing a comic song. 
 It was understood that the Admiral designed him for 
 College and Holy Orders, but meanwhile time was 
 passing, and Sam sat " with idle hands at home," or, 
 more frequently, in the bar of the '*' Man-o'-War." 
 
 '' You 1 " exclaimed his father. 
 
62 TROY TOWN. 
 
 *^Well, I don't see what there is in that to be 
 surprised about/^ replied the youth, with an aggrieved 
 air. '^I met the Honourable Frederic smoking 
 a cigar out on the Rope-walk last night. His cigars 
 are very good ; and he asked me to drop in soon and try 
 another. He isn't a bit stuck-up.'' 
 
 The Admiral's feelings were divided between annoy- 
 ance at the easy success of his son, and elation at finding 
 the stranger so unexpectedly affable. He rose. 
 
 '^ Girls, remember to be punctual. I will show 
 this town of Troy that I am not the man to be laughed 
 at." 
 
v.- 
 
 CHAPTER Vll. 
 
 OP A LADY THAT HAD A MUSICAL VOICE^ BUT USED IT 
 TO DECEIVE. 
 
 Many of the advantages that wait upon the readers of 
 this history are, I should hope, by this time obvious. 
 Among them must be reckoned the privilege of taking 
 precedence of Admiral Buzza — of paying a visit to 
 ^The Bower ■* not only several minutes in advance of 
 that great man, but moreover on terms of the utmost 
 intimacy. 
 
 Shortly before eleven on Monday morning the 
 Honourable Frederic Augustus Hythe Goodwyn-Sandys 
 was shaving contemplatively. He was a tall, thin 
 man, with light, closely cropped hair, a drooping mous- 
 tache that hid his mouth, and a nose of the order 
 aquiline, and species '^ chiselled.''-' For the present the 
 lower half of his face was obscured with lather. His 
 dress — I put it thus in case Miss Limpenny should read 
 these lines — was that usually worn by gentlemen under 
 similar circumstances. 
 
 Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys was just taking his first 
 stroke with the razor, when the creaking of the garden 
 gate caused him to glance out of window. The 
 
64 TROT TOWN. 
 
 effect of this was to make him cut his cheek ; where- 
 upon he both bled and swore simultaneously and pro- 
 fusely. 
 
 On the gravel walk stood Admiral Buzza with his 
 three daughters. 
 
 Again the great man was in full dress. Behind him 
 in Indian file advanced Sophia, Jane, Calypso, each in a 
 straight fi'ock of vivid yellow surmounted by a straw hat 
 of such enormous brim as to lend them a fearful like- 
 ness to three gigantic fungi. As far as the hats allowed 
 one to see from above, each wore sandal-shoes, and 
 carried a small green parasol, neatly folded. 
 
 At the sight of this regiment of visitors, Mr. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys paused with razor in air and blood 
 trickling down his chin. The Admiral marched reso- 
 lutely up the path and stmck three distinct knocks 
 upon the door. 
 
 It was opened by the youth in buttons. 
 
 The Admiral produced a sheaf of visiting cards and 
 handed them to the page, as if inviting him to select 
 one, note it carefully, and restore it to the pack. 
 
 " Is the Honourable Frederic Goodwyn-Sandys or 
 the Honourable Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys at home ? " 
 
 Words cannot do justice to the Admiral's tone. 
 
 The regiment was marched into the drawing-room, 
 where Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys rose to receive them. 
 
 She was undeniably beautiful ; not young, but rather 
 in that St. Martin's Summer when a woman learns for 
 the first time the value of her charms. Her hair was 
 
GRACIOSA. 65 
 
 of a glossy black, her lips red and full, her figure a^nd 
 grey morning gown two miracles. But on her eyes and 
 voice you shall hear Mr. Moggridge, who subsequently 
 wasted a deal of Her Majesty^s time and his own paper 
 upon this subject. From a note-book of his, the early 
 pages of which are constant to a certain Sophia, I select 
 the following — 
 
 " TO GRACIOSA, WALKING AND TALKING." 
 
 Whenas abroad, to greet the mom, 
 
 I mark my Graciosa walk. 
 In homage bends the whisp'ring corn ; 
 
 Yet, to confess 
 
 Its awkwardness, 
 Must hang its head upon the stalk. 
 
 And when she talks, her lips do heal 
 
 The wound her lightest glances give. 
 In pity then, be harsh and deal 
 
 Such wounds, that I 
 
 May hourly die 
 And, by a word revived, live ! 
 
 All this was very shocking of Mr. Moggridge ; for 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys was not hu Graciosa at all. But 
 it was what we were fated to come to, in Troy. And 
 Graciosa^s voice and smile were certainly inspiring. 
 
 Let us return to ' The Bower."* The Admiral hav- 
 ing presented his daughters, and arranged them in line 
 again, cleared his throat and began — 
 
 " Though aware that, as judged by the standard of 
 the best society, this visit may be condemned as 
 premature, I have thought right to stifle such 
 
66 TROY TOWN. 
 
 apprehensions in my anxiety to assure you of a welcome 
 in Troy — I may say, an open-armed welcome.'^ 
 
 Here the Admiral actually spread his arms abroad. 
 His hostess retreated a step. 
 
 '^ My daughters, — Cal3q)so, I perceive an errant curl 
 — my daughters, madam, will bear me out when I say 
 that only excess of feeling prevents their mother from 
 joining in this — may I call it so ? — this ovation.'* 
 
 (In point of fact, Mrs. Buzza had been judged too 
 red in the eyes to accompany the Admiral.) 
 
 '' Ever since I beheld you and your husband — whom 
 I do not see" (here the Admiral stared ferociously under 
 a table), ^^but who, I trust, is in health — for the first 
 time in church yesterday'' — (Oh, Admiral Buzza!)— 
 ^' I have been forcibly reminded of an expression in one 
 
 of our British poets, which runs Sophia, how tlie 
 
 devil does it run ? ** 
 
 Neither of the Misses Buzza had the faintest idea. 
 Their father's efforts to remember it were interrupted 
 by Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, who begged them, with 3 
 charming smile, to be seated. 
 
 "My husband," she said, ''will be down in a 
 minute or two. It is really most kind of you to call ; 
 for, as strangers, we are nakirally anxious to hear about 
 the place and its people.'' 
 
 Her voice, which was low and musical, came with 
 the prettiest trip upon the tongue. There was just the 
 faintest shade of brogue in it — for instance, she said 
 " me husband " — but I cannot attempt to reproduce it. 
 
COURTEOUS BEHAVIOUR OP THE ADMIRAL. 67 
 
 Upon this hinted desire for information, the Admiral 
 bestowed his eocked-hat under the chair, and bes-an — 
 
 '^ Our small town, ma'am, may be viewed in many 
 aspects — as an emporium of commerce, a holiday centre, 
 or a health resort. In our trade you would naturally, 
 with your tastes, find little interest. It is rather our 
 scenic advantages, our romantic fortresses, our river 
 (pronounced by many to equal the Rhine), our mild 
 atmosphere — " 
 
 '^On the contrary, I take the greatest interest in 
 your trade. '^ 
 
 The Admiral lifted his brows and smiled, as one who 
 would imply ^' You are kind enough to say so, but really, 
 with your high connections, that can hardly be seriously 
 believed.''^ What he said was — 
 
 '' It is indeed good of you to interest yourself in our 
 simple tastes. We are (I confess it) to some degree — 
 ahem ! — mercantile, and as citizens of Troy esteem it our 
 duty to acquaint ourselves (theoretically) with the pro- 
 ducts of other lands. To this end I have had all my 
 daughters carefully grounded in the ' Child's Guide to 
 Knowledge.' Jane, my dear, what is Gamboge ? " 
 
 ''A vegetable, gummy juice, of a most beautiful 
 yellow colour, chiefly brought from Gambodia in the 
 East Indies," repeated Jane with a glance at her gown. 
 '' You see, ma'am," explained her father with a wave 
 of the hand, " it is a form of instruction in which the 
 rawness of the material is to some extent veiled by a 
 clothing of picturesque accessories. This will be even 
 
68 TROY TOWN. 
 
 more noticeable in the case of Soy. Calypso, inform 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys of the humorous illusion under 
 which our seamen labour with regard to Soy.'^ 
 
 But at this point the door opened, and Mr. Samuel 
 Buzza entered, with Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys himself. 
 
 The introductions were gone through ; the Admiral 
 let off another speech of welcome, and plunged with the 
 Honourable Frederic into a long discussion of Troy, its 
 scenery and neighbourhood ; the three girls sat bolt up- 
 right, each on the edge of her chair ; and their brother 
 took his hostess' extended hand with a bashful grin. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Buzza, I am interested in you already — 
 my husband has been telling me how he met you.'' 
 
 '' Proud to hear it,'' muttered Sam. 
 
 ^' Oh, yes. I hope we shall be great friends. It is 
 so kind of you all to call." 
 
 Sam asked her not to mention it; and looked at 
 his father, who&3 face was by this time purple with 
 conversation. 
 
 '^ I say, ain't the old boy enjoying himself, though ! " 
 he remarked in a sudden burst of confidence. '' What 
 do you think of him ? " 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys smiled sweetly, and replied 
 that the Admiral was ^^ so thorough." 
 
 "Thorough old duffer, you mean. Look at Mm. 
 What with his gold spangles and his talking to Mr. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys, he's as proud as a cock on a wall." 
 
 His hostess laughed. '^ You are very frank," she 
 
AND Of SAMUEL BUZZA. 69 
 
 *' That's me all over/' replied Sam, evidently pleased. 
 " You see, I ainH polite — not a ladies' man in any 
 way--" 
 
 '* There I am sure you do yourself injustice/' 
 
 *' No, 'pon my word ! I never had any practice." 
 
 '^ What, not among all the charming girls I saw in 
 church yesterday? Oh, Mr. Buzza, you mustn't tell 
 me tkaL^' A look from the dark eyes accompanied this 
 sentence. 
 
 Now, very few young men of Sam's stamp greatly 
 mind being considered gay Lotharios. So that when he 
 repeated that " Ton his word he wasn^t,^' he also turned 
 his neck about in his collar for a second or so, smiled 
 meaningly, and altogether looked rather pleased than not. 
 
 " Pm afraid you are a very sad character, Mr. 
 Buzza." 
 
 " No, really now.^' 
 
 " And are deceiving me horribly." 
 
 " No, really; wouldn't think of it." 
 
 " Sam ! " broke in the Admiral's voice in tones of 
 thunder. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 '* How does Mr. Moggridge describe the ^ Man-o'- 
 War' Hotel?" 
 
 " Says the beer's falling off, sir. It did, once upon 
 a time, taste of the barrel, but now he'll be hanged if it 
 tastes of anything at all. It ought " 
 
 " Don't be a fool, sir ! I mean in that poem of his 
 from ' Ivy Leaves : or, Tendrils from Troy.' " 
 
70 TROY TOWN. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir, I'm sure. Let me see " 
 
 Before he could recall it, Sophia finished the quota- 
 tion, timidly. '^ I think, papa, I can remember it : — 
 
 * And thou, 
 Quaint hostel ! 'neath whose mould'ring gable ends 
 In amber draught I slake my noonday thirst. , , .* 
 
 Something like that, I think, papa." 
 
 '^ Ah, to be sure : ^ mould'ring gable ends,* a most 
 
 accurate description. It used to belong to " and 
 
 the Admiral plunged again into a flood of conversation. 
 
 " You must bring this Mr. Moggridge and introduce 
 him," said Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandj^s to Sam. ^^He is a 
 Collector of Customs, is he not? Do you think he 
 would recite any of his verses to me ? " 
 
 ^' By the hour. But I shouldn't advise you to ask 
 him. It's all about my sister.'' 
 
 '^ Which ? " 
 
 ''The eldest there — Sophy's her name — and don't 
 judge from appearances ; the family diet is not hard- 
 ware." 
 
 '' Hush, sir 1 you must not be rude. That reminds 
 me that I ought to go and speak to them." 
 
 '' You won't get anything out of them. If you 
 want a subject, though, I'll give you the straight tip — 
 lambs. I've heard them talk about lambs by the hour. 
 Say they are nice and soft and woolly : that'll draw 
 them out." 
 
 " You are a great quiz, I perceive." 
 
 " No, really, now, Mrs. Goodwyn- Sandys." 
 
SAM IS FASCINATED. 71 
 
 " But, really yes, Mr. Buzza. I shall have to cure 
 you, I see, before I can trust my husband in your 
 company." 
 
 She rose and left him to his flutter of pleased excite- 
 ment. Oh, Sam ! Sam ! To fall from innocence was 
 bad enough, but to fall thus easily ! 
 
 In a few moments and with charming tact, Mrs. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys had drawn the Misses Buzza into a 
 lively conversation ; had told Sophy of some new songs; 
 and had even promised them all some hints on the very 
 latest gowns, before Sam Buzza, weary of silence, called 
 across the room — 
 
 " I say, dad, what do you think is the news about 
 the seedy-looking fellow you treated by mistake to all 
 that speechifying." 
 
 The Admiral looked daggers, but Sam was imper- 
 turbable. 
 
 " Ho, ho ! I say, Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys, the governor 
 took him for you, and welcomed him to Troy in his 
 best style — flower in his buttonhole and all — 'twas as 
 good as a play. Well, the fellow has taken Kit's 
 House.'' 
 
 " Kit's House ! '* 
 
 " Yes, and lives there all alone, with Caleb Trotter 
 for servant. I'd advise you to call, now that you've got 
 your Sunday best on. I'm sure he'd like to thank you 
 for that speech you made him." 
 
 " Be quiet, sir ! " 
 
 " Oh, very well ; only I thought I'd mention it. I'm 
 
72 TROY TOWN. 
 
 afraid I must be ^oing, Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys." Sam 
 held out his hand. 
 
 "Must you? Good-bye, then/^ she said, "but 
 remember, you have to come and be taught innocence." 
 
 " Oh, ril remember, never fear,'^ answered Sam, and 
 departed. 
 
 The Admiral also rose. 
 
 " I trust,'' he said, " that this may be the beginning 
 of a pleasant intimacy. My wife will be most happy to 
 give you any information concerning our little town that 
 I may have omitted. By the way, how is Lord Sinkport? 
 I really forgot to ask. Quite well ? I am so glad. I 
 
 was afraid the gout Come, Sophy, my dear, we 
 
 have trespassed long enough. Good-morning ! " 
 
 He was gone. Scarcely, however, could his host 
 and hostess exchange glances before he reappeared. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, that quotation — 1 
 have just remembered it. It was, 'Welcome, little 
 strangers ,' ' The original, I believe, has the singular 
 — 'little stranger' — but the slight change makes it 
 more appropriate. 'Welcome, little strangers I' Good- 
 morning I " 
 
 O Troy, Troj 1 Scarcely had the garden gate 
 creaked again, when ISIr. and Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys 
 looked at each other for a moment, then sank into 
 arm-chairs, and broke into peals of the most unaffected 
 laughter. 
 
 "Nellie, hand me a cigar. This beats cock- 
 fighting." 
 
THE STRANGERS TALK MYSTERIOUSLY. 73 
 
 *' Whistj me dear ! " answered the lady, relapsing 
 into honest brogue, ^' but Brady is the bhoy to know 
 the ropes /■* 
 
 " I believe you, Nellie/' 
 
 Outside the garden gate the Admiral had fallen 
 into a brown study. 
 
 '^ I perceive,^' he said, at length, very thoughtfully, 
 '' that wine and biscuits have gone out of fashion, as 
 concomitants of a morning call. In some ways I regret 
 it ; but they are evidently people of extreme refinement. 
 Sophy, how badly your gown sits.'' 
 
 '* Why, it was only yesterday, papa, that you 
 praised it so ! " 
 
 '' Did I ? H'm ! Well, well, now for the boat." 
 
 " The boat, papa ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Sophy ; we are going to call at Kit's 
 House." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HOW A CREW, THAT WOULD SAIL ON A WASHING-DAY, 
 WAS SHIPWRECKED : WITH AN ADVERTISEMENT 
 AGAINST WOMEN. 
 
 It was a bright April morning, and the AdmiraPs boat, 
 as it swept proudly past the little town, cast a wealth 
 of bright reflection on the water. Inhabitants of Troy, 
 sitting at their windows, and overlooking the harbour, 
 caught sight of the yellow dresses, the blue coat with 
 its gold lace, and the red face beneath the cocked-hat, 
 and whispered to each other that something was in the 
 wind. 
 
 Jane and Calypso rowed — for the Trojan maidens in 
 those days were not above pulling an oar, and did not 
 mind blisters — while Sophia sat in the bows, her mush- 
 room hat ^' a world too wide " for the little green 
 parasol hoisted above it. The Admiral himself held the 
 tiller ropes, and occasionally gave a word of command. 
 It was a gracious spectacle. 
 
 But as the boat drew clear of the jetties with their 
 press of vessels, and Kit^s Cottage hove in sight, the 
 Admiral's eyes, which were fixed ahead, grew suddenly 
 very large and round. 
 
WASHING-DAY AT KIT's HOUSE. 75 
 
 " This is very extraordinary ! " he muttered, " very 
 extraordinary indeed ! '^ 
 
 " What is it, papa ? '^ and the three Misses Biizza 
 simultaneously turned their mushroom hats to look. 
 
 '' I cannot tell, Sophia ; but to me it appears as if 
 those people were — not to put too fine a point upon it— 
 washing.''' 
 
 It was quite true. On the little beach, Mr. Fogo, 
 with his sleeves turned up and a large apron pinned 
 around him, was standing before a huge tub, in- 
 dustriously washing. The tub rested on a couple of 
 stools. A little to the left, Caleb Trotter, with his 
 back turned to the river, was wringing the articles of 
 male costume which his master handed him, and dis- 
 posing them about the shingle to dry. 
 
 The Admiral had chosen a washing-day for his first 
 call at Kit-'s House. 
 
 The approach of the boat was at first unperceived ; 
 for Caleb, as I said, had his back turned to it, and Mr. 
 Togo's spectacles were bent over his employment. 
 
 '' Really ,'' murmured the Admiral, as his eye 
 
 travelled over the beach, ^' anything more indelicate 
 
 Why, Miss Limpenny might be rowing this way for 
 anything they know. Hi, sir ! '* 
 
 Still grasping the tiller-lines, the Admiral stood up 
 on the stern-seat and shouted. 
 
 At the sound Mr. Togo raised his spectacles and 
 blandly stared through them at the strangers. Caleb 
 startedj turned suddenly round, and came rushing do^vn 
 
76 TROY TOWl?. 
 
 the beach, his right hand frantically waving them back, 
 
 his left grasping a pair of (Oh ! Miss Lirn- 
 
 penny !) 
 
 *^ Hi ! you must go back. Go away, I tell 'ee ! " he 
 gesticulated. 
 
 "What on " 
 
 " Go away ; no females allowed here. Off with ^ee 
 this moment ! '' 
 
 " Put down those s, sir/' yelled the Admiral. 
 
 '' Sarve 'ee right : no business to come : 'tes 
 Bachelor's Hall, this, an' us don't want no womankind 
 trapesin' here : so keep your distance. Go 'long ! " 
 And Caleb began to wave again. 
 
 " Sir," cried the Admiral, appealing to Mr. Togo, 
 " what is the meaning of this extraordinary reception ? " 
 
 '^ Eh ? What ? " said that gentleman, who ap- 
 parently had fallen into a fit of deep abstraction. " I 
 beg your pardon. I did not quite catch " 
 
 *^What is the meaning of all this, sir?" The 
 Admiral was scai'let with passion. 
 
 " Oh, it's quite right, I believe — quite right. Caleb 
 will tell you." As he gave this astonishing answer in 
 a far-away tone, Mr. Togo's spectacles rested on his 
 visitor for a moment with a smile of deepest bene- 
 volence. Then, with a sigh, he resumed his washing. 
 
 The Admiral positively danced with rage. 
 
 '* There, what did I tell 'ee?" exclaimed Caleb 
 triumphantly. " That's your answer, and now you can 
 go 'long home. OfE with 'ee 1 " 
 
'• QUANTUM MUTATUS AB ILLO/* 77 
 
 The Admiral's reply would probably have contained 
 some strong words. It was arrested by a catastrophe. 
 
 During this altercation the tide had been rising, 
 and carried the boat gently up towards the little beach. 
 As the Admiral opened his mouth to retort, the boat's 
 nose jarred upon a sunken heap of pebbles. The shock 
 was slight, but enough to upset his equilibrium. With- 
 out any warning, the Admirals heels shot upwards, 
 and the great man himself, with a wild clutch at 
 vacancy, soused backwards — cocked hat and all — into 
 the water. 
 
 The three Misses Buzza with one accord clasped 
 their hands and uttered dismal shrieks ; the three mush- 
 room hats shook with terror. Mr. Togo looked up from 
 his washing. 
 
 " Papa ! oh, save him — save our dear Papa ! '* 
 
 There was no danger. Presently a crimson face 
 rose over the boat's stern, blowing like a grampus. A 
 pair of dripping epaulets followed; and then the 
 Admiral stood up, knee-deep in water, and swore and 
 spat alternately. 
 
 How different from that glittering hero, at sight of 
 whom, not an hour before, the Trojan dames at their 
 lattices had stopped their needlework to whisper I 
 Down his nose and chin ran a pitiable flood ; his scanty 
 locks, before so wiry and obstinate, lay close against his 
 ears ; his gorgeous uniform, tarnished with slime, hung 
 in folds, and from each fold poured a separate cascade ; 
 the whole man had became suddenly shrunken. 
 
78 TROY TOWN. 
 
 SpeecHess witli rage, the little man clambered over 
 the stern and shook his fist at the wondering spectacles 
 of Mr. Togo. 
 
 " You shall repent this, sir ! You shall — Jane, push 
 the boat off at once ! " 
 
 But even the dignity of a fine exit was denied the 
 Admiral. The boat was by this time firmly aground, 
 and he was forced to stand, forming large pools upon 
 the stern-board, while the grinning Caleb pushed her 
 off. And still Mr. Togo looked mildly on, with his 
 hands in the wash-tub. 
 
 '' Do you hear me, sir ? You shall repent this ! '* 
 raved the Admiral. 
 
 ^^Now, don^t ^ee go upsettin^ yourself again, ^cos 
 wance es enough. An' 't 'ain't no good to be vexed 
 wi' Maaster, 'cos he don't mind 'ee. 'Tes like 
 Smoothey's weddin' — all o' one side. Next time, I 
 hopes you'll listen when you'm spoken to." 
 
 And with a chuckle, Caleb sent the boat spinning 
 into deep water. Scarce daring to look at their father, 
 the Misses Buzza plunged their oars into the brine, and 
 the Admiral, still shaking his fist, was borne slowly 
 out of sight. At last even his language failed upon the 
 breeze. 
 
 Caleb quietly returned to his work. 
 
 "Thicky Adm'ral,'' he observed, contemplatively, 
 after a silence of a minute or so, '^ puts me in mind o' 
 Humphrey Hambly's ducks, as is said to look larger 
 tkan they be." 
 
MR. FOGO IS SHAKEJi* 79 
 
 He paused in the act of wring^ing' a shirt, to look at 
 Mr. Togo. 
 
 The next instant the shirt was lying on the shingle, 
 and Caleb had sprung upon his master, taken him by 
 the shoulders, and was shaking him with might and 
 main. 
 
 " Come, wake up ! Do *ee hear ? What be glazin' 
 at?" 
 
 " Eh ? Dear me ! " stammered Mr. Fogo, as well as 
 he might for the shaking. '' What's all this ? '' 
 
 "Axin' your pardon, sir," explained Caleb, con- 
 tinuing the treatment, " but ''tes all for your good, like 
 ringin' a pig. You ''m a-woolgatherin' ; wake up I '' 
 
 Mr. Fogo came to himself, and sat down upon a 
 log of timber to re-arrange his thoughts and his spec- 
 tacles. Caleb stood over him and sternly watched his 
 recovery. 
 
 " You are quite right, Caleb : my thoughts were 
 wandering. Your treatment is a trifle rough, but honest. 
 Are those extraordinary people gone ? *' 
 
 '^ Iss, sir ; here they were, but gone— like Jemmy 
 Rule's larks.'' 
 
 " I beg your pardon ? " 
 
 <( Figger o' speech, sir. They be gone right enough 
 — Adm'ral Buzza in full fig, and a row o* darters in 
 jalHshy buff. 1 sent 'em 'bout their bus'ness. Look 
 'ee here, sir : ef you'll promise to sit quiet and keep your 
 wits at home, I'll run down to town for a happord o' 
 tar/' 
 
80 TUOY TOWN. 
 
 "Tar, Caleb ?^' 
 
 " IsSj sir, tar ! ^* and with this Caleb turned on his 
 heel and strode away across the shingle. In a moment 
 or two he had untied his boat from the little quay, and 
 was pulling down towards Troy Town. 
 
 When he returned, it was with a huge board, a 
 pot of tar, and a brush. He looked anxiously about 
 the beach, but Mr. Fogo was nowhere to be seen. 
 ^'Drownded hissel','' was Caleb's first thought, but 
 his ear caught the sound of hammering up at the house. 
 He walked indoors to see that all was right. 
 
 '' How be f eelin' ? '' he asked, putting his head in 
 at the dining-room door. 
 
 Mr. Togo laid down the mallet with which he had 
 been nailing a loose plank in the flooring, and looked 
 up. 
 
 '^ All right, Caleb, thank you.'* 
 
 ^^I was afear'd you might be none compasB 
 agen.^' 
 
 ''What?'' 
 
 '' None compass — Greek for * mazed.* Good-bye for 
 the present, sir." 
 
 Caleb borrowed a hammer, a nail or two, and a 
 spade, and descended again to the beach. Here he 
 chose a spot carefully, and began to dig a large hole in 
 the shingle. This finished, he turned to the board, and 
 spent some time with the brush in his hand and his 
 head on one side, tliinking. Then he began to paint 
 vigorously. 
 
CALEB PUTS UP A NOTICE. 81 
 
 Half an hour later^ a tall post witli a board on top 
 stood on the beach at Kit's House. On the board, in 
 letters six inches long, was tarred the following inscrip- 
 tion : — 
 
 
 TAKE NOTICE 
 
 
 
 ALL WIMMEN 
 
 
 FOUND 
 
 TRAPESING ON 
 
 THIS 
 
 BEECH 
 
 WILL BE DEALT 
 
 ACCORDING 
 TO THE LAW. 
 
 WITH 
 
 Above this notice jauntily rested the AdmiraFs 
 cocked hat, which had drifted ashore further up on the 
 shingle — an awful witness to the earnestness of the 
 threat and the vanity of human greatness. 
 
 Caleb stood in front of his handiwork and gazed at 
 it with honest pride for some minutes ; then went into 
 the house to fetch Mr. Fogo forth to look. He was 
 absent for some minutes. When he returned with 
 his master, theii* eyes were greeted with a curious 
 sight. 
 
 On the spit of shingle, and staring open-mouthed at 
 the notice, stood the Twins, their honest faces express- 
 ing the extreme of perplexity. A few yards oJS the 
 shore, in their boat, waited Tamsin, and leant quietly on 
 her paddles. 
 
 At the sight of her, Caleb's face fell a full inch ; 
 but he led his master down and planted him resolutely 
 
82 TUOY TOTVN. 
 
 in front of the board. Mr. Fogo stared helplessly from 
 it to the Twins. 
 
 ^' Mornin', sir/' said Peter^ after a long pause. 
 His face wore a deepened colour, and he smiled awk- 
 wardly. 
 
 *^ Good-morning/' replied Mr. Fogo. 
 
 " A fine mominV' repeated Peter, with a long gaze 
 at the board, " an' no mistake."*' 
 
 There was another long interval, during which every- 
 body stared hard at the Notice. 
 
 "'Tes a powerful fine mornin'/' Peter re-asserted 
 very slowly, " ef so be as your station in life es in no- 
 ways connected with turmuts. Ef 'tes, the less us says 
 about the mornin' the better." With this observation 
 Peter looked hard at Mr. Fogo, as if the ball of con- 
 versation now lay in that gentleman's hands. 
 
 " What do 'ee think o' this 'ere Notice ? " broke in 
 Caleb. 
 
 Paul twitched his yellow bandanna, and smiled eva- 
 sively. 
 
 "'Tes very pretty writin', sir, sure-ly," he replied, 
 addressing Mr. Fogo. "Nice thick down-strokes, an' 
 all as it shou'd be." 
 
 " Uncommon fash'nubble et makes the beach look, 
 sir, a'ready," added Peter. 
 
 Some mental reservation seemed to lurk behind this 
 criticism. Mr. Fogo looked dubiously from the Twins 
 to Caleb, who stood with his eyes fixed on his handi- 
 work. 
 
THE TWINS ARE APOLOGETIC. 83 
 
 " Axin^ your pardon, sir, an^ makin' so free as to 
 mention et/"* began Peter at length, pulling off his hat 
 and twirling the brim between his fingers, " but us was 
 a bit taken aback, not understandin'' as fash'nubbleness 
 was to begin so smart ; or us wouMn't have introoded — 
 spesh'ly Tamsin. Tamsin was thinkin^ this mornin'' as 
 a pound of fresh butter might be acceptable to the 
 gentPm'n down at Kit's House, wi' ha'f a dozen fresh 
 eggs or so, 'cos her Minorcy hen began to lay agen last 
 week, an' the spickaty Hamburg as allays lays double 
 yolks j an' Paul an' me agreed you wudn' be above accept- 
 in' a little present o' this natur', not seemin' proud, an' 
 Tamsin shou'd bring et hersel', the eggs bein' hers in a 
 manner o' speakin'. But us was not wishful to introod, 
 sir, an' iver since us seed the board here, her's been 
 keepin' her distance in the boat yonder ; on'y us stepped 
 ashore to larn ef there was anything us cou'd do to make 
 things ship-shape an' fitty for 'ee." 
 
 - At the end of this long address, Peter, whose 
 mahogany face was several shades deeper, pulled up, 
 and resumed his hat. 
 
 " Ship-shape an^ fitty — not wishful for to introod. 
 That's so, Peter," echoed his brother. 
 
 Mr. Fogo looked at the pair helplessly, and again at 
 Caleb, whose eyes were obstinately averted. 
 
 ''Caleb!" 
 
 ''Sir." 
 
 "Ask Miss Dearlove if she would mind stepping 
 ashore.'* 
 
84 TROT TO\M^. 
 
 With a sudden brightening of face, Caleb called her 
 name. Tamsin looked up. 
 
 '*Ef 'ee please, you'm to come ashore, to 
 wance ! '' 
 
 The girl rowed a couple of strokes, grounded the 
 boat, and stepped lightly ashore with a big basket and 
 an unembarrassed glance at the Notice. 
 
 '' There's a few young potatoes at the bottom,'' she 
 said, with a curtsey, as she handed her gift to Mr. Fogo. 
 '^ They're the earliest and best anywhere in these parts. 
 Can you cook potatoes ? " she asked, suddenly turning 
 to Caleb. Beneath her sun-bonnet her pretty cheek was 
 flushed, and her chin thrust forward with just a shadow 
 of defiance. 
 
 " Iss, to be sure,*' grinned Caleb. *' Why, us does 
 our own washin'." 
 
 Tamsin's eyes travelled without bashfulness over 
 the array upon the beach. 
 
 '' Pretty washing, I expect ! " She walked up and 
 took some of the clothes into her hand. " Look here — 
 not half-wrung — and some fallen in the mud and dirtied 
 worse than ever." 
 
 With fine contempt, she moved among the clothes, 
 wrung them, spread them out again, and even returned 
 with some to the wash-tub. Like four whipped school- 
 boys, the males looked on as she tucked up the sleeves 
 of her neat print gown. 
 
 ^' Soap, too, left to float in the wash-tub, and — salt 
 water I declare I Caleb, empty this and get some soft 
 
TAMSIN CRITICISES. 85 
 
 water from the old butt by the back door. Oh, you 
 
 poor, helpless baby ! '^ 
 
 Mr. Fogo, though the words were not spoken to 
 
 him, winced and turned to stare abstractedly at the 
 
 river. 
 
 * -x- * ^ * 
 
 '' Sir/-* said Caleb from his hammock that night, 
 '^ cudn^ 'ee put in a coddysel ? '' 
 
 "A codicil ?'' 
 
 '^ Iss, just to say, ' No wimmen allowed but Tarasin 
 Dearlove — us don't mind she."' Wudn' that do, sir ? '' 
 
 '^ I'm afraid not, Caleb. By-the-bye, how does your 
 Notice run ? ^ All women found trespassing will be "" 
 
 " Dealt wi' 'cordin' to the law, sir.'^ 
 
 '^ Dear me, Caleb 1 *' murmured Mr. Fogo, '^ but 1 
 trust that under no circumstances should I deal with a 
 woman otherwise than according to the law." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OF A TOWN THAT WOULD LAUGH AT THE GREAT : AND 
 HOW A DULL COMPANY WAS CURED BY A2T IRISH 
 SONG. 
 
 We left the Misses Buzza engaged in rowing their 
 papa homewards. The Three Queens as they steered 
 Kins: Arthur to Avilion can have been no sadder 
 pageant. It is true the Misses Buzza grieved for no 
 Excalibur, but the Admiral had lost his cocked hat. 
 
 Picture to yourself that procession : — the journey 
 past the jetties ; the faces that grinned down from over- 
 hanging hulls, or looked out hurriedly at casements and 
 grew pale; the blue-jerseyed Trojan lounging on the 
 quay, and pausing in his whistle to stare ; the Trojan 
 maidens gazing, with arrested needle ; the shipwrights 
 dropping mallet and tar-pot ; the ferry-men resting on 
 their oars; the makers of ship's-biscuit rushing out, 
 with aprons flying, to see the sight ; the butcher, the 
 baker, the candle-stick maker — each and all agog. Then 
 imagine the Olympian mirth that ran along the water- 
 side when Troy saw the joke, and, hand on hip, laughed 
 with all its lungs. 
 
 But even this was not the worst : no, nor the crowd 
 of urchins that followed from the landing-stage and 
 
THE admiral's CUP IS FULL. 87 
 
 cheered at intervals. It was when Admiral Buzza 
 looked up and spied the face of Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys 
 at an upper window of ' The Bower,' that the cup of 
 his humiliation indeed brimmed over. 
 
 Mrs. Buzza, " tittivating " at her mirror, heard the 
 stir, and, presentient of evil, rushed down-stairs. She 
 saw her lord restored to her, dear but damp. Yet she 
 '' nor swooned, nor uttered cry : " she simply sat violently 
 and suddenly down upon the hall-chair, and piteously 
 stared. 
 
 " Emily, get up ! " 
 
 She did so. 
 
 '* You are wet, my love," she ventured timorously. 
 
 " Wet/ Woman, is this the time for airy per- 
 siflage ? "" 
 
 " My love,'' replied Mrs. Buzza, meekly, ^^ nothing 
 was further from my thoughts. ■'' 
 
 The Admiral glared upon her for a moment, but the 
 retort died upon his lips. He flung his hands out with 
 an appealing gesture and something like a sob. 
 
 '' Emily,'"* he cried, hoarsely, *^ Troy has laughed at 
 me again. Put me to bed.'' 
 
 O forgiving heart of woman ! In a moment her 
 arms were about him^ and her tears mingling with the 
 general dampness of the Admiral's costume. Then, 
 having wept her fill, she smiled a little, dried her eyes, 
 and put the Admiral to bed. 
 
 Out of doors Troy still laughed at the mishap. The 
 whole story was soon related (with infinite humour) by 
 
88 TROY TOWN. 
 
 the unfilial Sam. Down at the " Mau-o'-War/' in the 
 bar-parlour, for seven days it formed tlie sole topic of 
 discussion ; and Mr. Moggridge (who ought to have 
 respected Sophia's father) even wrote a humorous ode 
 upon the theme, beginning — 
 
 " Te gods and little fishes ..." 
 
 and full of the quaintest conceits. For seven days, from 
 dawn to nightfall, the river off Kit's House was crowded 
 with boat-loads of curious gazers, and the Steam-Tug 
 Company (Limited) neglected its serious business to run 
 special excursions to the scene of the catastrophe. 
 
 The Trojan maidens especially would stare at the 
 Notice by the half -hour (that being the time allowed by 
 the Steam Tug Company), and hope, with much blushing 
 and giggling, to catch a glimpse of Mr. Togo. But the 
 hermit remained steadily indoors. 
 
 Meanwhile the Admiral sulked in bed, and nursed 
 his ill-humour. On Tuesday he was strangely softened 
 and quiet ; but 
 
 On Wednesday he recovered^ and began to bully his 
 wife as fiercely as ever. 
 
 On Thursday he broke the bell-rope again, and the 
 servant gave warning. 
 
 On Friday he threatened to make his will, and 
 refused his food. 
 
 On Saturday he was still fasting. 
 
 On Sunday he ate voraciously, drank four glasses of 
 grog, and threw the wash-hand basin out of window. 
 
MISS LIMPENNT ISSUES INVITATIONS. 89 
 
 On Monday Mrs. Buzza revolted, and took herself 
 offj with the girls, to Miss Linipenny's party. 
 
 Yes. Miss Limpenny had mustered courage to put 
 on her best brooch and call at * The Bower ' with Lavinia. 
 Nor did her daring end here ; it took the form of a 
 little three-cornered note on that very evening, and on 
 the next morning Mr. and Mrs. Goodwyn- Sandys 
 accepted. 
 
 '^Have great pleasure in accepting/^ read Miss 
 Limpenny to her sister. " The very words. I'm sure 
 it's most affable.'^ 
 
 '^We must have cheesecakes — the famous cheese- 
 cakes — of course/' reflected Miss Lavinia, '^ and a dish 
 of trifle, and jellies, and — oh, Priscilla ! *' 
 
 '^ What, Lavinia?'' 
 
 " Do you think a Tipsy Cake would be unbecoming?" 
 
 Miss Limpenny knit her brows over this bold 
 proposal. 
 
 '' I disapprove of the name,'^ she said. '' It has 
 always seemed to me a trifle — ahem ! — ' fast,' if I may 
 call it so. Still, we need not mention its name at supper, 
 and the taste is undeniably grateful. But, Lavinia, I 
 was thinking of a more important matter. Who are to 
 to be asked ? " 
 
 '* Why not everybody, Priscilla dear ? " 
 
 '^The Simpsons, for instance ? It is true his father 
 was a respectable solicitor, and even Mayor of Devon- 
 port I have heard, but Mr. Simpson's taste in badinage 
 is such as I cannot always approve. It is very well in 
 
90 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Troy here, where everybody knows them^ but the 
 Good wyn- Sandys are certain to be most particular, and, 
 Lavinia, that crimson gown of hers ! " 
 
 '' It is bright/^ assented Miss Lavinia. 
 
 '' And the Saunders ! What a pity the girls cannot 
 be invited without the boys/^ 
 
 " The boys have always come before, Priscilla/' 
 
 Miss Limpenny groaned. '' To meet an Honourable, 
 Lavinia ! '' 
 
 The leaven was working. 
 
 However, on the following Monday everybody was 
 assembled in the little drawing-room. The Vicar was 
 there in evening dress ; the doctor and his wife ; Mr. 
 Simpson and Mrs. Simpson in the crimson gown ; the 
 Saunders boys in carpet-slippers (at sight of which 
 Miss Limpenny went hot and cold by turns) ; the 
 Misses Buzza in book-muslin, with ultramarine sashes 
 and bronze shoes laced sandal-wise ; their mother in 
 green satin and deadly terror lest the Admiral's voice 
 should penetrate the party- wall. Mr. Moggridge was 
 frowning gloomily in a corner at some humorous story 
 of Sam Buzza's telling. In short, with the exception 
 of their Admiral, all Trojan society had gathered to do 
 honour to the new-comers. 
 
 Miss Limpenny, nervously toying with her best 
 brooch, rose in a flutter as the door opened and admitted 
 them. 
 
 ^'So afraid we are late! but the clocks at 'The 
 Bower ' have not yet recovered from their journey.'' 
 
WE ARE SHOCKED. 91 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys gazed calmly about her. 
 There was a rustle throughout the room ; two pink spots 
 appeared on Miss Limpenny's cheeks ; she stumbled in 
 her words of welcome. The Vicar frowned and looked 
 puzzled. 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys wore a low-necked gown ! 
 
 It was a shock ; but it passed. She was wonderfully 
 pretty, all admitted, in her gown of a rich amber satin 
 draped with delicate folds of black lace; around her 
 white throat a diamond necklace glistened. How well 
 I can remember her as she stood there toying with a 
 button of her glove ! And how mean and dowdy we 
 all looked beside this glittering vision ! 
 
 The Honourable Frederic Augustus Hythe Goodwyn- 
 Sandys meanwhile stared at us all calmly but firmly 
 through his eye-glass. I saw young Horatio Saunders 
 meet that gaze and sink into his carpet-slippers. I saw 
 Mr. Moggridge frown terribly, and cross his arms. Sam 
 Buzza came forward — 
 
 '' Ah, how d'ye do ? How d'ye do, Mrs. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys ? Looking round for the governor ? He's been 
 in bed for a week.'^ 
 
 I think we all envied Samuel Buzza at this moment. 
 
 " Ah, nothing serious, I hope ? *' drawled Mr. Good- 
 wyn-Sandys. 
 
 " Serious, ha, ha ! Haven't you heard " 
 
 ** Sam, dear I " expostulated Mrs. Buzza. 
 
 "All right, mother. He can't hear," and Sam 
 plunged into the story. 
 
9Z TKOY TOWN. 
 
 The ice was broken. In a few moments a whist 
 party was made up to include the Honourable Frederic, 
 and Miss Limpenny breathed more freely. Mr. Mogg- 
 ridge was led up by Sam^ and introduced. 
 
 *' Ah, indeed ! Mr. Moggridge, I have been so long- 
 ing to know you.'' 
 
 Sam looked a trifle vexed. The poet simpered that 
 he was happy, 
 
 " Of course I have been reading ' Ivy Leaves.' So 
 mournful I thought them, yet somehow so attractive. 
 How did you write it all ? '' 
 
 Mr. Moggridge confessed amiably that he " didn't 
 quite know." 
 
 " Let me see ; those lines beginning— 
 
 * give me wings to— to * 
 
 I forget for the moment how it goes on." 
 
 " ^ To fly away/ " suggested the bard. 
 
 " Ah, exactly ; ' to fly away.' So simple — ^just what 
 one would wish wings for, you know. It struck me 
 very much when I read it. When did you think of it, 
 Mr. Moggridge ? " 
 
 The poet blushed, and began to look uncomfortable. 
 
 " Ah I you are reticent. Excuse me ; I ought not to 
 probe a poet's soul. Still, I should like to be able to 
 tell my friends " 
 
 f< The — the fact is," stammered Mr. Moggridge, " I 
 — I thought of them — in — my bath." 
 
 Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys leant back and laughed — a 
 pretty rippling laugh that shook the diamonds upon her 
 
WE ARE PAINFULLY SHOCKED. 98 
 
 throat. Sam guffawed, and by this action sprang that 
 little rift between the friends that widened before long: 
 into a gulf. 
 
 '^ I shall ask you to copy them into my Album. I 
 always victimise a lion when I meet one." 
 
 This was said with a glance full of compensation. 
 ^Ir. Moggridge tried to look very leonine indeed. 
 Across the room another pair of eyes gently reproached 
 him. Never before had he tarried so long from Sophia's 
 side. Poor little heart ! beating so painfully beneath 
 your dowdy muslin bodice ! It was early yet for you to 
 ache. 
 
 '' Ohj ah, Dick Cheddar — knew him well," came in 
 the sonorous tones of the Honourable Frederic from the 
 whist-table. '^ So you were at College with him — first 
 cousin to Lord Stilton — get the title if he only outlives 
 the old man — good fellow, Dick — but drinks." 
 
 " Dear me," said the Vicar ; " I am sorry to hear 
 that. He was wild at Christchurch, but nothing out 
 of the way. Why, I remember at the Aylesbury 
 Grinds " 
 
 Miss Limpenny, who did not know an Aylesbury 
 Grind from a Bampton Lecture, yet detected an un- 
 familiar ring in the Vicar's voice. 
 
 " He fought a welsher," pursued the Vicar, " just 
 before riding in a race. ' Rollingstone,' his horse was, 
 and Cheddar's eyes closed before the second fence. 
 * Tom,' he called to me — I was on a mare called Bar- 
 maid " 
 
94 TROY TOWN. 
 
 I ask you to guess tlie amazement that fell among 
 us. He — our Vicar — riding a mare called Barmaid I 
 Miss Limpenny cast lier eyes up to meet the descent of 
 the thunderbolt. 
 
 " Lord Ballarat was riding too/' the Vicar went on, 
 " and young Tom Beauchamp, son of the Bishop " 
 
 " Died of D.T. out at Malta with the Ninety-ninth/' 
 interpolated the Honourable Frederic. 
 
 '' So I heard, poor fellow. Three-bottle Beauchamp 
 we called him. V\e put him to bed many a time 
 when ^' 
 
 It was too much. 
 
 '^n the Great Exhibition of 1851/' began Miss 
 Priscilla severely. 
 
 But at this moment a dreadful rumbling shook the 
 room. The chandeliers rattled, the egg-shell china 
 danced upon the what-not, and a jarring sensation 
 suddenly ran up the spine of every person in the com- 
 pany. 
 
 " It's an earthquake ! " shouted the Honourable 
 Frederic, starting up with an oath. 
 
 Miss Limpenny thought an earthquake nothing less 
 than might be expected after such language. Louder 
 and still louder grew the rumbling, until the very walls 
 shook. Everybody turned to a ghastly white. The 
 Vicar's face bore eloquent witness to the reproach of his 
 conscience. 
 
 '^ I think it must be thunder,'' he gasped. 
 
 " Or a landslip," suggested Sam Buzz^. 
 
WE ARE DISMALLY SHOCKED. 96 
 
 ''Or a paroxysm of Nature/' said Mr. Moggridge 
 (though nobody knew what he meant). 
 
 '' Or the end of the world/' hazarded Mr. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys. 
 
 '^I beg your pardon^'* interposed Mrs. Buzza timidly, 
 *' but I think it may be my husband." 
 
 " Is your husband a volcano, madam ? " snapped Mr. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys, rather sharply. 
 
 Mrs. Buzza might have answered " Yes/' with some 
 colour of truth ; but she merely said, '^ I think it must 
 be his double-bass. My husband is apt in hours of 
 depression to seek the consolation of that instru- 
 ment." 
 
 " But, my dear madam, what is the tune ? " 
 
 "I think/' she faltered, "I am not sure, but I rather 
 think, it is the ^Dead March ' in Saul." 
 
 There was no doubt of it The notes by this 
 time vibrated pitilessly through the party-wall, and 
 with their awful solemnity triumphed over all conver- 
 sation. Tones became hushed, as though in the presence 
 of death; and the Vicar, in his desperate attempts to 
 talk, found his voice chained without mercy to the slow 
 foot of the dirge. He tried to laugh. 
 
 " Really, this is too absurd — ha ! ha ! Tum-tum- 
 iiddy-tumy The effort ended in ghastly failure. 
 Thriim4hrum-tiddy4lirum went the Admiral's instru- 
 ment. 
 
 Miss Limpenny grew desperate. '^ Sophia," she 
 pleaded, " pray sing us one of your cheerful balladd," 
 
96 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Sophia looked at Mr. Moggridge. He had always 
 turned over the pages for her so devotedly. Surely he 
 would make some sign now. Alas 1 all his eyes were for 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys. 
 
 ^' I will try," she assented with something danger 
 ously like a sob. 
 
 She stepped to the " Collard," at a pace remorselessly 
 timed to the '' Dead March/' and chose her ballad— a 
 trifle of Mr. Moggridge's composition. It would re- 
 proach him more sharply than words, she thought. A 
 cloud of angry tears blurred her sight as she struck the 
 tinkling prelude. 
 
 " A mouth ago Lysaiider prayed 
 
 To Jove, to Cupid, and to Yenus " 
 
 Thrum4hmm4hrum went the double-bass next dooi. 
 
 Mr. Moggridge looked up. How thin and reedy Sophia's 
 
 voice sounded to-night 1 He had never thought so 
 
 before. 
 
 *' That he might die, if he betrayed 
 
 A single vow that passed between us." 
 
 " Sweetly touching 1 " murmured Mrs. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys. 
 
 Sophia pursued— 
 
 ** careless gods, to hear so ill, 
 
 And cheat the maid on you relying ; 
 For false Lysander's thriving still, 
 And 'tis Corinna lies a-dyiug." 
 
 "Is that all?" asked Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys as 
 Sophia with flushed cheeks left the piano. 
 
WE ARE FURTHER SHOCKED. 97 
 
 *<That is all— a little efPort not worth " 
 
 ^' Ohj it is yours ! But/' with a sweet smile, ** I 
 ought to have guessed. You must write a song for 
 me one of these days." 
 
 *^ Do you sing ? " cried the delighted Mr. Moggridge. 
 
 Sam, who had been waiting for a chance to speak, 
 shouted across the room — ^' I say. Miss Limpenny, Mrs. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys will sing if you ask her." 
 
 After very little solicitation, and with none of the 
 coyness common to amateurs, she seated herself at the 
 mstrument, quietly pulled off her gloves, and dashed 
 without more ado into a rollicking Irish ditty. 
 
 " Be aisy au' list to a chune 
 That's sung uv bowld Tun, the dragoon ; 
 Sure, 'twas he'd niver miss 
 To be stahn' a kiss — 
 Or a brace — by the hght uv the moon, 
 
 Aroon, 
 Wid a YFink at the man in the moon ! " 
 
 " Really I '^ murmured Miss Limpenny. The keys 
 of the decorous ' Col lard ' clashed as they had never 
 clashed before. The guests, at first shocked and 
 startled, began to be carried away with the reckless 
 swing of the music. The Vicar stared for a moment, 
 and then began gradually to nod his head to the 
 measure. 
 
 *' You must sing the last line in chorus, please/* 
 said Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys from the piano— 
 " Wid a wink at the man in the moon I " 
 
 H 
 
98 TROY TOWN. 
 
 It was sung timidly at first. Nothing daunted, the 
 performer plunged into the next verse — 
 
 " Rest Ms sowl in the arms uv owld Nick ! 
 For he's gone from the land uv the quick : 
 But he's still makin' luv 
 To the loddies above, 
 An' be jabbers ! he'll tache 'em the thrick, 
 
 Avick, 
 Niver fear but he'll tache 'em the thrick ! " 
 
 There was no doubt this time. By the spirit of her 
 mad singing, by some demon that rode upon her full 
 and liquid voice, the whole company seemed possessed. 
 Miss Limpenny looked furtively towards the Vicar. He 
 was actually joining in the chorus ! And what a chorus 1 
 She put her mittened palms to her ears, such a shout it 
 was that went up. 
 
 '"Tis by Tim the dear saints 'U set sthore, 
 And 'ull thrate him to whiskey galore ; 
 For they've only to sip 
 But the tip uv his lip. 
 An' bedad ! they'll be askin' for more, 
 
 Asthore, 
 By the powers ! they'll be shoutin' ' Ancore * ! ** 
 
 It was no longer an assembly of dull and dec^t 
 citizens : it was a room full of lunatics yelling the 
 burden of this frantic Irish song. Laughingly, Mrs. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys rested her fingers on the keys and 
 looked around. These stolid Trojans had caught fire. 
 There was the little Doctor purple all above his stock ; 
 
WE ARB NOT AT ALL SHOCKBD. 99 
 
 there was the Vicar with inflated cheeks and a hag- 
 ridden stare; there was Mr. Moggridge snapping his 
 fingers and almost capering ; there was Miss Limpenny 
 with her under- jaw dropped and her eyes agape. They 
 were charmed, bewitched, crazy. 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys saw this, and broke into a 
 silveiy laugh. The infection spread. In an instant 
 the whole room burst into a peal, a roar. They laughed 
 until the tears ran down their cheeks ; they held their 
 sides and laughed again She had them at her will. 
 
 There was no more wonder after this. At supper the 
 talk was furious and incessant ; Miss Lavinia spoke of a 
 " tipsy- cake ^^ and never blushed ; the Vicar took wine 
 with everybody, and told more stories of Three-bottle 
 Beauchamp ; even Sophia laughed with the rest, al- 
 though her heart was aching — for still her poet 
 neglected her and hung with her brother on the lips 
 of Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys. I saw him bring the poor 
 givYs cloak in the hall afterwards, and receive the most 
 piteous of glances. I doubt if he noticed it. 
 
 Outside, the Admiral^s double-bass was still droning 
 the "Dead March" to Miss Limpenny's laurustinus 
 grove. It was the requiem of our decorum. Long 
 after I was in bed that night I heard the voice of Mr. 
 Moggridge trolling down the street — 
 
 "An' be jabbers ! he'U tache 'em the thrick ! " 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys had " taught us the trick,** 
 indeed. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF ONE EXCURSION AND MANY ALARUMS. 
 
 *' Caleb ! '' said Mr. Fogo on the morning after Miss 
 Limpenny's party. 
 
 '^ Aye, aye, sir ! " Caleb paused in his carpentering 
 to look up. 
 
 "It is a lovely morning; I think I will take my 
 easel and go for a walk. You are sure that the crowds 
 have gone at last ? '* 
 
 *'A11 gone, sir. Paice and quiet at last — as Bill 
 said when he was left a widow. Do ^ee want me to go 
 'long wi' ^ee, sir ? " 
 
 '^ No, thank you, Caleb. I shall go along the hills 
 on this side of the river." 
 
 " You^d best let me come, sir, or you'll be wool- 
 gathering and wand'rin' about till goodness knows what 
 time o^ night." 
 
 " I shall be back by four o'clock." 
 " Stop a minnit, sir ; I have et. I'll jest put that 
 alarmin' clock o' yourn in your tail-pocket an' set et to 
 ha'f-arter-dree, an' that'll put you in mind when 'tes 
 time to come hom'. 'Tes a wonnerful in-jine, this 'ere 
 clock," reflected Caleb as he carefully set the alarum, 
 *' an' chuck-full o' sense, like Malachi's cheeld. Lor,' 
 
MR. FOGO OafiS A-WALKlN*i. 101 
 
 what a thing es Science, as Jenifer said when her seed 
 the telly grarf -clerk in platey buttons an' red facings to 
 his breeches. Up the path, sir, an' keep to the left. 
 Good-bye, sir ! Now, Vd gie summat,'' soliloquised 
 Caleb as he watched his master ascend the hill, '' to 
 be sure of seein' him back safe an' sound afore night- 
 fall. Aw dear ! 'tes a terrable 'sponsible post, bein' 
 teetotum to a babby ! " 
 
 With this he walked back to the house, but more 
 than once halted on his way to ponder and shake his 
 head ominously. 
 
 Mr. Togo meanwhile, with easel and umbrella on 
 his arm, climbed the hill slowly and with frequent 
 pauses to turn and admire the landscape. It was the 
 freshest of spring mornings : the short turf was beaded 
 with dew, the furze-bushes on either hand festooned 
 with gossamer and strung with mimic diamonds. As 
 he looked harbourwards, the radiance of sky mingling 
 with the glitter of water dazzled and bewildered his 
 sight : below, and at the foot of the steep woods oppo- 
 site, the river lay cool and shadowy, or vanished for a 
 space beneath a cliff, where the red plough-land broke 
 abruptly away with no more warning than a crazy 
 hurdle. Distinct above the dreamy hum of the little 
 town, the ear caught the rattle of anchor-chains, the 
 cries of an outward-bound crew at the windlass, the 
 clanking of trucks beside the jetties; the creaking of 
 oars in the thole-pins of a tiny boat below ascended 
 musically ; the very air was quick with all sounds and 
 
102 TROY VOWN. 
 
 suggestions of spring, and of man going forth to his 
 labour; the youthfulness of the morning ran in Mr. 
 Fogo's veins, and lent a buoyancy to his step. 
 
 By this time the town was lost to view ; next, the 
 bend of Kit^s House vanished, and now the broad flood 
 spread in a silver lake full ahead. On the ridge the 
 pure air was simply intoxicating after the languor of 
 the valley. Mr. Fogo began to skip, to snap his 
 fingers, to tilt at the gossamer with his umbrella, and 
 once even halted to laugh hilariously at nothing. An 
 old horse grazing on an isolated patch of turf looked up 
 in mild surprise ; Mr. Fogo blushed behind his spectacles 
 and hurried on. 
 
 He had gone some distance when a granite roller 
 lying on the ploughed slope beneath a clump of bushes 
 invited him to rest. Mr. Fogo accepted the invitation, 
 and seated himself to contemplate the scene. The bush 
 at his back was comfortable, and by degrees the bright 
 intoxication of his senses settled to a drowsy content. 
 He pulled out his pipe and lit it. Through the curls of 
 blue smoke he watched the glitter on the water below, 
 the prismatic dazzle of the clods where their glossy 
 surface caught the sun, the lazy flap-flap of a heron 
 crossing the valley, and he heard along the uplands the 
 voice (sweetest of rural sounds, and, alas ! now obso- 
 lete) of a farm-boy chanting to his team, " Brisk and 
 Speedwell, Goodluck and Lively '^ — and so sank by 
 degrees into a soothing sleep. 
 
 When he awoke and looked lazily upwards^ at first 
 
A RED BULL. 103 
 
 his eyes encountered gloom. '^ Have I been sleeping all 
 day ?^^ was his first thought, not without alarm. But 
 under the darkness a bright ray was stealing. Mr. Fogo 
 put up his hand and encountered his umbrella, carefully 
 spread over his face for shade. 
 
 This was mysterious ; he could swear the umbrella 
 was folded and lying at his side when he dropped asleep. 
 "It must be Caleb/^ he thought, and stared around. 
 No Caleb was in sight, but he noticed that the sun was 
 dropping towards the west, and noticed also, not fifty 
 yards to the left, and quietly cropping a tuft of bushes, 
 a red bull. 
 
 Now Mr. FogC' had an extreme horror of bulls, 
 especially red bulls, and this one was not merely red, but 
 looked savage, to boot. Mr. Fogo peered again round 
 the corner of his umbrella. The brute luckily had not 
 spied him, but neither did it seem in any hurry to move. 
 For twenty minutes Mr. Fogo waited behind his shelter, 
 and still the bull went on cropping. 
 
 It was already late, and the brute stood full in the 
 homeward path to Kit^s House. It was only possible to 
 make a circuit around the ridge, as the cliff's edge cut 
 off a detour on the other side. Weary of waiting, Mr. 
 Fogo cautiously arose, pushed his easel under the bushes, 
 and began to creep up towards the ridge, holding his 
 umbrella in front of him as a screen. This was rather 
 after the fashion of the ostrich, which, to avoid being 
 seen, buries its head in the sand j nor was it likely that 
 the beast, if irritated at sight of a man, would acquiesce 
 
104 TROY TOWN. 
 
 in the phenomenon of an umbrella at larg-e^ and strolling 
 on its own responsibility. But as yet the bull's back 
 was towards it. 
 
 Stealthily Mr. Fogo crept round. He had placed 
 about seventy yards between hira and the animal, and 
 had almost gained the summit when a dismal accident 
 befell. 
 
 <i Cl'k — Wliir-r-r-r-roO'OO-oo ! " 
 
 It was the alarum in his tail-pocket. The bull 
 looked up, gazed wildly at the umbrella, snorted, lashed 
 out with his tail, and started in pursuit. Quick as 
 thought, Mr. Fogo dropped his screen, and, with a 
 startled glance around, dashed at full speed for the 
 ridge, the infernal machine still dinning behind him. 
 
 Luckily, the bull's onset was directed at the umbrella. 
 There was a thundering of hoofs, a dull roar, and the 
 poor man, as he gained the summit and cast a frantic 
 look behind, saw a vision of jagged silk and flying ribs. 
 With a groan he tore forwards. 
 
 There was a hedge about fifty yards away, and for 
 this he made with panting sides and tottering knees. If 
 he could only stop that alarum ! But the relentless noise 
 continued, and now he could hear the bull in fresh 
 pursuit. However, the umbrella had diverted the attack. 
 After a few seconds of agony Mr. Fogo gained the 
 hedge, tore up it, turned, saw the brute appear above 
 the ridge with a wreck of silk and steel upon his horns, 
 and with a sob of thankfulness dropped over into the 
 next field. 
 
DEVIL AND DEEP SEA. 105 
 
 But, alas ! in doing so Mr. Fogo performed the 
 common feat of leaping out of the frying-pan into the 
 fii'e. For it happened that on the other side a tramp 
 was engaged in his legitimate occupation of sleeping 
 under a hedge, and on his extended body our hero 
 rudely descended. 
 
 " Hi ! " said the tramp, *^ where be you a-comin' 
 to?'' 
 
 Mr. Fogo picked himself up and felt for his 
 spectacles ; they had tumbled off in his flight, and 
 without them his face presented a curiously naked 
 appearance. The alarum in his pocket had stopped 
 suddenly with the jerk of his descent. 
 
 '' I beg your pardon," he mildly apologised, '^ but a 
 bull in the next field ** 
 
 " That's no cause for selectin' a gentl'm'n's stomach 
 to tumble 'pon,-" growled the tramp. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, I'm sure," repeated Mr. Fogo ; 
 "you may be sure that had time for selection been 
 allowed me " 
 
 " Look 'ere," said the tramp with sudden ferocity, 
 " will you fight ? " 
 
 Mr. Fogo retreated a step. 
 
 " Really " 
 
 " Come, look sharp I You won't ? Then I demands 
 'arf-a-crown." 
 
 With this the ruffian began to tuck up his ragged 
 cuffs, and was grimly advancing. Mr. Fogo leapt back 
 another pace. 
 
106 TROT TOWN. 
 
 " CVk — Whir-r-r-r-roO'00'00 ! " 
 
 This time the alarum was his salvation. The tramp 
 pulled up, gave a hasty terrified stare, and with a cry of 
 '^ The Devil ! ^^ made off across the field as fast as his 
 legs would carry him. Overcome with the emotions of 
 the last few minutes Mr. Togo sat suddenly down^ and 
 the alarum ceased. 
 
 When he recovered he found himself in an awkward 
 predicament. He knew of but one way homewards, and 
 that was guarded by the bull ; moreover, if he attempted 
 to find another road he was hampered by the loss of his 
 spectacles, without which he could not see a yard before 
 his nose. 
 
 However, anything was better than facing the bull 
 again ; so he arose, picked the brambles out of his cloth- 
 ing, and started cautiously across the field. 
 
 As luck would have it he found a gate ; but another 
 field followed, and a third, into which he had to climb 
 by the hedge. And here he suffered from a tendency 
 known to all mountaineers who have lost their way in a 
 mist ; unconsciously he began to trend away towards 
 the left, and as this led him further and further from 
 home, his plight became every moment more desperate. 
 
 At last he struck into a narrow lane, just as the sun 
 sank. He halted for a moment to consider his direc- 
 tion. 
 
 ^< Pat— pat— pat.'' 
 
 He looked up. A little girl in an immense sun- 
 bonnet was toddling up the lane towards him. She 
 
THE ALAHUM EUNS DOWN. 107 
 
 swung a satchel in her left hand, and at sight of 
 the stranger paused with her unoccupied forefinger in 
 mouth. 
 
 Mr. Fogo advanced straight up to her, stooped with 
 his hands on his knees, and peered into her face. This 
 behaviour, though necessitated by his shortness of sight, 
 worked the most paralysing effect on the child. 
 
 "Little girl, can you tell me the way to Kit's 
 House?'' 
 
 There was no answer. Mr. Fogo peered more 
 closely. 
 
 "Little girl, can you tell me the way to Kit's 
 House?" 
 
 Still there was no answer. 
 
 " Little girl " 
 
 " CVh — whir-r-r-r-roO'OO ! " 
 
 The effect of the alarum was instantaneous. 
 
 " Boo-hoo ! " yelled the little girl, and broke into a 
 paroxysm of weeping. 
 
 " Little girl " 
 
 " Boo-hoo ! Take me home. I want mammy ! " 
 
 " Dear me," cried Mr. Fogo wildly, " this is the 
 most appalling situation in which I have ever been 
 placed." He thought of running away, but his 
 humanity forbade it. At length the alarum ran down ; 
 but the child continued to scream — 
 
 " I want mammy ! Take me home V 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! She shall go to mammy — ickle 
 tootsey shall go to mammy. Did-ums want-ums 
 
108 TROY TOWN. 
 
 mammy?" shouted Mr. Fogo, with an idiotic effort to 
 soothe. 
 
 But it was useless. The screams merely increased 
 in volume. Mr. Fogo, leaning against the hedge, 
 mopped his brow and looked helplessly around. 
 
 '• What on earth is to be done ? " 
 
 There was a sudden sound o£ Hght footsteps, and 
 then, to his immense relief, Tamsin Dearlove stood 
 before him. She looked as fresh and neat as ever, 
 and carried a small basket on her arm. 
 
 '^Whatever is the matter? Why, ^tis little Susie 
 Clemow I What^s the matter, Susie ? " She set down 
 her basket and ran to the child, who immediately ceased 
 to yell. 
 
 "There now, that's better. Did the big strange 
 gentleman try to frighten her ? Poor little maid ! " 
 
 " I assure you," said Mr. Fogo, ^^ I tried to do 
 nothing of the kind." 
 
 Tamsin paid no attention. 
 
 '' There now, we^re as good as gold again, and can 
 run along home. Give me a kiss fii'stj that's a 
 dear." 
 
 The little maid, still sobbing fitfully, gave the kiss, 
 picked up her satchel, and toddled off, leaving Tamsin 
 and Mr. Fogo face to face. 
 
 '' Why did you frighten her ? ** the girl asked 
 severely. There was an angry flush on her cheek. 
 
 '' I did not intentionally. It was the alarum. First 
 of all I was chased by a bull, and then " Mr. Fogo 
 
TAMSIN IS ANGRY. 109 
 
 told his story incoherently. The angry red left Tamsin's 
 cheek, and a look of disdain succeeded. 
 
 "And you/"* she said very slowly, when he had 
 finished, " think you are ahle to despise womankind.'* 
 
 It was Mr. Fogo's turn to grow red. 
 
 " And to put up a board/' she continued, " with that 
 silly Notice upon it — you and that great baby Caleb 
 Trotter — setting all women at naught, when you never 
 ought to be beyond tether of their apron-strings. 
 Why, only this morning you'd have caught a sun^stroke 
 if I hadn't spread your umbrella over you.'' 
 
 '' Did you do that ? " 
 
 ^* And who else do you suppose ? A man, perhaps ? 
 Why, there isn't a man in the world would have had 
 the sense — 'less it was Peter or Paul," she added, with 
 a sudden softening of voice, "and they're women in 
 everything but strength. And now," she went on, 
 " as I'm going that way, I suppose you'll want me to 
 see you home. Will you walk in front or behind, 
 for doubtless you're above walking beside a woman ? " 
 
 Mr. Fogo looked up. 
 
 " I think you are treating me very hardly." 
 
 " Maybe I am, and maybe I meant to. Maybe you 
 didn't know that that Notice of yours might hurt 
 people's feelings. Don't think I mean mine," she ex- 
 plained quickly and defiantly, " but Peter's and Paul's." 
 
 There was a pause as they walked along together. 
 
 " The board shall come down," said he ; " and now 
 may I carry your basket ? " 
 
110 TROY TOWN. 
 
 *^ My basket ? Do you think I'd trust a man to carry 
 eggs ? " She laughed, but with a trace of forgiveness. 
 
 He did not answer, but seemed to have fallen into 
 a fit of troubled contemplation. They walked on in 
 silence. 
 
 Presently she halted. 
 
 " I doubt you\'e had trouble in your time, and IVe 
 hurt your feelings and spoken as I oughtn^t to have 
 spoken to my betters; but I've seen that Peter and 
 Paul were hurt in mind, and that made me say more 
 than I meant. Yonder's your way down to Kit's House. 
 Good-nighty sir." 
 
 Mr. Fogo would have held out his hand, but she 
 was gone quickly down the road. He stood for a 
 minute looking after her; then turned and walked 
 quickly down the path to Kit's House. 
 
 Caleb met him at the door. 
 
 ^^ So you'm back, an' I hopes you enj'yed your walk, 
 as Sal said when her man corned home from France. I 
 was just a-comin' to luk for 'ee. Where's your easy-all 
 and your umbrella ? " 
 
 Mr. Fogo told his story. 
 
 '' H'm I " said Caleb, '' an' Tamsin saw 'ee home ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and by the way, Caleb, you may as well take 
 down that Notice to-morrow." 
 
 " H'm !" muttered Caleb again. "You're quite sure 
 thicky coddysel won't do ? " 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 " Very well, sir,", said Caleb, and began to busy 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF THE COMMON BULL. Ill 
 
 himself with the evening meal. But he looked curi- 
 ously at his master more than once during the evening. 
 Mr. Togo spent most of the time in a brown study, 
 smoking and gazing abstractedly into the fire. Caleb 
 also smoked (it was one of his privileges), and finally, 
 with an anxious glance, and two or three hard puffs at 
 his pipe, broke the silence — 
 
 " The bull es a useful animal, an' when dead sup- 
 plies us wi' rump-steaks an' shoe-horns, as the Sunday- 
 school book says : but for all that there's suthin' lachiri 
 to a bull. 'Tain't conviction : you niver seed a bull yet 
 as wasn' chuck-full o' conviction, an^ didn' act up to hes 
 rights, such as they be. An' 'tain't consistency : you 
 drill a notion into a bull's head an' fix et, an' he'll save 
 et up, maybe for six year, an* then rap et out on 'ee till 
 you^m fairly sick for your own gad-about ways. 'Tes 
 logic he wants, I reckon — jest logic. A bull, su', es no 
 more'n a mass o' bhnd onreas'ning prejudice from horn 
 to tail. Take hes sense o' colour : he can't abide red. 
 Ef you press the matter, there ain't no more reas'n for 
 this than that hes father afore him cudn' abide et ; but 
 how does he act ? ' HuUoa ! * says he, ' there's a party 
 in red, an' I don't care a tinker's cuss whether 'tes a 
 mail-cart or a milisha-man : I'm bound to stop this 'ere 
 taste for red ef I dies nex' minnit.' And at et he goes 
 accordin'. Ef he seed the Scarlet Woman about in hes 
 part o' the country, he'd lay by an' h'ist her, an' you'd 
 say, ' Well done ! ' an' I don't say you'd be wrong. 
 But jest you stop an' ax hes motives, an' you'll find 
 
112 TROY TOWN. 
 
 'tain't religion. Lor' bless 'ee, sir, a bulPs got no more 
 use for religion than a toad for side-pockets. 'Tes ob- 
 stinacy — tbat-'s what ''tes. You tells me a jackass es 
 obstinate. Well, an^ that's true in a way; and so's a 
 hog, Ef you wants quiet contrariness, a jackass or a 
 hog ■'11 both sit out a bull ; an' tho' you may cuss the 
 pair till you sweats like a fuz'-bush on a dewy mornin', 
 'tes like heavin' bricks into a bott'mless pit. But a 
 bull ups an' lets 'ee know ; there ain't no loiterin' round 
 an' arrangin' yer subjec' under heads when ke's about. 
 You don't get no pulpit ; an', what's more, you don't 
 stop to touch your hat when you makes your congees. 
 'Tes jest pull hot-foot, and thank the Lord for hedges ; 
 'cos he's so full o' his own notions as a Temp'rance 
 speaker, an' bound to convence 'ee, ef he rams daylight 
 in 'ee to do et. That's a bull. An' here's anuther 
 p'int ; he lays head to ground when hes beliefs be 
 crossed, an' you may so well whissle as try the power o' 
 the human eye — talkin' o' which puts me i' mind o' 
 some curious fac's as happ'n'd up to Penhellick wan time, 
 along o' this same power o' the human eye. Maybe 
 you'd like to hear the yarn." 
 
 " Eh ? " Mr. Fogo roused himself from his ab- 
 straction. '' Yes, certainly, I should like to hear it." 
 
 Cdleb knocked his pipe meditatively against the bars 
 of the grate ; filled it again and lit it ; took an energetic 
 pull or two, and then, after another hard look at his 
 master across the clouds of smoke, began without more 
 ado. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OP A WESL^YAN MINISTER THAT WOULD IMPROVE UPON 
 NATURE; AND THEREBY TRAINED A ROOK TO GOOD 
 PRINCIPLES. 
 
 '' WelL; sir, et all happen'd when I lived up to Pen- 
 hellick, an' worked long wi' Varmer Men near. Ould 
 Lawyer Mennear, as he was a-nicknamed — a little 
 cribbage-f aced man, wi^ a dandy-go-russet wig, an' on'y 
 wan eye : leastways, he hadn' but wan fust along 
 when I knawed 'n. That's what the yarn's about, 
 tho' ; so us '11 go slow, ef you plaise, an' hush a bit, 
 as Mary Beswetherick said to th' ingine-driver. 
 
 " Now, Lawyer Mennear was a circuit-preacher, o' 
 theWesleyan Methody persuash'n, tho'he'd a-got to cross- 
 pupposes wi' the rest o' the brethren an' runned a sect 
 all to hissel', which he called th' United Free Church 
 o' 'Rig'nal Seceders. They was^called 'Rig'nal Seceders 
 for short, an' th' ould man had a toler'ble dacent fol- 
 lowin', bein' a fust-class mover o' souls an' powerful hot 
 agen th' unregenrit, which didn' prevent hes bein' a 
 miserable ould varmint, an' so deep as Garrick in hes 
 ord'nary dealin's. Aw, he was a reg'lar split-fig, an' 
 'ud go where the devil can't, an' that's atween the oak 
 an' the rind." 
 I 
 
114 TROY TOWN, 
 
 '' I see/^ said Mr. Fogo. 
 
 " IsSj sir. Why, the very fust day I tuk sarvice — 1 
 was a tiny tacker then — he says to me, ' Caleb, my boy, 
 you'm lookin' all skin an' bones for the present, but 
 there's no knawin* what Penhellick beef an' pudden 
 may do for *ee yet, ef 'tes eaten wi' a thankful heart. 
 Howsoever, 'bout the work. I wants you to take the 
 dree jackasses an' go to beach for ore-weed, an' as I 
 likes to gie a good boy like you a vew privileges, you 
 be busy an' carry so many seams'^ as you can, an' I'll 
 gie drappence for ivery seam more'n twenty.' 
 
 '^ Well, sir, I worked like a Trojan, an' ha'f killed 
 they jackasses; an' I tell 'ee 'twas busy all to carry 
 dree-an'-twenty seam. In the eveling, arter work, I 
 went to Lawyer Mennear an' axed 'n 'bout the nine- 
 pence — I niver got ninepence so hard in all my born 
 days. When he paid me, he looked so sly, an' says 
 he— 
 
 *' ' You'm a nation clever boy, you be, an' I doan't 
 gridge 'ee the money. But now I sees what you can 
 do, of cou'se I shall 'spect 'ee to carry dree-an'-twenty 
 seam ivery day, reg'lar : * for the workman,' says he^ 
 ' es worthy of hes hire.' 
 
 " * Darn et ! ' thought I to mysel', ^ this won't do ; ' 
 an' I niver seed azackly the beef an' pudden th' ould 
 man talked about. Hows'ever, I stayed wi' the psalmas- 
 'untin' ould cadger, tho' et made me 'most 'mazed at 
 limes to hear the way he'd carry on down at the Meetin' 
 * A cart-ioad. 
 
UNCTION. 116 
 
 House ^bout the sen o* greed an' the like, an' all the 
 time lookin' round to see who owed 'n a happeny. 
 ' My brethren/ he'd call out, ^ my pore senful flock, e£ 
 you clings to your flocks an' herds, an' tents an' dyed 
 apparel, like onto Korah shall you be, an' like onto 
 Dathan an' Abiram, so sure as I be sole agent for 
 Carnaby's Bone Manure in this 'ere destrict.' 'Tes true, 
 sir. An' then he'd rap out the hemn, ' Common metre, 
 my brethren, an' Sister Tresidder '11 gie the pitch — 
 
 * Whativer, Lord, us lends to Thee 
 Repaid a thousan'fold '11 be, 
 Then gladly will us gie to Thee.* 
 
 An' I reckon that was 'bout the size o't. Aw, he was 
 an anointed ould rascal. 
 
 '^All the same. Lawyer Mennear was reckonM a 
 powerful wrastler en the sperrit by the rest o' the 
 Church-Membership; on'y there was wan thing as 
 went agen 'un, an' that was he hadn' but wan eye ; tho' 
 Maria Chirgwin, as was known to have had experience, 
 an' was brought under conviction by th' ould man, told 
 me that et made ''n luk the more terrifyin' ■" 
 
 " Like Polyphemus,^' put in Mr. Fogo. 
 
 " Polly which ? " 
 
 " Never mind.'' 
 
 "I disknowledged the surname. But niver mind, 
 as you say, sir ; f eelin's es f eelin's, an' th' ould Mennear's 
 wan eye went mortal agen 'un. Not but what he 
 wudn' turn et to account now an' then. *Tummas 
 
116 TKOl TOWN. 
 
 doubted/ he said wan day, ' an' how was he convenced ? 
 Why, by oracular demonstrashun ' " 
 
 ^^ Ocular, Caleb/' 
 
 " Right you are, sir, an^ thankye for the correcshun, 
 as the boy said to the pupil-teacher ; ' by oc-u-lar demon- 
 strashun,'' says he. ^ P'raps you dunno what ocular 
 demonstrashun es, my brethren. Well, I'll tell 'ee. 
 That's a wall, ain't et ? An' I'm a preacher, arn't I ? 
 An' you be worms, hain't 'ee ? Why, I can see that 
 much tho' I kanH but wan eye. An' that's ocular 
 demonstrashun.' 
 
 " But, as I was sayin', wan eye es a wisht bus'ness, 
 howsomever you may turn et up'ards an' call et your 
 thorn i' the flesh, an' the likes ; an' more'n a few o' the 
 'Rig'nal Seceders fell away from th' ould man's Meetin' 
 House, and became backsliders dro' fear o' being over- 
 looked an' ill-wished, so they said. I reckon 'twas all 
 quignogs, but et did luk plaguey like th' evil eye, an' 
 that there's no deny in'. 
 
 '' Well, sir, matters went on i' this way for a brave 
 time, an' the 'tendance got less, till Lawyer Mennear 
 was fairly at hes wits' end. He talked o' weak-kneed 
 brethren, an' ' puttin' your ban's to the plough,' an' dreshed 
 the pilm"^ out o' cush'n afore 'un, an' kicked up a purty 
 dido, till you cou'd hear the randivoose o' Sunday 
 mornin's 'way over t'other side o' Carne hill ; but 'twarn't 
 no manner o' good. An' as for the childer at the 
 Sunday-school — th' ould rapscallion laid powerful store 
 
117 
 
 by hes Sunday-school — ^twas ^ bear a hand ivery wan ' to 
 get mun to face that eye : an^ you mou't clane their 
 faces an' grease their hair as you wouM, the mothers 
 told me, an^ see mun off ''pon the road to Meetin' 
 House ; but turn your back, an' they'd be mitchin' "^ in a 
 brace o' shakes an' 'way to go for Coombe beach, an' 
 playin' hidey-peep in their clane pinnyfores 'mong the 
 rocks. 
 
 " Aw, 'twas shee-vo ! 'mong the Church Members, 
 an' no mistake ; an' how 'twud ha' come round, there's 
 no telling, ef et hadn' a-been for what Lawyer Mennear 
 called a vouchsafement o' marcy. An' the way thicky 
 vouchsafement comed about was this : — 
 
 " Th' ould man was up to Plymouth wan day 'bout 
 some shares he'd a-tuk in a tradin' schooner; for he'd 
 a finger in most pies. Nuthin' i' the way o' bus'ness 
 comed amiss to^n. Like Nicholas Kemp, he'd occashun 
 for all.'^ 
 
 '' Who was Nicholas Kemp ? " inquired Mr. Fogo. 
 
 '* On'y a figger o' speech, sir. Well, ould Mennear 
 had a-done bus'ness, an' was strollin' up Union Street 
 'long wi' his missus — Aunt Deb'rah Mennear, as her 
 name was — a fine, bowerly woman, but a bit ha'f -baked 
 in her wits ; put in wi' the bread, as they say, an' tuk 
 out wi^ the cakes — when he fetches up 'pon a sudden 
 afore a shop-windey. There was crutches inside, an' 
 jury -legs fash'ned out o' cork, an' plaster heads drawn 
 out in maps wi' county-towns marked in, an' bumps to 
 * Playing truant. 
 
118 TROT TOWN. 
 
 show why different folks broke different Commandments, 
 an* rows o* teeth a-grizzlin', an' blue spectacles, an' 
 splints enough to camp-shed a thirty-acred fields an"* ear- 
 trumpets an' malignant growths '' 
 
 " Malignant growths ? '' 
 
 '^ Iss, sir — in sperrits c' wine. But what tuk th* 
 ould mane's notice were a trayful o' glass eyes put out 
 for sale i^ the windey, an^ iookin^ so natural as life — blue 
 eyes, brown eyes, eyes as black as a sloan,* an^ others, 
 they told me, as went different colours ^cordin' as you 
 looked at mun. Anyway, ould Mennear pulled up short 
 an^ clinched Deborah by the elbow. 
 
 ^' ' Like onto the fishpools in Heshbon ! ' says he ; an' 
 wi^ that he bounces into the shop. 
 
 '' ' How much for them eyes ? ' he axes. 
 
 " ^ Do ■'ee want the lot ? ' says the chap in the shop, 
 a regular little dandy-sprat, an^ so pert as a jay-pie in 
 June. ^ ^Cos us makes a reducshun on takin' a quantity,' 
 says he. 
 
 ^' ^ Wan '11 do for me,' says Lawyer Mennear. 
 
 " ^ They be two pund-ten apiece,' says the whipper- 
 snapper, ' an' ten shilUn' for fixin'.' 
 
 " Well, sir, you may fancy th' ould man's face when 
 he heerd the price. He sot down, like as ef the wind 
 was tuk out o' hes sails, an' says he — 
 
 ^' a'll gie thirty shillin'.' 
 
 " The shopman wudn' ha' this ; so at et they went, 
 higglin' an' hagglin' ontil 'twas agreed at las' he shud 
 *Sloe. 
 
THE lawyer's eye. 119 
 
 ha' the eye for two pund-five, fixings included. Twas 
 like drawin' blood from a stone ; but tV ould man had 
 done a stroke of business that day, so in th' end he pulls 
 out hes bag an' tells out the money 'pon the counter. 
 
 '^ ' An' now/ says the whipper-snapper, ^ which '11 
 'ee ha' ? Grey's the colour, I reckons, ef you wants a 
 match.' 
 
 '^ ^ Drat the colour ! ' says ould Mennear, ' I've a-paid 
 my price, an' I'll ha' the biggest, ef et be bassomy- 
 red.'* 
 
 ^' Well, the shopman laffs, o' cou'se, but lets 'n 
 ha' hes own way; an' th' ould man picked out the 
 biggest — bright blue et was, suthin' the colour of a 
 hedgy-sparrer's egg, an' shiny-clear like a glass-alley. 
 They was a brave long while gettin' et fixed, 'cos 'twas 
 so big. Ef he'd a-been content an* took a smaller wan, 
 he'd ha' done better : but he was bound to be over- 
 reachin', was th' ould varmint, an' so he comed to grief, 
 as you shall hear. There's many folks i' this world be 
 knowin' as Kate Mullet." 
 
 " I never heard of that lady," said Mr. Fogo. 
 
 '^ There's not much to know, sir, 'cept that they say 
 her was hanged for a fool. Hows'ever, to shorten the 
 yarn, ould Mennear got hes eye fixed at las', an' went 
 home wi' Aunt Deb'rah so pleased as Punch. 
 
 "Nex' Sunday 'twas Hamlet's Ghost 'mong the 
 ^R-ig'nal Seceders, an' no mistake ! Some o* the female 
 members fell to screamin' so soon as iver they clapped 
 * Heather-coloured. 
 
120 TROY TOWN. 
 
 eyes on tli' ould man^ an' Sister Trudgeon was tuk wi* 
 a fit^ an' had to be carr'd out wi' two deacons to her 
 head an' two to her heels, an' kickin' so that Deacon 
 Hoskins cudn' master hes vittles for up a fortni't, he 
 was that hurted internally. An' the wust was, that 
 what wi' the rumpus an' her singin' out ' Pillaloo ! ' an' 
 how the devil was amongst mun, havin' great wrath, 
 the Lawyer's sarmon about a 'wecked an' 'dulterous 
 generation seekin' arter a sign ' was clean sp'iled. Arter 
 the sarvice, too, there was a deal o' discussin'. Some 
 said 'twas senful to interfere wi' Natur' i' that way, 
 an' wrong in a purfessin' Christian like Mennear; an' 
 all agreed the new eye gave 'n a janjansy"^ kind o' look, 
 ^as ef,' said Deacon Hoskins, ^he was blinchin'f fifty 
 ways for Grace.' There was some talk, too, about axin' 
 th' ould man to resign; but nuthin' came o't. An' 
 arter a time, when the congregashun got a bit reconciled, 
 folks began to allow the new eye improved Mennear's 
 pulpit manner, an' guessed that, arter all, et mou't be a 
 powerful engine for effectual salvashun. Et had a dead 
 appearance, ef you understands me, sir, an' yet a sort o' 
 gashly wakefulness, like a thing onhuman, 'cos o' cou'se 
 et niver winked ; th' ould man cudn' ha' winked, not 
 for a fi'-pund note, for the thing was that big et strained 
 hes eyelid like a drum. 'Sides which, et had a way o* 
 keepin' order 'mong the worshippers that you cudn' be- 
 lieve onless you seed it ; for, let alone the colour o't, you 
 niver knawed whether 'twas fixed on you or ten pews 
 * Two-faced. Qy. from Janus P f Prying, looking about. 
 
THE LAWYER 18 "JANJAITSY.'' 121 
 
 off, but somehow felt dead-sure 'twas you all the time, 
 an' cudn' ha' moved, not ef you had a blue-tailed fly 
 inside the back o' your collar. 
 
 "Well, sir, nat'rally the Meetin' House began to 
 fill agen, at fust out o' curiosity, but by-'m-by the list 
 of Admitted Members began to fill up. Folk cudn' hold 
 out when th' ould Lawyer ramped on 'bout t' other 
 world an' there was that eye fixin' mun an' lookin' 
 as though et had heen there. I needn' tell 'ee th' ould 
 man wore et ivery Sunday : 'deed, he wore et most 
 days, but tuk et out o' nights, I've heerd, for 'twudn' 
 shut when he slep', but used to scare ould Deb'rah Men- 
 near fairly out o' her sken o' moonshiny nights, when 
 the light corned in 'pon et. An' even when her got 'n 
 to lave et off, her used allays to put a tay-cup 'pon top 
 o't afore closin' an eye. 
 
 "So et went on, sir, till wan Sunday mornin', when 
 the Lawyer was fairly warmin' to hes work over the 
 weckedness o' backsliders an' the wrath to come, he 
 whacks the cush'n more'n ord'nary vi'lent, an' I reckon 
 that made the eye work loose. Anyway, out et drops, 
 and clatters down along the floor o' the Meetin' House. 
 
 " Now Deacon Hoskins i' them days had charge o' 
 the Sunday-school boys. He was a short-sighted man, 
 the Deacon, tho' that were hes misf ortun' ; but he had 
 faults as well, an' wan o' these was a powerful knack o' 
 drappin' off to sleep durin' sarmon-time. Hows'ever, he 
 managed very tidily, for he knawed he was bound to 
 wake hissel' so soon as he began to snore^ an' then he'd 
 
122 TROY TOWN. 
 
 start up sudden an* fetch the nighest boy a lousin* 
 whistcuff 'pon the side o' the head to cover the noise 
 he'd made, an' cry out, ' I've a- caught 'ee agen, ha' I ? 
 Fil taehe 'ee to interrup' the word o' Grace wi' your 
 gammut"'*' an' may-games ! ' — an' he'd look round like 
 as ef he'd say, ' Sorry to interrup', brethren, but des- 
 ceplin' es desceplin' ! ' Many's the time I've a-seed 'n 
 do this, an' you may take my word, sir, 'twas so good 
 as a play ! 
 
 "Now this morning Deacon Hoskins was takin' 
 forty winks as ushul, when the clatter made by th' ould 
 Mennear's eye makes 'n set up, wide-awake an' starin'. 
 This time, jedgin' by the noise, he tuk a consait that 
 the boys had been a-playin' marbles sure 'nuff ; so he 
 takes two at haphazard, knacks their heads togither, an' 
 then looks about. Fust thing he sees es th' eye lying 
 out 'pon the aisle an' lookin' for all the world like a 
 big shiny glass-alley. 
 
 '' I told 'ee, sir, the Deacon were short o' sight. He 
 hadn' a doubt by this time the boys had been foolin' 
 about wi' marbles, so he reaches out, grabs the eye, an' 
 slips et into hes trowsy-pocket ; an' then he takes a 
 glance round, so much as to say, ' I reckon the owner 
 o' this 'ere glass-alley '11 ha' to wait afore he sees 'n 
 agen.' 
 
 " In cou'se, the rest o' the brethren knawed what 
 had happened, an' wan or two fell to titterin' a bit; 
 but altogether there was a kind o' breathlessness for a 
 . * Nonsense. 
 
DEACON HOSKINS DISGRACES HIMSELF. 123 
 
 moment or so, an^ then th' ould Mennear sings out 
 from the pulpit — 
 
 '' ' Brother Hoskins, Fll trouble you to kindly pass 
 up that eye/ 
 
 " Deacon Hoskins stared a bit, but was too short 
 o' sight to see what the matter was. 
 
 ^'^Eh?' says he. 
 
 '' ' Hand up that eye, ef you plaise.' 
 
 '' ' What eye ? ' says the Deacon. 
 
 '^Th^ ould Mennear stamped and seemed fit to 
 swear. 
 
 " ^ Why, my eye, you nation bufflehead ! ' The 
 Lawyer didn' mind much what he said when hes back 
 was up ; an' arter all 'twere, in a kind o' way, 'scuse- 
 able. 
 
 '' ^ Look 'ere,' answers back the Deacon, ' ef you've 
 drapped your eye, an' be that fond o' the cheap-jack 
 thing that you can't get on wi'out et, send round 
 Deacon Spettigue to hunt, an' net a man as can't see 
 sax inches afore hes nose. Et's out o' reas'n,' he said, 
 ' an' you oft to know better.' 
 
 '' In cou'se, tho', when he found out hes mistake an' 
 lugged the thing out o' hes pocket, there was Bedlam let 
 loose, for up five minnits, ivery mother's son chitterin' 
 an' laffin, an' the Deacon lookin' like a pig in a fit. He 
 desarted the Seceders that very week, an' niver darken'd 
 the Meetin' House door agen to the day o' hes death. 
 
 '^ Well, the fuss got calmed over, but somehow the 
 Lawyer cudn' niver trust hes eye as he used to. He 
 
124 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Baid 'twarn't fully dependable ; an', sure 'nuff, within 
 a month et slipped out agen, and th' ould man was 
 forced to go to Plymouth an' buy anuther, a bit 
 smaller. So he lost by hes mean ways arter all. He 
 tried to trade back th' ould eye, but the shopman wudn' ; 
 so he brought et home in hes pocket, and laid et by in 
 the chaney-cupboard, ^long wi' the cloam/ an^ there et 
 bided. 
 
 '' An' now, sir, Tm a-comin' to the most curiosest 
 part o' my yarn : an' you can believe or no, as you 
 thinks fit, but I'll tell 'ee jest what 1 knows an' no 
 more. 
 
 "Some two year arter. Lawyer Mennear tuk a 
 corner out o' the twenty-acred field — a little patch to 
 the right o' the gate as you went in — an' planted et wi' 
 gi-een peas. Six rows he planted, an' beautiful peas, too, 
 on'y the, birds wudn' let mun ha' a chance. Well, at 
 las' th' ould man got mad, an' stuck me 'pon top o' the 
 hedge wi' a clapper to scare the birds away ; 'sides which, 
 to makesure, he rigged up a scarecrow. 'Twas a lovely 
 scarecrow : two cross-sticks an' the varmer's own coat — 
 'twas the coat he'd a-got married in forty year afore. 
 He gied et to me when the scarecrow had done wi' 
 et, an' the tails were so long as an Act o' Parlyment. 
 'Top o' this was a whackin' big turmut by way o' face, 
 wi' a red scarf round the neck — from Aunt Deb'rah's 
 petticoat — an wan o' th 'ould man's left-off wigs 'pon 
 
 * Crockery. Drinking in Troy is euphemistically called 
 " eraptyin' cloam." 
 
THE SCARECROW, 125 
 
 the crown^ an' a high-poll hat_, a bit rusted wi' Sunday 
 obsarvance, to finish. Did I say ^ to finish ■* ? ^^ 
 
 " You did/^ answered Mr. Fogo. 
 
 '^Well^ then^ I said wrong. 'Cos jest when Vd 
 a-rigged ''n up, down comes Aunt Deborah an' cries out, 
 ' Aw, Caleb, here be suthin' more ! Do 'ee fix et in, 
 that's a dear ; an' ef et don't scare away any bird as iver 
 flied, then/ says she, 'I'm wuss nor any bird;' an' 
 wi' that she opens her hand an' gies me the Lawyer's 
 cast-off eye. 
 
 '^ So I outs wi' my pocket-knife an' digs a hole in the 
 turmat face, an' inside o' ten minnits there was the 
 scarecrow finished off. Aw, sir, 'twas a beautiful scare- 
 crow ; an' when us stuck et up, I tell 'ee that from the 
 kitchen windeys, three hunderd yards away, et seemed 
 like life itsel'. 
 
 " Well, sir, fust day 'twas stuck there, I sot beside 
 the hedge, round the corner, watchin', and while I sot 
 two queerish things happen'd — tho' the fust warn't 
 so queer nuther, but jest human natur', when you 
 comes to consider et. 'Twas this. I hadn' been there 
 an hour afore two score an' dree wimmen — I knows, 'cos 
 I kep' count — came, wan arter anuther, down to the 
 gate to make sheep's eyes at that scarecrow, havin' heerd 
 as there was a well-dressed lad down 'mong the peas. 
 An' that's true, ef I swears et 'pon the Book." 
 
 " Ah ! " was Mr. Fogo's only comment. 
 
 " Iss, sir ; an' well you may say so. But the nex' 
 thing I noticed was a sight queerer. In fac' I dunno 
 
126 TROY TOWN. 
 
 but et's the queerest go I iver heerd tell 'bout. But you 
 may jedge for yourseP. 
 
 ^'Vd been a-settin' there for the best part o' two 
 hour, an' keepin' count o' how wan bird arter another 
 corned up for they peas, an' turned tail at sight o' the 
 scarecrow. For et didn' seem like no ordinary scarecrow, 
 sir, wi' that eye a-glintin' i' the sunshine. I cou'd see 't 
 from where I sot — an' so the birds thought. Well, wan 
 arter another, they steps up an' flies off as ef hurried for 
 time, when by-'m-by 'long comes an ould rook. 
 
 ^' He jest sa'ntered up quite leisurable, did this rook, 
 an' lit 'pon a pea-stick to take a blinch round. Nat'rally 
 he cotches sight o' the scarecrow, an' nat'rally I looked 
 for 'n to turn tail, like the rest. But no, sir. 
 
 '^ Where he was, the scarecrow's back was t' wards 
 'un, an' th' ould bird jest looks et up an' down, an' this 
 way an' that, an' cocks his head 'pon wan side, an' looks 
 agen an' chuckles, for all the world as ef to say, * Et 
 looks like a man, an' 'tis fixed like a man ; but dash my 
 wig ! ef 'tain't a scarecrow an' no more, I ain't fit to live 
 in an age o' imitashuns.' 
 
 '^ Well, he jest sot an' sot, an' arter a while he be- 
 gan for to taste the flavour o' the joke, an' then he lay 
 back an' laffed, did that bird, till he was fit to sweat. 
 I reckoned I'd a-heerd birds laff afore this, but I made 
 an error. My 'ivens, sir ! but he jest clinched on to 
 that pea-stick, an' shook the enj'yment out of hissel' 
 like a conjuror shellin' cannouvballs fi'om a hat. An' 
 then he'd stop a bit, an' then fall to hootin' agen, 
 
THE SCOFFER DISCOMFITED. 127 
 
 till I was forced to laff too, way back behind the hedge, 
 for cumpanny. An' ivery time he noted a fresh bit o^ 
 likelihood in the scarecrow, he''d go off in a fresh fit. I 
 thought he'd niver ha' done. 
 
 " But in a while he hushed, an' waited a bit to calm 
 hes nerves, an' stepped down off the pea-stick. Thinks 
 I, ' What es he up to now ? ' An' I stood up to see, but 
 quiet-like, so's I shudn' scare *n. 
 
 " I hadn' long to wait. He Jest steps up behind the 
 scarecrow, makes a leg, so grave as you plaise, an' com- 
 mences for to dance round 'un — fust 'pon wan leg, then 
 *pon t'other — like as ef 'twas a haythen dancin' round 
 a graven image. But the flauntin' ins'lence o't, sir ! 
 The brazen, fleerin' abusefulness ! Not a feather, ef 
 you'll believe me, but fairly leaked wi' ribaldry — ^jest 
 leaJced. 
 
 ^^ Th' ould bird had got ha'f-way round, a-mincin' 
 an' japin*, an* throwin' out bes legs this way an' that, 
 an' gettin' more boldacious an' ondacent wi' ivery step, 
 when he cocks hes head askew for a second, jest to see 
 how the pore image was a-takin' o''t, an' that moment 
 he catches the scarecrow's eye. 
 
 " Aw, sir, to see the change as comed over that bird ! 
 The forthiness"^ went out o'n for all the world like 
 wind out *n a pricked bladder ; an' I reckon nex' minnit 
 there warn't no meaner, sicklier-lookin' critter atween 
 this an' Johnny Groats' than that ould rook. There was 
 a kind o' shever ran through 'n, an' hes feathers went 
 * Boldness, forwardness. 
 
128 TROT TOWN. 
 
 ruffly-like, an' hes legs bowed in, an' he jes' lay flat to 
 groun' and goggled an' glazed up at that eye Uke a 
 dyin' duck in a thunderstorm. 'Twas a rich sight, sir ; 
 an' how I contrived not to bust mysel' wi' laffin', es more'n 
 I can tell 'ee to this day. 
 
 ^^ So he lay for up ten minnits, an' then he staggered 
 up *pon hes feet an' sneaked out o' them peas like a 
 chuck-sheep dog, an' the repent'nce a-tricklin' out 'n ivery 
 pore. He passed me by that close I cou'd ha' knacked 
 'n over wi' a stick, but he didn' see me more'n ef I'd a- 
 been a pisky-man.* All hes notiss, I reckon, were for 
 that gashly eye ; an' he looked back ivery now and agen, 
 like as ef he'd say, ^ I be but worms ; an', wuss nor 
 that, I've a-been a scoffin*, lyin', Sabbath-breakin' ould 
 worms j but do 'ee let me off this wance, an' I'll strive 
 an' wrastle,"* he seemed to say, ' an' do purty well all a 
 rook can to be gathered to the fold.' An' wi' that he 
 slinks over th' hedge an' out o' sight. 
 
 "Well, sir, I didn' see'n agen nex' day, nor for 
 many days arter ; but on Sunday-week, as et mou't be, 
 i' the mornin' I'd a-took French lave an' absented 
 mysel' from Meetin' House, an' were quietly smokin' 
 my pipe up in the town-place,t when I hears a chitterin* 
 an' a chatterin' like as 'twere a little way off ; an' lookin* 
 down t'wards the twenty-acred field, I seed 'twere black 
 wi' rooks — fairly black, sir — black as the top o' your 
 hat. Thinks I, ' I reckon here's some new caper,' an' I 
 loafes down to see the fim. 
 
 *A fairy. t Farm-yard. 
 
REPENTANCE. 129 
 
 '^ I stales down the lane, an' looks over tlie gate, an' 
 when I takes in, at las', what 'tes all about, my ! — you 
 mou't ha' knacked me down wi' a feather ! 'Twas a 
 prayer-meetin' them rooks was a-holdin', sir, as I'm a 
 senner. The peas was fairly hid wi' the crowd, an' 
 'twas that thick I counted sax 'pon wan pea-stick. An' 
 in the middle, jes' onder the scarecrow, stood up th' 
 ould rook Fd a-seen afore, an' told hes experiences. He 
 ramped, an' raved, an' mopped, an' mowed, an' kep' a- 
 noddin' his head t' wards the scarecrow, to show how hes 
 salvashun was worked ; an' all the time the rest o' the 
 rooks sat still as mice. On'y when he pulls up to 
 breathe a bit, they lets out an' squalls, as ef to say, 
 'Amen. 'Tes workin' — 'tes workin' ! Pray strong, 
 brother ! ' an' at et he'd go agen, same as he must. An' 
 at las', when 'twas ^ hold breath or bust ' wi' 'un, he ups 
 an' starts a hemn, an' they all jines in, till you mou't 
 hear the caprouse"^ two mile off. That were the 
 finish, too; for arter the row died away, there was a 
 minnit or so o' silent prayer, an' then the whole gang 
 gets up off they pea-sticks an' sails away for Squire 
 Tresawsen's rookery, t'other side o' the hill. 
 
 '' Well, in cou'se I tells the tale, an' was called a 
 liard for my pains. But the same thing happen'd nex' 
 Sunday, an' the Sunday arter — an' not a pea stolen all 
 the time — an' a good few people comed down behind the 
 hedge to see, an' owned up as I were right. Et got to 
 be the talk o' the country ; an' how 'twud ha' ended; 
 
 * Noise, tumuit. 
 J 
 
130 TROY TOWN. 
 
 goodness on'y knaws, e£ I hadn' a-sp'iled the sport 
 myser. An' how I did so, you shall hear. 
 
 " Wan day I tuk a consait as ^twud be a game to 
 take away the scarecrow's eye an' see what happen'd. 
 So, late 'pon a Sat'rday night, down I goes an' digs 
 out the eye wi' my jack-knife, an' lays et careful down 
 'pon the ground beside et, an' so off to bed. 
 
 " Nex' mornin' I were down waitin' some time afore 
 the rooks was due, an' by-'m-by, about 'leven i' the 
 forenoon, 'long they comes by the score, an' takes the 
 sittin's 'pon the pea-sticks. They was barely settled, 
 when out steps my ould rook an' walks up to the scare- 
 crow to lead off same as ushul. 
 
 " He gives a shake o' the head to set hes jawin'-tacks 
 loose, casts a glance up'ards t'wards the eye, jes' to fetch 
 inspirashun, an' starts back like as ef shot. You cou'd 
 see the 'stonishment clinch 'n, an' the look o' righteous- 
 ness melted off hes face like snow in an oven. For that 
 bird had gifts y sir; an' wan o' these was a power o' 
 fashul expresshun. Well, back he starts, an', with the 
 same, cotches sight o' the eye lyin' 'pon the ground an' 
 starin' up all heav'nly-blue an' smilin'. 
 
 '' There was a pause arter this, jes' about so long as 
 you cou'd count twenty ; an' the rest o' the congrega- 
 shun began to fidget an' whisper round that suthin' 
 was up, when all 'pon a sudden my ould rook straightens 
 hissel' up an' begins to cuss and to swear. What's that 
 you say, sir ? Rooks don't swear ? Don't tell me, 
 Biasphemin' ? Why, in two minrdts the air was stiff 
 
DISILLUSIONED. 131 
 
 wi' blasphemy — you might ha' cut et wi' a knife. An' 
 oaths ? Why, you eou'd feel the oaths. An' there he 
 sot an' cussed, an' cussed an' sot, an' let the hatefulness 
 run out like watter from a pump. 
 
 "In cou'se, 'twarn't long afore the rest gather'd round 
 to larn what the mess was, an' then there was Chevy- 
 chace. They handed round th^ eye, an' looked at et this 
 way an' that, an' 'splained what had happen'd wan to 
 t'other ; an' then they hushed an' stood quiet while their 
 desayved brother cussed hisseF out. Not a smile 
 'mongst the lot, sir; not a wink, as I be a truthful 
 man. 
 
 '^ At las* he'd a-done, an' not too soon for hes lungs ; 
 an' then the lot sat down an' conseddered et out, an' 
 still not a word for minnits togither. But all to wanst 
 up starts a youngish-lookin' rook, an' makes a speech. 
 
 ^''Twarn't a long speech, sir, an' nat'rally I didn't 
 understand a word : but I cotched hes drift in a minnit, 
 tho'. For they rooks started up, walked back to their 
 seats, an' what do 'ee think they did ? ^■' 
 
 " I couldn't pretend to guess,^^ said Mr. Togo. 
 
 " They jes' started that sarvice agen, sir, an' paradised 
 et from start to finish. They mixed up low jests with 
 the prayers, an' flung in fancy yarns wi' their experi- 
 ences, an' made a mock at th' exhortashun; an' what 
 they sung in place o^ the hemn, I don't knaw ; but I do 
 knaw this much — et warn't fit for a woman to list'n to. 
 
 " Well, I laffed — I was forced to laff — but arter a 
 while et grew a bit too strong, an' I runned up to th* 
 
132 TROY TOWN. 
 
 house to fetch down a few folks to look. I warn't away 
 'bove ten minnits ; but when I corned back, there warn't 
 no rook to be seen, nor no eye nuther. TheyM a-carr'd 
 et off to Squire Tresawsen's rookery, an' et's niver been 
 seen fro' that day to this." 
 
 ■X- -Jf -x- » * * 
 
 There was silence for a few moments as Caleb 
 finished his story and lit another pipe. Finally Mr. 
 Togo roused him to ask — 
 
 " What became of your master, Caleb ? " 
 
 " Dead, sir — dead,^' answered Caleb, staring into the 
 embers of the fire. ^^ He lived to a powerful age, tho', 
 albeit a bit totelin'"*^ in hes latter days. But for all that 
 he mou't ha' been like Tantra-bobus—lived till he died, 
 or at least been a centurion *^ 
 
 "A what?'' 
 
 *' Centurion, sir \ otherwise a hundred years old. 
 But he went round land t at las', an' was f oun' dead in 
 hes bed — o' heart-break, they did say, 'long o' his gran'- 
 darter Joanna runnin' away wi' an army cap'n." 
 
 " Ah !" said Mr. Togo pensively, '^ she was a woman, 
 was she not ? " 
 
 " To be sure, sir ; what elst ? — a female woman, an* 
 so baptised." 
 
 There was a moment's silence j then Caleb re- 
 sumed — 
 
 '^But contrari-wise, sir, the army cap'n was a 
 man.'' 
 
 * Demented, imbecile. t Died. 
 
''it was a woman." 183 
 
 '' Ah ! yes_, of course ; let us be just — the army 
 captain was a man. Caleb/' said Mr. Fogo, with a 
 sudden change from his pensive manner, " has it ever 
 occurred to you to guess why I — not yet an old man, 
 Caleb — am living in this solitude ? '' 
 
 '' Beggin' your pard'n, sir, an' makin' so free as to 
 guess, but were it a woman by any chance ? " 
 
 '' Yes,'' said his master, rising hurriedly and light- 
 ing his candle, ^'it was a woman, Caleb — it was a 
 woman. You won't forget that Notice to-morrow morn- 
 ing, will you ? — the first thing, if you please, Caleb." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OF deterioration; and a wheelbarrow that con- 
 tained UNEXPECTED THINGS. 
 
 Great events meanwhile were happening in Troy. On 
 the eighth morning of his ecHpse Admiral Buzza was 
 startled by a brisk step upon the stairs ; the deviFs 
 tattoo was neatly struck upon his bed-room door^ and 
 the head of Mr. Groodwyn-Sandys looked in. 
 
 '' Ah ! Admiral^ here you are ; like What's-his-name 
 in the ruins of Thingummy. You^ll pardon my coming 
 up, but my wife is downstairs with Mrs. Buzza, and I 
 was told I should find you here. Don^t rise — ' no dress/ 
 as they say. May I smoke ? Thanks. And how are 
 you by this time ? I heard something of your mishap, 
 but not the rights of it. Pll sit down, and you can tell 
 me all about it.^' 
 
 Here was affability indeed. The Admiral conquered 
 his first impulse of diving beneath the bed-clothes, and, 
 lying back, recounted his misadventure at some length. 
 The Honoumble Frederic listened and smoked with per- 
 fect gravity. At the close he said — 
 
 " Very dirty treatment, ^pon my word ; though I'm 
 not sure I don^t sympathise with the fellow in warning 
 off the women. But why stay in bed ? '' 
 
 " There are feelings,'^ — began the Admiral. 
 
TREASON. 135 
 
 '* Ah ! to be sure — injured feelings — ungrateful 
 country — blow, blow, thou winter wind, &c. So you 
 take to bed, like the Roman gentleman who went to 
 —forget the place. Gets rid of the women, too; 
 nuisance — women — when you^re upset ; nonsense, that 
 about pain and anguish playing the deuce, and a minis- 
 tering angel thou — tommy-rot, I call it. Can't be 
 bothered, now, in bed — turn round and snore ; wife has 
 hysterics — snore louder. Capital ! IVe a mind to try 
 the same plan when Geraldine is fussing and fuming. 
 These infernal women " 
 
 I am sorry to say that the Admiral, instead of de- 
 fending Mrs. Buzza, began to exculpate Mrs. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys. 
 
 '^ But your wife is so charming, so -" 
 
 '' Of course, my dear sir ; so is Mrs. Buzza. '' 
 
 " She was termed the ' Belle of Portsmouth * at the 
 Ball where I proposed to her,'' remarked the Admiral 
 with some complacency. 
 
 "To be sure ; trust a sailor to catch the pretty girls 
 —eh ? " 
 
 The Admiral chuckled feebly. 
 
 ^' But these women " 
 
 '' Ah ! yes ; these women " 
 
 " Bachelor life was pleasant— eh, Admiral ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 The two men looked at each other. A smile spread 
 over either countenance. I regret to say the Admiral 
 winked, and then chuckled again. 
 
136 TROY TOWN. 
 
 " Admiral, you must get up." 
 
 The Admiral stared interrogatively ; his visitor 
 pursued, with some inconsequence — " By the way, is 
 there a Club here?" 
 
 " There's the ' Jolly Trojans ' down at the ' Man-o'- 
 War ; ' they meet on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and — — "*' 
 
 '^ Low lot, I suppose ? " 
 
 'MVell, yes," admitted the Admiral; *^a certain 
 amount of good-fellowship prevails, I understand ; but 
 low, of course — distinctly low." 
 
 The Honourable Frederic tapped his boot reflectively 
 with his malacca. 
 
 " Admiral," he said at last, '' you ought to found a 
 Club here." 
 
 '' Bless my heart ! I never thought of it." 
 
 ^' It is your duty.'' 
 
 " You think so ? " 
 
 '' Sure of it." 
 
 '^ I will get up,*' said the Admiral decisively. He 
 started out of bed, and looked around for his 
 clothes. 
 
 ^^ Nice place, the country," pursued the Honourable 
 Frederic thoughtfully ; '' fresh eggs, and grass to clean 
 your pipe with — but apt to be dull. Now, a pleasant 
 little society ; cards, billiards, and social reunions — 
 select, of course " 
 
 -^ Of course. Do you happen to be sitting on my 
 trousers ? " 
 
 *'Eh? No, I believe — no. Let me see — limited 
 
COUNTER-TREASON. 1 37 
 
 loo and a. modest pool of an evening. Hullo ! what's 
 the matter ? ^' 
 
 The Admiral had rushed to the door. 
 
 ^' Emily ! " he bawled down the stairs. 
 
 " Well, Pll be going. Can't find your trousers ? 
 Admiral, it's the last straw. But we'll be revenged. 
 Admiral. We'll found a Club ; and, by George, sir, 
 we'll call it ' The Inexpressibles ' ! Ta-ta for the 
 present," and Mr. Good wyn- Sandys retired. 
 
 But what was being discussed below when the 
 Admiral's voice disturbed his wife ? Alas ! you shall 
 hear. 
 
 ''These men," Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys was saying, 
 '' are all alike. But, my dear, why not disregard his 
 absurd humours ? I have revolted from Frederic long 
 ago." 
 
 '' You don't say so ! " 
 
 "It is a fact. Take my advice and do the same. 
 It needs courage at first, but they are all cowards — oh, 
 such cowards, my dear ! Revolt. Cry ' Havoc ! ' and 
 let slip " 
 
 " My dear, I should faint." 
 
 " Oh, poor soul ! Beflect ! How pretty the do- 
 mestic virtues are, but how impossible ! Besides, how 
 unfashionable 1 " 
 
 Mrs. Buzza reflected. 
 
 " I will ! " she exclaimed at last. Just then her 
 husband's voice detonated in the room above. She 
 arose^ trembling like a leaf. 
 
138 TROY TOWN. 
 
 " Be firm/' said her adviser. 
 
 ^awiU.^' 
 
 '^ Sit down again. It will do him no harm to 
 wait/' 
 
 Mrs. Buzza obeyed, still trembling. 
 
 It was at this moment that the Honourable Frederic 
 re-entered the room, and looked around with a slow 
 smile. 
 
 '^ Nellie/' he observed, when they were outside the 
 house, ^' you're a vastly clever woman, my love.'' 
 
 " How's the Admiral ? " was the reply. 
 
 ''He nibbles, my angel; he bites." 
 
 '' I heard liim barkin'. An' how long will Brady be 
 givin' us ? " 
 
 '' Two months, my treasure." 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn- Sandys reflected for a moment, and 
 then made the following extraordinary reply — 
 
 '' Be aisy, me dear. In six weeks I'll be ready to 
 elope from yez." 
 
 What passed between the Admiral and Mrs. Buzza 
 when they were left together was never fully known. 
 But it was quickly whispered that in No. %, Alma 
 Villas, the worm had turned. Oddly enough, the 
 spread of conjugal estrangement did not end here. It 
 began to be rumoured that Lawyer Pellovv^ and his wife 
 had ^' differences ; " that Mr. and Mrs. Simpson dined at 
 different hours ; and that the elder Miss Stripp had 
 broken off a very suitable match with a young ship's- 
 
SPREAD OF GENTILITY. 139 
 
 chandler, on the ground that ship^s candles were not 
 " genteel." It was about this time, too, that Mrs. Wap- 
 Bhot, at the confectionery shop, refused to walk with Mr. 
 Wapshot on the Rope- walk after Sunday evening service, 
 because domestic bliss was " horrid vulgar ; '' and Mrs. 
 Goodwyn-Sandy's dictum that '* one admirer, at least, 
 was no more than a married woman's due/^ only failed 
 of acceptance because the supply of admirers in Troy 
 fell short of the demand. She had herself annexed 
 Samuel Buzza and Mr. Moggridge. 
 
 Meanwhile the Admiral was not idle; and had any- 
 thing been needed to whet his desire for a Club, it would 
 have been found in a dreadful event that happened 
 shortly afterwards. 
 
 It was May-moming, and the Admiral was planted 
 in the sunshine outside No. %, Alma Villas, loudly dis- 
 cussing the question of the hour with Mr. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys, Lawyer Pellow, and the little Doctor. 
 
 "No, we can't have him," he was roundly de- 
 claring ; "the Club must be select, or it is useless to 
 discuss it further." 
 
 "Must draw the line somewhere," murmured the 
 Honourable Frederic. 
 
 "Quite so; at this rate we shall be admitting all 
 the • Jolly Trojans.' " 
 
 Just then an enormous wheelbarrow was observed 
 approaching, seemingly by supernatural means, for 
 no driver could be seen. The barrow was piled to a 
 
HO THOY TOWN. 
 
 great height, and staggered drunkenly from side to side 
 of the road ; but the load, whatever it was, lay hidden 
 beneath a large white cloth. 
 
 '' H'm ! " said the little Doctor dubiously. "Well, 
 of course, you know best, but I should have thought 
 that as an old inhabitant of Troy '* 
 
 " Pooh, my dear fellow," snapped the Admiral, " it 
 is natural that the feelings of a few will be hurt ; but if 
 once we begin to elect the ' Jolly Trojans ' — — " 
 
 The barrow had drawn near meanwhile, and now 
 halted at the Admiral's feet. From behind it stepped 
 into view an exceeding small boy, attired mainly in 
 a gigantic pair of corduroys that reached to the armpits, 
 and were secured with string around the shoulders. His 
 face was a mask of woe, and he staunched his tears on a 
 very grimy shirt-sleeve as he stood and gazed mutely 
 into the Admiral's face. 
 
 " Go away, boy ! " said Admiral Buzza severely. 
 
 The boy sobbed loudly, but made no sign of moving, 
 
 " Go away, I tell you 1 " 
 
 •^■'Tes for you, sir." 
 
 " For me ? What does the boy mean ? " 
 
 *' Iss, sir. Missusses orders that I was to bring et 
 to Adm'ral Buzza's ; an' ef I don't pay out Billy Higgs 
 for this nex' time I meets wi 'un " 
 
 " The child's daft ! " roared the Admiral. '' D— ^ 
 the boy ! wh.at has Billy Higgs to do with me ? " 
 
 " Poured a teacupful o' water down the nape o' 
 my breeches when I'd . a-got ha'f-way up the hill an* 
 
CAKE. 141 
 
 cudn' set the barrow down to fight 'un — the coward ! 
 Boo — hoo ! " and tears flowed again at the recollec- 
 tion. 
 
 '' What is it ? '' 
 
 " Cake, sir/'" 
 
 " Cake ! " 
 
 ^' Iss, sir — cake/* 
 
 The youth stifled a sob, and removed the white 
 cover from the wheelbarrow. 
 
 '^ Bless my soul ! " gasped the Admiral, " there must 
 be some mistake." 
 
 " It certainly seems to be cake/^ observed the Honour- 
 able Frederic, examining the load through his eye-glass ; 
 " and very good cake, too, by the smell." 
 
 He was right. High on the barrow, and symmet- 
 rically piled, rested five-and-twenty huge cakes — yellow 
 cakes such as all Trojans love — each large as a mill-stone, 
 tinctured with saffron, plentifully stowed with currants, 
 and crisp with brown crust, steaming to heaven, and 
 wooing the nostrils o£ the gods. 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " repeated the Admiral, '' but I 
 never ordered this." 
 
 Each member of the group in turn advanced, in- 
 spected the cake, sniffed the savour, pronounced it 
 excellent, and looked from the Admiral to the boy for 
 explanation. 
 
 "Mrs. Dymond down to the 'Man-o'-War' sent et, 
 sir, wi' her compliments to Maaster Sam, an' hopin' as 
 he'll had et plum i' the bakin' as it leaves her at 
 
142 TROY TOWN. 
 
 present, an' the currants all a-picked careful, knowin' as 
 he'd a sweet tooth." 
 
 '' Sam ! Do you mean to tell me that Sam — that 
 
 my son — ordered this ? Upon my word, of all " 
 
 ''Didn' azackly order et, sir. Won et fair an' 
 square. Bill Odgers comed nex' wi' seven-an'-nmet^ 
 gallon. But Maaster Sam topped the lot by a dozen 
 gallon aisy." 
 
 " Gallons ! What the devil is the boy talking about ? * 
 ^^ Beer, sir — beer ; fust prize for top score o' beei 
 drunk down to the ^ Man-o'-War ' sence fust o* Novem- 
 ber last. He's a wunner for beer, es Maaster Sam/* 
 pursued the relentless urchin, who by this time had for- 
 gotten his tears. " Hunderd an' nine gallons, sir, an' 
 Bill Odgers so jallous as fii-e — ^says he'd ha' won et 
 same as he did last time, on'y INIaaster Sam''s got the 
 longer purse — offered to fight 'un, an' the wuss man to 
 pay for both nex' time." 
 
 Mr. Good wyn- Sandys turned aside to conceal a 
 smile. Lawyer Pellow rubbed his chin. The Admiral 
 stamped. 
 
 '' Take it away ! " 
 
 " Where be I to take et to, plaise, sir ? " 
 " Take it away — anywhere ; take it to the devil ! " 
 But worse remained for the little man. During this 
 conversation there had come unperceived up the road 
 a gentleman of mild appearance, dressed in black, and 
 carrying under his arm a large parcel wrapped about 
 with whitey -brown paper. 
 
OUTRAGEOUS TREATMENT OF THE ADMIRAL. 143 
 
 The new-comer, who was icdeed our friend Mr. 
 Fogo, now advanced towards the Admiral with a bow. 
 
 " Admiral Buzza, I believe ? " 
 
 The Admiral turned; and faced the speaker ; his jaw 
 fell like a signal flag ; but he drew himself up with fine 
 self-repression. 
 
 '' Sir, I am Admiral Buzza." 
 
 " I have come," said Mr. Fogo, quietly pulling ihe 
 pins out of his parcel, " to restore what I believe is your 
 property (Will somebody oblige me by holding this pin ? 
 Thank you), and at the same time 'to apologise for the 
 circumstances under which it came into my hands. 
 (Dear me, what a number of pins, to be sure !) I have 
 done what lay in my power with a clothes'-brush and 
 emery-powder to restore it to its pristine brilliance. 
 The treatment (That is the last, I think) has not, I am 
 bound to admit, answered my expectations; its result, 
 however, is as you see." 
 
 Here Mr. Fogo withdrew the wrapper, and with 
 a pleasant smile held out — a cocked hat. 
 
 The Admiral, purple with fury, bounced back like a 
 shot on a red-hot shovel; stared; tried to speak, but 
 could not ; gulped ; tried again ; and, finally, shaking 
 his fist in Mr. Fogo's face, flung into the house and 
 slammed the front door. 
 
 The cause of this transport turned a pair of bewil- 
 dered spectacles on the others, and found them convulsed 
 with unseemly mirth. He singled out the Honourable 
 Frederic, and addressed himself to that gentleman. 
 
144 TROY TOWN. 
 
 ^^ I have not the pleasure to be acquainted with you, 
 sir ; but i£ you can supply me with any reason for this 
 display of temper, believe me *' 
 
 ^' My name is Goodwyn-Sandys, sir, at your '* 
 
 " What ! '' 
 
 Mr. Eogo dropped the cocked hat and sat down 
 suddenly among the cakes. 
 
 " Are you ? " he gasped — ^' are you Mr. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys — the Honourable Frederic Augustus Hythe, 
 Good ? Heavens ! " 
 
 '' No, sir/' said the Honourable Frederic, who had 
 grown a thought pale, ^' Good^^y?*, sir — Good w}'n- Sandys. 
 What then?'' 
 
 " I never saw your face before,'' murmured Mr. 
 Fogo faintly. 
 
 " That, sir, if a misfortune, is one which you share 
 with a number of your fellow-men. And permit me to 
 tell you, sir," continued Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys, with 
 unaccountable change of mood, '^ that I consider your 
 treatment of my friend Admiral Buzza unworthy of 
 a gentleman, sir — unworthy of a gentleman. Come, 
 Doctor j come, Pellow — I want a word or two more with 
 you about this Club." 
 
 And Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys ruffled away, followed by 
 his two slightly-puzzled companions. 
 
 For the space of two minutes Mr. Fogo gazed up the 
 road after them. Then he sighed, took off his spectacles, 
 and wiped them carefully. 
 
 '' So tkat," he said slowly, ^' is the man she married." 
 
THE '' inexpressibles/* 145 
 
 ''Iss, sir.-'' 
 
 Mr. Fogo started, turned round on the barrow, and 
 beheld the urchin from the '^ Man-o'-War/' 
 
 ^' Little boy/' he said sternly, ^' your conduct is 
 unworthy of a — I mean, what are you doing here ? " 
 
 " You've a-been an' squashed a cake/' said the boy. 
 
 Mr. Fogo gave him a shilling, and hurried away 
 down the road ; but stopped once or twice on his home- 
 ward way to repeat to himself — 
 
 ''So t/iat— is the man — she married." 
 
 It took Admiral Buzza several days to recover his 
 composure; but when he did, the project of the new 
 Club grew with the conjugal disintegration of Troy, and 
 at a rate of progress scarcely inferior. Within a week 
 or two a house was hired in Nelson Row, a brass-plate 
 bearing the words " Trojan Club " affixed to the door, 
 and Admiral Buzza installed in the Presidential 
 Chair. The Presidential Chair occupied the right-hand 
 side of the reading-room window, which overlooked 
 the harbour ; and the Presidential duties consisted 
 mainly in conning the morning papers and discussing 
 their contents with Mr. Good wyn -Sandys, who usually 
 sat, with a glass of whiskey and the Club telescope, on 
 the left-hand side of the window. Indeed, it would be 
 hard to say to which of the two, the whiskey or the 
 telescope, the Honourable Frederic more sedulously 
 devoted himself : it is certain, at least, that under the 
 Admiral's instruction he soon developed a most amazing 
 
146 TROY TOWN. 
 
 familiarity with nautical terms, was a mine of information 
 (almost as soon as the Cluh invested in a Yacht Register) 
 on the subject of Lord Sinkj^ort's yacht, the auxiliary 
 screw NiobCy and swept the horizon with a persistence 
 that made his fellow-members stare. 
 
 But the most noticeable feature in this nautical craze 
 was the disproportionate attention which the Honour- 
 able Frederic lavished on barques. It was the first 
 rig" that he learnt to distinguish, and his early interest 
 developed before long into something like a passion. 
 
 One morning, for instance, Sam Buzza lounged into 
 the reading-room and observed — 
 
 " I say, have you seen that American barque that 
 came in last night — the Maritana ? '* 
 
 " What name ? ^^ asked Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys, look- 
 ing up suddenly. 
 
 " The Maritana, or the Mariana, or Marif Ann, or 
 something of the Hullo ! what's wrong ? ^' 
 
 But the Honourable Frederic had caught up his hat 
 and fled. Half an hour afterwards, when he returned, 
 his usual calm self, the little Doctor took occasion to 
 remark, " Upon my word, you might be a detective, 
 you keep such a look-out on the harbour '' — a re- 
 mark which caused Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys to laugh so 
 consumedly that the Doctor, without exactly seeing 
 the point, began to think he had perpetrated quite a 
 considerable joke. 
 
 But let no one imagine that the disruption of Trojan 
 morals avoided heart-burning or escaped criticism. For 
 
THE NEW GEOMETRY. 147 
 
 the line which Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys declared must be 
 drawn somewhere was found not only to bisect the 
 domestic hearth, but to lead to a surprising- number o£ 
 social problems. It fell across the parallels of our small 
 society, and demonstrated that Mrs. A and Mrs. B could 
 never meet ; that one room could not contain the two 
 unequal families X and Y ; and that while one rested on 
 the basis of trade, and the other on professional skill, it 
 was unreasonable to expect the apex Mrs. Y to coincide 
 with the apex Mrs. X. Finally the New Geometry culmi- 
 nated in a triumphant process, which proved that while 
 Mrs. Simpson was allowed to imbibe tea and scandal 
 in the company of the great, her husband must sip his 
 gin and water in solitude at home. 
 
 We had always been select in Troy ; but then, in the 
 old days, all Troy had been included in the term. When 
 Mr. Simpson had spoken of the " Jack of Oaks '■' (mean- 
 ing the Knave of Clubs), or had said ^- fainaiguing '^ 
 (where others said " revoking ^'), we had pretended not to 
 notice it, until at length we actually did not. So that 
 a human as well as a philological interest attaches to the 
 date when fashion narrowed the meaning of Gnmeelfo to 
 exclude the Jack of Oaks, and sent Mr. Simpson home 
 to his gin and water. 
 
 The change was discussed with some asperity in the 
 bar-parlour of the "Man-o'-War." 
 
 " The hupper classes in Troy es bloomin' fine nowa- 
 days,^' remarked Rechab Geddye (locally known as 
 Rekkub) over his beer on tiie night when the 
 
148 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 resignations of Mr. Buzza Junior and Mr. Moggridge 
 had been received by tlie " Jolly Trojans." 
 
 " E£ they gets the leastest bit finer, us shan't be able 
 to see mun," answered Bill Odgers, who was reckoned a 
 wit. ^^I have heerd tell as Trojans was cousins an' 
 hail-fellow-well-met all the world over; but the hay- 
 leet o' this place es a-gettin' a bit above itsel'.^^ 
 
 " That's a true word, Bill/' interposed Mrs. Dymond 
 from the bar; " an' to say ' Gie us this day our daily 
 bread/ an' then turn up a nose at good saffron cake es 
 fly in' i' the face o' Pruvvidence, an' no less." 
 
 ^' I niver knawed good to come o' titled gentry yet/' 
 said Bill. 
 
 "You doan't say that?" exclaimed Rekkub, vjho 
 was an admirer of Bill's Radical views. 
 
 "I do, tho'. Look at King Richard — him i' the 
 play-actin'. I reckon he was wan o' the hupper ten ef 
 anybody. An' what does he do? Why, throttles a 
 pair o' babbies, puts a gen'l'm'n he'd a gridge agen 
 into a cask o' wine — which were the spoliation o' both — 
 murders 'most ivery wan he claps eyes on, an' then when 
 he've a-got the jumps an' sees the sperrits an' blue fire, 
 goes off an' offers to swap hes whole bloomin' kingdom 
 for a boss — a boss, mind you, he hadn' seen, let alone 
 not bein' in a state o' mind to jedge hoss-flesh. What's 
 true o' kings, I reckon es true o' Hon'rubbles ; they'm 
 all reared up to the same high notions, an' I reckon 
 us'll find et out afore long. I niver seed no good in 
 makin' Troy fash'nubble mysel'." 
 
CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 THE SIGNIFICANCE OP POMEROY's CAT; AND IIOW THE 
 MEN AND WOMEN OF TROY ENSUED AFTER PLEASURE 
 IN BOATS. 
 
 The historian of Troy here feels at liberty to pass over 
 six weeks with but scanty record. During that time 
 the Bankshire rose bloomed over Kit's House, peered in 
 at the windows, and found Mr. Fogo for the most part 
 busied in peaceful carpentry, though with a mysterious 
 trouble in his breast that at times drove him afield 
 on venturous perambulations, or to his boat to work 
 off by rowing his too-meditative fit. From these 
 excursions he would return tired in body but in heart 
 eased, and resume his humdrum life tranquilly enough ; 
 though Caleb was growing uneasy, and felt it necessary, 
 more than once, to retire apart and " have et out,"*' as 
 he put it, with his conscience. 
 
 '' Question es,'' he would repeat, '^ whether I be 
 justyfied in meddlin' wi' the Course o' Natur' — ■'speshully 
 when the Course o' Natur' es sich as I approves. An' 
 s'posin' I hain't, furder question es, whether I be right 
 in receivin' wan pound a week an' a new set o' small- 
 clothes." 
 
150 TKOT TOWN. 
 
 This nice point in casuistry was settled for the time 
 by his waiving claim to the small-clothes, and inserting 
 in his old pair a patch of blue sea-cloth that contrasted 
 extravagantly with the veteran stuff — so extravagantly 
 as to compel Mr. Fogo's attention. 
 
 ''Does it never strike you/^ he asked one day as 
 Caleb was stooping over the wood-pile, ^^ that the repairs 
 in your trousers, Caleb, are a trifle emphatic ? Purpureus, 
 late qui splendeat — h'm, h'm — adsuitur p annus. I 
 mean, in the seat of your " 
 
 ''Conscience, sir,'' said Caleb abruptly. "Some 
 ties a bit o' string round the finger to help the memory. 
 I does et this way.'' 
 
 " Well, well, I should have thought it more apt to 
 assist the memory of others. Still, of course, you know 
 best." 
 
 And Mr. Fogo resumed his work, and thought no 
 more about it ; but Caleb alternated between moods of 
 pensiveness and fussy energy for some days after. 
 
 In Troy, summer was leading on a train of events 
 not to be classed among periodic phenomena. It stands 
 on record, for instance — 
 
 That Loo began to be played at the Club, and the 
 Admiral's weekly accounts to grow less satisfactory than 
 in the days when he and Mrs. Buzza were steadfast 
 opponents at Whist. 
 
 That Mrs. Simpson discovered her great-uncle to 
 have been a baronet on this earth. 
 
 That Mrs. Payne had prefixed '' Ellicome " to her 
 
THE admiral's FICNIC. 151 
 
 surname, and spoke of ''the Ellicome- Paynes, you 
 know/' 
 
 That Mr. Moggridge had been heard to speak o£ Sam 
 Buzza as a '' low fellow/^ 
 
 That Sam had retorted by terming the poet a 
 '' conceited ass/' 
 
 And 
 
 That Admiral Buzza intended a Picnic. 
 
 To measure the importance of this last item, you 
 must know that a Trojan picnic is no ordinary function. 
 To begin with, it is essentially patriotic — devoted, in 
 fact, to the cult of the Troy river, in honour of which 
 it forms a kind of solemn procession. Undeviating 
 tradition has fixed its goal at a sacred rock, haunted of 
 heron and kingfisher, and wrapped around with woodland, 
 beside a creek so tortuous as to simulate a series of en- 
 chanted lakes. Here the self-respecting Trojan, as his 
 boat cleaves the solitude, will ask his fellows earnestly 
 and at regular intervals whether they ever beheld any- 
 thmg more lovely ; and they, in duty bound and abso- 
 lute truthfulness, will answer that they never did. 
 
 It follows that a Trojan picnic depends for its suc- 
 cess to quite a peculiar degree upon the weather. But 
 on the day of the Admiral's merry-making, this was, 
 beyond cavil, kind. Four boats started from the Town 
 Quay ; four boats — alas ! — could by this time contain 
 the cumeelfo of Troy ; for everybody who was anybody 
 had been invited, and nobody (with the exception of the 
 Honourable Frederic, who could not leave his telescope) 
 
152 TBOy TOWN. 
 
 had refused. Sam Buzza did not start with the rest, but 
 was to follow later ; and in his absence Mr. Moggridge 
 paid impressive court to Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys, though 
 uneasily, for Sophia's saddened eyes were upon him. 
 
 Yet everybody seemed in the best of spirits and 
 tempers. The Admiral, after bestowing his wife in 
 another boat, and glaring vindictively at Kit's House, 
 where the figure of Mr. Fogo was visible on the beach, 
 grew exceedingly jocose, and cracked bis most admired 
 jokes, including his famous dialogue with the echo just 
 beyond Kit's House — a performance which Miss Lim- 
 penny declared she had seldom heard him give with 
 such spirit. She herself, spurred to emulation, told 
 her favourite story, which began, ^^ In the Great Exhi- 
 bition of Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-one, when her 
 Majesty — long may she reign ! — partook of a public 
 
 luncheon " and contained a most diverting incident 
 
 about a cherry-pie. And always, at decent intervals, 
 she would exclaim — 
 
 " Did you ever see anything more lovely ? " 
 
 To which the Admiral as religiously would reply — 
 
 '' Really, I never did." 
 
 Indeed the scene was, as Mrs. Goodwyn- Sandys, in 
 another boat, observed, ^^ Like a poet's dream " — a re- 
 mark at which Mr. Moggridge blushed very much. I 
 wish I could linger and describe with amorous precision 
 the bright talk, the glories of the day, each bend and 
 vista of the river which I have loved from childhood ; 
 but amid the stress of events now crowding with epic 
 
POMEROrS CAT. 153 
 
 vehemence on Troy, the Muse must hasten. Fain 
 would she dally over the disembarkation, the feast, the 
 manner in which Admiral Buzza carved the chicken-pie, 
 and his humorous allusion to the merry -thought ; or 
 dwell upon the salad compounded by Mr. Moggridge, 
 the spider that was found in it, and the conundrum 
 composed upon that singular occurrence; or loiter to 
 tell how Miss Lavinia upset the claret-cup over the 
 Vicar's coat-tails, and, in her confusion, said it ^'did 
 not signify,^'' which was very amusing. On this, and 
 more, would she blithely discourse, did not sterner 
 themes invite her. 
 
 It happened that on this particular morning Mr. 
 Fogo had been restless beyond his wont. For a full 
 hour he had wandered on the beach, as Caleb expressed 
 it, '^ Backwards an^ forrards, like Boscas'le Fair.-*^ He 
 had taken up mallet and chisel ; had set them down at 
 the end of half an hour for his paint-box, and ruined a 
 well-meaning sketch of the previous day ; had deserted 
 this in turn for another ramble on the beach, and finally 
 retui'ned, with a helpless look, to Caleb, who sat whist- 
 ling and splicing a rope upon the little quay. 
 
 " Hurried in mind, sir, like Pomeroy's cat,'' sug- 
 gested he sympathetically. 
 
 ''I have no acquaintance with the animal you 
 mention,'' said his master. 
 
 '^ I reckon 'twas she as got killed by care, sir. I 
 niver knawed mysel' but wan animal as got downright 
 put-goin' i' that way, an' that were a hen." 
 
154 TROT TOWN. 
 
 '' A hen ? '' 
 
 ^' Iss, sir. Et happened up to Penhellick, the las' 
 year I stayed 'long wi' Lawyer Mennear. 'Twas a 
 regular fool-body, this hen — a black Minorcy she were ; 
 but no egg iver laid were fuller o' meat than she o' 
 good-f eelin' ; an' prenciple ! sheM enuff prenciple to stock 
 a prayer-meetin'. But high prenciple in a bufflehead's 
 like a fish-bone i' the throat^ — useful, but out o' place. 
 
 "Well, sir, th* ould Mennear wan day bought a 
 baker's dozen o' porc'lain eggs over to Summercourt 
 Fair : beautiful eggs they were, an' you cudn' tell mun 
 from real, 'cept by the weight. The very nex' day, 
 findin' as hes Minorcy were layin' for a brood i' the 
 loft above the cowshed, he takes up the true Qg^ while 
 the old fowl were away an' sets a porc'lain egg in place 
 of et. In cou'se, back comes the hen, an' bein' a daft 
 body, as I told 'ee, an' not used to these 'ere refinements 
 o' civilizashun, niver doubts but 'tes the same as she 
 laid. 'Twarn't long afore hei^d a-laid sax more, an' then 
 her sets to work to hatch mun out. 
 
 " Nat'rally, arter a while the brood was all hatched 
 out, 'ceptin,' o' cou'se, the porc'lain Qgg. The mother 
 didn't take no suspishun but 'twere all right, on'y a bit 
 stubborn. So her sot down for two days more, an' 
 did all a hen cud do to hatch that chick. No good ; 
 'twudn' budge. You niver seed a fowl that hurted in 
 mind; but niver a thought o' givin' in. No, su*. 
 'Twasn' her way. Her jes' cocked her head aslant, tuk 
 a long stare at the cussed thing, an' said, so plain as 
 
THE PORCELAIN EGQ. 155 
 
 looks cud say, ' Well, Tve a-laid this egg, an' I reckon 
 I've a-got to hatch et ; an' e£ et takes me to th' alu- 
 mininm, I'll see et out. ' " 
 
 ^'The millennium/' corrected Mr. Fogo, who was 
 much interested. 
 
 "Not bein' over-eddicated, sir/' said Caleb, with 
 unconscious severity, "that ould hen, I reckon, said 
 ' aluminium.' But niver mind. Her sot, an' sot, an' 
 kept on settin', an' neglected the rest o' they chicks for 
 what seemingly to her was the call o' duty, till wan by 
 wan they all died. 'Twas pitiful, sir ; an' the wust was 
 to see her lay so much store by that egg. Th' ould 
 Mennear was for takin' et away ; but 'twud ha' broke 
 her heart. As 'twas, what wi' anxi'ty an' too little food, 
 her wore to a shadow. I seed her was boun* to die, any- 
 way ; an' wan arternoon, as I was in the cowshed, I 
 heerd a weakly sort o' cluckin' overhead, an' went up to 
 look. 'Twas too late, sir. Th' ould hen was lying 
 along beside th' egg, glazin' at et in a filmy sort o' way, 
 an' breathin' terrable hard. When I eomes, she gi'es a 
 look same as to say, ' I reckon I've a-got to go. I've a- 
 been a mother to that there egg ; an' I'd ha' liked to 
 see't through afore I went. But, seemingly, 'twam't 
 ordained.' An' wi' that there was a kind o' flutter, an' 
 when I turned her over I seed her troubles were done. 
 Tliat fowl, sir, had passed." 
 
 " You tell the story with such sympathy, Caleb, that 
 I appeal to you the more readily for advice. I find it 
 hard to concentrate my attention this morning." 
 
156 
 
 TILOl TOWN. 
 
 " Ef I mou't make free to shake 'ee agen " 
 
 '^ I should prefer any other cure." 
 
 '* Very well, sir. I have heerd, from trippers as 
 comes to Troy, to spend the day an' get drunk in 
 anuther parish for vari'ty's sake, as a pennorth o' say es 
 uncommon refreshin'." 
 
 " A pennyworth of sea ? " 
 
 '' That's so, sir. Twelve in a boat, an' a copper a 
 head to the boatman to row so far as there an' back, which 
 es cheap an' empt'in' at the price, as a chap told me." 
 
 '^ You advise me to take a row ? " 
 
 " Iss, sir ; on'y I reckon you'd best go up the river, 
 ef you'm goin' alone. Though whether you prefers the 
 resk 0* meetin' Adm'ral Buzza to bein' t'^ned topsy- 
 versy outside the harbour-mouth, es a question I leaves 
 to you. 'Tes a matter o' taste, as Mounseer said by the 
 yaller frog." 
 
 Mr. Togo decided to risk an encounter with the 
 Admiral. In a few minutes he was afloat, and briskly 
 rowing in the wake of the picnic-party. 
 
 But black Care, that clambers aboard the sea-going 
 galley, did not disdain a seat in the stern of Mr. Fogo's 
 boat. She sat her down there, and would not budge for 
 all his pulling. Neither could the smile of the clear sky 
 woo her thence, nor the voices of the day ; but as on 
 ship-board she must still be talking to the man at the 
 wheel, and on horseback importunately whispering to 
 the rider from her pillion, so now she besieged the ear 
 of Mr. Fogo, to whom her very sex was hateful. 
 
**geealdine1" 157 
 
 Further and further he rowed in vain attempt to 
 shake off this incubus ; passed at some distance the rock 
 where the picnickers had spread their meal (luckily, the 
 Admiral's back was turned to the river), doubled the 
 next bend, ran his boat ashore on a little patch of shingle 
 overarched with trees, and, stepping out, sat down to 
 smoke a pipe. 
 
 Secure from observation, he could hear the laughter 
 of the picnickers borne melodiously through the trees ; 
 and either this or the tobacco chaeed his companion from 
 his side ; for his brow cleared, the puffs of smoke came 
 more calmly, and before the pipe was smoked out, Mr. 
 Fogo had sunk into a most agreeable fit of abstraction. 
 
 He was rudely aroused by the sound of voices close 
 at hand. Indeed, the speakers were but a few yards off, 
 on the bank above him. 
 
 Now Mr. Fogo was the last man to desire to over- 
 hear a conversation. But the first w^ord echoed so aptly 
 his late musings, and struck his memory, too, with so 
 deep a pang, that before he recovered it was too late. 
 
 " Geraldine ! " 
 
 "Oh! why is it?" — (it was a woman's voice that 
 asked the question, though not the voice that Mr. Fogo 
 had half expected to hear, and his very relief brought a 
 shudder with it) — " oh ! why is it that a man and a 
 woman cannot talk together except in lies ? You ask 
 if I am unhappy. Say what you mean. Do I hate my 
 husband ? Weil, then — yes 1 " 
 
158 TROY TOWN. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. " 
 
 ^^ Is that frank enough ? Oh ! yes, I have lied so 
 consistently throughout my married life that I tell the 
 truth now out of pure weariness. I detest him : some- 
 times I feel that I must kill either Fred or myself, and 
 end it all." 
 
 ^' Bless my soul ! " murmured Mr. Fogo, cowering 
 more closely. ^^ This country teems with extraordinary 
 people ! " 
 
 He held his breath as the deeper voice answered — 
 
 " Had I thought " 
 
 " Stop ! I know what you would say, and it is un- 
 true. Be frank as I am. You had half -guessed my 
 secret, and were bound to convince yourself : and why ? 
 Shall I tell you, or will you copy my candour and speak 
 for yourself ? " 
 
 Dead silence followed this question. After some 
 seconds the woman's voice resumed — 
 
 " Ah ! all men are cowards. Well, I will tell you. 
 Your question implied yet another, and it was, Do I, 
 hating my husband, love you ? " 
 
 " Geraldine ! " 
 
 " Do you still wish that question answered ? I will 
 do you that favour also. Listen i for the life of me — I 
 don't know." 
 
 And the speaker laughed — a laugh full of amused 
 tolei-ance, as though her confession had left her a care- 
 less spectator of its results. Mr. Fogo shuddered. 
 
 '' In heaven's name, Geraldine, don't mock me I '* 
 
A HIDDEN WITNESS. 159 
 
 " But it is true. How should I know ? You have 
 talked to me, read me your verses — and, indeed, I think 
 them veiy beautiful. You have with comparative pro- 
 priety, because in verse, invited me to fly with thee to a 
 desolate isle in the Southern Sea — wherever that isl- 
 and forgetting my shame and likewise blame, while you 
 do the same with name and fame and its laurel-leaf, go 
 to moral grief on a coral reef '* 
 
 '^ Geraldine, you are torturing me." 
 
 " Do I not quote correctly ? My point is this : — A 
 woman will listen to talk, but she admires action. 
 Prove that you are ready, not to fly to a coral reef, but 
 to do me one small service, and you may have another 
 answer." 
 
 '^ Name it." 
 
 Mr. Togo, peering through the bushes as one 
 fascinated, saw an extremely beautiful woman confront- 
 ing an extremely pale youth, and fancied also that he 
 saw a curious flash of contempt pass over the woman's 
 features as she answered — 
 
 '^ Really, unless you kill the Admiral next time he 
 makes a pun, I do not know that just now I need 
 such a service. By to-morrow, though, or the next 
 day, I may think of one. Until then " — she held 
 out her hand — " wait patiently, and be kind to 
 Sophia." 
 
 Mr. Moggridge started as though stung by a snake; 
 but, recollecting himself, imprinted a kiss upon the 
 proilered fingers. Again Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys laughed 
 
160 TROY TOWN. 
 
 with unaffected mirtlij and again the hidden witness 
 saw that curious gleam of scorn — only now, as the 
 young man bent his head, it was not dissembled. 
 
 They were gone. Mr. Fogo sank back against the 
 bushes, drew a long breath, and passed his hand nerv- 
 ously over his eyes ; but though the scene had passed 
 as a dream, the laugh still rang in his ears. 
 
 *^ It is a judgment on me ! " muttered the poor man 
 — '^ a judgment ! They are all alike." 
 
 Curiously enough, his next reflection appeared to 
 contradict this view of the sex. 
 
 " An extraordinary woman ! But every fresh person 
 T meet in this place is more eccentric than the last. Let 
 me see," he continued, checking off the list on his fingers; 
 " there's Caleb, and that astounding Admiral, and the 
 Twins, and Tamsin " 
 
 Mr, Fogo stared very hard at the water for seme 
 seconds. 
 
 ''And Tamsin,^' he repeated slowly. ''Hullo! my 
 feet seem to be in the water — and, bless my soul ! what 
 has become of the boat ? '' 
 
 He might well ask. The tide had been steadily 
 rising as he crouched under the banks, and was now 
 lapping his boots. Worse than this, it had floated off 
 the boat, which he had carelessly forgotten to secure, 
 and drifted it up the river, at first under cover of 
 the trees, afterwards more ostentatiously into mid- 
 channel. 
 
aoNE ! 161 
 
 Mr. Fogo rushed up the patch of shingle until 
 brought- to a standstill by its sudden declension into deep 
 water. There was no help for it. Not a soul was in 
 sight. He divested himself rapidly of his clothes, piled 
 them in a neat little heap beyond reach of the tide, and 
 then with considerable spirit plunged into the flood and 
 struck out in pursuit of the truant. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 OF A LADY OF SENSIBILITY THAT, BEING AWKWAKDLY 
 PLACED, MIGHT EASILY HAVE SET MATTERS KIGHT, 
 BUT DID NOT : WITH MUCH BESIDE. 
 
 It is hardly necessary by this time to inform my readers 
 that Miss Priscilla Limpenny was a lady of sensibility. 
 We have already seen her obey the impulse of the heart 
 rather than the cool dictates of judgment : her admira- 
 tion of natural beauty she has herself confessed more 
 than once during the voyage up the river. But 
 lest more than a due share of this admiration should 
 be set down to patriotism, I wish to put it on record 
 that she possessed to an uncommon degree an apprecia- 
 tive sense of the poetic side of Nature. She was familiar 
 with the works of Mrs. Hemans and L. E. L., and had 
 got by heart most of the effusions in "Affection's 
 Keepsake '^ and '' Friendship's Offering."" Nay, she had 
 been, in her early youth, suspected, more than vaguely, 
 of contributing fugitive verse to a periodical known as 
 the Household Packet. She had even, many years 
 ago, met the Poet Wordsworth " at the dinner- table," as 
 she expressed it, " of a common friend," and was never 
 tired of relating how the great man had spoken of the 
 
SENSIBILITY. 163 
 
 prunes as " prnins/' and said " Would you obleege me 
 with the salt ? " 
 
 With such qualifications for communion with Nature 
 it is not wonderful that, on this particular afternoon^ 
 Miss Limpenny should have wandered pensively along 
 the river's bank, and surrendered herself to its romantic 
 charm, possessed by the spirit of the place and hour, 
 she even caught herself straying by the extreme brink, 
 and repeating those touching lines from "Affection's 
 Keepsake " : — 
 
 " The eye roams widely o'er glad Nature's face, 
 To mark each varied and delightful scene ; 
 
 The simple and magnificent we trace, 
 While loveliness and brightness intervene ; 
 
 Oh ! everyvrhere is something found to " 
 
 At this point Miss Limpenny's gaze lost its dreamy 
 expansiveness, and grew rigid with horror. Imme- 
 diately before her feet, and indelicately confronting her, 
 lay a suit of man's clothing. 
 
 It is a curious fact, though one we need not linger to 
 discuss, that while clothes are the very symbol and first 
 demand of decency, few things become so flagrantly im- 
 modest when viewed in themselves and apart from use. 
 The crimson rushed to Miss Limpenny's cheek. She 
 uttered a cry and looked around. 
 
 Inexorable fate, whose compulsion directed that 
 gaze ! If raiment apart from its wearer be unseemly, 
 how much more 
 
 Aboat thirty yards from her, wading down the 
 
164 TROY TOWN. 
 
 stream, and tugging the painter of his recovered boat, 
 advanced Mr. Fogo. 
 
 To add a final touch of horror, that gentleman, 
 finding that the damp on his spectacles completely 
 dimmed his vision, had deposited them in the boat, and 
 was therefore blind to the approaching catastrophe. 
 Unconscious even of observation, he advaniied nearer 
 and nearer. 
 
 Miss Limpenny*s emotion found vent in a squeal. 
 
 Mr. Fogo heard, halted, and gazed blankly around. 
 
 " How singular I " he murmured, " I could have 
 sworn I heard a cry." 
 
 He made another step. The sound was repeated, 
 more shrilly. 
 
 '^ Again ! And, dear me, it sounds human — as of 
 some fellow-creature in distress.''-' 
 
 " Go away ! Go away at once 1 " 
 
 ^'Eh? Bless my soul, what can it be?'' Mr. 
 Fogo stared in the direction whence the voice proceeded^ 
 but of course without seeing anything. 
 
 '' I beg your pardon ? " he observed mildly. 
 
 " Go away ! " 
 
 "If you will allow me " he began, courteously 
 
 addressing vacancy. 
 
 "Monster!" 
 
 The awful truth began to dawn upon him, and was 
 followed by a hasty impulse to dive. 
 
 "If," he stammered, "I am right in supposing 
 myself to address a lady — — " 
 
SENSIBILITY IN DISTBESS. 165 
 
 " Don't talk to me, but go away." 
 
 *^ I was about to ask permission to resume my spec- 
 tacles, whicb I have unfortunately laid aside." 
 
 " No, no. That would be worse. Oh ! go away at 
 once." 
 
 " Pardon me, madam. I am aware that spectacles 
 are insufficient as a — I mean, I did not propose to con- 
 sider them in the light of a costume, but as an assistance 
 to my sight, without which " 
 
 "Oh! I shall faint." 
 
 '' Without which it will be impossible for me to ex- 
 tricate myself from this extremely unfortunate situation. 
 I am notoriously short-sighted, madam, and at this dis- 
 tance could not tell you from Adam — I should say, from 
 Eve," continued Mr. Fogo, desperately reaching out for 
 his spectacles and adjusting them. 
 
 By the imperfect glimpse which he obtained through 
 the glasses (which were still damp) he was almost moved 
 to adopt his first impulse of deserting the boat and diving. 
 But even if he swam away the case would be no better ; 
 for this unreasonable female stood sentry beside his 
 clothes. 
 
 " If I might make a suggestion, madam " 
 
 But by this time Miss Limpenny had broken forth 
 into a series of sobs and plaintive cries for protection. 
 Alas \ the rest of the picnic-party were deep within the 
 woods, and out of hearing. 
 
 " Believe me, my dear madam " 
 
 '^ I am not your dear madam." 
 
166 TROY TOWN. 
 
 " I have no other intention than to get out of this." 
 
 " Ah ! he confesses it." 
 
 " I assure you " 
 
 " Will no one protect me ? " wailed the lady, wring- 
 ing her hands and sobbing anew. But help was near, 
 though from an unexpected quarter. 
 
 *' Hulloa ! " cried a voice on the bank above, *^ what 
 be all this?" 
 
 And Peter Dearlove pushed aside the bushes and 
 descended to the shingle, closely followed by Paul. He 
 was just in time, for Miss Limpenny, with a thankful 
 little cry, staggered and fell fainting into his arms. 
 
 *' Mercy 'pon us ! " exclaimed Peter, seeing only the 
 lady, and not at first the cause of her distress, "'tes 
 Miss Limpenny." 
 
 ^^ Well, I'm jiggered I " ejaculated Paul, ^^ so 'tes." 
 
 The Twins bent over the lady, and looked at each 
 other in dismay. To Mr. Fogo' the tableau might have 
 borne a ridiculous likeness to that scene in Cymheline 
 where Guiderius and Arviragus stoop over the un- 
 conscious Imogen. But Mr. Fogo, as he stood neck- 
 high in water, was far beyond drawing any such com- 
 parison ; and Peter, instead of adjuring Miss Limpenny 
 to fear no more the heat o' the sun, accinged himself to 
 the practical difficulty. 
 
 " Did 'ee iver hear tell o' what's best to be done 
 when a leddy's took like this ? " he asked his brother. 
 
 ^^No," answered Paul; ^'Tamsin was niver took 
 this way. But that there Httle book us used to study 
 
A DEARLOVE TO THE RESCUE ! 167 
 
 when her had the whoopin'-cough an' measles wnd likely 
 tell all about et. I wish 'twas here. Wait a bit. I 
 remembers the ' Instructions for Discoverin' th' Appari- 
 ently Drownded.' Do 'ee reckon Miss Limpenny here 
 es ' appariently drownded ' ? " 
 
 " Why, no." 
 
 "I don't think so nuther. Ef she was," added 
 Paul regretfully, ^' you'd have to be extry partic'lar not 
 to roll her body 'pon casks. That was a great p'int." 
 
 '' 'Tes a long step round to fetch that book," sighed 
 Peter. 
 
 '^ An' terrable long words i' th' index when you've 
 got et. Stop now : es et f aintin', do 'ee think ? " 
 
 "Well," answered Peter thoughtfully, "et 7nouH 
 be f aintin'." 
 
 "'Cos, ef so, the best way es to hold the sufferer 
 upsi-down an' dash cold water over the face." 
 
 " That wud be takin' too much of a liberty, wudn' 
 et, Paul?" 
 
 But at this point the blood came trickling back into 
 Miss Limpenny's cheeks; the eyelids fluttered, opened; 
 she gasped a little, looked up, and — 
 
 " Is he gone ? " she asked in a weak whisper. 
 
 " Gone ? Who, ma'am ? " 
 
 " The monster." 
 
 " Light-headed yet," muttered Peter. But following 
 Miss Limpenny's stare the brothers caught sight of 
 Mr. Pogo simultaneously, and for the first time. Their 
 mahogany faces grew sensibly paler. 
 
168 TROY TOWN. 
 
 ^' Well, this beats cock-figlitin' ! " 
 
 '^ Would you mind taking that lady away ? '* 
 pleaded Mr. Fogo, through his chattering teeth ; ^' I am 
 very cold indeed, and wish to dress.^' 
 
 *' Oh 1 that voice again/' sobbed Miss Limpenny ; 
 '^ please tell him to go away.'' 
 
 Being nonplussed by these two appeals, Peter 
 addressed his reply to his brother. 
 
 " I dunno, Paul, as we've a-got to the bottom o' 
 this ; but I reck'n Mr. Fogo's been a-lettin' hes 
 prenciples take 'n too far. As for dislikin' womankind, 
 'tes in a way 'scuseable p'raps ; but notices es wan 
 thing, an' teasin' anuther." 
 
 " That's so, Peter. Ef 'tes a matter o' fash'n, tho', 
 I dunno as we've any call to interfere, not knawin' 
 what's what." 
 
 " Ef you plaise, sir," shouted Peter, " Paul an' me 
 wants to know whether you be a-doin' et by way o' 
 beitt'fash'nubble?'' 
 
 ^' I don't know what you mean. I only wish to be 
 allowed to get at my clothes. I really am suffering 
 considerably, being quite unused to these long 
 immersions." 
 
 Peter looked around and caught sight of the neat 
 pile of Mr. Fogo's attire lying underneath the bank. 
 Light began to dawn on him ; he turned to Miss 
 Limpenny — 
 
 *^ You'll excuse me, ma'am, but was you present by 
 any chance when ? " 
 
SENSE AUB SENSIBILITY. 169 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! '^ she cried, and put her hands 
 before her face. 
 
 " Then, beggin' your pard'n, but how did you come 
 here ? '' 
 
 '' I was wandering on the bank — and lost in thought 
 — and came upon these — these articles. And then— 
 oh ! I cannot, I cannot.^' 
 
 '' Furder question es," pursued Peter, with an inter- 
 rogative glance at his brother, who nodded, ^^ why not 
 ha' gone away ? " 
 
 " Dear me ! '' exclaimed Miss Limpenny, " I never 
 thought of it 1'^ 
 
 She gathered up her skirts, and, disdaining the 
 assistance of the gallant Paul, clambered up the bank, 
 and with a formal bow left the Twins staring. As she 
 remarked tearfully to Lavinia that evening, " What one 
 requires in these cases is presence of mind, my dear,'^ 
 and she heaved a piteous little sigh. 
 
 " But consider,'^ urged the sympathetic Lavinia, 
 ^' your feelings at the moment. I am sure that under 
 similar circumstances " — she shuddered — " I should have 
 behaved in precisely the same way.'"* 
 
 Mr. Fogo emerged in so benumbed a condition, his 
 teeth chattered so loudly, and his nose had grown so 
 appallingly blue, that the Twins, who had in delicacy 
 at first retired to a little distance, were forced to return 
 and help him into his clothes. Even then, however, he 
 continued to shiver to such an extent that the pair, 
 
170 TROY TOWN. 
 
 after consulting in wliispers for some moments, took off 
 their coats, wrapped him carefully about, set him in the 
 stern of his boat, and, jumping in themselves, pushed off 
 and rowed rapidly homewards. 
 
 Their patient endeavoured to express his thanks, but 
 was gravely desired not to mention it. For ten minutes 
 or so the Twins rowed in silence; at the end of this 
 time Paul suddenly dropped the bow oar ; then, leaning 
 forward, touched his brother on the shoulder and 
 whispered one word — 
 
 *' Shenachrum.^^ 
 
 ^' Or Samson,'' said Peter. 
 
 '^ I think poorly o' Samson." 
 
 " Wi' hes hair on ? " 
 
 '* Wi' or wi'out. I don't lay no store by Samson/^ 
 
 " Very well, then — Shenachrum." 
 
 The rowing was resumed, and Mr. Fogo left to 
 speculate on these dark sayings. But as tbe boat drew 
 near the column of blue smoke that, rising from the 
 hazels on the left bank, marked the whereabouts of the 
 Dearloves' cottage, he grew aware of a picture that, 
 perhaps by mere charm of composition, set his pulse 
 extravagantly beating. 
 
 At the gate above the low cliff, her frock of pink 
 print distinct against the hazels, stood Tamsin Dearlove, 
 and looked up the river. 
 
 She was bare-headed ; and the level rays of evening 
 powdered her dark tresses with gold, and touched the 
 trees behind into bronze. One hand shielded her eyes ; 
 
TAMSEN BY THE GATE. 171 
 
 the other rested on the half-open gate, and swayed it 
 softly to and fro upon its hinge. As she stood thus, 
 some happy touch of opportunity, some trick of circum- 
 stance or grouping, must, I think, have helped Mr. Togo 
 to a conclusion he had been seeking for weeks. It is 
 certain that though he has since had abundant oppor- 
 tunities of studying Tamsin, and noting that untaught 
 grace of body in which many still find the secret of her 
 charm, to his last day she will always be for him the 
 woman who stood, this summer evening, beside the gate 
 and looked up the river. 
 
 And yet, as the boat drew near, the pleasantest 
 feature in the picture was the smile with which she 
 welcomed her brothers, though it contained some wonder 
 to see them in Mr. Fogo's boat, and gave place to quick 
 alarm as she remarked the extreme blueness of that 
 gentleman's nose and the extreme pallor of his other 
 features. 
 
 " Tamsin, my dear, es the cloth laid ? " 
 '^ Yes, Peter, and the kettle ready to boil.'' 
 '* We was thinkin' as Shenachrum would be suitin' 
 Mr. Togo better. HeVe met wi' an accident.'"* 
 
 " Again ? " There was something of disdain in her 
 eyes as she curtseyed to him, but it softened imme- 
 diately. " You're kindly welcome, sir," she added, '^ and 
 the Shenachrum shall be ready in ten minutes." 
 
 Within five minutes Mr. Fogo w^as seated by the 
 corner of the hearth, and watching her as she heated the 
 beer which, together with rum, sugar, and lemon, forms 
 
172 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 the drink known and loved by Trojans as Shenachrum. 
 The Twins had retired to wash in the little out-house at 
 the back, and their splashing was audible every now and 
 again above the crackling of the wood-fire, which now, 
 as before, filled the kitchen with fragrance. Its warmth 
 struck kindly into Mr. Togo's knees, and coloured 
 Tamsin's cheeks with a hot red as she bent over the 
 flame. He watched her profile in thoughtful silence for 
 some moments, and then fell to staring at the glowing 
 sticks and the shadows of the pot-hooks and hangers on 
 the chimney-back. 
 
 " So that is Shenachrum ? " he said at last, to break 
 the silence. 
 
 " Yes.'' 
 
 '^ And what, or who, is Samson ? " 
 
 " Samson is brandy and cider and sugar.'' 
 
 "With his hair on?" 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 '^ That means more brandy. Samson was double as 
 etrong, you know, with his hair on." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 The silence was resumed. Only the tick-tack of the 
 tall clock and the splashing of the Twins disturbed it. 
 She turned to glance at him once, and then, seeing his 
 gaze fixed upon the fire that twinkled on the rim of his 
 spectacles and emphasised the hollows of his face, had 
 looked for a moment more boldly before she bent over 
 her task again. 
 
 " She is quite beautiful, but '' 
 
^' QUITE BEAUTIFUL, BUT " 173 
 
 He spoke in a dreamy abstracted tone, as if addressing 
 the pot-hooks. Tamsin started, set down the pan with 
 a clatter, and turned sharply round. 
 
 " Eh ? '^ said Mr. Togo, aroused by the clatter, '^ you 
 
 were saying ? '^ And then it struck him that he 
 
 had spoken aloud. He broke ofP, and looked up with 
 appealing helplessness. 
 
 There was a second^s pause. 
 
 " You were saying ^' 
 
 The words came as if dragged from her by an effort. 
 Her eyes were full of wrath as she stood above him and 
 waited for his reply. 
 
 " I am very sorry," he stammered ; " I never meant 
 you to hear.^' 
 
 " You were talking of ? *' 
 
 " Of you,^^ he answered simply. He was horribly 
 frightened ; but it was not in the man^s nature to lie, 
 or even evade the question. 
 
 The straightforwardness of the reply seemed to 
 buffet her in the face. She put up a hand against the 
 chimney-piece and caught her breath. 
 
 '^ What is * but ^ ? '' she asked with a kind of 
 breathless vehemence. "Finish your sentence. What 
 right have you to talk of me?^^ she went on, as 
 he did not reply. " If I am not a lady, what is 
 that to you ? Oh ! " she persisted, in answer to the 
 swift remonstrance on his face, " I can end your sen- 
 tence : * She is quite beautiful, but — quite low, of 
 course.* What right have you to call me either — to 
 
174 TROY TOWN. 
 
 speak o£ me at all ? We were content enougK before 
 you came— Peter and Paul and I. Why cannot you let 
 us alone ? I hate you ! Yes, I hope there is no doubt 
 now that I am low — hate you ! '' 
 
 She stamped her foot in passion as two angry tears 
 sparkled in her eyes. 
 
 ^' Why, Tamsin ! '' cried Paul's voice at the door, 
 '^ the Shenachrum not ready yet ? I niver knawed 'ee 
 so long afore/"* 
 
 She turned sharply, caught up the pan, and stooped 
 over the fire again. But the glow on her cheeks now 
 was hotter than any fire could bring. 
 
 " 'Tes rare stuff, sir,'" said the Twin encouragingly, 
 as Tamsin filled a steaming glass, and handed it, with- 
 out a look, to Mr. Fogo. '' Leastways, 'tes thought a 
 deal of i' these parts by them as, wi'out bein' perlite, es 
 yet reckoned jedges." 
 
 Mr. Fogo took the glass and sipped bravely. The 
 stuff was so hot that tears sprang to his eyes, but he 
 gulped it down, nevertheless. 
 
 ^' An' now, sir,'' began Peter, who had joined the 
 group, and was looking on approvingly, ^' Paul an' me 
 was considerin* in the back-kitchen, an' agreed that 
 makin' so bold as to ax 'ee, an' hopin' 'twon't be 
 thought over-free, you must stay the night, seein' 
 you've took this cold, an' the night air bein', as es well 
 known, terrable apt to give 'ee inflammation." 
 
 " We'd planned," put in Paul, " to go down wi' the 
 boat to Kit's House an' fetch up your things, and tell 
 
TAMSIN IS UNGRACIOUS. 175 
 
 Caleb about et, so's he shudn' be decomposed. An' 
 Tamsin ^11 tell 'ee there^'s a room at your sarviee, an' 
 reckoned purty — lookin' on to the bee-skeps an' the 
 orchard, at the back/' he explained with a meaning 
 glance at Tamsin, who was silent. 
 
 '^Why^ Tamsin, girl, what's amiss that you don't 
 spake ? " asked Peter ; and then his amazement got the 
 better of his i«act, as he added in a stage whisper, " 'Tes 
 on'y to change rooms. Paul an' me can aisy sleep 
 down here afore the fire ; an' us on'y offered your room 
 as bein' more genteel " 
 
 '^ I assure you," broke in Mr. Fogo, " that I am 
 quite recovered of my chill, thanks to your kindness, 
 and would rather return — much rather : though I thank 
 you all the same." He spoke to the Twins, but kept 
 his eyes on Tamsin- 
 
 "No kindness at all," muttered Peter. His face 
 fell, and he, too, looked at the girl. 
 
 Finding their eyes upon her, she was compelled to 
 epeak. 
 
 " Mr. Fogo wudn' care for the likes o' what we 
 cou'd offer him," she said. Then, seeing the pain on 
 the men's faces, she added with an effort to be gracious, 
 " But ef he can put up wi' us, he knows he shall be 
 ma^e welcome." 
 
 She did not look up, and her voice, in which the 
 peculiar sing-song of Trojan intonation was intentionally 
 emphasised, sounded so strangely that still greater 
 amazement fell upon the Twins. 
 
176 TPcOY TOWN. 
 
 *'Why, Tamsin, I niver knawed 'ee i' this mood 
 afore/' stammered Paul. 
 
 '' I assure you/' interposed Mr. Fogo, " that I value 
 your hospitality more than I can say, and shall not for- 
 get it. But it would be absurd to accept it when I am 
 so near home. If one of you would consent to row me 
 down to Kit's House, it would be the exact kindness 
 I should prefer." 
 
 The Twins assented, though not without regret at 
 his refusal to accept more. Paul agreed to row him 
 down, and the two started in the early twilight. As he 
 shook Peter's hand, Mr. Fogo looked at Tamsin. 
 
 '' Good-night," he said. 
 
 " Good-night, sir." 
 
 She did not offer to shake hands ; she scarcely even 
 looked up, but stood there before the chimney-place, 
 with the fire-light outlining her form and throwing into 
 deep shadow the side of her face that was towards him. 
 One arm was thrown up to grasp the mantel-shelf, and 
 ac>^inst this her head rested. The other hung listlessly 
 at her side. And this was the picture Mr. Fogo carried 
 out into the grey evening. 
 
 As the door closed upon him, Peter sank into the 
 stiff -backed chair beside the hearth with a puzzled sigh. 
 
 '' Why, Tamsin/' he said, as he slowly drew out his 
 pipe and filled it, " what ailed 'ee, girl, to behave like 
 
 that?" 
 
 Looking up, he saw a tear, and then a second, drop 
 brightly on the hearthstone. 
 
 I 
 
*'l HATE HImI** 177 
 
 '* Little maid ! '' 
 
 Before he could say more she had stepped to him, 
 and, sitting on the chair-arm, had flung her arms around 
 his neck and drawn his head towards her, that he might 
 not look into her face. 
 
 '^ I hate him,^' she sobbed — *' I hate him ! I wi&h I 
 had never seen him. He despises us, and — and I was 
 so happy before he came.^^ 
 
 The Twin set down his pipe upon his knee, and stared 
 into the fire. 
 
 ^^ As for hatin', Tamsin/' he said gravely, " 'tain't 
 right. Us shud love our neighbours, Scriptur^ says; 
 an' I reckon that includes tenants. I' the matter o' hes 
 despisin' us, I dunno as you'm right nuther. He's 
 fash'nubble, o' cou'se ; but very conformable, considerin' 
 — very conformable. You hain't sorry us let Kit's 
 House, eh, Tamsin ? Not hankerin' " 
 
 "No, no." 
 
 " I doubt, my dear, we'm poor hands to take care 
 of 'ee, Paul an' me. Us talks et over togither at times, 
 an' agrees 'twas wrong not to ha" sent 'ee away to school. 
 Us got a whack o' handbills down, wan time, from dif- 
 f rent places. You wudn' believe et, my dear," he went 
 on, with something hke a laugh, "but Paul an' me 
 a'most came to words over they handbills. 'Tes a 
 curious fac', but at the places where they allowed most 
 holidays, they was most partic'lar about takin' your own 
 spoon and fork, an' Paul was a stickler agen that. Et 
 grew to be a matter o' prenciple wi' Paul that wheriyer 
 
178 TROY TOWN. 
 
 you went you sbuldn' take your own spoon and fork. 
 So us niver came to no understandin\ I doubt 'twas 
 selfish, an' us can't understand maidens an' their ways ; 
 but say, my dear, ef there's anything can be set right, 
 an' us '11 try " 
 
 ^' No, no. Let me sit here beside you, and I shall 
 be better presently." 
 
 She drew a low stool to liis side, and sat with her 
 head against his knee, and her dark eyes watching the 
 fire. Peter laid one hand gently on her hair, and wound 
 the brown locks around his fingers. 
 
 '^ All right now ? ^' he asked, after several minutes 
 had passed with no sound but the ticking of the clock. 
 
 ^'All right beside you, brother. It is always all 
 right beside you.'' 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HOW A LADY AND A YOUTH, BEING SEPARATED FROM 
 THEIR COMPANY, VISITED A SHIP THAT HELD NOTHING 
 BUT WATER. 
 
 Mr. Eogo and Paul performed the journey back to Kit's 
 House in silence ; for Paul was yet wondering at his 
 sister's behaviour, and Mr. Fogo busy with thoughts he 
 could hardly have interpreted. As they drew near the 
 little quay, they discerned through the darkness, now 
 fast creeping over the river, a boat pushed off by a 
 solitary figure that jumped aboard and began to pull 
 towards them. 
 
 " Ahoy, there ! " It was Caleb's voice. 
 
 "Ahoy, Caleb!" shouted Paul in answer; ^'anything 
 wrong ? " 
 
 '^ Have *ee seen maaster ? " 
 
 " Iss, an' got 'un safe an' sound." 
 
 Caleb peered through the gloom and descried Mr. 
 Fogo. Whatever relief this may have been to his 
 feelings, it called forth no expression beyond a grunt. 
 He turned his boat and pulled back in time to help his 
 master ashore. Paul was dismissed with some words of 
 thanks which he declared unnecessary. He would row 
 back in Mr. Fogo's boat, he said, if he might be allowed, 
 
180 TROY TOWN. 
 
 and would bring her down in the early morning. With 
 this and a hearty '' Good-night " he left the pair to walk 
 up to the house together. 
 
 Caleb was unusually silent during supper, and when 
 his master grew cheery and related the adventures of the 
 day, offered no comment beyond a series of mysterious 
 sounds expressing mental discontent rather than sym- 
 pathy. Finally, when Mr. Togo had finished he looked 
 up and began abruptly — 
 
 " Ef you plaise, sir, I wants to gie warnin'/* 
 
 '^ Give warning ? '^ 
 
 " Iss, sir ; notiss to go.'' And Caleb stared fiercely 
 at his master. 
 
 '^ But, my dear Caleb, you surely don't mean ?*' 
 
 '' I do, tho'." 
 
 '* Are you dissatisfied with the place or the wages ? " 
 
 '^ That's et, sir — the wages. '^ 
 
 " If they are too low '* 
 
 " They hain't ; they be a darned sight too high." 
 
 Mr. Togo leant back in his chair. 
 
 " Too high ! '' he gasped. 
 
 " Look 'ee here, sir : here be I, so lazy as La'rence, 
 an' eatin' my head off 'pon a pund a week an' my 
 small-clothes, on condishun I looks arter 'ee. Very 
 well ; what happens ? 'Tes Dearlove, Dearlove, Dearlove 
 all the time. Fust Tamsin brings 'ee back, and then 
 Paul, an' nex time I reckon 'twill be Peter's turn. 
 VVhere-/(?r^, sir, seein' I can't offer to share wages wi* 
 the Twins, much less wi' Tamsin, I wants to go." 
 
CALEB GIVES WARNING. 181 
 
 Caleb knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and^ rising, 
 stared at his master for some seconds, and with much 
 determination. 
 
 Mr. Fogo argued the case for some time without 
 effect. But so sincerely did he paint his helplessness, 
 and nervous aversion to new faces, that at length, and 
 after many pros and cons, Caleb consented to give him 
 one more chance. " But mind, sir,'' he added, ^^ the nex' 
 time you^m brought home by a Dearlove, ' go ' ^s the 
 word.'^ On this understanding they retired to rest, but 
 it was long before Mr. Fogo could shut his memory 
 upon the panorama of the day's experiences. 
 
 Let us return to the picnickers. After what had 
 passed between Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys and Mr. Mogg- 
 ridge on the river's bank, it may seem strange that the 
 lady should have chosen Sam Buzza to row her home, 
 for the two youths were now declared rivals for her 
 goodwill. But I think we may credit her with a 
 purpose. 
 
 At any rate, when the lengthening shadows and 
 retreating tide hinted return, Sam, who had arrived late 
 in a designedly small dingey, asked Mrs. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys to accompany him, and she, with little demur, 
 complied. It did not matter greatly, as propriety would 
 be saved by their nearness to the larger boats ; and so 
 the party started together. 
 
 But this arrangement, though excellent, did not last 
 long ; for, curiously enough, the dingey soon began to 
 take a formidable lead of the next boat, in which the 
 
182 TROY TOWN. 
 
 traitorous Moggridge was pulling stroke, and gazing, 
 with what courage he could summon, into Sophia's eyes. 
 Indeed, so quickly was the lead increased that at the 
 end o£ two miles the larger boats had shrunk to mere 
 spots in the distance. 
 
 The declining sun shone in Sam's eyes as he rowed, 
 and his companion, with her sunshade so disposed as to 
 throw her face into shadow, observed him in calm 
 silence. The sunshade was of scarlet silk, and in the 
 softened light stealing through it her cheek gained all 
 the freshness of maidenhood. Her white gown, gathered 
 about the waist with a band of scarlet, not only fitted 
 her figure to perfection, but threw up the colour of her 
 skin into glowing relief. To Sam she appeared a miracle 
 of coolness and warmth; and as yet no word was 
 spoken. 
 
 At length, and not until they had passed the Dear- 
 loves' cottage, she asked — 
 
 '^ Why were you late ? " 
 
 ^' Was I missed?" 
 
 " Of course. You younger men of Troy seem 
 strangely blind to your duties — and your chances.'' 
 
 The last three words came as if by after-thought ; 
 Sam looked up quickly. 
 
 ^^ Chances ? You said ' chances,' I believe ? '^ 
 
 ''I did. Was there not Miss Saunders, for 
 instance ? " 
 
 Sam's lip curled. 
 
 '' Miss Saunders is not a chance ; she is a certainty. 
 
IT IS sam's turn. 188 
 
 Did she, for instance, announce that the beauty of the 
 day made her sad — that even amid the wealth of summer 
 something inside her whispered ' Autumn ^ ? '^ 
 
 "She did/' 
 
 " She always does ; I have never picnicked with 
 Miss Saunders but something inside her whispered 
 ' Autumn M'' 
 
 "A small bore/' suggested Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys, 
 *' that never misses fire/' 
 
 Sam tittered and resumed — 
 
 ''If it comes to duties, your husband sets the 
 example ; he hasn't moved from the club window to- 
 day." 
 
 ^' Oh ! " she exclaimed shortly, " I never asked you 
 to imitate my husband." 
 
 Sam ceased rowing and looked up ; he was familiar 
 with the tone, but had never heard it so emphasised 
 before. 
 
 " Look here," he said ; '' something's wrong, that's 
 plain. It's a rude question, but — does he neglect you ? " 
 
 She laughed with some bitterness, and perhaps with 
 a touch of self-contempt. 
 
 '' You are right ; it is a rude question : but — he does 
 not." 
 
 There was a moment's silence, and then she added — 
 
 '^ So it's useless, is it not, to wish that he 
 would ? " 
 
 The blood about Sam's heart stood still. Were the 
 words a confession or a sneer ? Djd they refer to her or 
 
184 TROY TOWN. 
 
 to him ? He would have given worlds to know, hut her 
 tone disclosed nothing. 
 
 " You mean ? " 
 
 She gave him no answer, hut turned her head to look 
 back. In the distant boats they had fallen to singing 
 glees. In this they obeyed tradition : for there is one 
 accomplishment which all Trojans possess — of fitting 
 impromptu harmonies to the most difficult air. And 
 still in the pauses of the music Miss Limpenny would 
 exclaim — 
 
 '' Did you ever see anything more lovely ? " 
 
 And the Admiral would reply — 
 
 " Really, I never did.'' 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys could not, of course, hear 
 this. But the voices of the singers stole down the river 
 and touched her, it may be, with some sense of remorse 
 for the part she was playing in this Arcadia. 
 
 ^^ We are leaving the others a long way behind/' she 
 said irresolutely. 
 
 '' Do you wish to wait for them ? " 
 
 For a moment she seemed about to answer, but did 
 not. Sam pulled a dozen vigorous strokes, and the boat 
 shot into the reach opposite Kit's House. 
 
 '^ That," she said, resting her eyes on the weather- 
 stained front of Mr. Fogo's dwelling, " is where the 
 hermit lives, is it not ? I should like to meet this man 
 that hates all women." 
 
 Sam essayed a gallant speech^ but she paid no heed 
 to it. 
 
THE SEVEN SISTERS. 185 
 
 "What a charming creek that is, beyond the house! 
 Let us row up there and wait for the others." 
 
 The creek was wrapped in the first quiet of evening. 
 There was still enough tide to mirror the tall trees that 
 bent towards it, and reflect with a grey gleam one gable 
 of the house behind. Two or three boats lay quietly 
 here by their moorings ; beside them rested a huge red 
 buoy, and an anchor protruding one rusty tooth above 
 the water. Where the sad-looking shingle ended, a few 
 long timbers rotted in the ooze. Nothing in this 
 haunted corner spoke of life, unless it were the midges 
 that danced and wheeled over the waveless tide. 
 
 '^ Yonder lies the lepers^ burial-ground," said Sam, 
 and pointed. 
 
 " I have heard of them " (she shivered) ; " and 
 that?" 
 
 She nodded towards the saddest ruin in this sad 
 spot, the hull of what was once a queenly schooner, 
 now slowly rotting to annihilation beside the further 
 shore. She lay helplessly canted to starboard, her 
 head pointing up the creek. Her timbers had started, 
 her sides were coated with green weed; her rudder, 
 wrenched from its pintle, lay hopelessly askew. On 
 her stern could still be read, in blistered paint, her name, 
 " Tke Seven Sisters of Troy." There she lay dis- 
 mantled, with a tangle of useless rigging, not fit for 
 saving, left to dangle from her bulwarks ; and a quick 
 fancy might liken her, as the tide left her, and the 
 water in her hold gushed out through a dozen gaping 
 
186 TROY TOWN. 
 
 seams, to some noble animal that bad crept to this 
 corner to bleed to death. 
 
 Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys looked towards the wreck 
 with curious interest. 
 
 ^^I should like to examine it more closely," she 
 said. 
 
 For answer Sam pulled round the schooner, and let 
 the boat drift under her overhanging side. 
 
 '^ You can climb aboard i£ you like," he said, as 
 he shipped his sculls and, standing up, grasped the 
 schooner's bulwarks. '^ Stop, let me make the painter 
 fast.'' 
 
 He took up the rope, swung himself aboard, and 
 looped it round the stump of a broken davit ; then 
 bent down and gave a hand to his companion. She 
 was agile, and the step was of no great height; but Sam 
 had to take both her hands before she stood beside him, 
 and ah! but his heart beat cruelly quick. 
 
 Once on board Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys displayed the 
 most eager inquisitiveness, almost endangering her beau- 
 tiful neck as she peered down into the hold where the 
 water lay, black and gloomy. She turned and walked aft 
 with her feet in the scuppers, and her right hand pressed 
 against the deck, so great was the cant on the vessel. 
 It was uphill walking too, for the schooner was sagged 
 in the waist, and the stern tilted up to a considerable 
 height. Nevertheless she reached the poop at las-t. 
 Sam followed. 
 
 " I want to see the captain's cabin," she explained. 
 
IN THE captain's CABIN. 187 
 
 Sam woiideredj but led the way. It was no easy 
 matter to descend the crazy ladder, aud in the cabin 
 itself the light was so dim that he struck a match. 
 Its flare revealed a broken table, a horsehair couch, and 
 a row of cupboards along the walls. On the port side 
 these had mostly fallen open, and the doors in some 
 cases hung by a single hinge. There was a horrible 
 smell in the place. Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys looked 
 around. 
 
 '^ Does the water ever come up here ? '^ she 
 asked. 
 
 Sam lit another match. 
 
 " No,'' he said, stooping and examining the floor. 
 
 *' You are quite sure ? " 
 
 Her tone was so eager that he looked up. 
 
 '^ Yes, I am quite sure ; but why do you ask ? " 
 
 She did not answer : nor, in the faint light, could 
 he see her face. After a minute's silence she said, as if 
 to herself — 
 
 " This is just the place." 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 'Tor — for an Irish jig," she laughed with sudden 
 merriment. " Come, try a step upon these old 
 timbers." 
 
 " For heaven's sake take care ! " cried Sam. 
 ''There may be a trap-hatch where you stand, and 
 these boards are rotten through and through. Ten 
 minutes ago you were mournful," he added, in wonder 
 at her change of mood. 
 
188 TROY TOWN. 
 
 " Was I ? '^ She broke out suddenly into elfish 
 aong— 
 
 •*»Och ! Pathrick O'Hea, but I'm sad, 
 Bedad ! 
 Och ! darlint, 'tis bad to be sad,' 
 
 * Hwat's this ? ' says lie. 
 
 * Wliy, a kiss,' says she. 
 
 * *Tis a cure,' says lie. 
 
 * An' that's share,' says she. 
 * Och ! Pat, you're a sinsible lad, 
 
 Bedad ! 
 Troth, Pat, you're a joole uv a lad ! '** 
 
 She broke off suddenly and shivered. 
 
 '' Come, let us go ; this place suffocates me." 
 
 She turned and ran up the crazy ladder. At the 
 top she turned and peered down upon the dumb- 
 founded Sam. 
 
 " Nobody comes here, I suppose ? *' 
 
 '' I should think not.'' 
 
 '^ I mean, the owner never comes to — — " 
 
 " To visit his cargo ? " laughed Sam. '' No, the 
 owner is dead. He was a wicked old miser, and I 
 guess in the place where he is now he'd give a deal 
 for the water in this ship; but I never heard he was 
 allowed to come back for it." 
 
 She leant her hands on the taffrail, and looked 
 over the stern. 
 
 '' Hark ! There are the other boats. Don't you 
 hear the voices ? They have passed us by, and we must 
 make haste after them." 
 
 She turned upon him with a smile. Without well 
 
" TO RUN AWAY ? " 189 
 
 knowing what he did he laid his hand softly on her 
 arm. 
 
 " Stop, I want a word before you go,*' 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 Her large eyes, gleaming on him through the dusk, 
 compelled and yet frightened him. He trembled and 
 stammered vaguely — 
 
 ^^ You said just now — you hinted, I mean — that you 
 
 were unhappy with Mr. , with your husband. Is 
 
 that so?'-' 
 
 It was the second time she had been asked the ques- 
 tion to-day. A faint smile crossed her face. 
 
 '^ Well ? ^^ she said again. 
 
 '^ I mean,'^ he answered with a nervous laugh, '' I 
 don't like to see it — and — I meant, if I could help 
 you " 
 
 " To run away ? Will you help me to run away ? " 
 Her eyes suddenly blazed upon him, and as she bent 
 forward, and almost hissed the words, he involuntarily 
 drew back a step. 
 
 " Well,^' he stammered, '^ he's a good fellow, really, 
 is your husband — he's been very good to me and all 
 that '' 
 
 " Ah I *' she exclaimed, turning away, '' I thought 
 80. Come, we are wasting time.'' 
 
 '' Stop I " cried Sam. 
 
 But she had passed swiftly down the sloping deck 
 and dropped into the boat without his assistance. He 
 followed unsteadily, untied the painter, and jumped 
 
190 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 down after her. They rowed for some time in silence 
 after the retreating picnickers. Before they came 
 abreast of the hindmost boat, however, Sam spoke — 
 
 ''Look here. I can't help myself, and that's the 
 truth. If you wane to run away I'll help you." He 
 groaned inwardly as he said it. 
 
 She made no reply, but kept her eyes fixed on his 
 face, as if weighing his words. Nor, beyond a cool 
 " Good-night '' at parting on the quay, did another 
 word pass between them. 
 
 •K- -x- -x- * * 
 
 '' What luck ? " asked the Honourable Frederic as 
 his wife entered the drawing-room of 'The Bower,' 
 He was stretched in an arm-chair before the fire, and 
 turned with a glance of some anxiety at her entrance. 
 
 She looked about her wearily, took off her hat, 
 tossed it across to a table, and, sinking into the arm- 
 chair opposite, began to draw off her gloves. 
 
 "I'm sick to death of all this, me dear — of ' the 
 Cause,' of Brady, of these people, of meself." 
 
 Her face wore a grey look that made her seem a full 
 ten years older. 
 
 "Won't you include me in the list, my love?** 
 asked her husband amiably. 
 
 " I would," she replied, " only I've already said 
 as much twice this very afternoon." 
 
 She laughed a fatigued little laugh, and looked 
 around her again. The dra^ving-room had greatly 
 changed since first we visited it with Admiral Buzza, 
 
SUSPICIOUS. IW 
 
 and the local tradesmen regarded Mr. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys' accounts with some complacency as they 
 thought of payment after Midsummer. For the 
 strangers were not of the class that goes to the 
 Metropolis or to Co-operative Stores; from the out- 
 set they had announced a warm desire to benefit the 
 trade of Troy. This pretty drawing-room was one of 
 the results, and it only wanted a certain number of 
 cheques from the Honourable Frederic to make the 
 excellence of the arrangement complete. 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys took a leisurely survey of the 
 room while her husband awaited information. 
 
 ''Tlifi pote is hooked/' she said at last, ''an' so's 
 Master Sam.'' 
 
 "The poet is our first card/' replied her husband, 
 searching his pocket and producing a letter. " The 
 Maryland should be here to-morrow or next day. 
 Upon my word, Nellie, I don't want to ask questions, 
 but you've done exceedingly well." 
 
 '' Better than well, me dear. I've found a place — 
 an illigant hidin' in an owld schooner up the river." 
 
 "Safe?" 
 
 '' As a church. I'll take yez to't to-morra. Master 
 Sam tells me sorra a sowl goes nigh ut. He tuk 
 me to see ut. I say, me darlint, I'd be lettin' that 
 young fool down aisier than the pote. He's a poor 
 little snob, but he's more like a man than Mogg- 
 ridge." 
 
 " He's a bad ass, is Moggridge," assented the 
 
192 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Honourable Frederic. ''Come, Nellie, we've a day's 
 work before us, remember/' 
 
 A friend of mine, the son of steady-going Nihilist 
 parents, and therefore an authority, assures me that 
 the Honourable Frederic cannot have been a conspirator 
 for the simple reason that he shaved his chin regularly. 
 Be this as it may, to-night he smiled mysteriously 
 as he rose, and winked at his wife in a most plebeian 
 way. I regret to say that both smile and wink were 
 returned. 
 
CHAPTEK XVI. 
 
 OF STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS j AND THAT THE NOMINALISTS 
 ERR WHO HOLD A THING TO BE WHAT IT IS CALLED. 
 
 At two o'clock next morning Mr. Moggridge closed 
 the door of his lodgings behind him, and stepping out 
 into the street stood for some moments to ponder. 
 
 A smile sat upon his lips, witness to the pleasure 
 that underlies poetic pains. The Collector of Customs 
 was in humour this morning, and had written thirty 
 lines of Act IV. of Lovers Dilemma : a Comedy, before 
 breakfast, for it was his custom to rise early and 
 drink regularly of the waters of Helicon before seeking 
 his office. It is curious that the Civil Service should so 
 often divide its claims with the Service of the Muse. I 
 remember that the Honourable Frederic once drew my 
 attention to this, and supplied me with several in- 
 stances : — ^^ There was What*s-his-name, you know, and 
 t'other Johnny up in the Lakes, and a heap I can't 
 remember at the moment — fancy it must come from 
 the stamps — licked off with the gum, perhaps."" 
 
 Be this as it may, Mr. Moggridge had written thirty 
 lines this morning, and was even now, as he stood in 
 the street and stared at the opposite house, repeating to 
 himself a song he had just composed for his hero. It 
 
194 TROY TOWN. 
 
 is wortli quoting, for, with slight alteration, I know no 
 better clue to the poet's mood at the time. The play 
 has since been destroyed, for reasons of which some hint 
 may be found in the next few chapters ; but the un- 
 finished song is still preserved among the author's 
 notes, where it is headed — 
 
 A HYMN OF LOYE. 
 
 " Toiling lover, loose your pack, 
 All your sighs and tears unbind : 
 Care's a ware may break a back, 
 May not bend a maiden's mind. 
 
 " Loose, and follow to a land 
 "Where tlie tyrant's only fee 
 Is the kissing of a hand 
 And the bending of a knee. 
 
 " In that State a man shall need 
 Neither priest nor lawgiver : 
 Those same lips that are his creed 
 Shall confess their worshipper. 
 
 *' All the laws he must obey. 
 
 Now in force and now repealed. 
 Shift in eyes that shift as they — 
 
 '' ' Shift as they/ ' shift as they/ " mused Mr. Mogg- 
 ridge. ^^ Let me see — 
 
 ' TiU alike with kisses sealed,' 
 That was it. With another verse, and a little polish- 
 ing, I will take it to Geraldine and ask her '^ 
 
 At this point the poet glanced down the street, and, 
 to his surprise, beheld Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys advancing 
 towards him. 
 
MRS. GOODWYN-SANDYS ASKS A FAVOUB, 195 
 
 '' Good-morning/"' she nodded with a charming 
 smile, '^ I was coming to look for you. I have a favour 
 to ask.'^ 
 
 " A favour ? Is it the ? '' 
 
 *^ Wellj it^s rather prosaic for the-—^^' she laughed. 
 '' In fact, its teaj' 
 
 '^Tea?'^ 
 
 " Yes. It's rather a long story ; but it comes to 
 this. You see, Fred is very particular about the tea he 
 drinks. ■'' 
 
 ^andeed?'' 
 
 '^Ifs a fact, I assure you. Well, when we were 
 travelling in the States, Fred happened to come across 
 some tea he liked particularly, at Chicago. And the 
 funny thing about this tea is that it is compressed. It 
 is called ' Wapshotts' Patent Compressed Tea ; ' now I 
 daresay,'^ added Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys demurely, ^^ that 
 you wouldn^t think it possible for compressed tea to be 
 good.'^ 
 
 '' To tell you the truth,'^ said Mr. Moggridge, ^' I 
 have never given the subject a thought.'''' 
 
 " No, of course ; being a poet, you wouldn't. But 
 *t's very good, all the same : you buy it in cakes, and 
 Aave to be very particular that ^ Wapshott and Sons ' 
 is written on each cake : of course it isn't really 
 written '^ 
 
 " Of course not ; but you'll excuse me if I don't yet 
 see '* 
 
 "To be sure you don't until I have explained. 
 
196 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Wellj you see, men are so particular about what they 
 eat and drink, and are always thinking about it — 1 
 don't mean poets, o£ course. I suppose you, for in- 
 stance, only think about gossamer and things.'^ 
 
 ^'I don't know that I think much about gossamer," 
 said Mr. Moggridge. 
 
 "Well, moonbeams, then. But Fred is different. 
 Ever since he left Chicago he has been talking about 
 that tea. I wonder you never heard him.^^ 
 
 ^' I have not, to my knowledge." 
 
 " No ? Well, at last, finding it couldn^t be bought 
 in England, he sent across for a chest. We had the 
 invoice a few days ago, and here it is." 
 
 Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys produced a scrap of paper, 
 and went on — 
 
 ^^ You see, it's coming in a ship called the Maryland ^ 
 and ought to be here about this time. Well, Fred was 
 looking through his telescope before breakfast this 
 morning — he's always looking through a telescope now, 
 and knows, I believe, every rig of every vessel in the 
 world — when he calls out, ^ Hullo ! American barque ! * 
 in his short way. Of course, I didn^t know at first 
 what he meant, and mixed it up with that stuff — 
 Peruvian bark, isn^t it ? — ^that you give to your child, if 
 you have one, and do not let it untimely die, or some- 
 thing of the sort. But afterwards he shouted, ^ I 
 shouldn't wonder if sh^'s the Maryland ; ' and then I 
 understood, and it struck me that it would be so nice to 
 come to you and pay the ^ duty,'' or whatever you call it, 
 
URIAH T. POTTER. 197 
 
 on the tea, and at the same time, if you were very good, 
 you would take me over the ship with you, and show 
 me how you did your work. It's very complicated, I 
 daresay: but I'll be quiet as a mouse, and won't in- 
 terrupt you at all." 
 
 She paused for breath. The Collector smiled, and 
 handed back the invoice. 
 
 ^^ It seems all right," he said. " Let us hurry to the 
 Custom House. An hour in your company, Geraldine, 
 will transfigiire even the dull round of duty.^' 
 
 Mrs. Goodwyn- Sandys smiled back divinely. She 
 thought it extremely probable. 
 
 A few minutes later the poet sat by Geraldine's 
 side — sweet proximity ! — in the stern of one of Her 
 Majesty's boats, while two ^ minions,' as he was wont 
 in verse to term his subordinates, rowed them towards a 
 shapely barque that had just dropped anchor not far 
 from the Bower Slip. 
 
 She flew a yellow flag in sign that she hailed from a 
 foreign port, and as the Customs' boat dropped under 
 her quarter Mr. Moggridge shouted — 
 
 ^^ Maryland, ahoy ! " 
 
 '' Ahoy ! '' answered a gruff voice, and a red face 
 looked over the side. 
 
 '' Captain ? " inquired Mr. Moggridge. 
 
 "That's me — Uriah T. Potter, Cap'n. Customs, I 
 guess,'' said the red-faced man, with a slow look at 
 Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys. 
 
198 TROT TOWN. 
 
 ^^ Clean biU of health ?'' 
 
 '^Waal^ two fo^c's'le hands down with whooping- 
 cough : take it you won^t keep us in quarantine for 
 that/' 
 
 The Collector helped Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys up the 
 ship^s side. As she alighted on deck a swift glance 
 passed between her and the red-faced man. Quite 
 casually she laid two fingers on her chin. Uriah T. 
 Potter did the same; but Mr. Moggridge was giving 
 some instructions to his minions at the moment^ and did 
 not notice it. ^ 
 
 *^ Anything to declare ? '* he asked. 
 
 '^ Mainly com aboard, an* tinned fruits for Port o' 
 London. Reasonable deal o* tea an' 'baccy, though, for 
 you to seal — shipped for same place. By the way, chest 
 o' tea for party living hereabouts — Goodwyn-Sandys, 
 friend of owner — guess that^s the reason for putting in 
 at this one-hoss place,''^ wound up Uriah T. Potter, 
 with a depreciatory glance at the beauties of Troy. 
 
 " This is Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys,^^ said the Collector. 
 
 '^ Proud to make your 'quaintance, marm.'''' The 
 Captain held out his hand to the lady, who shook it 
 affably. 
 
 " Let's see the cargo,*^ said Mr. Moggridge. 
 
 The Captain led the way and they descended ; Mr& 
 Goodwyn-Sandys full of pretty wonder at the arrange- 
 ments of the ship, and slipping her fingers timidly into 
 the Collector's hand on the dark companion-stairs. He 
 seized and raised them to his lips. 
 
ON BOARD THE MARYLAND. 199 
 
 '' Ohj you poets ! '' expostulated she. 
 
 " Where the tyrant's only fee," 
 murmured Mr. Moggridge, 
 
 " Is the kissing of a hand." 
 
 ^^ What, more verses ? You shall repeat them to 
 me.'' 
 
 I am afraid that in the obscurity below, Mr. 
 Moggridge inspected the weighing of ship's stores and 
 sealing of excisable goods in a very perfunctory 
 manner. There were so many dim corners and passages 
 where Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys needed guidance ; and, 
 after all, the minions were suiSicient for the work. They 
 rummaged here and there among casks and chests, 
 weighing, counting, and sealing, whilst the red-faced 
 Uriah stood over them and occasionally looked from the 
 Collector to the lady with a slow grin of growing 
 intelligence. 
 
 They were seated together on a cask, and Mr. 
 Moggridge had possessed himself, for the twentieth 
 time, of his companion's hand. 
 
 "You think the verses obscure ?'' he was whispering. 
 " Ah ! Geraldine, if I could only speak out from the 
 heart ! As it is, ' Euphelia serves to grace my 
 measure ! ' '^ 
 
 " Who's she ? " asked Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, whose 
 
 slight acquaintance with other poets was, perhaps, tha 
 
 reason why she rated her companion's verse so highly. 
 
 ** ' The merchant, to conceal his treasure, 
 Conveys it in a borrowed name/ " 
 
200 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Mr. Moggridge began to quote. — "Why, Geraldine, 
 what is the matter ? Are you faint ? " 
 
 " No ; it is nothing.'^ 
 
 " I thought you seemed pale. As I was saying — 
 
 * The mercliant, to conceal his treasure—' " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know/^ said she, rising abruptly. " It 
 is very hot and close down here.'' 
 
 " Then you were faint ? '' 
 
 "Here's your chest, marm,'' called the voice of 
 Uriah T. Potter. 
 
 She turned and walked towards it. It was a large, 
 square packing-case, and bore the legends — 
 
 "WAPSHOTT AND SONS', 
 CHICAGO, 
 
 PATENT COMPRESSED TEA. 
 
 TEN PRIZE MEDALS"— 
 
 stamped here and there about it. 
 
 " I suppose,'' she said, turning to Mr. Moggridge, 
 *^ I can have it weighed here, and pay you the duty, 
 and then Captain Potter can send it straight to ^ The 
 Bower'?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Moggridge ; " we won't be 
 long opening it, and then " 
 
 " Opening it ! " 
 
 ''Why, yes; as a matter of form, you know. It 
 won't take a minute." 
 
 ";3ut how foolish/' said Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys, 
 
THE TEST. 201 
 
 "when you know very well by the invoice that it'g 
 tea ! '' 
 
 " Oh_, of course it^s foolish : only it's the rule, you 
 understand, before allowing goods to be landed/' 
 
 '^ But I don't understand. It is tea, and I am ready 
 to pay the duty. I never thought you would be so 
 unreasonable." 
 
 '' Geraldine ! " 
 
 At the utterance of Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys' Christian 
 name the two minions turned aside to conceal their 
 smiles. The red-faced man's appreciation even led him 
 to dive behind the packing-case. The Collector pulled 
 himself up, and looked confused. 
 
 ^^ It was so small a thing I asked," said she, almost 
 to herself, and with a heart-rending break in her voice, 
 ^' so small a test ! " And with a sigh she half-turned 
 to go. 
 
 The Collector's hand arrested her. 
 
 '' Do you mean ? " 
 
 She looked at him with reproach in her eyes. ^^ Let 
 me pass," said she, and seeing the conflict between love 
 and duty on his face, "So small a test ! " 
 
 '' Damn the tea ! " said Mr. Moggridge. 
 
 " I am feeling so faint," said Mrs. Goodwyn- 
 Sandys. 
 
 '^ Let me lead you up to the fresh air.'^ 
 
 " No ; go and open the tea." 
 
 " I am not going to open it." 
 
 "Do!" 
 
202 TROT TOWN. 
 
 "I won't. Here, Sam/' he called to one of the 
 minions, ^' put down that chisel and weigh the chest at 
 once. You needn't open it. Come, don't stand staring, 
 but look alive. I know what's inside. Are you 
 satisfied ? '^ he added, bending over her. 
 
 ^'It frightened me so," she answered, looking up 
 with swimming eyes. ^' And I thought — I was planning 
 it so nicely. Take me up on deck, please.^' 
 
 "Come, be careful o' that chest,'"' said Captain 
 Uriah T. Potter to the minions, as they moved it up to 
 be weighed. 
 
 " Heaviest tea that iver / handled,'' groaned the 
 first minion. 
 
 " All the more duty for you sharks. O' course it's 
 heavy, bein' compressed : an' strong, too . Guess you 
 don't oft'n get tea o' this strength in your countiy, 
 anyway. Give a man two pinches o' Wapshott's best, 
 properly cooked, an' I reckon it'll last him. You won't 
 find Jdm coming to complain." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 ''No. But I ain't sayin' nuthin'," added Captain 
 Potter, '^ about his widder." 
 
 And his smile, as he regarded his hearers, was both 
 engaging and expansive. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HOW ONE THAT WAS DISSATISFIED WITH HIS PAST SAW A 
 VISION, BUT DOUBTED. 
 
 Caleb Trotter watched his master's behaviour during 
 the next few days with a growing impatience. 
 
 "I reckon/' he said, '^'tes wi' love, as Sally Bennett 
 said when her old man got cotched i' the dreshin^- 
 machine, ^you'm in^ my dear, an' you may so well go 
 dro'.'" 
 
 Nevei-theless, he would look up from his work at 
 times with anxiety. 
 
 "Forty-sax. That's the forty-saxth time he've 
 a-trotted up that blessed beach an' back ; an' five times 
 he've a-pulled up to stare at the watter. I've a-kep' 
 count wi' these bits o' chip. An' at night 'tes all 
 round the house, like Aaron's dresser, wi' a face, too, 
 like as ef he'd a-lost a shillin' an' found a thruppeny- 
 bit. This 'ere pussivantin' ^ may be relievin' to the 
 mind, but I'm darned ef et can be good for shoe-leather. 
 
 * I cannot forbear to add a note on this eminently Trojan word. 
 In the Fifteenth Century, so high was the spirit of the Trojan 
 sea-captains, and so heavy the toll of black-mail they levied on 
 ships of other ports, that King Edward IV. sent poursuivant 
 after poursuivant to threaten his displeasure. The messengers 
 had their ears slit for their pains; and " pours uivanting " or 
 " pussivanting " survives as a term for ineffective bustle. 
 
204 TKOY TOWN. 
 
 'Tes the wear an' tear^ that's what 'tes, as Aunt Lovey 
 said arter killin' her boy wi^ whacldn^" 
 
 The fact is that Mr. Togo was solving his problem, 
 though the process was painful enough. He was con- 
 cerned, too, for Caleb, whose rest was often broken by 
 his master's restlessness. In consequence, he deter- 
 mined to fit up a room for his own use. Caleb opposed 
 the scheme at first; but, finding that the business of 
 changing diverted Mr. Fogo's melancholy, gave way at 
 last, on a promise that " no May-games '* should be in- 
 dulged in — a festival term which was found to include 
 somnambulism, suicide, and smoking in bed. 
 
 Th« room chosen lay on the upper storey at the ex- 
 treme east of the house, and looked out, between two 
 tall elms, upon the creek and the lepers' burial-ground. 
 It was chosen as being directly over the room occupied 
 by Caleb, so that, by stamping his foot, Mr. Fogo could 
 summon his servant at any time. The floor was bare of 
 carpet, and the chamber of decoration. But Mr. Fogo 
 hated decoration, and, after slinging his hammock and 
 pushing the window open for air, gazed around on the 
 blistered ceiling and tattered wall-paper, rubbed his 
 hands, and announced that he should be very comfort- 
 able. 
 
 ^'Well, sir,^' said Caleb, as he turned to leave him 
 for the night, ^^ arter all, comfort 's a matter o' com- 
 parison, as St. La'rence said when he turned round 'pon 
 the gridiron. But the room's clane as watter an' scourin' 
 '11 make et — reminds me," he continued, with a glance 
 
CALEB DEPRECATES PEN AND INK. 205 
 
 round, ^' o' what the contented clerk said by hes oJSice- 
 stool : ' Chairs es good/ said he, ' and sofies es better ; 
 but ■'tes a great thing to harbour no dust/ Any orders, 
 sir?" 
 
 " No, I fancy stop ! Is my writing-case 
 
 here ? " 
 
 Caleb's anxiety took alarm. 
 
 '^You hain't a-goin' to do et in writin', sir, 
 sure-ly ! " 
 
 Mr. Fogo stared. 
 
 '' Don't 'ee, sir— don't 'ee ! " 
 
 " Really, Caleb, your behaviour is most extraordinary. 
 What is it that I am not to do ? " 
 
 ^'Why, put et in writin', sir: they don't like et. 
 Go up an' ax her like a man — ' Will 'ee ha^ me ? Iss or 
 no ? ' That was ould Dick Jago's way, an' I reckon he 
 knowed, havin' married sax wifes, wan time an' another. 
 Bui as for pen and ink " 
 
 "You mistake me," interrupted Mr. Fogo, with a 
 painful flush. He paused irresolutely, and then added, 
 in a softer tone, ^' Would you mind taking a seat in 
 the window here, Caleb ? I have something to say to 
 you." 
 
 Caleb obeyed. For a moment or two there was 
 silence as Mr. Fogo stood up before his servant. The 
 light of the candle on the chest beside him but half re- 
 vealed his face. When at last he spoke it was in a 
 heavy, mechanical tone. 
 
 ** You guessed once,'' he said, " and rightly, that a 
 
206 TROY TOWN. 
 
 woman was the cause o£ my seclusion in this place. In 
 such companionship as ours^ it would have been difficult 
 — even had I wished it — to keep up the ordinary rela- 
 tions of master and man ; and more than once you have 
 had opportunities of satisfying whatever curiosity you 
 may have felt about my — my past. Believe me, Caleb, 
 I have noted your forbearance, and thank you for 
 it.'' 
 
 Caleb moved uneasily, but was silent. 
 
 '^ But my life has been too lonely for me/' pursued 
 his master wearily. " On general grounds one would 
 not imagine the life of a successful hermit to demand 
 any rare qualifications. It is humiliating, but even as a 
 hermit I am a failure : for instance, you see, I want to 
 talk." 
 
 His hearer, though puzzled by the words, vaguely 
 understood the smile of self-contempt with which they 
 were closed. 
 
 ''As a woman-hater, too, my performances are 
 beneath contempt. I did think," said Mr. Fogo with 
 something of testiness in his voice, '' I should prove an 
 adequate woman-hater, whereas it happens " 
 
 He broke off suddenly, and took a turn or two up and 
 down the room. Caleb could have finished the sentence 
 for him, but refrained. 
 
 '' Surely/' said Mr. Fogo, pausing suddenly in his 
 walk, '' surely the conditions were favourable enough. 
 Listen. It is not so very long ago since I possessed 
 ambitions — hopes; hopes that I hugged to myself as 
 
MR. TOGO SPEAKS. 207 
 
 only a silent man may. With them I meant to move 
 the world, so far as a writer can move the world (which 
 I daresay may be quite an inch). These hopes I put in 
 the keeping of the woman I loved. Can you foresee the 
 rest ? " 
 
 Caleb fumbled in his pocket for his pipe, found 
 it, held it up between finger and thumb, and looking 
 along the stem, nodded. 
 
 ^' We were engaged to be married. Two days before 
 the day fixed for our wedding she — she came to me 
 (knowing me, I suppose, to be a mild man) and told me 
 she was married — had been married for a week or more, 
 to a man I had never seen — a Mr. Goodwyn- Sandys. 
 Hallo ! is it broken ? " 
 
 For the pipe had dropped from Caleb's fingers and 
 lay in pieces upon the floor. 
 
 ^^ Quite so,'' he went on in answer to the white 
 face confronting him, ^' I know it. She is at this 
 moment living in Troy with her husband. I had under- 
 stood they were in America ; but the finger of fate is 
 in every pie.'' 
 
 Caleb drew out a large handkerchief, and, mopping 
 his brow, gasped — 
 
 '^ Well, of all ," and then broke off to add feebly, 
 
 " Here's a coinci-dence ! — as Bill said when he was 
 hanged 'pon his birthday." 
 
 ^^ I have not met her yet, and until now have 
 avoided the chance. But now I am curious to seo 
 her " 
 
208 TROT TOWN. 
 
 " Don't 'ee, sir." 
 
 " And to-night intended writing.'* 
 
 " Don't 'ee, sir ; don't 'ee.'' 
 
 " To ask for an interview, Caleb/' pursued Mr. Togo, 
 drawing himself up suddenly while his eyes fairly 
 gleamed behind his spectacles. " Here I am, my past 
 wrecked and all its cargo of ambitions scattered on the 
 sands, and yet — and yet I feel to-night that I could 
 thank that woman. Do you understand ? " 
 
 "I reckon I do/' said Caleb, rising heavily and 
 making for the door. 
 
 He stopped with his hand on the door, and turning, 
 observed his master for a minute or so without remark. 
 At last he said abruptly — 
 
 ^^ Pleasant dreams to 'ee, sir : an' two knacks 'pon 
 the floor ef I be wanted. Good-night, sir." And with 
 this he was gone. 
 
 Mr. Togo stood for some moments listening to his 
 footsteps as they shuffled down the stairs. Then with a 
 sigh he turned to his writing-case, pulled a straw- 
 bottomed chair before the ricketty table, and sat for 
 a while, pen in hand, pondering. 
 
 Before he had finished, his candle was low in its 
 socket, and the floor around him littered with scraps 
 of torn paper. He sealed the envelope, blew out the 
 candle, and stepped to the window. 
 
 ^'I wonder if she has changed," he said to him- 
 self. 
 
 Outside, the summer moon had risen above the hill 
 
MR. FOGO MAKES A DISCOVERY. 209 
 
 facing him, and the near half of the creek was ablaze 
 with silver. The old schooner still lay in shadow, but 
 the water rushing- from her hold kept a perpetual music. 
 Other sounds there were none but the soft rustling of 
 the swallows in the eaves overhead, the sucking of the 
 tide upon the beach below, and the whisper of night 
 among the elms. The air was heavy with the frag- 
 rance of climbing roses and all scents of the garden. 
 In such an hour Nature is half sad and wholly 
 tender. 
 
 Mr. Fogo lit a pipe, and, watching its fumes as they 
 curled out upon the laden night, fell into a kingly 
 melancholy. He dwelt on his past, but without resent- 
 ment; on Tamsin, but with less trouble of heart. 
 After all, what did it matter? Mr. Fogo, leaning 
 forward on the window-seat, came to a conclusion to 
 which others have been led before him — that life is a 
 small thing. Oddly enough, this discovery, though 
 it belittled his fellow-men considerably, did not be- 
 little the thinker at all, or rather affected him with 
 a very sublime humility. 
 
 " When one thinks," said he, ^^ that the moon will 
 probably rise ten million times over the hill yonder on 
 such a night as this, it strikes one that woman-hating is 
 petty, not to say a trifle fatuous. '"^ 
 
 He puffed awhile in silence, and then went on — 
 
 " The strange part of it is, that the argument does 
 not seem to affect Tamsin as much as I should have 
 fancied." 
 
210 TROY TOWN. 
 
 He paused for a moment^ and added — 
 
 ^' Or to prove as conclusively as I should expect 
 that I am a fool. Possibly if I see Geraldine to- 
 morrow, she will prove it more satis " 
 
 He broke off to clutch the lattice, and stare with 
 rigid eyes across the creek. 
 
 For the moon was by this time high enough to fling 
 a ray upon the deserted hull : and there — upon the 
 deck — stood a figure — the figure of a woman. 
 
 She was motionless, and leant against the bulwarks, 
 with her face towards him, but in black shadow. A 
 dark hood covered her head ; but the cloak was flung 
 back, and revealed just a gleam of white where her 
 bosom and shoulders bent forward over the schooner's 
 side. 
 
 Mr. Togo's heart gave a leap, stood still, and then 
 fell to beating with frantic speed. He craned out at 
 the window, straining his eyes. At the same moment, 
 the pipe dropped from his lips and tumbled, scattering 
 a shower of sparks, into the rose-bush below. 
 
 When he looked up again the woman had dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Suddenly he remembered Caleb's story of the girl 
 who, ages back, had left her home to live among 
 the lepers in this very house, perhaps in the very room 
 he occupied ; and of the ghoi,t that haunted the burial- 
 ground below. Mr. Togo was not without courage ; but 
 the recollection brought a feeling as of many spiders 
 creepiug up his spine. 
 
THE WOMAN ON THE WHECK. 211 
 
 And yet the whole tale was so unlikely that, by 
 degrees, as he gazed at the wreck, now completely bathed 
 in moonlight, he began to persuade himself that his eyes 
 had played him a trick. 
 
 " I will go to bed,'^ he muttered ; " I have been 
 upset lately, and these fits of mine may well pass into 
 hallucination. Once think of these women and ** 
 
 He stopped as if shot. From behind the wreck 
 a small boat shot out into the moon's brilliance. Two 
 figures sat in it, a woman and a man ; and as the boat 
 dropped swiftly down on the ebb he had time to notice 
 that both were heavily mufiled about the face. This was 
 all he could see, for in a moment they had passed into 
 the gloom, and, the next, the angle of the house hid 
 them from view ; but he could still hear the plash of 
 their oars above the sounds of the night. 
 
 " The leper and his sweetheart," was Mr. Fogo's first 
 thought. But then followed the reflection — v/ould 
 ghostly oars sound ? On the whole, he decided against 
 the supernatural. But the mystery remained. More 
 curious than agitated, but nevertheless with little 
 inclination to resume his communing with the night, 
 Mr. Fogo sought his hammock and fell asleep. 
 
 The sun was high when he awoke, and as he de- 
 scended to breakfast he heard Caleb's mallet already at 
 work on the quay below. Still anxious to set his doubts 
 at rest, he made a hasty meal, and walked down to take 
 a second opinion on the vision. 
 
 Caleb, with his back towards the house, was busily 
 
212 TROY TOWN. 
 
 fitting a new thwart into Mr. Fogo's boat, and singing 
 
 with extreme gaiety — 
 
 " Oh, where be the French dogs P 
 Oh ! where be they, O ? 
 They be down i' their long-boats, 
 AU on the salt say, O ! " 
 
 What with the song and the hammering, he did not 
 hear his master's approach. 
 
 " Up flies the kite, 
 
 An' down flies the lark, O ! 
 Wi' hale an' tow, rumbelow ** 
 
 '^ Good-morning Caleb.'' 
 
 *'Aw, mornin' to 'ee, sir. You took me un- 
 awares — 
 
 * All for to fetch home, 
 
 The summer an' the May, ! 
 For summer es a-come. 
 An' winter es a-go/ " 
 
 " Caleb; I have seen a ghost." 
 
 The mallet stopped in mid-descent. Caleb looked up 
 again open-mouthed. 
 
 '' Tom Twist and Harry Dingle ! '* 
 
 ^' I beg your pardon ? " 
 
 << Figger o' speech, sir, meanin' ' Who'd ha' thought 
 et ? ' Whose ghost, sir, e£ 'tain't a rude question ? '' 
 
 Mr. Togo told his story. 
 
 At its conclusion, Caleb laid down his mallet and 
 whistled. 
 
 " 'Tes the leppards, sure 'nuff, a-ha'ntin' o' th' ould 
 
MR. FOGO IS LIKENED TO A GAME-COCK. 213 
 
 place. Scriptur' says they will not change their spots, 
 an' I'm blest ef et don't say truth. But deary me, sir, 
 an^ axin' your pardon for sayin' so, you'm a game-cock, 
 an' no mistake.'* 
 
 ''IsSj sir. Two knacks 'pen the floor, an' I'd ha' 
 been up in a jiffey. But niver mind, sir, us^U wait up 
 for mun to-night, an' I'll get the loan o' the Dearloves' 
 blunderbust in case they gets polrumptious." 
 
 Mr. Togo deprecated the blunderbuss, but agreed to 
 sit up for the ghost ; and so for the time the matter 
 dropped. But Caleb's eyes followed his master admir- 
 ingly for the rest of the day, and more than once he 
 had to express his feelings in vigorous soliloquy. 
 
 ^' Niver tell me ! Looks as ef heM no more pluck 
 nor a field-mouse ; an' I'm darned ef he takes more 
 'count of a ghost than he wud of a circuit-preacher. 
 Blest ef I don't think ef a sperrit was to knack at the 
 front door, he'd tell 'un to wipe hes feet ^pon the mat, 
 an' make hissel' at home. Well, well, seein's believin', 
 as Tommy said when he spied Noah's Ark i' the peep- 
 show." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 OF A YOUNG MAN THAT WOUIiD START UPON A DARK 
 ADVENTURE, BUT HAD TWO MINDS UPON IT. 
 
 At ten o'clock on this same morning Mr. Samuel Buzza 
 sat by the Club window, alternately skimming his 
 morning paper and sipping his morning draught. He 
 was alone, for the habit of early rising was last following 
 the other virtues of antique Troy, and the members 
 rarely mustered in force before eleven. 
 
 He had read all the murders and sporting intelli- 
 gence, and was about to glance at the affairs of Europe> 
 when Mrs. Cripps, the caretaker, entered in a hurry and 
 a clean white apron. 
 
 ^' If you please, sir, there's Seth Udy's little boy 
 below with a note for you. I'd have brought it up, but 
 he says he must give it hisself /' 
 
 Sam, descending with some wonder, encountered Mr. 
 Moggridge in the passage. The rivals drew aside to let 
 each other pass. On the doorstep stood a ragged urchin, 
 and waved a letter. 
 
 " For you, sir ; an' plaise you'm to tell me ' yes ' or 
 ' no/ 60 quick as possible." 
 
 Sam took the letter, glanced at the neat, feminine 
 handwriting of the address, and tore open the envelope. 
 
A LETTER. 215 
 
 "Dear Mr. Btjzza,— If you care to remember what was 
 spoken the other evening, you will to-night help a most unhappy 
 woman. Tou will go to the captain's cabin of the Wreck which 
 we visited together, and find there a small portmanteau. It 
 may be carried in the hand, and holds the few necessaries I have 
 hidden for my flight, but please carry it carefully. If you wiU 
 be waiting with this by the sign-post at the Five I/anes' corner, 
 at 11.30 to-night, no words of mine will repay you. Should you 
 refuse, I am a wretched woman ; but in any case I know I may 
 trust you to say no word of this. 
 
 "Look out for the closed carriage and pair. A word to the 
 bearer will tell me that I may hope, or that you care nothing for 
 me. ''G.G.-S. 
 
 " P.S. — Be very careful not to shalee the portmanteau" 
 
 ^^ What be I to say, plaise, sir ? ^' 
 
 Sam, who had read the letter for a third time 
 syllable by syllable, looked around helplessly. 
 
 '' Ef you plaise, what be I to say ? " 
 
 Sam very heartily wished both boy and letter to the 
 devil. He groaned aloud, and was about to answer, 
 when he paused suddenly. 
 
 In the room above, Mr. Moggridge was singing a 
 jaunty stave. 
 
 The sound goaded Sam to madness ; he ground his 
 teeth and made up his mind. 
 
 '^ Say ^ yes,' *' he answered, shortly. 
 
 The word was no sooner spoken than he wished it 
 recalled. But the urchin had taken to his heels. With 
 an angry sigh Sam let circumstance decide for him, and 
 returned to the reading-room. 
 
 No doubt the consciousness that pique had just 
 
216 TROY TOWN. 
 
 betrayed his judgment made him the more inclined to 
 quarrel with the poet. But assuredly the sight that 
 met his eyes caused his blood to boil ; for Mr. Mogg- 
 ridge was calmly in possession of the chair and 
 newspaper which Sam had, but a moment since, 
 resigned. 
 
 ^^ Excuse me, but that is my chair and my paper.'' 
 
 '' Eh ? '' The poet looked up sweetly. " Surely, the 
 Club chair and the Club paper '' 
 
 '^ I have but this moment left them.'' 
 
 '^ By a singular coincidence, I have but this moment 
 taken possession of them." 
 
 '^ Give them up, sir.'' 
 
 '^ I shall do nothing of the kind, sir." 
 
 At this point Sam was seized with the unlucky 
 inspiration of quoting from Mr. Moggridge's published 
 works — 
 
 " Forbid the flood to wet thy feet, 
 Or bind its wrath in cliains ; 
 But never seek to quench the heat 
 That fires a poet's veins ! " 
 
 This stanza, delivered with nice attention to its author's 
 drawing-room manner, was too much. 
 
 " Sir, you are no gentleman ! " 
 
 " You se«m," retorted Sam, " to be an authority on 
 manners as well as Customs. I won't repeat your 
 charge ; but I'll be dashed if you're a poet I " 
 
 My Muse is in a very pretty pass. Gentlest of her 
 sisterhood, she has wandered from the hum of Miss 
 
217 
 
 Limpenny's whist-table into the turmoil of Mars. Even 
 as one who, strolling through a smiling champaign, finds 
 suddenly a lion in his path, and to him straightway 
 the topmost bough of the platanus is dearer than the 
 mother that bare him — in short, I really cannot say how 
 this history would have ended, had not Fortune at this 
 juncture descended to the Club-room in form and speech 
 like to Admiral Buzza. 
 
 The Admiral did not convey his son away in a 
 hollow cloud, or even break the Club telescope in Mr. 
 Moggridge's hand ; he made a speech instead, to this 
 effect :— 
 
 " My sons, attend and cease from strife implacable j 
 neither be as two ravening whelps that, having chanced 
 on a kid in the dells of the mountain, dispute thereover, 
 dragging this way and that with gnashing jaws. For 
 to youth belong anger and biting words, but to soothe is 
 the gift of old age.'' 
 
 What the Admiral actually said was — 
 
 '' Hullo ! what the devil are you young cubs 
 quarrelling about ? " 
 
 And now, satisfied that no blood is to be spilt, the 
 Muse hies gladly to a very different scene. 
 
 In the drawing-room of ' The Bower ' Mrs. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys was sitting with a puzzled face and 
 a letter on her lap. She had gone to the front door to 
 learn Sam Buzza's answer, and, having dismissed her 
 messenger, was returning, when the garden-gate creaked, 
 and a blue-jerseyed man, with a gravely humorous face, 
 
218 TROY TOWN. 
 
 stood before her. The newcomer had regarded her lon^ 
 and earnestly before asking — 
 
 "Be you Mrs. Goodwyn- Sandys ? '' 
 
 ''lam." 
 
 " Answerin' to name o^ Geraldine, an^ lawful wife o' 
 party answerin' to name o' Honorubble Frederic ? " 
 
 '^ Certainly ! " she smiled. 
 
 " H^m. Then this 'ere's for you." And the blue- 
 jerseyed man handed a letter^ and looked at her again^ 
 searchingly. 
 
 '^ Is there an answer ? '"' 
 
 " No, I reckon.'^ 
 
 She was turning, when the man suddenly laid a 
 finger on her arm. 
 
 " Axin^ pardon, but you'll let ^un down aisy, won^t 
 ^ee? He don't bear no malice, tho' he^ve a-suffered a 
 brave bit. Cure 'un, that's what I say — cure ''un : 
 this bein', o' course, atween you an' me. An' look 
 ^ee here/' he continued, with a slow nod ; '^ s'posin' the 
 party lets on as he's a-falled in love wi' another party, I 
 reckon you w^on't be the party to hinder et. Mind, 1 
 hain't sayin' you cou'd, but you won't try, will 'ee? 
 That's atween you an' me, o' cou^se.'^ 
 
 The man winked solemnly, and turned down the 
 path. Before she recovered of her astonishment he had 
 paused again at the gate, and was looking back. 
 
 "That's understood/' he nodded; "atween you an' 
 me an' the gate-post, o' course." 
 
 With that he had disappeared. 
 
ANOTHER LETTER. 219 
 
 Mrs. Good wyn- Sandy s_, if bewildered at tliis, was yet 
 more astonished at the contents of the letter. 
 
 ^' Fogo ? " she repeated, with a glance at the signa- 
 ture — ^^ Fogo ? Won^t that be the name of the woman- 
 hater up at Kit's House, me dear ? " 
 
 '^ Certainly/' answered the Honourable Frederic. 
 
 " Then I'll trouble yez to listen to this." 
 
 She read as follows : — 
 
 " My Dear Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandts,— When last you left 
 me I prayed that we might never meet again. But time is 
 stronger than I fancied, and here I am writing to you. Fate 
 must have been in her most ironical mood to bring us so near 
 in this comer of the world. I thought you were in another 
 continent ; but if you will let me accept the chance which brings 
 us together, and call upon you as an old friend, I shall really be 
 grateful : for there will be much to talk about, even if we avoid, 
 as I promise to do, all that is painful ; and I am very lonely. I 
 have seen your husband, and hope you are very happy.— Believe 
 me, very sincerely yours, " Philip Fogo." 
 
 " What does it mean ? '' asked Mrs. Goodwyn- Sandys 
 helplessly. 
 
 " It means, Nellie, that we have just time enough, 
 and none to spare; in other words, that 'Goodwyn- 
 Sandys' has come near to being a confoundedly 
 fatal '' 
 
 *' Then he must have known " 
 
 " Known ! My treasure, where are your wits ? 
 Beautiful namesake — jilted lover — ^ hence, perjured 
 woman ' — bleeding heart — years pass — marry another — 
 finger of fate — Good Lord 1 " wound up the Honourable 
 
220 TROT TOWN. 
 
 Frederic " I met the fellow one day, and couldn'i 
 understand why he stared so — gave me the creeps — see 
 it all now." 
 
 He lay back in his chair and whistled. 
 
 There was a tap at the drawing-room door, and the 
 buttoned youth announced that Mrs. Buzza was with- 
 out, and earnestly begged an interview with Mrs. 
 Good wyn- Sandys. The Honourable Frederic obligingly 
 retired to smoke, and the visitor was shown in. 
 
 Her appearance was extraordinary. Her portly 
 figure shook; her eyes were red; her bonnet, rakishly 
 poised over the left eye, had dragged askew the '^ front '' 
 under it, as though its wearer had parted her hair on one 
 side in a distracted moment. A sob rent her bosom as 
 she entered. 
 
 '^ My poor soul ! " murmured Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, 
 '^ you are in trouble." 
 
 Mrs. Buzza tried to speak, but dropped into a chair 
 and nodded instead. 
 
 '' What is the matter ? '' 
 
 '' It's— it's Mm." 
 
 "The Admiral?" 
 
 Mrs. Buzza mopped her eyes and nodded again. 
 
 '^ What has he done now ? '' 
 
 " S-said his bu-bu-breakf ast was cold this mo- 
 horning, and p-pitched the bu-bu-breakf ast- set over the 
 quay-door," she moaned. Oh ! w-what shall I do ? " 
 
 ^' Leave him ! " 
 
 Mrs. Buzza clasped her hands and stared. 
 
CLIMAX. 221 
 
 '' You could see the m-marks quite plain," she wailed. 
 
 '' What ! Did he strike you ? " 
 
 "I mean, on the bo-bottom of the c-cups. They 
 were real W-worcester/^ 
 
 ^^ Leave him ! Oh ! I have no patience/' and Mrs. 
 Good wyn- Sandys stamped her little foot, ^^ with you 
 women of Troy. Will you always be dolls — dolls with 
 a painted smile for all man's insane caprices ? Will 
 you never ? " 
 
 '^ I don't paint," put in Mrs. Buzza feebly. 
 
 ^' Revolt, I say ! Leave him this very night ! Oh ! 
 if I could '' 
 
 " If you please 'm," interrupted the page, throwing 
 open the door, ^' here's Mrs. Simpson, an' says she must 
 see you particular." 
 
 Mrs. Buzza had barely time to dry her eyes and set 
 her bonnet straight, before Mrs. Simpson rushed into 
 the room. The newcomer's face was crimson, and her 
 eyes sparkled. 
 
 *' Oh ! Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, I must " 
 
 At this point she became aware of Mrs. Buzza, 
 stopped abruptly, sank into a chair, and began aimlessly 
 to discuss the weather. 
 
 This was awkward; but the situation became still 
 further strained when Mrs. Pellow was announced, and 
 bursting in with the same eagerness, came to a dead 
 halt with the same inconsequence. Mrs. Saunders fol- 
 lowed with white face and set teeth, and Mrs. Ellicome- 
 Payne in haste and tears. 
 
222 TROY TOWN. 
 
 ^' Pray come in," said their hostess blandly ; " this 
 is quite like a mothers^ meeting/' 
 
 The reader has no doubt guessed aright. Though 
 nobody present ever afterwards breathed a word as 
 to their reasons for calling thus at ^The Bower,' and 
 though the weather (which was serene and settled) alone 
 supplied conversation during their visit, the truth is that 
 the domestic relations of all these ladies had coincidently 
 reached a climax. It seems incredible ; but by no other 
 hypothesis can I explain the facts. If the reader can 
 supply a better, he is entreated to do so. 
 
 At length, finding the constraint past all bearing, 
 Mrs. Buz7a rose to go. 
 
 '^ You will do it ? " whispered her hostess as they 
 shook hands. 
 
 She could not trust herself to answer, but nodded and 
 hastily left the room. At the front door she almost ran 
 against a thin, mild-faced gentleman. He drew aside 
 with a bow, and avoided the collision ; but she did not 
 notice him. 
 
 " I will do it," she kept repeating to herself, '' in 
 spite of the poor girls." 
 
 A mist swept before her eyes as she passed down the 
 road. She staggered a little, with a vague feeling that 
 the world was ending somehow ; but she repeated — 
 
 ^^ I will do it. I have been a good wife to him ; but 
 it^s all over now — it^s all over to-night/' 
 
 The mild-faced gentleman into whom Mrs. Buzza 
 had so nearly run in her agitation was Mr. Fogo. A 
 
AT BAY. 223 
 
 certain air of juvenility sat upon him, due to a new pair 
 of gloves and the careful polish which Caleb had coaxed 
 upon his hat and boots. His clothes were brushed, his 
 carriage was more erect ; and the page, who opened the 
 door, must, after a scrutiny, have pronounced him pre- 
 sentable, for he was admitted at once. 
 
 Undoubtedly the page blundered ; but the events of 
 the past hour had completely muddled the poor boy's 
 wits, and perhaps the sight of one of his own sex was 
 grateful, coming as it did after so many agitated females. 
 At any rate, Mr. Fogo and his card ente»'sd the 
 Goodwyn-Sandys' drawing-room together. 
 
 I leave you to imagine his feelings. In one wild 
 instant the scene exploded on his senses. He staggered 
 back against the door, securely pinning the retreating 
 page between it and the doorpost, and denuding the 
 Goodwyn-Sandys' livery of half a dozen buttons. The 
 four distracted visitors started up as if to escape by the 
 window. Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys advanced. 
 
 She was white to the lips. A close observer might 
 have read the hunted look that for one brief moment 
 swept over her face. But when she spoke, her words 
 were cold and calm. 
 
 " You wish to see my husband, Mr. ? '' She 
 
 hesitated over the name. 
 
 '^ Not in the least,'^ stammered Mr. Fogo. 
 
 There was an awful silence, during which he stared 
 blankly around on the ladies. 
 
 " Then may I ask ? " 
 
224 TROY TOWN. 
 
 '^ I desired to see Gerald — I mean, Mrs. Goodwyn- 
 S andy s — but ^ ' 
 
 " I am Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys. Would you mind 
 stating your business ? " 
 
 Mr. Fogo started, dropped his hat, and leant back 
 against the door again. 
 
 ''Your' 
 
 '* Certainly." Her mouth worked slightly, but her 
 eyes were steady. 
 
 '^ You are she that — was — once — Geraldine — 
 O'Halloran?'' 
 
 '' Certainly.-" 
 
 "Excuse me, madam,'^ said Mr. Fogo, picking up 
 his hat and addressing Mrs. Simpson politely, ^'but the 
 mole on your chin annoys me.^' 
 
 '' Sir ! '' 
 
 *' Annoys me excessively. May I ask, was it a birth* 
 mark?^' 
 
 *' He is mad ! ** screamed the ladies, starting up and 
 wringing their hands. " Oh, help ! help ! '^ 
 
 Mr. Fogo looked from one to another, and passed 
 his hand wearily over his eyes. 
 
 " You are right,^"* he murmured ; *' I fancy — do you 
 know — that I must be — slightly — mad. Pray excuse 
 me. Would one of you mind seeing me home ? '' he 
 asked with a plaintive smile. 
 
 His eyes wandered to Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, who 
 stood with one hand resting on the table, while the other 
 pointed to the door. 
 
MR. FOGO IS STAGGERED. 225 
 
 " Help ! help ! ^^ screamed the ladies. 
 
 Without another word he opened the door and 
 tottered out into the passage. At the foot o£ the stairs 
 he met the Honourable Frederic, who had been attracted 
 by the screams. 
 
 "It's all right/' said Mr. Fogo; " don't trouble. I 
 shall be better out in the open air. There are women in 
 there" — he pointed towards the drawing-room — "and 
 one with a mole. I daresay it's all right— but it seemed 
 to me a very big mole." 
 
 And leaving the Honourable Frederic to gasp, he 
 staggered from the house. 
 
 What happened in the drawing-room of 'The 
 Bower ' after he left it will never be known, for the 
 ladies of Troy are silent on the point. 
 
 It was ten o'clock at night, the hour when men may 
 cull the bloom of sleep. Already the moon rode in a 
 serene heaven, and, looking in at the Club window, 
 Baw the Admiral and Lawyer Pellow — '^ male feriatos 
 Troas " — busy with a mild game of ecarie. There were 
 not enough to make up a loo to-night, for Sam and Mr. 
 Moggridge were absent, and so — more unaccountably — 
 was the Honourable Frederic. The moon was silent, 
 and only she, peering through the blinds of 'The 
 Bower,' could see Mr. and Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys 
 hastily packing their boxes j or beneath the ladder, by 
 ? 
 
226 TROY TOWN. 
 
 the Admirars quay-door, a figure stealthily unmooring 
 the Admii-al's boat. 
 
 To say that Sam Buzza did not relish his task were 
 but feebly to paint his feelings^ as, with the paddles 
 under one arm, and the thole-pins in his pocket, he 
 crept down the ladder and pushed off. Never before 
 had the plash of oars seemed so searching a sound; 
 never had the harbour been so crowded with vessels ; 
 and as for buoys, small craft, and floating logs, they 
 bumped against his boat at every stroke. The moon, 
 too, dogged him with persistent malice, or why was it 
 that he rode always in a pool of light? The ships' 
 lamps tracked him as so many eyes. He carried a 
 bull's-eye lantern in the bottom of his boat, and the 
 smell of its oil and heated varnish seemed to smell aloud 
 to Heaven. 
 
 With heart in mouth, he crossed the line of the ferry, 
 and picked his way among the vessels lying off the 
 jetties. On one of these vessels somebody was playing 
 a concertina, and as he crept under its counter a voice 
 hailed him in German. He gave no answer, but pulled 
 quickly on. And now he was clear again, and nearing 
 Kit's House under the left bank. There was no light in 
 any window, he noticed, with a glance over his shoulder. 
 Still in the shadow, and only pulHng out, here and 
 there, to avoid a jutting rock, he gained the creek's 
 mouth, and rowed softly up until the bulwarks of the 
 old wreck overhung him. 
 
SAMS ERRAND. 227 
 
 The very silence daunted him now ; but it must be 
 gone through. Thinking to deaden fear by hurry, 
 he caught up the lantern, leapt on board with the 
 painter, fastened it, and crept swiftly towards the 
 poop. 
 
 He gained the hatch, and paused to turn the slide of 
 his lantern. The shaft of light fell down the com- 
 panion as into a pitch-dark well. He could feel his 
 heart thumping against his ribs as he began the descent, 
 and jumping with every creak of the rotten boards, 
 while always behind his fright lurked a sickening sense 
 of the guilty foolishness of his errand. 
 
 At the ladder's foot he put his hand to his damp 
 brow, and peered into the cabin. 
 
 In a moment his blood froze. A hoarse cry broke 
 from him. 
 
 For there — straight ahead — a white face with strain- 
 ing eyes stared into his own ! 
 
 And then he saw it was but his own reflection in a 
 patch of mirror stuck into the panel opposite. 
 
 But the shock of that pallid mask confronting him 
 had already unnerved him utterly. 
 
 He drew his eyes away, glanced around, and spied 
 a black portmanteau propped beside a packing-case in 
 the angle made by the wall and the flooring. In mad 
 haste to reach the open air, but dimly remembering 
 Geraldine's caution, he grasped the handles, flung a look 
 behind him, and clambered up the ladder again, aud out 
 upon deck. 
 
228 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 The worst was over ; but lie could not rest until 
 again in his boat. As he untied the painter, he noticed 
 the ray of his lantern dancing wildly up and down the 
 opposite bank with the shaking of his hand. Cursing 
 his forgetfulness, he turned the slide, slipped the 
 lantern into his pocket, and, lowering himself gently 
 with the portmanteau, dropped, seized the paddles, and 
 rowed away as for dear life. 
 
 He had put three boat's lengths between him and 
 the hull, and was drawing a sigh of relief, when a voice 
 hailed him, and then 
 
 A tongue of flame leapt out, and a loud report rang 
 forth upon the night. He heard something whistle by 
 his ear. Catching up the paddles again, he pulled 
 madly oub of the creek, and away for the opposite 
 bank of the river ; ran his boat in ; and, seizing the 
 portmanteau, without attempt to ship the oars or fasten 
 the painter, leapt out ; climbed, slipped, and staggered 
 over the slippery stones ; and fled up the hill as though 
 a thousand fiends were at his heels. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THAT A SILVER BULLET HAS VIRTUE: WITH A WARNING 
 TO COMMODORES. 
 
 '' Well, sir/^ remarked Caleb at ten o'clock that evening, 
 after an hour's watching had passed and brought no 
 sign of a ghost, ^' I wish this 'ere sperrit, ef sperrit et 
 be, wud put hissel' out to be punkshal. They do say as 
 the Queen must wait while her beer's a-drawin' ; but et 
 strikes me ghost-seein' es apt to be like Boscas'le Fair, 
 which begins twelve an' ends at noon." 
 
 Caleb caressed a huge blunderbuss which lay across 
 his knee, and caused Mr. Fogo no slight apprehension. 
 
 ''Et puts me i' mind," he went on, as his master 
 was silent, " o' th' ould lidden"^ as us used to sing when 
 us was tiny mites : — 
 
 Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me right, 
 
 Where was I last Sat'rday night ? 
 
 I seed a chimp-champ champin' at his bridle, 
 
 I seed an ould fox workin' hissel' idle. 
 
 The trees did shever, an' I did shake, 
 
 To see what a hole tliic' fox did make. 
 
 Now I comes to think 'pon et, 'tes Sat'rday night too ; 
 an' that's odd, as Martha said by her glove." 
 Still Mr. Fogo was silent. 
 
 * A monotonous chant or burthen. 
 
230 TROY TOWN. 
 
 "As for the Llunderbust, sir, there's no call to 
 be afeard. *Tes on'y loaded wi' shot an' a silver shillin'. 
 I heerd tell that over to Tresawsen, wan time, they had 
 purty trouble wi' a lerruppin' big hare, sir. Neither 
 man nor hound cud cotch her ; an' as for bullets, her 
 tuk in bullets like so much ballast. Well, sir, th' ould 
 Squire were out wi' his gun wan day, an' 'way to track 
 thicky hare, roun' an' roun', for up ten mile ; an' the 
 more lead he fired, the better plaised her seemed. 
 ' Darn et ! ' says th' ould Squire at las'. 'Tes witchcraf ; 
 I'll try a silver bullet.' So he pulls out a crown-piece 
 an' hammers 'un into a slug to fit hes gun. He'd 
 no sooner loaded than out pops the hare agen, not 
 twenty yards off, an' right 'cross the path. Th' ould 
 man blazed away, an' this time hit her sure 'nuff : 
 hows'ever, her warn't too badly wounded to nip roun' 
 the knap o' the hill an' out o' sight. ^ I'll ha' 'ee ! ' cries 
 the Squire ; an' va' that pulls hot foot roun' the hill. An* 
 there, sir, clucked in under a bit o' rock, an' pantin' for 
 dear life, were ould Mally Skegg. I tell 'ee, sir, the 
 Squire made no more to-do, but 'way to run, an' niver 
 stopped till he were safe home to Tresawsen. That's so« 
 Mally were a witch, like her mother afore her ; an' the 
 best proof es, her wore a limp arter this to the day o' her 
 death." 
 
 Mr. Fogo aroused himself from his abstraction to 
 ask — 
 
 " Do you seriously believe it was a ghost that I saw 
 last night?" 
 
THE commodore's puogress. 231 
 
 '' That's as may be. E£ 'taint, 'tes folks as has no 
 bus'ness hereabouts. I've heerd tell as you'm vvi'in 
 the law ef you hails mun dree times afore firin'. That's 
 what I means to do, anyway. As for ghostcs, I do 
 believe, an' I don't believe." 
 
 '^What? That a man's spirit comes back after 
 death to trouble folks ? " 
 
 " I dunno ''bout sperrit : but I heerd a tale wance 
 'bout a man''s remains as gi'ed a peck o' trouble arter 
 death. ■'Twas ould Commodore Trounce as the remains 
 belonged to, an' 'tes a queer yarn, ef you niver heerd et 
 afore."" 
 
 Caleb looked at his master. Mr. Togo had not yet 
 told the story of his call at ' Tlie Bower ; ' but Caleb 
 saw that he was suffering, and had planned this story 
 as a diversion. 
 
 The bait took. Mr. Fogo looked up expectant, and 
 lit a fresh pipe. So Caleb settled himself in his corner 
 of the window-seat, and, still keeping an eye on the old 
 schooner, began — 
 
 '^The Commodore's Progress. 
 
 " You've heerd me spake, sir, o' Joe Bonaday, him 
 as made poetry 'long wi' me wan time when lying be- 
 calmed off Ilfrycombe ? " 
 
 '' Certainly." 
 
 " Well, this Joe were a Barnstaple man, bred an' 
 born. But he had a brother — Sam were hes name — as 
 came an' settled out Came way ; ^ Ould These-an'- 
 
232 TKOY TOWN. 
 
 Thicky/ us used to call ^n. Sam was a crowder,* you 
 must knaw, an' used to play the fiddle over to Tregarriek 
 Fair; but lie cudn' niver play moreen two tunes. 
 * Whicli '11 'ee ha'/ he used to say^ ' which '11 'ee ha' — 
 these or thicky ? ' That's why, tho' he was chris'ned 
 Sam, us used to call 'n These-an'-Thicky for short" 
 
 " I see." 
 
 '' This 'ere Sam Bonaday, tho' he came an' settled 
 down i' these parts, was a bettermost body i' some ways, 
 an' had a-seen a heap o' life 'long wi' ould Commodore 
 Trounce. Sam was teetotum to the Commodore, an* 
 acted currier when th' ould man travelled, which he did 
 a brave bit — brushin' hes clothes, an' shinin' hes boots, 
 an' takin' the tickets, an' the res'. The Commodore 
 were mighty fond o' Sam : an' as for Sam, he used to 
 say he mou't ha' been the Commodore's brother — on'y, 
 you see, he warn't." 
 
 ^' I think I understand," said Mr. Fogo. 
 
 ^^Iss, sir. "Well, t'ward the end o' hes days the 
 Commodore were stashuned out at Gibraltar, an' o' 
 cou'se takes Sam. He'd a-been ailin' for a tidy spell, 
 had the Commodore, an' I reckon that place finished 
 *un ; for he hadn' been there a month afore he tuk a 
 chill, an' purty soon Sam saw 'twas on'y a matter o' 
 time afore th' ould man wud go dead. 
 
 " Sam kep' hes maaster goin' 'pon brandy an' milk 
 for a while ; but wan day he comes in an' finds 'un 
 settin' up in bed an' starin'. The Commodore was a 
 * A fiddler. 
 
SWEET HOME. 233 
 
 little ipvLvgy* bustiousf sort o' maiij sir, wi' a squinny 
 eye an' mottles ^pon hes face, pretty near so thick as 
 the Milky Way ; an' he skeered Sam a bit, setting up 
 there an' glazin'. 
 
 '^ Th' ould man had no more sproilj nor a babby, an' 
 had pretty nigh lost hes mouth-speech, but he beckons 
 Sam to the bed, and whispers — 
 
 " ' Sam, youVe a-been a gude sarvent to me/ 
 
 " ' Gude maasters makes gude sarvents/ says Sam, 
 an' falls to cryin' bitterly. 
 
 '^ ' You'm down i' my will/ says the Commodore, 
 'so you've no call to take on so. But look 'ee here, 
 Sam j there's wan thing more I wants 'ee to do for your 
 ould maaster. I've a-been a Wanderin' Jewel all my 
 life/ says he, ' — a wanderer 'pon the face o' the earth, 
 like— like ' 
 
 " ' Cain,' says Sam. 
 
 " ^ Well, not azackly. Hows'ever, you an' me, Sam, 
 have a-been like Jan Tresize's geese, never happy unless 
 they be where they hain't, an' that's the truth. An' 
 now/ says he, ' I've a-tuk a consait I'd like my old 
 bones to be carr'd home to Carne, an' laid to rest 'long 
 wi' my haveage.§ All the Trounces have a-been berried 
 in Carne Churchyard, Sam, an' I'm thinkin' I'd like 
 to go back to mun, like the Prodigious Son. So what I 
 wants 'ee to do es this : — When I be dead an' gone, you 
 mus' get a handy box made, so's I shall carry aisy, an' 
 
 * Thick-set. f Stout. 
 
 X strength. § Km, 
 
234) TROY TOWN. 
 
 take me back to England. You^ll find plenty o^ money 
 for the way i^ the skivet^ o' my chest there, i' the 
 corner.' 
 
 " ' 'Tes a brave long way from here to England/ says 
 Sam. 
 
 '^'I knaws what you be thinkin' 'bout/ says the 
 Commodore. *You'm reckonin I'll spile on the way. 
 But I don't mean 'ee to go by say. You mus' take me 
 'cross the bay an' then ship aboard a train, as '11 take 
 ee dro' Seville, an' Madrid, an' Paris, to Dover. 'Tes 
 a fast train,' says he, ^ as trains go i' these parts ; but 
 I'm doubtin' ef et starts ivery day or only dree times a 
 week. I reckon, tho', ef you finds out, I can manage 
 so's my dyin' shan't interfere wi' that.' 
 
 '^Well, Sam was forced to promise, an' the Com- 
 modore seemed mighty relieved, an' lay still while Sam 
 read to 'n out o' the books that th 'ould man had by 'un. 
 There was the Bible, an' the Pellican's Pragress, an' 
 Philip Quarles, an' Hannah Snell, the female sodger. 
 Sam read a bit from each, an' when he comes to that 
 part about Christ'n crossing the river, th' ould man 
 sets up sudden an' calls, ^ Land, Sam, land ! Fetch a 
 glass, lad ! ' — just like that, sir ; an' wi' that falls back 
 dead. 
 
 ''Well, sir, Sam was 'most out o' hes wits, fust 
 
 along, for grief to lose hes maaster ; but he warn't the 
 
 man to go back 'pon hes word. So he loses no time, 
 
 but, bein' a handy man, rigs up a wooden chest wi' the 
 
 * A concealed compartment or drawer. 
 
THE PATH OF DUTY. 235 
 
 help o' a ship's carpenter, an' a tin case to slip into 
 this, an' dresses up the Commodore inside, an' nails 'un 
 down proper ; an' wi' in twenty-four hours puts across 
 in a boat, ^long wi' hes charge, for to catch the train. 
 
 '^ He hadn' barely set foot on shore, an' was givin' 
 orders about carryin' the chest up to the stashun, an' 
 thinkin"* 'pon the hollerness o' earthly ways, as was 
 nat^-al, when up steps a chap in highly-colour'd 
 breeches an' axes ''un ef he'd anything to declare. 
 
 " Sam had disremembered all 'bout the Customs, 
 you see, sir. 
 
 " Hows'ever, et mou't ha' been all right, on'y Sara, 
 though he could tackle the lingo a bit — just enough to 
 get along wi' on a journey, that es — sudd'nly found that 
 he disknowledged the Spanish for ' corpse.' He found 
 out, sir, afore the day was out ; but just now he looks 
 at the chap i' the colour'd breeches and says — 
 
 "'No, IhaVt.^ 
 
 '' ' What's i' that box ? ' says the chap. 
 
 " Now this was azackly what Sam cudn' tell 'un ; 
 80, for lack of anything better, he says — 
 
 " ' What's that to you ? ' 
 
 '' ' I reckon I must ha' that chest open,' says the 
 chap. 
 
 '^ ' I reckon you'll be sorry ef you do,' says Sam. 
 
 " ' Tell me what's inside, then.' 
 
 « < Why, darn your Spanish eyes ! ' cries Sam, 
 ' can't 'ee see I be try in' to think 'pon the word for 
 corpse ? ' 
 
236 TROY TOWN. 
 
 " But the chap cudn', of course; so he called another 
 in breeches just as gay as hes own, on'y stripier ; and 
 then for up ten minutes 'twas Dover to pay, all talkers 
 an' no listeners. I reckon -'twas as Sal said to the 
 Frenchman, ' The less you talks, the better I under- 
 stands 'ee/ But Sam's blud were up by this time. 
 Hows'ever, nat'rally he was forced to gi'e way, and 
 they tuk the box into the Custom House, an' sent for 
 hammer an' screw-driver. 
 
 '^ ^ Seems to me,' says the chap, prizin' the lid open 
 a bit, an' sniffin', ^ et smells oncommon like sperrits.' 
 
 "Tm thinkin',' says Sam, ^ q^ you'd been kep' goin' 
 on brandy-an'-milk for a week an' more, you'^d smell 
 like sperrits.' 
 
 '^ ' I guess 'tes sperrits/ says wan. 
 
 '^ ^ Or 'baccy,' says anuther. 
 
 '^ ' Or furrin fruits,' says a third. 
 
 " ^ Well, you'm wrong,' says Sam, ' 'cos 'tes a plain 
 British Commodore ; an' I reckon ef you taxes that sort 
 o' import, you dunno what's good for 'ee.' 
 
 ^' At las', sir, they prizes open the chest an' the tin 
 case, an' there, o' cou'se, lay th' ould man, sleepin' an' 
 smilin' so paiceful-like he looked ha'f a Commodore an' 
 ha'f a cherry-bun." 
 
 " I suppose you mean * cherubim/ Caleb ? " corrected 
 Mr. Fogo. 
 
 "I s'pose I do, sir; tho' I reckon th' ould man 
 seemed happier than he were, havin' been a 'nation 
 scamp in hes young days, an' able to swear to the las' 
 
THE TRAIN PULLS UP. 237 
 
 bo's t'wud pretty nigh fetch the mortar out'n a brick 
 wall. Hows'ever, that^s not to the p^int here. 
 
 '^Aw, sir, you may fancy how them poor ign'rant 
 furriners left that Custom House. Sam told me arter- 
 wards 'twere like shellin' peas — spakin' in pinafores — " 
 
 " Metaphors/' said Mr. Togo. 
 
 '' That's et — met-afores. Anyway, they jest fetched 
 a yell, an' then wenty sir. I guess Sam knawed the 
 Spanish for ^ corpse ' afore they was gone. In less 'n a 
 minnit not a pair o' coloured breeches cud you find, not ef 
 you wanted them fancy articles ever so. Sam chuckles 
 a bit to hissel', fastens down the lid so well as he cud, 
 h'ists the Commodore aboard a wheelbarrer, an' trundles 
 'un off to the train. 
 
 " He cotches the train jest as 'twere startin', an* 
 sails away in a fust-class carr'ge all to hissel', wi' the 
 Commodore laid 'long the seat opposite; 'for,' said 
 Sam, ' drat expense when a f un'raPs goin' I ' An' all 
 the way he chuckles an' grins to hissel', to think o' the 
 start heM gi'ed they Custom House rascals ; an' at las' 
 he gets that tickled he's bound to lie back an' fairly hurt 
 hissel' wi' laffin\ 
 
 '^ I reckon, tho', he laffed a bit too early ; for jest 
 then the train slowed down, an' pulled up at a stashun. 
 Sam looked out an' saw a dapper little man a-bustlin' 
 up an' down the platform, hke a bee in a bottle, an' 
 pryin' into the carr'ge-windeys same as ef the train 
 were a peep-show. Presently he opens the door o* 
 Sam's compartment, an' axes, holdin' up a tellygram — • 
 
238 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 ''^Be you the party as es travellin' wi' a dead 
 man?' 
 
 '^He spoke i' Spanisli, o' cou'se^ sir; but, not 
 knowin' the tongue, I tells et to you in English." 
 
 *' I had guessed that to be the reason," replied Mr. 
 Fogo. 
 
 ^' Well, Sam were a bit tuk aback, but he answers — 
 
 '' ' Iss, I be. Why ? ' 
 
 " ^ Want ^un berried ? ' 
 
 *' ^ Why, no, not particular. Sooner or later, o' 
 course ; but, thank ^ee all the same, Vxn. thinkin^ to do 
 et a bit furder on."* 
 
 '^ ^ Then,'' says the dapper man, ' 1^11 trouble you to 
 hand over the berryin^-fees for this parish.-* 
 
 " ^ But I bain^t goin' to berry deceased i* this 
 parish.^ 
 
 '^ ^ That don't matter. E£ a corpse has use o* this 
 parish, he's got to pay fees.' 
 
 *'^ How's that?' 
 
 " ' Why, a corpse es dead,' says the chap ; *" you'll 
 allow that, I s'pose ? ' 
 
 '^ ' Iss,' says Sam, ' I reckon I'll allow that.* 
 
 '^ ^ An' e£ a corpse es i' this parish, he's dead i* this 
 parish ? ' 
 
 '' ' Likely he es,* admits Sam. 
 
 " ' Well, 'cordin' to law, anybody dead i' this parish 
 es boun' to be berried i' this parish, an' therefore to pay 
 fees,' says the man ; ^ and now I hopes you'll hand over 
 the money, 'cos the train's waitin'.' 
 
FEES. a39 
 
 "Sam was for raisin* a rumpus, an* gathered a crowd 
 roun' the door ; but they all sided wi' the dapper man, 
 and said ^twas Spaniards' law, an' ef he wudn^ pay, he 
 must get out an' berry the Commodore there an' then. 
 So he gi'ed in an' pulled out the money, an' off they 
 starts, the dapper man standin' an' bowin' 'pon the plat- 
 form. 
 
 "Well, Sam leant back an' ciphered et out, an* 
 cudn' see the sense o't. ' But,' says he, * when you'm in 
 Turkey, you do as the Turkeys do, 'cordin' to the pro- 
 verb, so I guess 'tes all right ; an' ef et 'pears wrong, 
 'tes on'y that I hain't used to travellin' wi^ corpses ; ' 
 an' wi' that he settles down an' goes to sleep. 
 
 " He hadn' been sleepin' long when the train pulls 
 up agen, an' arter a minnit in comes anuther chap wi' 
 a tellygram. 
 
 " ' Deceased ? * axes the chap, pointin* to the chest. 
 
 " ' Mod'rately,' says Sam. 
 
 " ' Wants berryin' p'raps ? ^ says the chap. 
 
 " ' I reckon he'll hold on a bit longer.' 
 
 "^ Next parish, likely?* 
 
 " ' Why, iss,* says Sam, 'or next arter that.* 
 
 " ' Ah, what et es to be rich ! ' says the man, kind o' 
 envious-like. 
 
 " ' What do 'ee mean by that ? ' Sam axes. 
 
 " ' Niver mind,' answers the man. ' 'Twarn't no 
 bus'ness o' mines. Wud 'ee kindly hand me the fees 
 for this parish ? ' 
 
 " Well, Sam argeys the matter agen, but i' th* end 
 
240 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 he pays up; *ThoV says he, 'I'd a notion travellin' viere 
 costly afore tliis, but dam me ! youVe got to be dead 
 afore you sizes et. I've heerd as a man can't take 
 nuthin' out o' this world, but blest ef I iver got the 
 grip o' that tex' till I travelled i' Spain.' 
 
 "Well, sir, purty soon the same thing happened 
 agen, an', to shorten the yarn, ivery time they got into 
 a new parish an' pulled up, in walked a chap wi* a telly- 
 gram an' axed for berryin'-fees. Luckily, there was 
 money to pay mun, for the Commodore had left a 
 bravish sum for travellin' expenses, and by-'m-by Sam 
 begins to take a sort o' pride in pullin' out hes 
 purse. 
 
 " ' Talk 'bout fun'rals ! * says he, ' I reckon this es 
 suthin' like, Adm'ral Nelson! why, Adm'ral Nelson 
 didn' cost ha'f so much ! An' you ain't but a Commo- 
 dore,' says he. ' Devil fly away wi' 'ee, maaster, but so 
 long as the coin lasts, Sam won't cry '' Woa ! ' " 
 
 "The words warn't fairly out o' hes mouth, sir, 
 when the train draws up, an' in steps anuther man. 
 He comed in so quiet that Sam didn' see 'un at fust; 
 but when he turned roun', there was the man standin^ 
 an^ starin' at 'un. 'Twas a strange-looking party, 
 dressed i' black— a better-most body, like. 
 " ' Aw ! good-eveling,' says Sam. 
 " ' Good eveling,' says the man i' black, an' nods 
 t'wards the chest. ' How's deceased ? ' 
 
 "'Gettin' a bit costly,' answers Sam, 'but doin' 
 purty well, consederin'. You'm wantin' more fees, I 
 
"suthin' like a fun'eal!" 241 
 
 reckon ; ' an' wi' that he dives hes hand into hes trowsy* 
 pocket. 
 
 " ' I don't want no fees/ says the man. 
 
 " Sam was knacked ''pon a heap wi' this. 
 
 ''^Well^ then, you^m the fust man I've a-met in 
 Spain as doesn',' he says. 
 
 '^ ^ That ain't onlikely/ says the man ; and Sam 
 noticed for the fust time that he'd a- been speakin' 
 English all along. ' I be a-travellin', same as you/ he 
 adds. 
 
 " ' You'll 'scuse me, sir, but this compartment es 
 resarved.' 
 
 '' ' That's a pity/ says the stranger, * 'cos the train's 
 a-started.' 
 
 " So t'was. Sam hadn* a-noticed et, but they was 
 movin' on. Hows'ever, he detarmined to make the best 
 o't; so he ups and says, perlite-like — 
 
 " ' Terrable hot weather this, ain't et, sir ? ' Some- 
 how et seemed to Sam as ef et had got hotter sence 
 the stranger comed in. 
 
 " ' I don't feel so mighty hot/ says the man. ' But 
 there, I've a-been a gude deal in hot countries. How's 
 deceased takin' the journey ? ' says he. 
 
 " ' He ain't complainin' ; but, then, in life he warn't 
 a complainin' sort. Aw', sir, but a man must be over- 
 nice ef a fun'ral like thes don't satisfy 'n. Phew I but 
 'tes awful I ' 
 
 "'What's awful? 
 
 '"The heat,' answers Sam, moppin* his forehead; 
 Q 
 
242 TROY TOWN. 
 
 ^but I s'pose you'm a traveller an' 'customed to 
 heat.' 
 
 " ' Why, iss,' says t'other, ' I do travel a purty passel 
 to an' fro 'pon th' earth. Few folks travels more'n me.' 
 
 " Well, et kep' gettin' hotter an hotter ; an' Sam 
 cussed an mopped, an' mopped an' cussed, an' all the 
 time the stranger were cool an' aisy. He kep' axin', 
 too, 'bout th' ould Commodore an' hes pas' life, an' 
 pearerd to take interes' in Sam, an' altogither seemed a 
 proper gen'l'm'n. An' all the time et kep' gettin' 
 hotter an' hotter, till Sam were fairly runnin' to waste 
 wi' sweatin'. At las' he pops hes head out'n the windey 
 for fresh air, an' cries out — 
 
 ^' ' Hulloa ! here's a stashun.' 
 
 ''Well, the train pulls up, an' says Sam to the 
 stranger — 
 
 " ' Look 'ee here. Wud 'ee mind keepin' your eye 
 'pon th' ould man while I runs out to get a drink ? I 
 reckoned I knawed thirst afore this,' he says, ' but 1 
 were mistook.' 
 
 '' The stranger was very willin', and away Sam goes. 
 
 '^ He warn't away more'n a minnit j but when he 
 comes back an' takes a look at the platform, my ! sir, 
 there warn't no trace o' the train to be seen—- not a vest- 
 ment. You see, they don't blaw no whissle in Spain 
 when the train goes; an' there was poor Sam left 
 stranded. 
 
 " Well, he tellygraf s o' cou'se to the nex' stashun, 
 an' in less 'n an hour back comes an answer to say as 
 
"a light that never was — " 243 
 
 they searched the train when et stopped, an' there 
 warn't no corpse there, nor chest, nor nuthin'. An' ef 
 you'll believe me, sir," concluded Caleb, bending for- 
 ward and touching his master's knee, ^^ th' ould Com- 
 modore ha'n't niver been found fro' that day to this. Et 
 most broke Sam's heart; an', as he said to me wan time, 
 ' For all I knaws 'twas the devil ; and for all I knaws 
 th'ould maaster be travellin' roun' Spain to this day; 
 but ef so,' says he, ' I reckon by this time he's like Patty 
 Ward's pig — no lavender.' " 
 
 "That's a very curious tale,'' said Mr. Fogo, as 
 Caleb leant back in the window-seat and awaited its 
 effect. 
 
 " 'Tes so true, sir, as I'm here — or so Sam used to 
 say. An' the moral goes agen talkin' lightly o' what a 
 man don't understand," he added reflectively. "But 
 forebodin' es so bad as witch-craf, an' 'tes more'n likely 
 they won't come to-night ; but if they does, 'tes on'y 
 fair to ax mun who they be dree times afore firin'. 
 What's fair for man es fair " 
 
 He broke off and clutched his master by the arm. 
 
 " Look, sir — look ! '■* 
 
 About the deck of the old schooner a shaft of li^ht 
 was dancing fitfully — now here, now there, up and down 
 — and all without visible source or guidance. 
 
 The two watchers leapt to their feet and peered out 
 at the window. 
 
 The strauge brilliance flickered to and fro^ falling 
 
244 TROT TOWN. 
 
 even on the further bank, and threading with a line of 
 yellow the silver-grey of the moonlight. Then it 
 ceased suddenly. 
 
 Caleb and his master waited breathlessly. Half a 
 minute passed without further sign. Then they heard 
 a light splash or two, and Mr. Togo pointed frantically 
 at the line of the moon's reflection on the creek. 
 
 '' There ! Look— the boat ! '' 
 
 Caleb whipped the blunderbuss up to his shoulder 
 and shouted — 
 
 " Who be 'ee ? Darn ^ee, here goes — wan, two, dree, 
 all to wanst ! ^' 
 
 He pulled the trigger. A tongue of flame leapt 
 forth and burst upon the night with a terrific explosion; 
 and as Caleb fell backwards with the shock, the 
 clumsy engine slipped from his fingers and fell with a 
 clatter upon Mr. Fogo's instep. 
 
 When the pair recovered and looked forth again, the 
 echoes had died away, and once more the night was 
 tranquili 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 HOW CERTAIN CHARACTERS FOUND THEMSELVES, AT DEAD 
 OP NIGHTj UPON THE FIVE LANES ROAD. 
 
 Panting, slipping, with aching sides, but terror at his 
 heels, Sam Buzza tore up the hill. Lights danced 
 before him, imaginary voices shouted after; hut he 
 never glanced behind. The portmanteau was mon- 
 strously heavy, and more than once he almost dropped 
 it j but it was tightly packed, apparently, for nothing 
 shook inside it. Only the handles creaked in his grasp. 
 
 He gained the top, shifted the load to his left hand, 
 and raced down the other side of the hill. How he 
 reached the bottom he cannot clearly call to mind ; but 
 he dug his heels well into the turf, and arrived without 
 a fall. At the foot of the slope a wire fence had to be 
 crossed; next the railway line; then, across the em- 
 bankment, another fence, which kept a shred of his 
 elothing. A meadow followed, and then he dropped 
 over the hedge into the high-road. 
 
 Here he stopped, set down the portmanteau, and 
 looked about him. AU was quiet. So vivid was the 
 moonlight that as looking down the road he could mark 
 every bush, every tuft of grass almost, on the illumined 
 side. Not a soul was in sight. 
 
M6 TROY TOWN. 
 
 The night was warm, and his flight had heated him 
 intolerably. He felt for his handkerchief to mop his 
 brow, but snatched his hand away. 
 
 His coat was burning. It was the lantern. Like 
 a fool he had forgotten to blow it out, and an abomin- 
 able smell of oil and burning cloth now arose from his 
 pocket. He stifled the smouldering fire, pulled out the 
 lantern, and looked at his watch. 
 
 It wanted twenty minutes to eleven. 
 
 He had plenty of time ; so, having extinguished the 
 lantern, and bestowed it in another pocket, he caught 
 up his burden and began to walk up the road at a 
 leisurely pace. 
 
 His terrors had cooled, but nevertheless he wished 
 himself well out of the scrape. The report of the gun 
 still rang in his ears, and in fancy he could hear again 
 the buzz of that bullet by his ear. More than once a 
 shadow lying across the white road gave him a twinge 
 of fear ; and when a placid cow poked its nose over the 
 hedge above him, and lowed confidentially, he leapt 
 almost out of his skin. 
 
 The task before him, too, gave him no small 
 anxiety. The directions in the letter were plain enough, 
 but not so the intention of Mrs. Goodwyn- Sandys. 
 Did she mean him to elope with her ? He did not care 
 to face the question. The Admiral, though an indul- 
 gent father, was not extravagant; and Sam had but 
 seven-and- sixpence in his pocket. This was an excellent 
 sum for long whist at threepenny points, but would 
 
SAM DOES NOT LIKE HIS ERRAND. 247 
 
 hardly defray the cost of an elopement. Besides, he 
 did not want to elope. 
 
 '^ No words of mine will repay you/^ Now he came 
 to consider, these words wore an awkward look. Good 
 Heavens ! he had a mind to drop the portmanteau and 
 run home. What had he done to be tempted so ? And 
 why had these people ever come to Troy ? 
 
 Ah ! Sara, that was the question we should have 
 asked ourselves months ago. Some time before, at a 
 concert in the Town Hall, I remember that Mr, 
 Moggridge sang the line — 
 
 " Too late the balm when the heart is broke ! " 
 
 And a Trojan voice at the back assented — 
 
 " A durn sight.''"' 
 
 Why had we been denied that perspicacity now ? 
 
 So with a heavy burden, and heavier conscience 
 (both of Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys* packing), he trudged 
 forward, kicking up clouds of dust that sparkled in the 
 moonlight. Presently the ascent grew more gradual, 
 the hedges lower, and over their tops he could feel the 
 upland air breathing coolly from the sea. And now the 
 sign-post hove in sight, and the cross-roads stretching 
 whitely into distance. 
 
 If we take the town of Troy as a base, lying north 
 and south, this sign-post forms the apex of a triangle 
 which has two high-roads for its remaining sides — the 
 one road entering Troy from the north by the hill 
 which Sam had just ascended, the other running south- 
 
248 TROY TOWN. 
 
 wards and ending witli a steep declivity at no great 
 distance from ' The Bower/ 
 
 It was by this southern road, of course^ that Mrs. 
 Good wyn- Sandys would come. Sam looked along it, 
 but all as yet was silent. He pulled out his watch 
 again, and, finding that he had still twenty minutes to 
 spare, set down his load at the foot of the sign-post, 
 and began to walk to and fro. 
 
 So gloomy were his reflections that, to soothe his 
 nerves, he pulled out a cigar, lit it, and then, for lack 
 of anything better to do, rekindled his lantern, and 
 resumed his walk. 
 
 The cigar was barely half smoked when he heard a 
 noise in the distance. 
 
 Yes, there was no doubt. It was the sound of 
 horses. Sam caught up the portmanteau, and stared 
 down the highway. For a full minute he listened to 
 the advancing clatter, and presently, around an angle of 
 the road, a chaise and pair broke into view, and came 
 up at a gallop. 
 
 Sam advanced a step or two : a white handkerchief 
 was thrust out at the window, and the driver pulled up 
 suddenly. Then the face of Mrs. Good wyn- Sandys 
 looked anxiously out. 
 
 ^^ Ah ! you are there,'^ she exclaimed with a little 
 cry of relief. '' I have been so afraid. Have you got 
 it?'^ 
 
 In the moonlight, and that pretty air of timidity on 
 her face, she was more ravishing than ever. Her voice 
 
**I HEAR THE SOUND OF COACHES." 249 
 
 called as a siren's ; her eyes drew Sam irresistibly. In 
 a second all his fears, doubts, scruples, were flung to the 
 winds. He held up the portmanteau, and advanced to 
 the carriage door, 
 
 ^' Here it is. Geraldine '' 
 
 '^ Oh ! thanksj thanks. How can I show my 
 thanks ? '' 
 
 The perfume of her hair floated out upon the night 
 with the music of her tone until they both fairly intoxi- 
 cated him. 
 
 He opened the door of the chaise. 
 
 '' Where shall I stow it ? '^ he asked. 
 
 '^ Here, opposite me ; be very careful of it.'' 
 
 In the darkness he saw a huge bundle of rugs piled 
 by Geraldine's side. 
 
 " Where am I to sit ? " he asked, as he bestowed 
 the portmanteau carefully. 
 
 He looked up into her face. The loveliest smile 
 rested on him, for one instant, from those incomparable 
 eyes. She did not answer, but held out her hand with 
 the grace of a maiden confessing her first passion. He 
 seized the ungloved fingers, and kissed them. 
 
 "Geraldine!" 
 
 At this moment a low chuckle issued from the 
 bundle of rugs. Sam dropped the hand, and started 
 back as if stung. A hateful thought flashed upon 
 him. 
 
 " Moggridge ? But no '' 
 
 He seized his lantern^ and turned the slide. A 
 
250 TROY TOWN. 
 
 stream of lig-ht shot into the corner of the chaise, and 
 revealed — the bland face of Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys ! 
 
 There was an instant of blank dismay. Then, with 
 a jieal of laug-hter, Geraldine sank back among the 
 cushions. 
 
 ^^ Good-nighi ! '' said the Honourable Frederic with 
 grim affability ; then, popping his head out at the 
 further window, " Drive on, John ! '' 
 
 The post-boy cracked his whip, the horses sprang 
 forward, and Sam, with that pitiless laugh still pealing 
 in his ears, was left standing on the high-road. 
 
 In the tumult of the moment, beyond a wild sense 
 of injustice, it is my belief that his brain accomplished 
 little. He stared dully after the retreating chaise, until 
 it disappeared in the direction of Five Lanes ; and then 
 he groaned aloud. 
 
 There was a patch of turf, now heavy with dew, be- 
 side the sign-post. Upon this he sat down, and with 
 his elbows on his knees, and head between his hands, 
 strove to still the giddy whirl in his brain. And as his 
 folly and its bitterness found him out, the poor fool 
 rocked himself, and cursed the day when he was born. 
 If any one yet doubt that Mr. Moggridge was an in- 
 spired singer, let him turn to that sublime aspiration in 
 Sopkronia: a Tragedy — 
 
 " Let me be criminal, but never weak ; 
 For weaklings wear the stunted form of sin 
 Without its brave apparel " — 
 
"on such a night as this — " 251 
 
 and consider Sam Buzza as he writhed heneath the 
 sign-post. 
 
 Patjpatjpat / 
 
 It was the muffled sound of footsteps on the dusty 
 road. He looked up. A dark figure^ the figure of a 
 woman, was approaching. Its air of timorous alertness, 
 and its tendency to seek the shadow of the hedge-row, 
 gave him some confidence. He arose, and stepped for- 
 ward into the broad moonlight. 
 
 The woman gave a short gasp and came to a halt, 
 shrinking back against the hedge. Something in her 
 outline struck sharply on Sam's sense, though with a 
 flash of doubt and wonder. She carried a small hand- 
 bag, and wore a thick veil over her face. 
 
 '^ Who are you ? '^ he 'asked gently. " Don't be 
 afraid." 
 
 The woman made no answer — only cowered more 
 closely against the hedge ; and he heard her breath 
 coming hard and fast. Once more — and for the third 
 time that night — Sam pulled the slide of his lantern. 
 
 " Mother ! '' 
 
 *^ Oh I Sam, Sam, don't betray me ! I'll go back 
 — indeed I'll go back ! " 
 
 '' In Heaven's name, mother, what are you doing 
 here?'' 
 
 The retort was obvious, but Mrs. Buzza merely cried — 
 
 " Dear Sam, have pity on me, and take me back ! 
 I'll go quietly — quite quietly." 
 
 The idea of his mother (who weighed eighteen stone 
 
252 TROY TOWN. 
 
 if an ounce) resisting with kicks and struggles might 
 have caused Sam some amusemeutj but his brain was 
 overcrowded already. 
 
 " It^s a judgment/' she went on incoherently, 
 wringing her hands ; " and I thought I had planned it 
 so cleverly. I dressed up his double-bass, Sam, and put 
 it in the bed — oh ! I am a wicked woman — and pinned 
 a note to the pin-cushion to say he had driven me to it, 
 throwing the breakfast-things over the quay-door — real 
 Worcester, Sam, and marked at the bottom of each piece; 
 and a carriage from the Five Lanes Hotel to meet me 
 at twelve o'clock ; but I'd rather go home, Sam ; I've 
 been longing, all the way, to go back ; it's been haunt- 
 ing me, that double-bass, all the time — with my night- 
 cap, too — the one with real lace — on the head of it. 
 Oh ! take me home, Sam. I'm a wicked woman ! " 
 
 Sam, after all, was a Trojan ; and I therefore like to 
 record his graces. He drew his mother's arm within 
 his with much tenderness, kissed her, and began to lead 
 her homewards quietly and without question. 
 
 But the poor soul could not be silent; and so, very 
 soon, the whole story came out. At the mention of 
 Mrs. Groodwyn-Sandys Sam shut his teeth sharply. 
 
 " I shall never be able to face her, Sam." 
 
 " I don't think you need trouble about that, mother," 
 he answered grimly. 
 
 ''But I do. It was she——" 
 
 But at this moment, from the hedge, a few yards in 
 fronts there issued a hollow groan. 
 
"then the lover — " 253 
 
 They halted, and questioned eacli other with fright- 
 ened eyes. 
 
 " Geraldine ! '^ wailed the voice. ''Cruel, perjured 
 Geraldine ! '' 
 
 ''It was going on just like this/^ whispered Mrs. 
 Buzza, " when I came along. I shut my eyes, and ran 
 past as hard as I could ; but my head was so full of 
 voices and cries that I didn't know if 'twas real or only 
 my fancy." 
 
 " Geraldine ! *' continued the voice. " Oh ! dig my 
 grave — my shroud prepare ; for she was false as she was 
 fair. Geraldine, my Geraldine ! '* 
 
 " Moggridge, by all that's holy ! '* cried Sam. 
 It was even so. They advanced a few yards, and to 
 the right of the road, beside a gate, they saw him. The 
 poet reclined limply against the hedge, and with his 
 head propped upon a carpet-bag gazed dolefully into the 
 moon's face. 
 
 " Thou bid'st me,*' he began again, " thou bid'st me 
 think no more about thee ; but, tell me, what is life 
 
 without thee ? A scentless flower, a blighted '* 
 
 At the sound of their footsteps he looked round, 
 stared blankly into Sam's face, and then, snatching up 
 the carpet-bag, leapt to his feet and tore down the road 
 as fast as he could go. 
 
 Sam paused. They had reached the brow of the 
 steeper descent, where the road takes a sudden deter- 
 mination, and plunges abruptly into the valley. Below, 
 the roofs of the little town lay white and sparkling. 
 
254 TROY TOWN. 
 
 and straight from a wreath of vapour the graceful tower 
 of St. Sym^jhorian leapt into the clearer heaven. Be- 
 yond, a network of lights glimmered, like fire-flies, from 
 the vessels at anchor in the harbour. The Penpoodle 
 Hill, on the further shore, wore a tranquil halo ; and to 
 the right, outside the harbour's mouth, the grey sea waa 
 laced with silver. 
 
 " Did you ever see anything more lovely ? *' 
 
 Mrs. Buzza murmured the words with no desire to be 
 answered. It was the old Trojan formula, and there 
 was peace in the sound of it. 
 
 " Do you know,^'' she cried, turning to Sam, ^^ we 
 were very happy before these people came. We shall 
 never be the same again — never. Sam, I feel as if our 
 innocence had ended. Oh ! I am a wicked woman. 
 Look below, Sam dear. I have never thought of it be- 
 fore, but how sweet it would have been to have enclosed 
 the old town in a ring-fence, and lived our days in 
 quiet ! It is too late now ; more will come, and they 
 will build and alter, and no one will be able to stop it. 
 Even if these people should go, it will never be the same 
 aa-ain. Oh ! I am a sinful woman.^' 
 
 Sam looked at his mother. Something familiar, but 
 hitherto half -comprehended, spoke to him in her words. 
 He drew her arm once more within his own, and they 
 descended the hill together. 
 
 Stealing like ghosts into the front hall of No. 2, 
 Alma Villas, they were startled to perceive the 
 
ILION, ilion! 255 
 
 dining-room door ajar_, and a light shining out into the 
 passage. Creeping forward ou tip-toe, they peeped in. 
 
 Beside the table, and with his back towards them, 
 sat the Admiral in his dressing-gown. His right hand 
 grasped the throat of the double-bass, on the top of 
 which nodded Mrs. Buzza^s night-cap. His left fumbled 
 with a large miniature that lay on the table before him 
 — a portrait of Mrs. Buzza, taken in the days when she 
 was still Emily Rogers and the Belle of Portsmouth ; 
 and from this to the instrument and back again the 
 Admiral's gaze wandered, as if painfully comparing the 
 likeness. 
 
 '^ Hornaby ! *' This was the Admiral's Christian 
 name. 
 
 ^^ Emily I'' 
 
 He turned and stared at her stupidly. The look was 
 pitiful. She flung herself before him. 
 
 " Forgive me, Hornaby ! I never thought — I mean, 
 it was all a '''' 
 
 *' Practical joke,'' suggested Sam. 
 
 " No, no. I meant to go, but I have come back. 
 Hornaby, can you forgive me ? " 
 
 He raised her up, and drew her towards him very 
 tenderly. 
 
 ^^I — I thought it had Jcillecl me," he muttered 
 hoarsely. ^' Emily, I have treated you badly." 
 
 Sam discreetly withdrew. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THA.T A VERY LITTLE TEA MAY SUFFICE TO ELEVATE A 
 
 MAN. 
 
 Next moruing Mr. Togo was aroused from sleep by 
 the rattle of breakfast-cups, and the voice of Caleb 
 einging below — 
 
 " O, Amble es a fine tovra, wi' ships in the bay, 
 An' I wish wi' my heart I was on'y there to-day ; 
 I wish wi' my heart I was far away from here, 
 A-sittin' in my parlour, an' a-talkin' to my dear." 
 
 This was Caleb's signal for his master to arise ; and 
 he would pipe out his old sea-staves as long as Mr. Fogo 
 cared to listen. Often, of an evening, the two would 
 sit by the hour^ Caleb trolling lustily with red cheeks, 
 while his master beat time with his pipe-stem, and joined 
 feebly in the chorus — 
 
 " Then 'tes home, dearie, home — O, 'tes home I wants to be ! 
 My tawps'les are h'isted, an' I must out to sea. 
 Then 'tes home, dearie, home ! " 
 
 Mr. Fogo arose and looked forth at the window. 
 The morning was perfect ; the air fresh with dew and 
 the scent of awakening roses. Across the creek the old 
 hull lay as peacefully as ever. 
 
 ^' I will explore it this very morning," thought Mr. 
 Fosfo to himself. 
 
NEXT MORNING. 257 
 
 The resolve was still strong as he descended to 
 breakfast. Caleb was still singing — 
 
 " O, ef et be a lass, she shall wear a goulden ring ; 
 An' ef et be a lad, he shall Hve to sarve hes king ; 
 Wi' hes buckles, an' hes butes, an' hes little jacket blue, 
 He shall walk the quarter-deck, as hes daddy used to do. 
 Then 'tes home " 
 
 "Mornin', sir, an' axin' your pardon for singin' o' 
 Sunday. How be feelin' arter et? — as Grace said to 
 her cheeld when her rubbed in the cough- mixtur' an' 
 made ''un swaller the lineament.^' 
 
 " Do you mean after the ghost ? " 
 
 '^ Iss, sir. There's no dead body about, so ghost et 
 were. I were a-thinkin', wi' your lave, su', I'd go down 
 to Troy to church this mornin' ; I wants to be exercised 
 a bit arter all this witchcraf." 
 
 Mr. Togo wondered at this proposal to go to church 
 for exercise, but readily granted leave. Nor was it 
 until Caleb had departed that " exorcised " occurred to 
 him as a varia lectio. 
 
 Left to himself, Mr. Togo spent a tranquil hour 
 among his roses ; and then, remembering his deter- 
 mination, unmoored his boat and prepared to satisfy his 
 doubts. 
 
 The tide was low — so low that on the further side 
 of the old wreck his paddles plunged once or twice into 
 mud. Nor was it easy to swing hinpself on board ; but 
 a rusty chain helped him^ and after one or two failures 
 he stood upon deck. 
 
258 TROY TOWN. 
 
 AIJ was desolation. He peered down into the hold, 
 where the water lay deep and still ; crawled forward, and 
 peeped through a shattered dead-light into the forecastle. 
 The water was here, too, though it had drained some- 
 what, owing to the depression amidships ; but nothing 
 to explain the mystery. 
 
 Mr. Togo crept aft with better hopes of success, 
 gained the poop, and peered down the companion. The 
 light was too dim to reveal anything. Nothing 
 daunted, he crawled down the ladder and into the 
 captain's cabin. 
 
 The first thing to catch his eye was an empty pack- 
 ing-case, with a heap of shavings and cotton- wool beside 
 it. On the side of the case was printed in blue letters — 
 '^ Wajpshott and So?is. Chicago, Patent Compressed 
 Tea. With Care,*' Mr. Togo poked his nose inside 
 it. A faint smell of tea still lingered about the 
 wood. 
 
 Next he inspected the cupboards. Some were open, 
 and all unlocked. He went over them all. At the end 
 he found himself the richer by — 
 A watch-glass. 
 Three brass buttons (one bearing the initials 
 
 P. J., and all coated with verdigris) . 
 A pair of nut-crackers. 
 
 Several leaves of a devotional work entitled, 
 *' Where shall I be To-morrow ? or, Thoughts 
 for Mariners." 
 A key. 
 
A DISCOVERY. 259 
 
 An oily rag. 
 The cap of a telescope. 
 
 An empty bottle, labelled, and bearing in faded 
 
 ink : '' Poison. For Dick Collins, when his 
 
 leg is bad." 
 
 On the whole this was not encouraging. Mr. Fogo 
 
 was turning to abandon the search, when something 
 
 upon the cabin-floor caught his eye. 
 
 He stooped and picked it up. It was a lady^s glove. 
 Mr. Fogo turned it over in his hand. It was a 
 dainty six-buttoned glove, of a light tan colour, and 
 showed scarcely a trace of wear. 
 
 " This is very odd,^^ muttered he ; "I can hardly 
 fancy a smuggler wearing this, still less a ghost/'' 
 
 With his thoughts still running on the woman he 
 had seen upon the deck, he advanced to the packing- 
 case again, and was beginning absently to kick aside 
 the heap of shavings and cotton-wool, when his foot 
 encountered some hard object. He bent down and 
 drew it forth. 
 
 It was a small tin case or canister, of oblong shape, 
 and measured some four inches by two. It was perhaps 
 two inches in depth. On the cover was a label, and on 
 the label the legend — 
 
 *'WAPSHOTTs' PATENT COMPRESSED TEA. 
 
 Beioare of Imitations/* 
 
 The lid was lightly soldered, and the canister remark- 
 ably heavy. 
 
260 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Mr. Fogo pulled out his pocket-knife, sat down on 
 the edge of the packing-case, and began to open his 
 prize. 
 
 He had broken one blade in trying to unfasten the 
 solder, and was beginning with the second, when it 
 occurred to him to cut through the soft metal of the 
 canister. In a few minutes he had worked a considerable 
 hole in the lid. 
 
 " Very curious tea this," remarked Mr. Fogo. " It^s 
 A deal more like putty — or Californian honey.'''' 
 
 The light in the cabin was faint ; he determined to 
 carry the canister on deck and examine it in the sunlight. 
 
 He picked his way up the ladder, and was just 
 emerging from the hatch, when the sudden glare of the 
 sun caused him to blink and then sneeze. He caught 
 his toe on the last step, stumbled, dropped his prize, and 
 fell forward on to the deck. The canister struck the 
 etep, jolted twice, plunged to the bottom with a smart 
 thud 
 
 There was a flash of jagged flame, a loud roar, a 
 heave and crash of riven timbers — and the old hull had 
 passed from decay to annihilation. 
 
 •X- -x- -x- -x- * 
 
 This would seem a convenient moment for regulating 
 our watches, which have gained considerably, and 
 putting back the hands to half -past ten, at which hour 
 the bells of St. Symphorian's, Troy, began to summon 
 the town to worship. 
 
 A few minutes later the town sallied forth in pairs 
 
" QUOTH HE — * THERE WAS A SHIP.' " 261 
 
 and decorous excitement. It was dying to see Mrs. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys^ costume, and marched churchwards in 
 haste. But to-day it halted for the most part at the 
 church-porch; and went no further. 
 
 Who first whispered the news is disputed. It is 
 conjectured that Mrs. Tripp, whose cow supplied ' The 
 Bower ^ with milk, learnt the facts from the buttoned 
 youth when she paid her professional call at 7.30 a.m. ; 
 but none knew for certain. I might here paint Mrs. 
 Tripp full of tongues, and dress her up as ^' Rumour,^' 
 after the best epic models ; but in saying that she had 
 the usual number of lips and hands, that her parents 
 were respectable, and that she never shrieked from a 
 lofty tower in her life, I only do her the barest justice. 
 
 This much is sure — that among the knot of 
 loungers at the church-gate such sentences as the 
 following passed from mouth to mouth : — 
 
 " Es et true, do 'ee think ? '' 
 
 '^ Certain — carr'ge an' pair from Five Lanes las' 
 night — not a word said.'' 
 
 ^' My ! " 
 
 " Ef so, this town's been purtily robbed." 
 
 " That's a true word.' 
 
 Then this happened— 
 
 The Trojan in broadcloth heard, as he passed, the 
 words of the Trojan in corduroy; inquired, shook his 
 head, and walked on; doubted; turned back to hear 
 more ; consulted his wife ; and decided to go and see. 
 
 The consequence was that at ten minutes to eleven 
 
262 TROY TOWN. 
 
 the stream of churcli-goers descending along the Parade 
 was met by another stream rolling towards ' The 
 Bower ' and every moment gathering volume. As 
 there was no place of worship in this direction, a 
 conference followed the confluence. The church-goers 
 turned, joined the larger stream, and the whole flood 
 poured uphill. 
 
 Outside 'The Bower ^ they halted for a moment. 
 One tradesman, a furniture dealer, bolder than the rest, 
 advanced to the front-door and knocked. 
 
 The boy in buttons answered with a white face. In 
 a moment the truth was out. 
 
 The whisper among the crowd grew to a murmur , 
 the murmur to a roar. In vain the church-bell toiled 
 out the single note that summons the parson. The 
 dismay of the cheated town waxed to hot indignation. 
 Even Miss Limpenny, issuing from her front-door, 
 heard the news, and returned in a stupor to watch 
 matters from her bedroom window. She had not 
 missed a morning service for fourteen yeai's. 
 
 Then as if by one impulse passion gave way to 
 action. Like an invading army the townspeople poured 
 in at the gate, trampling the turf and crushing the 
 flower-beds. They forced the front-door (whence the 
 page fled, to hide in the cellar), pushed into the hall, 
 swarmed into the drawing-room — upstairs — all over the 
 house. 
 
 Only in the bedrooms were there signs of a 
 hasty flight ; but they were enough. The strangers had 
 
* THE BOWER ' IS SACKED. 263 
 
 decamped. There was a pause of indecision^ but for no 
 long time. 
 
 "Sunday or no Sunday/' screamed tli« choleric 
 upholsterer, " every stick of mine will I take off this 
 morning ! " 
 
 He tucked up his sleeves, and, flinging open the 
 French-window of the drawing-room, caught up an 
 arm-chair, and began to drag it out towards the lawn. 
 
 A cheer followed. The Trojan blood was up. 
 
 It was the signal for a general sack. Flinging off 
 his Sunday-coat, each deluded tradesman seized upon 
 his property, or ransacked the house until he found it. 
 The ironmonger caught up his fire-irons, the carpenter 
 pulled down his shelves, the grocer dived into the 
 pantry and emerged with tea and candles. It is said 
 that the coal-merchant — who was a dandy — procured 
 a sack, and with his own hand emptied the coal-cellar 
 within half an hour. 
 
 As each fresh article was confiscated, the crowd 
 cheered anew. 
 
 Never was such a scene in Troy. Even the local 
 aristocracy — the Cumeelfo — mingled with the throng 
 and watched the havoc as curiously as their neighbours. 
 
 No member of the Buzza family was there, nor Mr. 
 Moggridge. But few others did Miss Limpenny fail to 
 perceive as she sat with hands hanging limply and 
 mourned to Lavinia — 
 
 " What disgrace I What a lasting blemish upon our 
 society ! There goes Hancock with the music-stooL 
 
264 TEOY TOYTN. 
 
 To run away just before quarter-day, and they so 
 refined to all appearance, so— — My dear, they will 
 have the house down. Papa told me once that during 
 
 the Bristol riots I declare, there's the Doctor 
 
 looking on ! I wonder how he can!' 
 
 And the poor lady hid her face in her hands. 
 
 By half-past twelve all was over, and ^ The Bower ' 
 stripped of every article of furniture or consumption for 
 which the money was owing. And yet, to the honour 
 of Troy, no single theft or act of wanton destruction 
 was perpetrated. Save for the trampled flowers and 
 marks of dusty boots upon the carpets, the house was 
 left as it stood on the day when Mr. and Mrs. 
 Goodwyn-Sandys arrived. It should be mentioned, 
 perhaps, that Seth Udy's little boy was detected with 
 his fist in a jar of moist sugar; but Mrs. Udy, it 
 was remarked, was a Penpoodle woman. 
 
 The sack was accomplished ; and the crowd, heated 
 but conscious of a duty done, was returning with the 
 spoil, when towards the north a white glare leapt into 
 the heaven and as suddenly vanished. In a moment 
 or so a dull roar followed, and the earth shuddered 
 underfoot. 
 
 Troy trembled. It remembered its neglected 
 Sabbath, and trembled again. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 IN WHICH SEVERAL ATTEMPTS ARE MADE TO PUT A PERIOD 
 TO THIS HISTORY. 
 
 The congregation at St. Sympliorian^s on tliis memor- 
 able Sunday morning numbered nine persons. Pcesibly 
 tbis was the reason why, against all precedent, the 
 Vicar's sermon terminated at ^^ thirdly." 
 
 Woman has been stated so often^ and by such 
 capable observers^ to be more inquisitive than man, 
 that I will content myself with establishing an excep- 
 tion. Of these nine persons, five were women, and the 
 remainder held the salaried posts of organist, organ- 
 blower, pew-opener, and parish-clerk. Of the women, 
 one was Tamsin Dearlova It is noteworthy that 
 Caleb spent his morning at ' The Bower."* 
 
 Service was over, and Tamsin was rowing home" 
 wards. She was alone; for Troy was not the Dearloves' 
 parish, and the Twins attended their own church — being, 
 indeed, churchwardens. As she pulled quietly upwards, 
 a shade of thought rested on her pretty face. I do not 
 know of what she was thinking ; and may add that if I 
 did, I should not tell you. I would as lief rob a church. 
 
 She had passed the jetties, and was pulling her left 
 paddle to turn the corner ofr Kit's House, when a flash 
 crossed the heaven from behind her, and in an instaut 
 
266 TROY TOWN. 
 
 followed that rending explosion which (at different 
 distances) has been twice presented to the reader, and 
 with pardonable pride; for the story of Troy has now 
 a catastrophe as well as episodes,, and is vindicated as a 
 theme. 
 
 As soon as the throbbing of the atmosphere and the 
 buzzing in her ears began to die away, two swift 
 thoughts crossed her brain. Oddly enough, the first 
 was for the safety of Kit's House. She glanced over 
 her shoulder. A mere film of smoke hung over the 
 creek, and to the right of this she saw the house stand- 
 ing, seemingly unharmed. Then came the second 
 thoiaght — 
 
 If the explosion came from the creek, where the light 
 smoke hung, there would be a wave. 
 
 She half turned on the thwart and looked intently. 
 
 Yes. It w^as curling towards her, widening from 
 the creek^s mouth, and arching with a hateful crest. 
 On it came, a dark and glossy wall ; and she knew that 
 if it broke or caught her boat in the least aslant, she 
 must be either swamped or overset. 
 
 With a sound that was half a sob and half a prayer 
 she grasped her paddles and, still looking over her 
 shoulder, gently moved the boat^s nose to face it. 
 
 A moment, and it rose above her, hissing death; 
 another, and the boat was caught high in air, tottered 
 on the summit, and then with a shiver shot swiftly 
 down into the trough beyond — safe. 
 
 A second wave followed, and a third, but with less 
 
PLOTSAM AND JETSAM. 267 
 
 peril. She was still tossed, but as she saw that mass of 
 water hurled upon the shore, and sweeping angrily but 
 with broken force towards the harbour, she knew that 
 she could thank Heaven for her escape. 
 
 She pulled towards the creek. Already the air was 
 clear ; but as she glanced again her eye missed some- 
 thing familiar. And then it struck her that the old 
 schooner had gone. At that instant, as if in confir- 
 mation, a shattered board bumped against the boat's 
 side. She looked, and noticed that far and near the 
 water was strewn with such fragments. 
 
 She was pausing for a second to consider, when 
 she caught sight of a black object lying on the mud 
 beside the shore, and with a short cry fell to rowing 
 with all her strength. She guided the boat as nearly 
 up to it as the mud allowed, and then, catching up her 
 skirts, jumped into the ooze and waded. 
 
 It was Mr. Fogoj but whether dead or alive she 
 could not say. Down on the mud she knelt, and, turning 
 him gently over, looked into his face. It was streaked 
 with slime, and powdered with a yellowish flake, as of 
 sand. His locks were singed most pitifully. She 
 started up, took him by the shoulders, and tried to drag 
 him up to the firmer shingle. 
 
 Mr. Togo opened his eyes and shut them again, 
 feebly. 
 
 ^' Not dead ! Oh ! thank Heaven you are not dead." 
 
 With a sob she dropped again beside him, and 
 brushed the flaked powder from his eye-lashes. 
 
£68 TROY TOWN. 
 
 He opened his eyes again. 
 
 "Would you mind speaking up ? I — I think I am 
 a little deaf/' 
 
 " I thought you were dead/"* she cried, in a louder 
 tone. 
 
 ^^ No-o, I am not dead. Oh ! no ; decidedly I am 
 not dead. It — it was the Tea, I fancy .^' 
 
 He added this apologetically, much as some gentle- 
 men are wont to plead ^' the salmon.''^ 
 
 Apparently believing the explanation sufficient, he 
 shut his eyes again, and seemed inclined to go to 
 sleep. 
 
 " The Tea ? '^ questioned Tamsin, chafing his 
 hands. 
 
 " Or the Honey, perhaps — or the Putty," he 
 answered drowsily. Then, opening his eyes and sitting 
 up with a start, '^ Upon my soul, I don't know which. 
 It called itself Tea, but I'm — bound to — admit ■" 
 
 He was nodding again. Utterly perplexed, Tamsin 
 leant back and regarded him. 
 
 ^' Can you walk, if you lean on my arm ? '^ 
 
 " Walk ? Oh ! yes, I can walk. Why not ? '' 
 
 But it seemed that he was mistaken; for, in 
 attempting to start, he groped about for a bit and 
 then sat down suddenly. Tamsin helped him to his 
 feet. 
 
 The reader has long ago guessed the cause of the 
 catastrophe. It was dynamite — conspirators' dynamite, 
 and therefore ill-prepared. Now dynamite, when it 
 
"it was the tea." 269 
 
 explodes, acts^ we are told, with '^ local partiality ; '^ and 
 of this term we may remark — 
 
 That it is given as au explanation by men of science, 
 Without being a *' scientific " explanation ; 
 But is, in fact, a " metaphysical " explanation, 
 And therefore no explanation at all 
 of 
 The astonishing fact that dynamite hits one thing and does 
 not hit another. 
 
 In the case of Mr. Fogo, his top-hat had vanished, 
 but the brim still clung to his head, like a halo. His 
 spectacles and one boot had gone; the other boot 
 was unlaced. His coat was split up the back, and his 
 collar had broken away, but his tie was barely dis- 
 arranged. He has since declared that he left the 
 schooner with two-and-sixpence in his trowser- pocket, 
 and came ashore with two-and-a-penny ; but this was 
 in an account delivered to a scientific audience, and is 
 thought to have been a joke. 
 
 From head to foot he was besmeared with black mud; 
 for the rotten stern must have parted and fallen with the 
 first touch of the explosion, so that the wave caught him 
 as he toppled out, and flung him at once upon the 
 shallows. But Tamsin^s Sunday frock was already 
 ruined. She made him rest his hand on her shoulder, 
 and so, with one arm thrown round him for steadiness, 
 led him down the beach, and with infinite difficulty got 
 him across the mud and into the boat. 
 
 She managed to push off at last, and pulled mpidly 
 across for Kit^s House. Hitherto Mr. Fogo's condition 
 
270 TROY TOWN. 
 
 had slightly resembled a drunken stupor ; but now he 
 shivered violently and looked about him. 
 
 '' Where am I ? " 
 
 '' Safe and sound, I hope/' 
 
 He passed his hand over his eyes and shivered 
 again. 
 
 ^' I remember. Something — blew up, did it not ? 
 The canister, I think." 
 
 She nodded encouragingly. 
 
 " Where did you come from ? " he asked abruptly, 
 
 " From church." 
 
 '' Oh ! from church. Do you know, I'm very glad 
 to see you — I am, indeed. I hope you'll come often, 
 now that — - - Excuse me," he broke off with a weak 
 smile, ^^ but I fancy I'm talking nonsense." 
 
 She nodded again. 
 
 •^ I am aching all over," he added with a shiver. 
 
 She pulled the boat up to the little quay. ^^ Now I 
 wonder where Caleb is," she said to herself, as she stood 
 up and looked around ; '' but he's like most men, 
 always in the way or out of the way." She turned 
 suddenly with a white face. " Caleb was not with 
 you ? " 
 
 To her hearty relief, Mr. Fogo understood the 
 question and shook his head. She helped him ashore. 
 Though he walked with pain, he made an obvious effort 
 to lighten his weight on her shoulder; and this returning 
 bashfulness was a good sign, she thought. They passed 
 slowly up the steps; at the top he acknowledged her 
 
TAMSIN IS HELPFUL. £71 
 
 help with a grateful look^ but neither spoke until he was 
 seated in a chair by the kitchen fire-place. 
 
 Then she withdrew her attention for a moment to 
 glance round upon the clumsy appliances and masculine 
 untidiness of the place. She noticed that fully half the 
 window-panes had been shattered by the explosion ; but 
 otherwise the house had barely suffered. 
 
 '* Is there any brandy or whiskey in the house ? " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " If you want to drink " he began, but stopped 
 
 hastily and added, " I beg your pardon." 
 
 ^' Is there any tea ? " 
 
 He pointed to the cupboard, but dropped his arm 
 with a groan. She was at his side in a moment. 
 
 '^ Now, listen to me. You are not to stir or speak, 
 but only to nod or shake your head when I ask a 
 question. Do you understand ? " 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "That's right." 
 
 She stepped to the cupboard, produced the tea and a 
 box of matches ; then, stooping down, rekindled the 
 fire with the help of some sticks which she found in the 
 oven, and put the kettle on the flame. This done, she 
 sought and found the tea-things. 
 
 ^^Milk?" she asked. 
 
 He nodded towards a blue jug on the mantel-shelf. 
 
 '' Milk on the mantel-shelf ! That's like a man." 
 
 But at this point the kettle began to boil. She 
 filled the tea-pot, and replaced the kettle on the hob. 
 
272 TROY TOWN. 
 
 As she turned^ she was aware of a clearer look in Mr 
 Fogo's eyes. She smiled and nodded. 
 
 '^ You are better." 
 
 " Much. I can remember it all, after a fashion. 
 Did I talk nonsense ? " 
 
 ^' A little." She smiled again. 
 
 His eyes followed her as she moved about the 
 kitchen. Presently he said — 
 
 '' You are very good to me." 
 
 '' I think I am.'-' 
 
 *' Tamsin '' 
 
 She turned suddenly to the table, and caught up the 
 tea-pot. 
 
 ^' Do you know/^ she asked, " that tea is worthless 
 if it stands for more than five minutes ? " 
 
 She filled a cup, and gave it to him with a hand 
 that trembled slightly. He sipped, and scalded his lip. 
 
 ^^ Tamsin— '' 
 
 "My name is Dearlove,'' she said shortly, ''and 
 you are spilling the tea.'' 
 
 There was silence for a minute or so. Mr. Togo 
 stirred his tea abstractedly. Tamsin, whose shoes were 
 soaked, put one foot upon the fender, and bent her gaze 
 upon the fire. 
 
 " I would give something,^' observed Mr. Togo sud- 
 denly, in desperate reverie, " to know how other people 
 manage it. It was moonlight when I proposed to 
 Geraldine. I began by squeezing her hand, if I 
 remem '' 
 
IN THE porch:. 273 
 
 He looked up^ and found her regarding him with 
 eyes ablaze. 
 
 But luckily at this moment the door opened, and 
 Caleb appeared. He was evidently much agitated; but 
 at sight of Tamsin and the woeful figure in the arm- 
 chair, he halted on the threshold, and stared dumbly. 
 
 "I think/' said Tamsin, ^^you had better put your 
 master to bed.'' 
 
 ^' Mussy 'pon us, what's been doin' ? " 
 
 Briefly she told as much as she knew. With each 
 successive sentence Caleb's mouth and eyes opened 
 wider. 
 
 "And now," she ended, '^as Peter and Paul have 
 been waiting for their dinner this half -hour, I will be 
 going. Don't trouble to come with me ; but attend to 
 your master. Good-morning, sir." 
 
 She dropped him a low curtsey and was gone. He 
 started up. 
 
 " Where be goin', sir ? Sit down ; you'm not tit to 
 stir." 
 
 But Mr. Fogo had passed him, and was out of the 
 room in a moment. In spite of the pain that racked 
 every limb, he overtook Tamsin in the porch. 
 
 '' What are you doing ? " she cried. " Go back to 
 bed." 
 
 As she faced him, he could see that her eyes were 
 full of angry tears. The sight cheeked him. 
 
 ^'It's — it's of no consequence," he stammered, 
 '* only I was going to ask you to be my wife." 
 s 
 
274 TROY TOWN. 
 
 For ansvv^er, she turned on her heel, and walked reso- 
 lutely down the steps. 
 
 Mr. Togo stood and watched her until she disap- 
 peared, and then crawled painfully back into the 
 house. 
 
 '^ An^ now, sir/^ said Caleb, as he helped his master 
 to bed, ^^warnin'' et es. This day month, I goes, 
 unless '^ 
 
 ^^ Unless what, Caleb?'' 
 
 ^^Well, sir, I reckons there be on'y wan way out o't, 
 as the cat said by the sausage-machine, an^ that es — to 
 marry Tamsin Dearlove."" 
 
 ^' My dear Caleb,'-* groaned Mr. Fogo, " I only wish 
 I could ! But I will try again to-morrow." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 HOW ONE LOYEE, TOOK LEAVE OF HIS WITS, AND TWO 
 CAME TO THEIR SENSES. 
 
 But Mr. Fogo was not to try again on the morrow. 
 
 For Caleb; stealing up in the grey dawn to assure 
 himself that his master was comfortably asleep, found 
 him tossing in a high fever, and rowed down to Troy 
 for dear life and the Doctor. Returning, he found that 
 the fever had become delirium. Mr. Fogo, indeed, was 
 sitting up in bed, and rattling off proposals of marriage 
 at the rate of some six a minute, without break or pause. 
 He was very red and earnest, rolled his eyes most 
 strangely, and wandered in his address from Tamsin 
 to Geraldine, and back again with a vehemence that 
 gravelled all logic. 
 
 " Lord ha^ mussy ! " cried Caleb at last. ^' Do ^ee 
 hush, that's a dear. ■'Tes sinful — all these gallons o* 
 true affecshun a-runnin' to waste. YouVn too lovin* 
 by half, as Sam said when hes wife got hugged by a 
 bear. What do 'ee think, sir ? '' 
 
 The last sentence was addressed to the little Doctor, 
 who, after staring at the patient for some minutes 
 without noticeable result, nodded his head, announced 
 that the fever must run its course, and promised to send 
 a capa])le nurse up to Kit's House without delay. 
 
276 TROY TOWN. 
 
 ^' Beggin' your pardon, Doctor/"' interposed Caleb 
 with firmness, " but Vve a-got my orders/' 
 
 '^ I've a-got my orders. Plaise God, an' wi' plenty o* 
 doctor's trade,"^ us'll pull 'un round : but nobody nusses 
 maaster 'ceptin' you an' me — leastways, no woman- 
 kind." 
 
 '^ This is nonsensical." 
 
 '^ Nonsensical, do 'ee say ? Look 'ee here, Doctor ; 
 do'ee think I'd trust a woman up here wi' maaster 
 a-makin' offers o' marriage sixteen to the dozen ? Why, 
 bless 'ee, sir, her'd be down an' ha' the banns called afore 
 night, an' maaster not fit to shake hes head, much less 
 say as the Prayer Books orders — ' I renounce mun all.' 
 That's a woman, Doctor, an' e£ any o' the genteel sex 
 sets foot on Kit's beach I'll — I'll stone her." 
 
 The Doctor gave way in the end and withdrew, 
 promising another visit before evening. "When he re- 
 turned, however, at five in the afternoon, he found, 
 with some wonder, a woman quietly installed in the 
 sick-room. It happened thus : — 
 
 Barely an hour after the Doctor's departure, Caleb, 
 sitting at his master's bedside, heard footsteps on the 
 gravel walk, and looked out of window. 
 
 "Hist!" he called softly; and Peter Dearlove, fol- 
 lowed by Paul, stepped round the angle of the house 
 into sight. The Twins bore a look of the gravest per- 
 plexity and a large market basket. 
 * Medicine. 
 
THE TWINS CALL. 
 
 £77 
 
 '' Hulloa ! " said Caleb, " what's up ? " 
 
 The pair looked at each other. At length Peter 
 began with a serious face and unwonted formality of 
 tone — 
 
 "EsMr. Fogo wi'in?'' 
 
 " Why, iss/-* Caleb allowed, " he's inside/' 
 
 " We was a-wishin' to request o' the pleasure " — 
 here Peter looked at Paul, who nodded — '' the pleasure 
 o' an interval o' five minnits.''' 
 
 ^* Interview," corrected Paul. 
 
 " I misdoubts,^' answered his brother, ^' that you are 
 wrong, Paul. I remember the expresshun 'pon the pro- 
 gramme o' a Sleight o' Hand Entertainment, an' there 
 et said ' Interval ' — ' An Interval o' Five Minnits.' ^' 
 
 ^^ Ef that's so,'' broke in Caleb from above with fine 
 irony, ^^ p'raps you wudn' mind handin' up your visitin' 
 cards an' doin' the thing proper. At present maaster's 
 busy." 
 
 "Busy?" 
 
 ^' Iss. A-makin' proposals o' marriage — which es a 
 serious thing, an' not to be interrupted."" 
 
 The Twins set down the basket and stared at each 
 other. Paul was the first to recover. 
 
 ^' Ef 'tes fully allowable to put the question, Peter 
 an* me wud like to knaw the young leddy's name. 
 Tes makin' bould to ax, but there's a reason." 
 
 '^ Well," said Caleb, disappearing for a moment and 
 then poking his head forth again, "at the present 
 moment 'tes a party answerin' to the name o' Geraldin'. 
 
278 TROY TOWN. 
 
 A minnit a^one 'twas But maybe you'd better 
 
 step up an' see for yoursel'/' 
 
 " What ! '' 
 
 ^^ Step up an' see/^ 
 
 ^^Now^ Peter/'' said the Twin, turning from Caleb 
 to contemplate his brother, '' puttin' the case (an' far be 
 et from me to say et cudn' be) as you was payin' your 
 addresses to a young leddy answerin' to the name o' 
 Geraldin' (which she wudn' be eall'd that, anyway), an' 
 puttin' the case as you was a-making offers o' marriage, 
 an' a pair o' twin-brothers (same as you an' me might be) 
 walked up to the front door an' plumped in afore you'd 
 well finished talkin' o' the weather-prospec's (bein' a slow 
 man, though a sure) — now, what I wants to knaw es, 
 wud 'ee like et yourseF ? '* 
 
 '' No, I shudn'/' 
 
 ^^ Well, I reckon'd not. An' that bein' so, Go^s the 
 word.'' 
 
 ^^ Afore Peter talks 'bout gettin' a wife,'"' broke in 
 Caleb, '^he'd better read 'bout Peter's wife's mother. 
 She was sick wi' a fever, I've heerd, an' so's maaster. 
 Ef you don't believe, walk up an' see ; 'cos 'tain't good 
 for a sick man to ha' all this palaverin' outside hes 
 windey.'''' 
 
 The Twins stared, whispered together, took off their 
 boots, and softly entered the house. At the door of 
 the sick-room Caleb met them. 
 
 ^' Brain fever,'-' he whispered, ^^ which es on'y catch in' 
 for them as has brains to catch et wi\'^ 
 
''tamsin!" 279 
 
 The trio stood together at the foot of the bed on 
 which Mr. Fogo tossed and chattered. Peter and Paul 
 looked from the sick man to their hats, and back again 
 in silence. At length the elder Twin spoke — 
 
 " I' the matter o' behavin' rum, some folks does et 
 wi' cause an' others not so. But I reckons ef you allows 
 as there's likely a cause, you'm 'pon the safe side— ~ 
 *speshully wi' Mr. Fogo. Wherefore, Caleb, what's the 
 meanin' o' this here ? '"' 
 
 "Tamsinr^ 
 
 The answer came so pat from the sick man's lips 
 that Peter fairly jumped. Caleb looked up with finger 
 on lip and a curious smile on his weather-tanned 
 face. 
 
 '^ Don't leave me 1 Look ! There are devils around 
 me — cold white devils — devils with blank faces — no 
 features, only flesh. Look ! Sunday, Monday, Tues- 
 day — every day with a devil, every day in the year — 
 look, look ! '' 
 
 '^ Pore soul ! ^' whispered Paul ; " an' 'tes Leap Year, 
 too, which makes wan extry.^^ 
 
 " Don't leave me, Tamsin — don't leave me ! '"' 
 
 The sick man's voice rose to a scream. Caleb bent 
 forward and tried to soothe him. The mahogany faces 
 of the Twins were blanched. They whispered apart — 
 
 '^ You was right, Peter.''' 
 
 " Aye, more's the pity. I thought the lass misliked 
 *un — the bigger fool I. 'Twas on'y yestiddy I guessed 
 more was troublin' her than her soiled gown^ an' tax'd 
 
280 TROT TOWN. 
 
 her wi' et. We used to pride oursel' on knawin' her 
 wants afore her spoke — an' now " 
 
 Peter weakly concluded with a sigh. 
 
 '^ Bring Tamsin down an' help me here^'' said Caleb, 
 from across the room. 
 
 The pair started. 
 
 *^That es/' he went on, " ei^ she'll come. You 
 heerd maaster ? Well, he said purty much the same to 
 her yestiddy ; so her won't be frightened. Leastways, 
 go an' say you'm comin' yoursel' to help nuss ; 'cos ef 
 you won't I'll nuss 'un alone, an' ef that's the case, 
 you'm a queer pair o' Christians, as the Devil said to the 
 two black pigs.^' 
 
 ^' Fact es,'" hesitated Peter, "I'da-larnt so much las' 
 evenin' from Tamsin, though she were main loth to tell ; 
 an' Paul agreed as we'd call this mornin' an' tell Mr. 
 Fogo as 'twarn't right for 'n to set hes thoughts 'pon 
 Tamsin, who isn' a leddy, nor to put notions in her head 
 as '11 gi'e her pain hereafter. An' that's all 'bout et ; an* 
 us brought a whack o' vegetable produce 'long wi' us, jes' 
 to show there was no ill-feelin's. But as et turns out, 
 neither argyment nor vegetables bein' acceptable to a 
 party that's sick wi' a fever, I be clane floored for what 
 to do.'' 
 
 ''Well, now, I've a- told 'ee. An' don't let the grass 
 grow 'neath your feet, 'cos 'twill grow fast enough over 
 your heads some day." 
 
 The Twins, unable to cope with Caleb's determina- 
 tion^ stole noiselessly out. And thus it was that when. 
 
THE ADMIRAL READS HIS NEWSPAPER. 281 
 
 late in the afternoon, the little Doctor returned, he 
 found Peter and Paul, in large blue aprons, busily help- 
 less downstairs, and Tamsin, bright-eyed and warm of 
 cheek, seated at the sick man's bedside. 
 
 On the following morning, which the reader, should 
 he care to calculate, will find to be Tuesday, Admiral 
 Buzza dropped his newspaper with a start, and glared 
 across the breakfast-table. 
 
 " What is it, my love ? '* inquired his wife. 
 '^ Nothing wrong, I hope ? ^* 
 
 "Wrong? Oh! no,^' replied the Admiral grimly, 
 '' nothing — wrong. Oblige me by listening to this, 
 madam Z"* He took up the paper and read aloud ; — 
 
 "ANOTHER DYNAMITE PLOT! 
 
 " A WHOLE TOWN DECEIVED — EXTRAORDINARY 
 
 PROCEEDINGS. 
 
 "escape OP THE SUSPECTED PERSONS. 
 
 "the DYNAMITE-PIENDS STILL AT LARGE. 
 
 "The existence of another of these atrocious conspiracies 
 aimed at the security of our public buildings and the safety of 
 peaceful citizens, has been brought to light by certain recent 
 occurrences at the romantic little seaport town of Troy. We 
 have reason to believe that the suspicions of the police have been 
 for some time aroused ; and it is to their unaccountable dilatori- 
 ness we owe it that the conspirators have for the time made 
 good their escape, and still continue to menace our lives 
 and property. It appears that some months back a couple, 
 giving the names of the Honourable Mr. and Mrs. Goodwjn- 
 gandys 
 
282 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 [Really, Samuel, if you cannot eat an ordinary egg 
 without clattering tlie spoon in that unseemly manner, 
 I must ask you to suspend your meal until I have 
 finished.] 
 
 appeared at Troy as tenants of one of the most fashionable 
 villa residences in that town. The elite [aliem] of the neigh- 
 bourhood, too easily cajoled [h'm], and little suspecting their 
 villainous designs, received the newcomers with open arms and 
 a lamentable lack of inquisitiveness." 
 
 " Well, really/' put in Mrs. Buzza, " I don^t know 
 
 what they call ' inquisitiveness ; Mf a brass telescope 
 
 Why Sam, dear, how pale you are ! " 
 
 " Through the gross carelessness, we can hardly bring our- 
 selves to say the connivance, of the Custom House officials, they 
 were allowed to land with impunity a considerable quantity of 
 dynamite, with which on Saturday night they decamped. Their 
 disappearance remained unsuspected up to a late hour on Sunday 
 morning, when 'The Bower' was visited, and (to borrow the 
 words of the great master of prose) non sunt inventi. The 
 neatness with which the escape was executed points to the dis- 
 quieting conclusion that they did not want for assistance." 
 
 "V\\ ask you to excuse me," said Sam, rising 
 abruptly and leaving the room. A sick terror possessed 
 his heart ; visions of the dock and the felon's cell fol- 
 lowed him as he picked up his hat and crept into the 
 street. Outside, the morning was serene, with the pro- 
 mise of a broiling noon ; but as far as Sam was con- 
 cerned, Egyptian darkness would have been better. He 
 shivered : at the corner of the street he met the local 
 policeman and winced. 
 
''the poet speaks/* 283 
 
 But £ar^ far worse was it with Mr. Moggridge, to 
 whose lodgings his steps were bending. The Poet, as 
 Sam entered, was seated as nearly as possible on the 
 small of his back before the breakfast-table. If 
 mental anguish can be expressed by unkempt hair 
 and a disordered cravat, that of Mr. Moggridge was 
 extreme ; and the untasted bloater, pushed aside and 
 half concealed by the newspaper, was full of lurid 
 significance. 
 
 Sam paused at the door. The two friends had 
 barely spoken for more than a month. Three days ago 
 they had all but fought. All this, however, was for- 
 gotten now. 
 
 '^ Is that you, Sam ? Come in."" 
 
 Then, having displayed the olive-branch, the Poet 
 waved the newspaper feebly, and groaned. 
 
 ^' Moggridge, old man " 
 
 " Sam ! '' 
 
 " What a pair of asses we have been ! ^^ 
 
 The Poet moaned, and pointed to the paper. 
 
 " I know,^^ nodded Sam ; '' is it true, d'ye 
 think?'-' 
 
 " My heart f orebodes,-*^ said Mr. Moggridge, collaps- 
 ing still further — "my heart forebodes "'tis true, "'tis 
 true ; then deck my shroud about with rue, and lay me 
 'neath the dismal '' 
 
 '' Pooh ! '' broke in Sam ; ^' stuff and nonsense, 
 man 1 It's bad for you, I know, but after all Fm the 
 sufferer.-" 
 
284 * TEOT TOWN. 
 
 The Collector of Customs turned a glassy stare upon 
 him. 
 
 '^ I carried the bag up to Five Lanes ; / put the 
 infernal stuff into her very hands ; / ^' 
 
 ''You?'' 
 
 Sam nodded desperately. ^' She asked me to elope 
 with her — to meet her at Five Lanes.''' 
 
 Mr. Moggridge staggered up to his feet, and 
 fumbled in his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 '' You are mad ! " he gasped. " She asked me to 
 elope with her — me to meet her at the top of Troy Hill. 
 Look here ! " He held out a crumpled letter. Sam 
 took it, glanced at it, produced an exactly similar note, 
 and handed it to his friend. 
 
 They read each the othei-'s letter, sentence by sen- 
 tence, and in doleful antiphon. At the conclusion they 
 looked up, and met each other's gaze; whereat Mr. 
 Moggridge smote his brow and cried — 
 
 '' False, false ! '' 
 While Sam pushed his hands deep into his trouser- 
 pockets and emitted a long breath, as though, 
 his cup being full, he must needs blow off the 
 froth. 
 
 "Do you mean to say," he asked, after a pause, 
 ^' that you helped her to land the stuff ? " 
 
 " I thought it was Tea.'' 
 
 " And you never examined it ? " 
 
 " She told me it was Tea." 
 
 " Moggridge, you have been given away, as the 
 
 I 
 
AWAKENING. 285 
 
 Yankees put it. I have been sold, whicK is bad ; but 
 you have been ' given away/ which is worse." 
 
 " You were sold for ' love/ which is pretty much 
 the same, I take it, as being given away/^ objected the 
 Poet testily. 
 
 ^^ Not at all the same, Moggridge, as being given 
 away — with half a pound of Tea.*' 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 OP THE BEST HELLEBORE; AND AN EXPERIMENT IN THE 
 ENTERTAINMENT OF TWINS. 
 
 For tliree days Mr. Togo continued to propose. On the 
 evening of the third day the little Doctor shook his 
 head. After this, for about a week, Mr. Togo proposed 
 and the Doctor shook his head at intervals. Finally 
 and in the middle of a sentence, the patient fell into a 
 deep slumber. 
 
 When he awoke, it was to the conviction that he, 
 Mr. Fogo, being a bolster, had been robbed of his right- 
 ful stuffing by some person or persons unknown. He 
 had lain for some time pondering this situation with a 
 growing resentment, when he was aware of some one 
 sitting between him and the sunshine. 
 
 <^ Who are you ? '^ he asked. 
 
 " I am Tamsin Dearlove." 
 
 The remark made by Diogenes under somewhat 
 like circumstances would have been ungallant. In the 
 process of searching for a better the sick man fell 
 asleep again. 
 
 What happened on his next return to consciousness 
 shall be given in his own words. He told me the story 
 last autumn : — 
 
MR. FOGO'S STORY. 287 
 
 *' You see/"* he explained shyly, " I have not, my 
 dear young friend, that ingenuity o£ phrase which I so 
 admire in you "'^ (I protest I have not the heart to sup- 
 press this tribute), "but seeing that, in such a case, 
 experience counts for something — and naturally, at 
 your age, you have yet to learn what it is to pro- 
 pose to a woman — I think I had better tell you 
 exactly what happened, the more so as it is a matter 
 which if, as you assure me, necessary to your chronicle, 
 I desire to be related with accuracy. I am not, you 
 understand^ in the least reflecting on your love of truth, 
 but, after all, I didy as the obnoxious phrase has it, 
 ' propose ^ to Tamsin, whereas you — ahem — did not*' 
 
 I am convinced my friend meant to say " would not 
 have had the infernal impudence,^-' but softened the 
 expression, being habitually careful of the feelings of 
 others. 
 
 "When 1 awoke again,^^ he went on, "she was 
 seated in the window, knitting. I lay for a long while 
 watching her — indeed, this is my first impression — before 
 I made any sign. The sunshine — it was morning — fell 
 on her head as she bent over her needles, and emphasised 
 that peculiar bloom of gold which (you may have 
 noticed) her brown locks possess. Her lashes, too, as 
 they drooped upon a cheek pale (as I could perceive) 
 beyond its wont, had a glimmer of the same golden 
 tint. Altogether I thought her more beautiful than I 
 ever imagined; and to this day,'^ he added in an 
 outburst of confidence, " I frequently decoy her to a 
 
288 TROY TOWN. 
 
 seat in the sunlight, that I may taste a renewal of the 
 sensations I enjoyed that morning. Some day, perhaps, 
 you will be better able to sympathise with this caprice. 
 
 " I had been lying thus for some time, luxuriously 
 drinking in her loveliness, when her eyes lifted and met 
 mine. And then — well, I can hardly tell you what 
 happened then, except that I do not believe a word was 
 spoken on either side. I suppose our eyes had told 
 enough. Anyhow, the next thing I remember is that 
 my dear girl^s head was on my breast, and one arm flung 
 across the pillow that supported my head. I have a 
 dim recollection, too, of trying to smooth her hair, and 
 finding my strength too feeble even for that. That is all, 
 I think ; except that we were ludicrously happy, of course 
 — Tamsin smiling with moist eyes, while I lay still and 
 let the joy of it trickle in my veins. I am extremely 
 obliged to you, my dear young friend, for not laughing 
 outright at this confession. It encourages me to add, 
 for exactness, that Tamsin kept putting her hand up to 
 the back of her head. She has since explained that she 
 felt sure her ' back hair ^ was coming down. Women 
 are curious creatures. 
 
 '^Let me resume. In the midst of what used to be 
 called a ^ love passage,^ the door opened, and in walked 
 Peter Dearlove with a basin of beef -tea. So quietly did 
 he enter, that the first announcement of his presence 
 was a terrific sound which my experience can compare 
 with nothing unless it be whooping-cough — the whoop- 
 ing-cough of a robust adult. 
 
PETER QUOTES THE CATECHISM. 289 
 
 '''This/ he remarked, setting down the tray and 
 eyeing Tamsin severely, 'ain't nussin' properly so 
 called/ 
 
 " I do not think we made any answer to this. 
 
 " ' Ef a name es to be found for % 'tain't so much 
 " nussin' '^ as ^' goings on."*' ' 
 
 '"Your sister has promised to be my wife/ I 
 ventured. 
 
 " ' Beggin' your pardon, sir, but the Catechism has 
 eummat to say to that.' 
 
 "'The Catechism?' 
 
 " ' Iss, sir — "that stashun o' life."" An' not a word 
 'bout raisin' et, even by th' use o' globes — which some 
 considers unekalled.' 
 
 " I put out my hand to cover Tamsin's, and looked 
 up into her face before I answered him with some heat — 
 
 " * I won't affect to misunderstand you. You mean 
 that I am marrying beneath me ? ' 
 
 " He hesitated. 
 
 " ' There's two meanin's to " beneath/' ' 
 
 " ' Ah ! ' I cried, ' I am glad you see that.' 
 
 " He looked at me slowly, and continued — 
 
 " ' Second p'int. Not so long agone you was 
 talkin' of a Geraldin'.' 
 
 " I glanced at Tamsin again and comprehended. 
 
 " ' I have been talking ? ' 
 
 " She nodded. 
 
 " ' And you know it all — the whole story ? ' 
 
 " She nodded again, with a world of healing pity in 
 
 T 
 
290 TROY TOWN. 
 
 her eyes. Then^ with a swift glance at her brother, she 
 stooped and kissed me. 
 
 " ' Oh r said Peter, very shortly ; ' I'm thinkin' I'd 
 best see Paul 'bout this ; ' and with that he disappeared. 
 
 " Whereuj^on/' concluded Mr. Pogo, ''I think I 
 must have dropped asleep again, for I remember nothing 
 after this— at least, nothing that is worth mention.-" 
 
 It is quite true that Mr. Pogo dropped asleep. He 
 slept, moreover, for a considerable time, and awoke to 
 find Caleb seated beside the bed. 
 
 '' Where is Tam — Miss Dearlove ? '' he asked. 
 
 " There ain't no Dearlove, as I knaws by, called 
 Tammis. The males was chris'n'd Peter an' Paul, the 
 female Thomasina : an' they'm gone." 
 
 '' Gone ? " 
 
 '' Gone, an' left me like Hocken's duck, wi'out mat-e 
 or fellow." 
 
 ^' How long?" 
 
 '' Matter o' five hour'." 
 
 There was a long silence. 
 
 " Caleb ! " 
 
 '^ Aye, aye, sir." 
 
 ^' How long do you think it will be before I can get 
 about — be fit to go downstairs, I mean ? " 
 
 ^^ Well, sir, I reckon et depends on yoursel'. Try, 
 an' 'twiU come, as the Doctor said when Bill swallered 
 'arf-a-crown an' wanted to get et up agen by Lady- Day, 
 rent bein' doo." 
 
INVITATION AND REPLY. 291 
 
 " Do you think a week would do it ? " 
 
 "Better say a fortni't^ sir." 
 
 ''What day is it to-day? *' 
 
 " Thursday." 
 
 *' Have I been ill for two days ? " 
 
 ''For a fortni't an' two days." 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " 
 
 " Amen^ sir.^^ 
 
 " Caleb, would you mind writing a letter for me ? '' 
 
 Caleb had no objection; and the composition that 
 followed may be given in full, for works of divided 
 authorship have always possessed an interest of their 
 own from the days of Homer, Homer and Homer 
 downwards : — 
 
 "HoND Twins, — Mr. Fogo's complements to the pare of 
 
 Tou not forgetting Miss Thomasiua and shall be glad if you 
 
 will all Dine with me at 7 p.m. in tlie evening precisely on This 
 
 day (Wens*^y) fortunite. Tou will be glad to heer that I am 
 
 recuvering fast thanks to your care and kindness which Is his 
 
 own words and Gospel truth and so No more at present from 
 
 yoiirs to command 
 
 " P. FOGO, Esq. 
 
 " per C. Trotter 
 
 " Knowing whats up with the kitchin range you wont look 
 
 for much of A dinner." 
 
 The answer was brought by Paul Dearlove early 
 next morning. It ran : — 
 
 " Respectd Sir, — This is thanking you for your kind and 
 welcome letter just reed, and shall be proud to accept of tlio 
 invitation in the spirit in which it is given you must not mind 
 
292 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 the Mtchin range please as between them that knows all about 
 it having diflaeulties at times with the beef tea which trusting 
 you will overlook we remain 
 
 " Tour obedt serves 
 
 (signed) "Petee Deaeloye. 
 "Paul Deaelove. 
 
 " Thomasina lias gone into Troy or would have signed too." 
 
 To a certain extent this was satisfactory ; and Mr. 
 Fogo endeavoured to possess his soul in patience, and 
 recover with all speed. It was weary work at first, but 
 as the sick man really began to mend, he found much 
 interest in discussing with Caleb the preparations for 
 the feast. 
 
 '' We must not be too ambitious, Caleb. Let the 
 fare be simple — ' Persicos odi, puer, apparatus '—as long 
 as it is well cooked and neatly served. •*' 
 
 " I dunno what you means by ' pure apparatus/ " 
 answered Caleb. " There's a flaw in the range, as you 
 knaw ; but 'tes so clane as scrubbin' ^11 make et." 
 
 And, indeed, when the evening arrived with the 
 mellow twilight of July, and the Twins with a double 
 knock, the arrangement of the table, as well as the 
 smell of cooking which pervaded the front hall, did 
 Caleb all credit. The dining-room was bare alike of 
 carpet and pictures, but the floor had been scoured until 
 the boards glistened whitely; and two red ensigns, 
 borrowed by Caleb from the British mercantile marine, 
 served to hide certain defects in the wall-paper. 
 
 Here Mr. Fogo sat awaiting his guests ; for the 
 
THE GUESTS. 293 
 
 preparation of the drawing-room would have overtaxed 
 Caleb's resources. 
 
 '' Miss Thomasina Dearlove, and Messrs. Peter and 
 Paul ditto ! '' 
 
 Mr. Fogo arose with a flush on his wasted cheek, 
 held Tamsin's hand for a moment, and then, bending, 
 kissed it with grave courtesy. She had removed her 
 cloak and hat in the passage, and now stood before him 
 in a plain white frock — short-waisted, and of antique 
 make, perhaps, but little the worse for that. She wore 
 no ornament but a red rose on her bosom ; and if, as I 
 do not believe, a shade of apprehension had troubled 
 Mr. Togo, it would have taken flight as she stood 
 before him, challenging his eyes. 
 
 But the Twins ! 
 
 Like the Austrian army, they were '^ awfully 
 arrayed.''^ So stiff and shiny indeed was their apparel, 
 and such mysterious sounds did the slightest movement 
 draw from their linen, that the beholder grew presently 
 as uneasy as the wearer. Each wore a high stock and 
 a collar that cut the ears. The neck-cloth of Peter was 
 crimson ; of Paul, vivid amber. The waistcoats of both 
 bore floral devices in primary colours, and the hands of 
 both were encased in gloves of white cotton. 
 
 Mr. Fogo took heart of grace and bade them welcome. 
 
 "'Tes a warm evenin/' ventured Paul, rubbing a 
 forefinger round the inside of his collar. 
 
 '^ Uncommon/' responded Peter, addressing his 
 brother. 
 
294) TUOY TOWN. 
 
 Whereupon^ as if by pre-concerted signal, they faced 
 about and made for the two most distant chairs, on the 
 edges of which they took an uneasy rest. Peter had 
 brought his hat into the room, and now, after gazing at 
 it reproachfully for some moments, began to stow it 
 away beneath him, doing violence to its brim with the 
 air of one who does not count the cost. He was relieved 
 by Caleb, who bore it off with the pleasant remark — 
 
 *' Now, then, remember what the old leddy said to 
 make her guests aisy, ' I''m at home, an' I wish you all 
 were.' " 
 
 '' Silence, Caleb I '' said his master. '^ I — I think, 
 as dinner is ready, we may as well be seated at once. 
 Will you take the head of the table ? " he asked, turning 
 to Tamsin. 
 
 She blushed faintly and moved to her place. The 
 Twins leapt up, performed a forced march, and took 
 the table in flank from opposite quarters. Mr. Togo 
 looked around. 
 
 ^^ If one of you would say Grace " 
 
 " Tamsin says it at home. I taught her myselV' 
 said Peter. ^' Now, then, little maid, ^ For what we 'm 
 about ' '' 
 
 She spoke the simple Grace, and the company sat 
 down — with the exception of Paul. 
 
 Now, Paul's position at table faoed the fireplace, and 
 as he raised his head after Grace a large text in red and 
 blue upon the mantelshelf caught his eye, and held him 
 spell-bound. 
 
THE TWINS ARE CEREMONIOUS. 296 
 
 '' ^ Paicc on Earth an Goodwill to- ward Men ! ' he 
 read. " Excuse me^ sir, but nothin' more appropriate to 
 the occashun can I imagine. Et does 'ee credit — e£ I 
 may say so." 
 
 He dropped into his seat, and taking off his gloves 
 laid them beside his glasses. Peter, more ceremonious, 
 retained his throughout the meal. 
 
 " I am afraid,*" explained their host, " that the 
 credit belongs to Caleb, who insisted upon placing the 
 text there ; and as he had obtained it with considerable 
 trouble from the Vicar (it was used, I believe, to deco- 
 rate St. Symphorian's last Christmas), I had not the 
 heart to deny him. But for what are we waiting ? " 
 
 He was answered by the appearance of Caleb, who 
 marched up to Tamsin with a woeful face, and announced 
 in a loud whisper that " Suthin' was up wi* the 
 soup.'^ 
 
 '* I think," said she, rising, '^ if you will let me 
 help " 
 
 '' Sutt'nly," assented Peter in a loud tone. " To be 
 sure — that es, beggin' your pardon, sir," he added 
 apologetically. 
 
 '^ It is very good of you," said Mr. Fogo. 
 
 '^ I should like to help," she explained, and followed 
 Caleb to the kitchen. 
 
 Somehow, with her absence, an oppressive silence fell 
 on the three men. Peter coughed at intervals, and 
 once even began a sentence, but stopped half-way. Mr. 
 Fogo did not heed him, but had fallen to drumming 
 
296 TROY TOWN. 
 
 Boftly with his spoon upon the table. A full five 
 minutes passed thus, and then he started to his feet. 
 '^ Must you really be going ? '' 
 
 " It is early yet ; but I suppose you have some 
 distance to go ? '^ 
 
 ^^What?'' 
 
 '^ Let me, at least, help you on with your coats.''^ 
 
 They stared blankly at him. There was a far-away 
 look in his eyes, but his speech was quiet and distinct 
 enough. Like lambs they obeyed, and marched out into 
 the hall. 
 
 ^^ I am afraid I am too weak to offer much assist- 
 ance '' 
 
 ^^ Don't 'ee menshun et." 
 
 They resumed their coats, and groped for hats 
 and sticks. A deep and awful wonder possessed them 
 both. 
 
 " The night is fine/' observed their host, as he opened 
 the door; ''you will have a pleasant journey home. 
 Good-mght 1 " 
 
 He shook them by the hand as they staggered out, 
 shut the door upon them, and returned pensively to the 
 dining-room. 
 
 As the door closed behind them, the brothers looked 
 into each other's eyes. Paul gave a short gasp, and leant 
 against a pillar of the verandah. 
 
 ''Pet^r!" 
 
 '^Paull'' 
 
DISMISSED ! 297 
 
 " Wud 'ee mind pincliin' me i' the ca'f o' the leg, 
 jes' to make sure ? " 
 
 " I was a-goin' to ax the same favour, Paul/' 
 
 '' Well, churchwarden or no churchwarden, I reckon 
 I am damned ! '^ 
 
 " What I complains of in this 'ere f ash'nuhhle life,'' 
 said Peter slowly, " es this — 'tes too various — ^by a sight, 
 too various/' 
 
 '^ Arter eatin' next door to nuthin' all day, so 's we 
 mou't n' be behindhand in tacklin' the vittles I '' 
 
 There was an interval of painful stupor. 
 
 "Paul!" 
 
 " Peter ! " 
 
 " I'm reckonin' up what my hunger's wuth at this 
 moment. I dunno as I'd take twenty pund for 't." 
 
 Inside the house Mr. Fogo had sunk into an arm- 
 chair, and was regarding the ceiling with thoughtful 
 attention. He was aroused by steps in the hall, and 
 Tamsin re-entered the room, followed by Caleb with the 
 soup-tureen. 
 
 " Hulloa ! Where's the Twins? " 
 
 '^Eh?" 
 
 " Es this a round game, or a conjurin' trick ? " 
 
 ^'I beg your pardon?" Mr. Fogo turned a dull 
 gaze upon him. Caleb set down the tureen with a 
 crash, and rushing up shook his master gently, but 
 firmly, by the collar. 
 
 " Where— be— they— Twins ? " 
 
 *' Oh ! The Twins ? They have gone — gone some 
 
298 TROY TOWN. 
 
 five minutes. I saw them out. It's all — ^ — Bless my 
 soul, how extraordinary^ to be sure ! ^' 
 
 Caleb did not wait for the end of the sentence, but 
 dai-ting out discovered the brothers in the porch, and 
 haled them back. 
 
 '' I beg your pardon most heartily/'' said Mr. Fogo, 
 as they appeared ; '^ the fact is ■*' 
 
 " There's no call, sir. I reckon us'U get the grip o't 
 wi' time an' practice ; on'y bein' new to the ropes, so to 
 spake " 
 
 Mr. Fogo looked at Tamsin. She broke into a 
 merry laugh. 
 
 It snapped the spell. The Twins, who had bee» 
 waiting on each other for a lead with the first spoonful 
 of soup, set down their spoons and joined in, at first 
 decorously, then with uproar. 
 
 " Talk 'bout fun ! " gasped Peter at length, with tears 
 in his eyes, '*^Bill Stickles at the Market Ord'nary 
 can^t match et — an' he's reckoned a tip-topper for fun. 
 An' this es fash'n ! Well, I never did. Ho, ho, ho ! " 
 
 From this moment the success of the dinner was 
 assured. All talked, and talked with freedom. The 
 brothers threw off their restraint, and were their natural 
 and well-mannered selves. It is true that Peter would 
 pause now and ag^in to slap his thigh and renew his 
 mirth; it is true also that he continued to wear his white 
 gloves throughout the meal. But he pocketed them 
 when Caleb removed the cloth, and the company fell 
 into more easy postures. 
 
PETER SURRENDERS. 299 
 
 It was late that evening when the Twins consulted 
 their watches and rose to go, and as yet nothing had 
 been said on the subject nearest to Mr. Fogo's heart. 
 He motioned them back to their seats. 
 
 '' There is still one more question that I must ask 
 you/' he said, rising and stepping to Tamsin's side. 
 ** You guess what it is ? " 
 
 '* I mou't/'' admitted Peter slowly. 
 
 " I ask youj then, if Tamsin has your leave to make 
 me happy. Knowing what it costs you " 
 
 '' No cost, sir, where our little maid's happiness es 
 consamed. Tamsin knaws that, but 't 'as been the 
 harder to talk wi' her as us shud ha' wished, an' that 
 there's no denyin'. Us knawed all along she'd be 
 leavin' us some day, an' oft'n Paul an' me have a-made 
 up each other's mind to 't. I misdoubts, sir — I mis- 
 doubts sorely — seein' 'tes i/ou her heart es set to marry 
 — meanin' no offence, sir. But as 'tes set Tam- 
 sin, girl, we'll be goin', I reckon. I'm thinkin' I've 
 a-parted wi' enough o' my heart's blud for wan night.'^ 
 
 He moved towards the door, but came back again to 
 shake hands, with a word of self-reproach for his lack of 
 courtesy. Then, with a tenderness almost motherly on 
 his mahogany face — 
 
 '^ Be gentle wi' her," he said. '^ She's quick to larn 
 — an' takes cold aisy, which, ef seen to early, a little 
 nitre will a'most al'ays pervent. Come 'long, Tamsin." 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 V7HICH ENDS THE STORY OF TROY. 
 
 The wedding took place in less than two months after 
 Mr. Togo's dinner-party. A longer interval would 
 have proved, I believe, fatal to both Peter and Paul, 
 who wore themselves thin over small anxieties, from the 
 trousseau to the cake. 
 
 Three days before the wedding, for instance, they 
 rowed down to Kit's House and awoke Caleb at 
 4.80 a.m. by throwing gravel against his window. 
 
 '^Oh, ''tes you/' said Caleb as he thrust open the 
 lattice ; '' what's amiss now ? " 
 
 ^'We have been considerin' which of us two es to 
 gi'e Tamsin away."" 
 
 "Toss up." 
 
 '^ We kave tossed up — scores o' times.''' 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " The results/' said Peter gravely, " es versified." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 "Otherwise, various. The results es various — 
 inclinin' to Paul." 
 
 "Well, let Paul do 't.'' 
 
 " Peter es oulder," objected Paul. 
 
 " By dree minnits — which don't fairly count/' put 
 in Peter. 
 
THE WEDDING. 801 
 
 ''Peter/' observed Caleb, " looks th 'oulder— by full 
 dree minnits/'' 
 
 " Paul went to school afore me/' said Peter, " by- 
 two days — along o' measles." 
 
 "Look 'ere/' decided Caleb, ''let Paul gi'e her away, 
 an' you, bein' the better spokesman, can propose th* 
 health o' the bride an' bridegroom." 
 
 This satisfied them, and so it was arranged at the 
 wedding. I am not going to describe the ceremony 
 — at which I had the privilege of holding my friend's 
 hat — beyond saying that woman, as is usual on these 
 occasions, was a success, and man a dismal failure. 
 There was one exception. When little Susie Clemow, 
 who at Mr. Fogo's express desire was one of the brides- 
 maids, identified the bridegroom with the strange 
 gentleman who had frightened her in the lane, and 
 burst into loud screams in the middle of the service, 
 I could not sufficiently admire the readiness with which 
 Peter Dearlove produced a packet of brandy-balls from 
 his tail- pocket to comfort her, or the prescience which 
 led him to bring such confectionery to a wedding. 
 
 At the breakfast, too, which, owing to the dimen- 
 sions of the Dearloves' cottage, was perforce select, 
 Peter again shone. In proposing the health of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Togo, he said — 
 
 " On an occasion like the present et becomes us not 
 to repine. These things es sent us for our good " (here he 
 looked doubtfully at the cake), "an' wan man's meat es 
 t'other's p'ison, which I hopes " (severely) " you knawed 
 
802 TEOY TOWN. 
 
 wi'out my tellin' 'ee ; an^ I slmdn^ wonder e£ Paul 
 an' me was to draw lots wan o' these fine days as 
 to which o' us shud take the pledge — I means, the 
 plunge — an' go an' scarify hissel' 'pon the high menial 
 altar/' 
 
 Immense excitement at this point prevailed among 
 certain elderly spinsters present. 
 
 '^That was a joke/' explained the speaker, with 
 sudden and stony solemnity, '^ an' I hopes 'twill be tuk 
 in the sperrit in which 'twas meant. An' wi' that I 
 gi'es Tamsin's health an' that o' P. Fogo, Esquire, to 
 whom she has been this day made man an' wife ; an' 
 bless them an' their dear offspring ! " 
 
 At this point he was sitting down when Paul leant 
 across and whispered in his ear. 
 
 '^You are right, Paul," said the orator — "or off- 
 springs. Bless their dear offspring or offsprings — as 
 the case may be." 
 
 And with this he resumed his seat amid frantic 
 applause. 
 
 The Twins alone escorted the bride and bridegroom 
 to the railway- station ; and with the accident that 
 there befell, the chronicle of Mr. Fogo's adventures 
 may for the present close. While the brothers saw 
 Tamsin to her carriage, and with their white waistcoats 
 and gigantic favours planted awe in the breast of the 
 travelling public, the bridegroom dived into the Book- 
 ino" Office to take the tickets for London ; for Mr. and 
 
MR. FOGO TAKES THE TICKETS. 303 
 
 Mrs. Fogo were to spend some days in the Metropolis 
 before crossing the Channel. 
 
 Now it so happened that in the Booking Office there 
 hung a gorgeous advertisement of one of the principal 
 Steamship Companies, representing a painted ship, the 
 S.S. Fopocatapetl, upon a painted ocean, with a deckload 
 of passengers in all varieties of national and fancy cos- 
 tume. Mr. Fogo, as his eye rested on this company, 
 halted and looked more closely. 
 
 ^' That Highlander,^' he said, ^' is out of drawing.''^ 
 Purse in hand, he paused before the advertisement 
 and slowly yielded to its spell. His eyes grew fixed 
 and glassy : tickets, train, and waiting bride had passed 
 out of his mind. Mr. Togo's fit was upon him. 
 
 Meanwhile the Twins, unconscious of the flight of 
 time, and untutored in the ways of locomotives, were 
 loading their sister with parting advice. 
 
 '^This 'ere," remarked Peter, pulling a bulky parcel 
 from his pocket, '^contains a variety o' useful articles 
 for travellin', which I've a-reckoned up durin' the past 
 week an' meant to hand 'ee at the las' moment. There's 
 a wax candle an' a box o' lucifers for the tunnels, an* 
 a roll o' diach'lum plaister in case o' injury, an' ' Foxe's 
 Book o' Martyrs,' ef you shud tire o' lookin' out at the 
 windey, an' Thorley's-Food-for-Cattle Almanack for the 
 las' thirteen year all done up separate, an' addressed 
 to 'Mr. P. Dearlove, juxty Troy.' 'Bout this last, 
 I wants Mr. Fogo to post wan at ivery stashun 
 
S04 TROY TOWN. 
 
 where you stops, so*s we may knaw youVe got 
 there sa£e/^ 
 
 '' I see" broke in Paul, who had been spelling 
 through the notices with which the carriage was 
 adorned, " there's a fine not exceedin' saxty shillin' ef 
 you communicates wi' the guard wi^out reason, an' wuss 
 ef you cuts the cush'ns or damages the com-partment- 
 You'd bes' call Mr. Fogo's 'tention to that." 
 
 ''An' warn 'un not to get out while the train's i' 
 motion ; but you was al'ays thoughtful, Tamsin. God 
 bless thee, little maid! Et makes my head swim o* 
 whiles to think 'pon the times I've a-danced 'ee 'pon my 
 knee, an' now you'm a married woman ! " 
 
 " God bless you both, my dear brothers 1 " 
 
 '' Amazin'," said Paul ; *' I see the Cumpenny won't 
 hold itseV liable for " 
 
 There was a slamming of doors, a shriek of the 
 whistle, and the train began to move away. At the 
 same moment Mr. Togo darted out of the Booking 
 Office, and came tearing up the platform. 
 
 '' Where's my wife ? " he cried. " Which 
 
 carriage r 
 
 It was too late. The carriage was already beyond 
 the platform, and the train had gathered speed. But 
 presence of mind belongs not to experience only. At 
 the end of the train was hitched an empty clay-truck, 
 bound on a return journey to Five Lanes' Junction. 
 Quick as thought the Twins, as Mr. Togo rushed up to 
 them, turned, caught him by the coat-collar and seat of 
 
305 
 
 his trowsers, and with one timely heave sent him flying 
 into this. When he staggered to his feet — hatless, 
 without spectacles, and besmeared with clay from head 
 to foot — the train was fifty yards beyond the station. 
 And so, staring back mournfully at the little group upon 
 the platform, he vanished from their sight. 
 
 '* That," said Peter, turning slowly to his brother, 
 " was nibby-gibby." 
 
 '^Tamsin mou't ha' communicated wi' the guard," 
 responded Paul, ^^ on'y that, wi'out sufficient reason, wud 
 ha' been not exceedin' saxty shillin'. Do 'ee think 
 'twud ha' been held sufficient reason ? " 
 
 ^^ I dunno. I reckon they mou't ha' made et two- 
 pund-ten, all things conseddered," said his brother 
 thoughtfully, " but there's no knawin'.^^ 
 
 It is always hateful to say good-bye to friends, and 
 here, with his leave, the reader shall be left to guess on 
 the later fortunes of Tamsin and Mr. Togo, the Twins 
 and Caleb. It may be, if he care, and the Fates so 
 order it, he shall some day follow them through new 
 adventures ; but it will be far from Troy Town. And 
 for the present they shall fare as his imagination pleases. 
 
 Of Tamsin, however, who is thus left with her good 
 or sorry fortune before her, something shall be hinted. 
 Public opinion at Troy condemned her marriage. As 
 Miss Limpenny neatly asked, " If we were all to marry 
 beneath us, pray where should we stop ?''■' '^ We should 
 go on,^'' replied the Admiral, ^^ ad libitum.'^ I am 
 u 
 
306 TROY TOWN. 
 
 inclined to think lie meant *' ad infinitum ; " but the 
 argument is quite as cogent as it stands. 
 
 And yet, since they returned to Kit's House, which 
 they did after an absence of three years, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Togo have been called upon by the Cumeel/o. Some 
 months ago the Admiral button-holed me in the street. 
 
 " I say, who are all those people staying with — 
 with your friends ? I mean, the strangers I saw in 
 Church yesterday — a very creditable lot, upon my word.'' 
 
 '^ I am glad you approve of them,^' I answered 
 gravely. " The lady with the spectacles is Miss Gamma 
 Girton, the NoveHst of Agnosticism; the tall man in 
 black, Thomas Daniel, the critic '^ 
 
 " Oh, literary people.^' 
 
 " Quite. Then there is Sir Inchcape Bell, the great 
 Engineer ; and Lady Judy Twitchett — her husband (the 
 young man with the bald head) sits for Horkeyboro*, 
 you know, and will be in the Cabinet with the next ** 
 
 But the Admiral was already hurrying down the 
 street. That very afternoon he took his family up to 
 Kit's House, to call ; and has been calling at short 
 intervals ever since. 
 
 The Good wyn- Sandys', unless we are sharper than 
 the police, we shall never see again. They made good 
 their escape. So close was the pursuit, however, that 
 they were forced to leave the portmanteau in the cloak- 
 room at Paddington Station, where it was discovered and 
 opened. It contained a highly curious clock-work toy, 
 
807 
 
 and enough dynamite to raze St. Paul's to the ground. 
 Even without exploding, it converted three statesmen to 
 Home Rule. 
 
 Mr. Moggridge's resignation of his post in the 
 Customs was received by the authorities without ex- 
 pressed regret. He has since married Sophia Buzza, 
 and edits a Conservative paper in Wales. I see that 
 another volume of his verse is in the press. It is to be 
 called " Throbs : and other Trifles/' and will include the 
 epithalamium written by him for his own nuptials, as 
 well as his " Farewell to Troy ! " — a composition which 
 Mrs. Buzza said she ^' defied you to read without feeling 
 as if geese were walking over your grave.'' 
 
 Sam Buzza has gone to College. 
 
 And what of Troy Town? By degrees the old 
 phrases, old catch-words, and old opinions have come to 
 reign again. Troy's unchanged loveliness too, the daily 
 round full of experiences familiar as old friends, the dear 
 monotony of sight and sound in the little port — all have 
 made for healing and oblivion. If you question us on a 
 certain three months in our life, the chances are you will 
 get no answer. We have agreed to forget, you see ; and 
 BO we are beginning to persuade ourselves, almost, that 
 those months have never been. 
 
 Almost. But, as a fact, Mrs. Buzza had been right. 
 " It will never be the same again — never ! " Some- 
 thing we have lost, and I think that something is Troy. 
 For strangers have come amongst us, and have formed a 
 
308 TROY TOWN. 
 
 society of their own. The Town is grown out of our 
 knowledge. They have built^ and are building, mansions 
 of stucco, and a hotel of hideous brick ; a fifth-rate race- 
 meeting threatens the antique regatta ; and before all 
 this the savour of Trojan life is departing. Ilion is 
 down, and by no assault of war. 
 
 And yet 
 
 The evening before last I passed up the road in front 
 of No. 1, Alma Villas. The air was warm, and through 
 the half-opened window a voice stole out — 
 
 '^In the Great Exhibition of 1851, my dear. Her 
 Majesty the Queen, while partaking of luncheon *' 
 
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