iiiiiiliil^^llililj 
 
 aili!2llii_j.lii'"
 
 i 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 «:;^
 
 V i'-
 
 BREEZIE LANGTON; 
 
 A STORY OF FIFTY-TWO TO FIFTY-FIVE. 
 
 BY HAWLEY SMART. 
 
 " Time turns the old days to derision, 
 
 ^Our loves into corpses or wives ; 
 And marriage, and death, and division 
 Make barren our Uves." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 EICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREl]'l 
 
 1869.
 
 
 THREE YEARS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THP] GHOST OP DUNNINGTON HALL. 
 
 Deip, drip, drip ; tlie rain splashed ou 
 as if it never meant stopping. London 
 had already arrived at as much daylight 
 as is consistent with a wet November day, 
 and the view from Mr. Frank Forbes's 
 chambers in the Temple was certainly 
 depressing. That gentleman, one of the 
 "just called," was pacing his apartment 
 in anything but a happy frame of mind, 
 and pufl&ng savagely at a short clay 
 pipe. 
 
 " Disgusting !" he exclaimed, as he 
 paused for the twentieth time to look out 
 at the unpromising day. " What the 
 deuce is a fellow to do ? As if London 
 
 VOL. I. ■ L 
 
 5581,63 
 
 OBSERVE
 
 2 TJiree Years. 
 
 wasn't bad enougli in November without 
 this sort of thing. Well, if I had gone 
 down to my uncle's at Wildmore, shooting 
 would have been very poor fun such 
 weather as this — kind of day a fellow's 
 profession ought to stand to him. Why 
 don't some one send a brief?" 
 
 A man's step, and a man's voice hum- 
 ming " The Young May Moon," were now 
 heard in the passage. A sharp tap at the 
 door, and the new comer entered. 
 
 " Halloa, Tom !" said Frank Forbes, 
 " charmed to see you again ; but I thought 
 you were in Berkshire." 
 
 " So I was. Only got back last night — 
 found this in the letter-box, and so came 
 over to you. Read it ;" and he handed 
 Forbes an open letter. 
 
 Tom Lyttlereck had been called to the 
 Bar some four or five years back, and had 
 at once made up his mind that that was as 
 far, as he wished to go in the profession. 
 Having embraced it originally to please 
 liis friends, he now neglected it to please 
 himself, and being in possession of a small 
 independence, was enabled to do as ho 
 liked on tliat point. For the rest he still
 
 The Ghost of Dunninrjton Sail. 3 
 
 called himself a barrister ; kept chambers 
 in the Temple ; was seen a good deal at 
 Richmond and in the Park during the 
 season ; assisted with great regularity at 
 the carnival of Epsom and the more decor- 
 ous festival of Ascot ; had a numerous 
 and very varied acquaintance ; and in the 
 autumn lived a wandering life amongst 
 country houses, where he assisted greatly 
 in the promotion of private theatricals, 
 the destruction of partridges, the support 
 of country balls, or anything, as he ex- 
 pressed it, that " gave signs of vitality in 
 the rural districts." 
 
 "Who's it from?" inquired Forbes, as 
 he took the letter. 
 
 "My cousin, Charlie Repton; he wants 
 us to go down there for the Moretown 
 ball. Give me a pipe while you see what 
 he says." 
 
 " Well," said Forbes, as he finished the 
 letter, " nothing can be more disgusting 
 than the state of thino;s here. I vote we 
 go ; Dunnington with a cheery party beats 
 the Temple in a wet November." 
 
 " Go ! of course we'll go," replied Tom. 
 " I'll scribble a line by to-day's post to 
 
 B 2
 
 Three Years. 
 
 Charlie to say we'll be tliere for dinner to- 
 
 morrow." 
 
 " Let me see. Kepton's an only son, I 
 know. Has lie got any sisters ?" 
 
 " Only one — Agnes." 
 
 Tlie next afternoon saw our two friends 
 speeding along the Great Northern, bound 
 for Moretown Station, Blankshire, from 
 whence a waggonette conveyed them to. 
 Dunnington. 
 
 Dunnington Hall is a fine, though 
 ([uaint old building, standing, not like 
 most country houses, in a park, but in the 
 middle of the villaQ:e. Passino; throusrh a 
 low square gate-tower, a short gravel 
 drive brings you to the house, a long 
 rectangular building of red brick, having 
 a quaint pepper-box turret at each angle. 
 You enter through a small lobby into a 
 very fine hall, decorated with old armour 
 and a good deal of carved oak. This hall 
 is in the centre of the building, occupy- 
 ing the whole breadth of the rectangle, and 
 over it runs a long oak gallery ; the con- 
 sequence is, that to get from the rooms on 
 one side of the house to those on the 
 other, you must either cross the hall on
 
 TJie Ghost of Bunnington Hall. 5 
 
 the basement story or the long gallery 
 above it. This large hall and gallery over 
 it have been often condemned as a great 
 waste of room, and undoubtedly the house 
 has not the accommodation you would have 
 expected from its outside appearance ; but 
 then the hall is just the place for a 
 billiard table, and the galler^^, with 
 its polished floor of old oak, is such 
 a place for a valse, to say nothing 
 of battledore and shuttlecock, or of 
 its capabilities for transformation into 
 a theatre at short notice, that, take 
 it all round, there are few more 
 cheery country houses than Dunnington 
 Hall. 
 
 Running up against one side of the 
 building is a magnificent standard holly, 
 which, passing the windows of the great 
 gallery, rears its top proudly level with 
 the roof. It stands a little to the rio-ht 
 of the entrance. Connected with this 
 holly there is a story, of which we shall 
 hear more by and by; in the meantime, 
 do not forget its situation. 
 
 " Deuced glad to see you. How do you 
 do, Frank ?" and Charhe Repton stepped
 
 6 Tliree Years. 
 
 forward, cue in hand, to welcome them as 
 they entered the hall. 
 
 He was a good-looking fellow, about 
 eight-and-twenty, who took life very 
 easily — fond of shooting, hunting, &c., 
 as long as it was attainable without much 
 trouble ; but Charlie was a very Sybarite 
 in his pursuit of pleasure. The run of the 
 season would not compensate for twenty 
 miles to cover, in his philosophy ; and at 
 a similar distance, the prettiest girl in all 
 Blankshire keeping the after supper valse 
 for him, would have had a poor chance 
 against an easy chair, a regalia, and the 
 last popular novel. 
 
 " Train pretty punctual, I see ; wants 
 ten minutes to the dressing-bell. Have a 
 glass of sherry after your drive;" and 
 Charlie rang. 
 
 " Not a bad idea. "Who have you got 
 staying here ? How's Agnes, and when's 
 the ball?" responded Tom. 
 
 " Can't you ask one question at a 
 time, instead of converting yourself into 
 a regular edition of Magnall ? Agnes I 
 sliall leave to report on her own health ; the 
 ball's to-morrow, and as for the people, I
 
 The Ghost of Dunnington Hall. 7 
 
 thouglat I told you all tliat in my letter. 
 The Breretons are the only addition. You 
 know them." 
 
 " Yes ; jolly girls, rather. Old Brereton, 
 I should think, looks upon the odd trick 
 as the great end of life ; and now I'm off 
 to dress ;" and Tom, who was evidently 
 quite at home, bustled out of the hall, 
 leaving Forbes to the care of Charlie 
 Reptou. 
 
 Clang goes the bell from one of the 
 pepper-box turrets, and the party is rapidly 
 mustered in the dininsf-room. Glance 
 your eye down the table, and let us ex- 
 amine them. 
 
 Charlie Repton is flirting disgracefully 
 with Mrs. Inglemere, five-and- twenty, a 
 widow and brunette, with such a pair of 
 eyes ! Charlie would be perfectly imbecile 
 to neglect such an opportunity. Well, we 
 cannot find fault with him on that score, 
 as, judging from appearances, he is evi- 
 dently " doing all he knows." 
 
 Then there are the two Clippington girls, 
 mdgnonne, fair, capital figures, and with 
 deep blue eyes — that deep, deep blue that 
 verges on black. Minnie and Laura were
 
 8 Three Years. 
 
 two counhy-borD young ladies, avIio had 
 latterly lived a good deal abroad, and who, 
 having grafted foreign habits on sporting 
 propensities, had acquired the reputa- 
 tion of being extremely fast. They were 
 both pretty, rode well, carried valsing 
 as near volition as practicable, sang a 
 little, drew a little, bated humbug, had 
 lots to say for themselves, and were not 
 afraid to say it, had but short patience 
 with stupid partners, and none at all with 
 *' bad goers," as Laura said. 
 
 " Stupid, poor things, they were born, 
 and talking to a mild extent they may 
 deem a necessity ; but dancing is an ac- 
 quired taste, and when you can't do it, 
 or don't like it, inflicting misery on your 
 fellow-creatures is inexcusable." 
 
 It was, perhaps, Laura's too ready 
 tongue more than anything else that had 
 obtained for them the reputation of being 
 "fast;" but she was a clever girl. Her 
 mother had died almost before Laura could 
 recollect, and showing a little contempt 
 for " the conventionalities," was a temp- 
 tation she always found so difficult to resist. 
 Flirting, 1 need scarcely say, they both
 
 The Ghost of Bminington Hall. 9 
 
 had reduced to a science. After all, as a 
 general rule, it is a very harmless amuse- 
 ment, and if there be some few sufferers, 
 why whatever the game, somebody will 
 now and then be hart. Flirtation is but 
 two persons of opposite sexes exercising 
 all their powers of pleasing on each other. 
 Of course, a mistake occurs occasionally, 
 one or the other forgets they are but play- 
 ing for sugar plums, and begins staking 
 the gold pieces in earnest. What would 
 you have ? We cannot all keep our heads 
 and play cool. 
 
 " To fall in love is much easier than to 
 get rid of it," saith the French philo- 
 sopher, hiiic nice lachrymce. 
 
 What are termed fast young ladies are, 
 for the most part, cruelly libelled. Be- 
 cause they dare to say a little of what they 
 know and think, and to break through the 
 upper crust of formality that surrounds 
 society; because they presume to feel 
 bored and sick of platitudes, and show it, 
 the " foolish vircrins " who do not think 
 and cannot talk, the respectable matrons 
 who vegetate in country places where 
 the flood-tide of civilization hath not yet
 
 10 Three Years. 
 
 readied, hold up their hauds and exclaim, 
 " shocking," " forward," &c., till they cul- 
 minate in the epithet of '* fast." 
 
 But away with such moralizing ; the 
 entrees are going round, and the cham- 
 pagne sparkles in the glasses. Old Brere- 
 ton is explaining an abstruse point of 
 whist to the rector, who is fond of a 
 rubber — the " Vienna Coup," perhaps. 
 The Miss Breretons are looking pretty ; 
 they come, perhaps, under the head of the 
 " foolish yirgins " who cannot talk ; but, 
 then, do not the Easterns tell us that 
 *' silence is golden ?" Old Mr. Eepton is 
 detailing the absurdity of that last poach- 
 ina: case he submitted to the Moretowu 
 bench, having been disposed of Avith " a 
 month," when " three, sir, would not have 
 been half enough for the scoundrel !" 
 Frank Forbes and Minnie Clippington are 
 deep in theatricals, while Lyttlercck seems 
 to be getting on very satisfactorily with 
 Laura. 
 
 " No, Mr. Lyttlercck, you don't quite 
 understand me. I didn't say that I was a 
 judge of character. I meant that I can 
 hardly understand anybody with brains
 
 Tlie Ghost of Dunnington Hall. 11 
 
 not to a certain extent studying character. 
 Of course, not in every case; for some 
 people, poor things, don't seem to have 
 any. I don't speak morally," laughed 
 Laura. 
 
 " Though you might ; but I see what 
 you mean. I was in Edinburgh some few 
 months ago ; there I met an old banker, 
 Macpherson by name. How delighted you 
 would have been with him. I revelled in 
 him. The first time I met him, a young 
 lady we all knew was under discussion. 
 She was a nice enough girl, but I'm afraid 
 no favourite of his, for he suddenly summed 
 up and gave judgment in these words : 
 * She's just a born idiot ; she can neither 
 play the piano nor haud the candle.' " 
 
 '" Xeither useful nor ornamental would 
 be, I suppose, the southern translation." 
 
 " Yes ; but how extremely destitute of 
 force after the racy and epigrammatic 
 diction of my friend." 
 
 Mrs. Repton's head here bent, and the 
 ladies rose. 
 
 " How late you all are," said Agnes 
 Repton, as the gentlemen entered the 
 drawing-room. " jN'ow do make haste with
 
 12 Tliree Years. 
 
 your tea, we are going to dance in the 
 gallery." 
 
 " Yes, we want to see if you are as 
 good, at tlie deux temps as at sketching 
 character, Mr. Lyttlereck. In fact, Agnes, 
 we really must know what reliable valsers 
 we have for to-morrow night," said Laura, 
 with much gravity. 
 
 " Will you honour me with a turn ?" 
 asked Tom, rather amused. 
 
 " With pleasure. Don't you think the 
 deux temps ought to be a leading subject 
 in the competitive examinations ? I would 
 give two thousand marks for proficiency, 
 and I believe they would, only you men 
 are afi^aid that we should carry off all the 
 prizes. Fancy our getting all the civil 
 service things and commissions. How we 
 should improve the bands." 
 
 " Well, haven't we thrown open the Uni- 
 versities to you ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; but then, you see, we don't 
 so much care about being clergymen till 
 we begin to get old," said Laura, de- 
 murely, " and I don't think, as a rule, we 
 should look well in wigs if we went to the 
 bar."
 
 Tlie Ghost of Dunnington Rail. 13 
 
 " Now, Tom, I'll give jou a lead," said 
 Charlie Repton, as lie whirled by with 
 Mrs. iDgleraere. 
 
 " A fair challenge," said Tom, and he 
 followed with his partner down the gal- 
 lery. 
 
 *' Not so bad," said Laura, as they 
 stopped. " You can valse ; but tell me, 
 have you been at a Moretown ball before ? 
 Shall we have either a decent room, or 
 decent music?" 
 
 " It's a fair room, and this time the 
 music will be good, for Charlie is one of 
 the stewards, and has barred Pandean 
 pipes and the violin resources of the neigh- 
 bourhood. Apropos to studying character, 
 I always pick up a good story at a country 
 ball." 
 
 " Charming, don't forget our mission 
 to-morrow night. Blending instruction, 
 no — improvement, that's the word, with 
 pleasure." 
 
 " The proper study of mankind is man," 
 
 quoted Tom imbecilely. 
 
 " No such thing, sir, it's woman, and 
 what dreadful geese you do make of your-
 
 14 ^Eirce Years. 
 
 selves, when you pretend to understand 
 
 us." 
 
 Quite right, I never think a man in 
 real danger till he affects that knowledge ; 
 it's generally combined with youth and in- 
 experience." 
 
 " Laura, Laura !" exclaimed Mrs. In- 
 glemere, " do come and look at this pic- 
 ture. He was so delightfully wicked, and 
 he walks about this gallery all night, and 
 throws people out of window if he catches 
 them, doesn't he ?" 
 
 " Not exactly," replied Charlie Repton; 
 " but I'll tell you the legend if you'll come 
 and have some wine and water in the 
 drawing-room." 
 
 A general move was now voted in favour 
 of Charhe's story and refreshment. 
 
 " Fire away," said Tom, as he handed 
 some sherry and water to Laura, " we are 
 all armed now against excess of prosi- 
 
 ness." 
 
 " Mr. Lyttlercck you must be banished 
 to the gallery if you interrupt in this 
 way," cried Mrs. Inglemere. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Tom, and look in- 
 terested," laughed Agnes. "Now, Charlie,
 
 The Ghost of Dimnington Hall. 15 
 
 witli all the horrors. Spoil somebody's 
 dreams, we can't afford to have our ghost 
 lauo;hed at." 
 
 " Well," said Charlie, " in the days or 
 Charles II, the Derringtons were lords of 
 Dunnington. The then peer was a hard- 
 drinking cavalier, and as little likely as 
 most men to look with a severe eye on 
 the escapades of his eldest son ; yet the 
 Hon. Herbert had proved not only too 
 much for him, but even the dissolute 
 society of that Court voted the Hon. Her- 
 bert to have gone even beyond the 
 extremely liberal license they allowed. 
 Whatever did duty for Tattersall's, Ascot 
 and Baden in those days, I don't quite 
 know ; but as history tells us, even in the 
 time of the Romans their equivalents were 
 perfectly understood — " 
 
 " That'll do, Charlie," interrupted Laura 
 Clipping-ton. She always called him 
 Charlie on the strength of a mythical 
 cousinship. " That'll do, keep that for 
 the next penny readings at the Moretown 
 Institute." 
 
 " Ah, I forgot you were past improve- 
 ment. Well, the Tattersalls and Baden
 
 16 Tliree Years. 
 
 of those days speedily finished Herbert 
 Derriugton. Now, though impecuniosity 
 was even then a crime, yet people did not 
 drop Herbert Derrington for that ; but 
 when rumours were rife that he occasion- 
 ally rode by the light of the moon a la 
 Duval, and finally when he lost and didn't 
 pay, the world agreed they could bear 
 with Herbert Derring^ton no lono;er, and 
 that he must be cast out from among them. 
 Witli his father he had quarrelled irre- 
 concilably some time before, and what now 
 became of him nobody knew. Occasional 
 rumours of his having been seen in some 
 of the most vilely dissolute haunts of 
 London were heard; but in this part of 
 the world he had not been seen for years. 
 In due course of time, the old Lord took 
 his departure through the medium of gout 
 and strong potations, after the manner of 
 those days. Some months elapsed, and 
 then the new Lord arrived with a troop of 
 servants. The old hall was soon filled 
 with a set wliom the neighbouring gentry 
 voted more than questionable. They 
 drank deep, and played deeper, were 
 readier with a rapier than a cheque whilst 
 
 /o
 
 The Ghost of Dunnington Hall. 17 
 
 a pale face turned up to heaven, and a 
 sword thrust through an embroidered 
 waistcoat might occasionally be seen midst 
 a flushed and disordered group 'neath 
 the big holly as the sun rose. The Hon. 
 Herbert had ever been of a saturnine 
 countenance ; but now he waxed grimmer 
 and grimmer. He sneered at his guests, 
 and grew bitter in his cups. If the cards 
 ran against him formerly, he was fast 
 friends with them now ; the dice came at 
 his call, and he swept up the broad pieces 
 nightly with a mocking laugh that was 
 bad to listen to. Dark stories were rife 
 about unfair play and unfair duels, and 
 the jeering, saturnine Lord Derrington 
 was looked upon by the neighbourhood 
 with mingled feelings of fear and distrust. 
 
 " Now, ladies, out with your pocket 
 handkerchiefs, I am coming to the pa- 
 thetic part." 
 
 " Now, pray go on, Mr. Repton, I'm 
 so interested," said the widow. 
 
 "Yes, go on, Charlie. I do so want to 
 see you do the pathetic." 
 
 " Well, with your eyes, Mrs. Tnglemere, 
 a handkerchief's a mistake," continued 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 Three Years. 
 
 Charlie, calmly ignoring Laura's remark. 
 " Let's see, where was I ?" 
 
 " On eyes," said Laura, quietly. 
 
 The widow coloured slightly, and 
 Charlie resumed : 
 
 " The prettiest girl in those days, for 
 miles round, was Mary Malcolmsou. She 
 lived with her grandfather in a neat cot- 
 tage in what was then the Chase. Her 
 father had fallen fighting with the old 
 Lord at the fatal field of Naseby ; her 
 mother had died while Mary was still 
 young, and she had been brought up by 
 her grandfather, who was still nominally 
 head-keeper or ranger. She was be- 
 trothed to one of the under-rangers. 
 One evening, about sunset, Mary left the 
 cottage, telling her grandfather she should 
 be back in half an hour ; but days passed 
 and she never returned. She was sought 
 far and wide — her lover was in despair — 
 ponds were dragged, but all in vain ! 
 nothing could be seen or heard of Mary. 
 
 " It was about ten days after her myste- 
 rious disappearance that her betrothed, 
 a bold, determined fellow, was coming 
 moodily up the village. The moon shone
 
 The Ghost of Bunnington Kail. 19 
 
 brightly, and the straggHng hamlet was 
 almost as visible as if it were clay. He 
 had arrived within some twenty yards of 
 the low-arched gate-way leading to the 
 Hall, when the wicket was thrown vio- 
 lently open, and a man, his eyes starting 
 from his head, and his face blanched with 
 terror, almost ran into his arms. 
 
 " ' The ghoast, the ghoast !" was all he 
 could mutter, while his limbs shook, and 
 his teeth rattled from fear. 
 
 " While the keeper yet tried to pacify 
 him. Lord Derrington and his confidential 
 servant came to the wicket, cast a hastv 
 glance at the ghost- seer, and inquired 
 whether anyone had passed. The keeper 
 answered in the negative, and his lordship, 
 with a savage execration, turned back to 
 the Hall. The keeper had by this time 
 recognised the man as a helper in the 
 stables, and when he had partially re- 
 covered from his fright, his story was 
 this. He was coming down the drive 
 when he heard a cry behind him, and saw 
 something white (or as he called it, the 
 ' ghoast ') spring from the top windows of 
 the house and disappear into the big holly ; 
 
 c 2
 
 20 Three Years. 
 
 then lie heard moans which were suc- 
 ceeded by curses and mocking laughter — 
 then he could stand it no longer, and 
 fled. 
 
 " Before the end of that nisrht, more than 
 one villager had seen the ' ghoast,' and in 
 the morning Mary Malcolmson was found 
 bleeding and senseless on the steps of her 
 grandfather's cottage. She lingered a few 
 days ; but was never fairly in her senses. 
 Still, enough was gathered from her wan- 
 dering incoherent talk to show that Lord 
 Derrington's people were her abductors, 
 and that to escape his lordship's persecu- 
 tions she had thrown herself from the win- 
 dow of the long gallery just opposite the 
 holly. The tree broke her fjill, and she 
 escaped into the shrubbery, though fear- 
 fullv bruised and lacerated : but the shock 
 to lier nerves proved fatal. 
 
 " Her lover disappeared on the day of her 
 funeral, and some two months afterwards 
 Lord Derrington and his friends were 
 rudely disturbed by the incursion of an 
 armed and masked band. His lordship 
 and his friends were all men to whom 
 co;d steel was no novelty, and though
 
 The Ghost of Dunnington Hall. 21 
 
 caught, rather like rats in a trap, they 
 made up their minds to die hard. A des- 
 perate struggle took place in which they 
 divided into two parties. One lot cut their 
 way through their assailants and escaped, 
 while Derrington and the others were 
 driven upstairs to the gallery, there most 
 of them were killed. The legend goes on 
 to say that the ex-keeper who was their 
 leader, with a refinement of vengeance, 
 strove to force Derrington through the 
 identical window from which his mistress 
 had thrown herself. He was killed in the 
 attempt, and Derrington, hotly pursued, 
 made his way to the roof by the turret 
 stair, leapt into the big holly tree by 
 which at the cost of some severe scratches 
 he descended safely to the ground and 
 escaped. He had to yield to popular 
 opinion and fly the neighbourhood, but 
 is said to have lived many years after- 
 wards. 
 
 " Still, any night after twelve, you may 
 see those two fearful leaps repeated. You see 
 the ghost of the girl, with her hair all flying 
 loose, throw up her arms, and then with 
 a shriek, spriog through the window, while
 
 22 Three Years. 
 
 Lord DeiTiiigton, with a blood-stained 
 sword iu his hand, follows with demoniacal 
 laughter. My story is ended. Sit up who 
 will and judge for themselves." 
 
 " Thank you, no, I think we had better 
 look for our candles," exclaimed Agnes. 
 
 " Good night, Charlie ; but I don't think 
 you were half pathetic, you never even 
 described Mary Malcolmson," said Laura. 
 
 " No, it wasn't worth while," replied 
 Charlie seriously, " if you go about that 
 gallery much after midnight, you will be 
 able to do that yourself." 
 
 "Nonsense, Mr. Repton," cried Mrs. 
 Tnglemere. " You don't mean to say you 
 believe in it. Did you ever see it ?" 
 
 " I would rather not answer that ques- 
 tion," said Charlie solemnly. " I am 
 happy to add that my bed-room and the 
 smokiuGf-room are botli this side of the 
 gallery, and consequently nothing neces- 
 sitates my interfering with Lord Derring- 
 ton or Miss Malcolmson in any way." 
 
 Charlie here became so absorbed about 
 the widow's candlestick, that to have con- 
 tinued the subject would have been absurd.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A COUNTEY BALL AND AN APPAEITION. 
 
 It was a very snug room that consti- 
 tuted the smoking den at Dunnington, and 
 what an essential to a country house such 
 a snuggery is. The old obsolete house, in 
 which one's evening tobacco was only ar- 
 rived at in the kitchen or servant's hall 
 through the connivance of the butler, has 
 almost disappeared, as also has that race 
 of portly country gentlemen, who vaguely 
 connected indulgence in tobacco with a 
 tendency to immorality, radicalism and all 
 manner of uncleanness. The soft mellow 
 light of a well-trimmed lamp, the crackling 
 fire, the broad lounging sofa, those squab 
 easy chairs so alluring in their embrace, 
 the well-ordered tray at which you temper 
 your soda or seltzer with dry sherry or 
 cognac, according as you think you require
 
 24 Three Years. 
 
 stimulant- or sedative — all these, combined 
 with a decent Cabana, put one in a soothed 
 state of mind, and fit one to take part in 
 the improving conversation that charac- 
 terises most smoking-rooms. Well, if not 
 very improving, it is very pleasant, and 
 though we sometimes theorize on the 
 scandal the ladies talk in that half hour 
 after dinner, I fancy, when we leave the 
 smoking-room, they have not had much the 
 best of us. 
 
 Dunnington smoking-room was in full 
 blast. 
 
 " When is the Hunt Steeple-chase to 
 come off?" inquired Tom Lyttlereck, from 
 the depths of one of the before-mentioned 
 seductive chairs. 
 
 " Oh, not for two months yet," rephed 
 Charhe, " I wish I had something to put 
 in for it; but I don't think I have gob 
 anything fast enough. I should think that 
 beast Beercroft, the wool factor, would 
 win it. He can't ride himself; but tliat 
 big brown horse of his, The Slasher lie 
 calls it, is a clipper, and he'll easy get 
 some one to ride." 
 
 " I tell you what, if you like to give
 
 A Country Ball. 25 
 
 a fair price, I know of a mare just now 
 in the market that would beat The Slasher, 
 unless he's pounds better than I take him 
 to be." 
 
 " Where and whose ?" inquired Charlie 
 curtly. 
 
 " I don't think you know Cis Lano^ton — 
 one of the mysteries of the day — however 
 Cis is a man who breaks regularly every 
 two or three years ; sometimes he has a 
 largish stud, sometimes not even a hack. 
 Now you hear of his winning steeple-chases 
 and lots of money. Now that he has been 
 hit hard, and it's ' all up with Laugton.' He 
 disappears, and in a couple of years he'll 
 turn up again with a stud of horses and 
 everything apparently all right. However, 
 he has had bad times lately, and all his 
 horses are gone to the hammer with the 
 exception of one mare. The reason she 
 has not been parted with yet is, that Cis 
 thinks ' Polly Perkins' uncommonly good. 
 He has won a couple of matches with her, 
 but the only time he ran her in public 
 she came to grief, and was out of the race 
 half way round. Now, you could get that 
 mare cheap, if you would put in the con-
 
 26 Three Years. 
 
 tingency that if lie claimed lier before the 
 commencement of next huntinof season he 
 might have her back at the same money. 
 He's so sorry to be obliged to sell, I know 
 he'd rather take a shorter price and sell in 
 that way." 
 
 " Well, you write about it to-morrow ; 
 I'll stand anything in reason sooner than 
 see Beercroft win the Hunt Cup. He's so 
 cock-a-hoop about The Slasher too " 
 
 " I saw Polly Perkins run in the Hunt 
 Chase at Warwick," said Frank Forbes, 
 " she was as good as anything in the race 
 when she fell — full of running." 
 
 " Yes, she hadn't a good man up, she's 
 a delicate mouth, and wants rather clever 
 handling ; got fretful and over-jumped 
 herself." 
 
 " By the way, Hepton," said Forbes, 
 " what made you so serious in the wind up 
 of your ghost story to-night ? I should 
 not think you were a believer in * the night- 
 side of nature.' " 
 
 Charlie flipped the ash from his cigar 
 and took a long pull at some seltzer. " I 
 don't know what you call believing, you've 
 Scripture for the fact that such things were.
 
 A Country Ball. 27 
 
 I can't say I ever met one, and should 
 probably be in a devil of a funk if I did. 
 My theory all the same being that any 
 spirit or apparition you may see is per- 
 fectly powerless to hurt you, further 
 than it does through your nerves and 
 imagination. I certainly don't believe 
 that we can summons spirits from the 
 other world. But allowing for all freaks 
 of imagination, there are several ghost 
 stories in which it is difficult to find a 
 flaw, Lady Tyrconuell's, for instance, is as 
 well authenticated as most history we 
 believe in." 
 
 " Very good, Charhe," laughed Tom 
 Lyttlereck. " Your theory about ghosts 
 being powerless to harm us, you of course 
 took from Bj^ron, 
 
 " ' That soul and bodj- on the whole 
 Are odds against a disembodied soul ;' 
 
 however, you're perhaps right to stick up 
 for the family phantom." 
 
 " You never can be serious for a 
 moment, Tom," interrupted Charlie, when 
 suddenlv a distant shriek broke throuo-h 
 the muffled door of the smokino;-rooni.
 
 28 Three Years. 
 
 " Good God ! what's that ? listen," ex- 
 claimed Forbes. 
 
 Charlie Repton jumped to the door and 
 opened it — shriek after shriek in a woman's 
 voice immediately burst upon their ears. 
 
 " Candles, quick. Tom, light a candle. 
 By Jove, here's a row of some kind," and 
 snatching a candle, Charlie rushed down 
 the stairs, followed by his companions. 
 
 The shrieks evidently proceeded from 
 the long gallery. 
 
 Charlie Repton threw open the door — 
 he and Tom dashed in. On the floor lay 
 the youngest Miss Brereton in strong 
 hysterics, and faintly trying to raise her 
 was Laura CHppington. 
 
 " Good heavens ! Laura, what is the 
 matter?" exclaimed Charlie. 
 
 " Raise her up, please. You must carry 
 her, I think," said Laura, whose face was 
 very white, and whose lips trembled. 
 " I'll tell you all about it directly, Charlie. 
 It's very foolish, I daresay; but I'm rather 
 frightened. Poor girl, she's quieter now, 
 and I feel—" 
 
 Laura did not finish the sentence, and 
 if Tom Lyttlereck had not caught her, she
 
 A Country Ball. 29 
 
 would have falleiD to the ground. How- 
 ever, she did not quite faint, and after 
 drinking some water, came to herself again 
 with a little choking sob and rather tearful 
 smile. 
 
 By this time, people came popping out 
 from all directions, for Fanny Brereton's 
 screams had runs: throug^h the house. 
 
 What had happened ? What was the 
 matter? JSTothing. Miss Brereton had 
 been suddenly taken very ill and unable 
 to get to her room. 
 
 Laura's story, when she got a little 
 composed, to Charlie Repton, was this : 
 " Fanny Brereton came to our room 
 for a gossip when we went upstairs. 
 After about three quarters of an hour, she 
 took her candle to go to her own room, 
 the other side of the house. She was full 
 of your ghost story, and said she didn't 
 like crossing the long gallery by herself. 
 After laughing at her a little, I agreed to 
 see her safely across — and we started. 
 I opened the door of the gallery and a 
 rush of wind blew out our candles; the 
 door slammed behind us as Fanny gave a 
 slio-ht scream, and then we heard the noise
 
 30 Three Years. 
 
 of a rush of wings. Immediately afterwards 
 I saw an awful pair of eyes ; they glared at 
 us for a moment, then Fanny gave that 
 first awful shriek and fell down. Another 
 rush of wings — the eyes glared at me 
 again ' — a melancholy cry — • something 
 white flitted across the far window 
 throuo;h the faint moonlio-ht, and then, 
 thank goodness, you came ; for I don't 
 mind admitting, Charlie, I was fairly 
 frightened." 
 
 " AYell, I can't think what you saw in 
 the gallery ; but being in the dark with 
 that girl in hysterics was enough to 
 frighten you, let alone anything else. 
 You had better go to bed now and leave 
 Tom and I to take a turn round the 
 house." 
 
 "Good-night, then, Charlie; but mind, 
 though I was frightened, I never lost my 
 head, and I really did see and hear all I've 
 told you. Good-night Mr. Lyttlereck, and 
 thanks for all your care of me," and Laura 
 tripped upstairs. She was quite aware 
 that it was Lyttlereck who had caught 
 her and carried Iicr to a chair wdien slio 
 so nearlv fiiintcd.
 
 A Country Ball. 31 
 
 But tliough Tom and Charlie Reptou 
 made a most rio-id examination of the 
 gallery and the rooms adjoining, there 
 was nothing to account for Laura's story. 
 
 A country ball, who of us have not re- 
 velled in the fun of a country ball. Don't 
 we all know that wonderful jig-a-jig music 
 that recalls Richardson and the by-gone 
 days of Greenwich Fair to our recollec- 
 tion. How they exult in wild dances — 
 the rampant Schottische and stupendous 
 Varsoviana. How the stronof - minded 
 young lady of many country balls — it 
 would be cruel to ask how many — is re- 
 duced almost to fi^enzy because you do 
 not remember those dear old obsolete 
 Caledonians, and to this minute, I remem- 
 ber with horror the cold perspiration that 
 came over me, when having- en^-ao'ed mv- 
 self for the fifteenth dance to a black-eyed 
 young lady in pink, I found it marked 
 down in the programme as ' The Spanish 
 Dance ' — how I feebly wondered whether 
 it was indeed the Cachucha, and whether I 
 was supposed to have castenets in my 
 pocket. Then there is the gentleman with
 
 32 Three Years. 
 
 weak legs. Still witli unabated confidence 
 both in them and his own valsinof, thouofh 
 those legs have betrayed him so often. 
 Everyone but himself is quite aware that 
 at least once in the evening they will 
 double up with him like a camp-stool, and 
 a confused heap of muslin and broad cloth 
 be the consequence. Don't we all know 
 that dreadful sallow-faced young monster, 
 who dances like an india-rubber ball, and 
 with rather less idea of in what direction 
 he may be going — to whom the Valse and 
 polka are the same in step and time, and 
 who cannons his way about the room with 
 the most self-satisfied smirk. He is gene- 
 rally articled clerk to the attorney. 
 
 All these may be seen at any country 
 ball, and the room at Moretown bore the 
 usual aspect. The country people round 
 mustered in force, and thanks to Charlie 
 Ropton's exertions the band was better 
 than usual. The party froin Dunnington 
 was strong. Fanny Brereton's nerves had 
 sufficiently recovered, thanks to judicious 
 treatment, thougli, unless the girls had 
 encountered the unquiet Lord of Derring- 
 toQ and his victim, no explanation of their
 
 A Country Ball. 33 
 
 fright could be arrived at. Charlie's mind 
 had been very much troubled with the 
 mystery all day. Tom only laughed, and 
 told him he must be more careful how he 
 played on tlie imaginations of excitable 
 young ladies in futm^e, and pronounced 
 him to have an undeveloped talent for 
 melodrame. 
 
 " Our valse, Miss Laura," said Tom 
 Lyttlereck. " Do you see that extensive 
 head-dress opposite, with the little woman 
 that belongs to it ?" 
 
 Laura nodded. 
 
 " Well, I was so much struck that 1 
 made up my mind to ascertain who she 
 is. Imagine my ecstacy, she's a widow." 
 
 " I trust you and Charlie won't clash, 
 he's rather a taste that way," and Laura's 
 blue eyes sparkled mischievously. 
 
 " I know; but I don't think he'll inter- 
 fere in this case, one widow's enough at 
 a time for any man to look after. Who 
 and what do you think she is ?" 
 
 " Oh dear, I'm sure I can't say. Quite a 
 new specimen of the genus." 
 
 " Don't be severe. My heart's gone. 
 Her name is Simpson, and, as I am in- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 Three Years. 
 
 formed, slie comes of a genteel grazing 
 family, though whether the late lamented 
 Simpson left her mistress of many flocks 
 and herds I know not as yet." 
 
 " Give me an opening, Tom," said 
 Charlie, who with Mrs. Inglemere was 
 valsing just behind them. " We are on 
 an errand of vengeance," and Charlie 
 passed them best pace, and taking advan- 
 tage of the next corner cannoned the hete 
 uoir of the room dexterously amongst the 
 bystanders, as some slight satisfaction for 
 his partner's torn dress and his own trod- 
 den on toes. 
 
 Supper is over, the room thins a little, 
 and the real valsers settle steadily down to 
 their work. Charlie Repton has laid violent 
 hands on the orchestra ; ' eccentrics' are 
 struck out and the steady valse, gallop, 
 quadrille substituted in the programme. 
 Popular clamour is rising, however, mur- 
 murs are hoard at the suppression of the 
 last schottische, plaintive hopes are ex- 
 pressed in favour of the much loved Cale- 
 donians, and at their merciless excision 
 the towns-folk stand at bay and send forth 
 a lioarse cry for " Sir Roger."
 
 A Country Ball. 35 
 
 "It's all over," said Charlie, " we must 
 yield to the democracy. Voxj^opuUis trium- 
 phant. Come along, Minnie, and give them 
 a lead in Sir Roger." 
 
 " Of course, it's great fun, I like Sir 
 Roger though there is such grief amongst 
 our dresses. Only we can't expect Mrs. 
 Repton to see it out." 
 
 "Heaven forbid!" said Charlie, "I've 
 known it last an hour." Down the middle, 
 the whole room is soon lost in all the fun 
 and racket of Sir Roo'er. Skirts suffer 
 awfully, flounces and ribbons begin to 
 strew the floor. Frank Forbes introduces 
 a step or two from the ' Dusty Bob' 
 hornpipe, which thrills the breasts of the 
 natives with admiration. The weak-legged 
 young man of course doubles up, and col- 
 lapses in the centre of a ' down the middle' 
 best pace, nearly producing the effects of 
 a railway accident. What steps, incited 
 by Laura Chppington, Frauk Forbes might 
 have next displayed we can't guess. But 
 Mrs. Repton is signalling violently — the 
 Blue Peter is decidedly flying — opera cloaks 
 and carriages are loudly inquired for, and 
 
 D 2
 
 36 Three Years. 
 
 the Dunnington party are soon on their 
 homeward way. 
 
 It was the custom at Dunnington, and 
 a highly to be commended custom it was, 
 upon returning from these dancing cam- 
 paigns to muster for a supplementary 
 supper in the dining-room, at which en- 
 tertainment hot soup and sherry formed 
 a pleasing and prominent feature. Here, 
 as usual, our party are now assembled. 
 
 " Now then, Laura, I'm sure you must 
 be quite ready for soup and scandal," said 
 Charlie, seizing the soup-ladle. " Mrs. In- 
 glemere let me send you some." 
 
 " Mr. Forbes I'm sure you're quite 
 qualified to join the Christy Minstrels 
 after your performance to-night in Sir 
 Roger," said the widow. 
 
 " Charlie, can't you help Mr. Lyttle- 
 reck ?" exclaimed Laura. "He's lost his 
 heart to a widow in ' the grazing way ;' 
 won't you be his best man and let's haive 
 a pastoral wedding as soon as the weather 
 is warm enougli ?" 
 
 " Certainly. Tom, command me." 
 
 "Well, Miss Laura, I don't know that 
 the arraTigeuients fur my wedding are
 
 A Country Ball. 37 
 
 quite at your disposal yet. AYhen tliey 
 are, I hope you'll display equal powers of 
 administration," said Tom, quietly, and 
 there was something in his tone and the 
 glance that accompanied it that caused a 
 flush of the young lady's cheek, and a 
 rapid turn of the conversation. 
 
 " Well," said Agnes, " I think I must 
 ask for a candlestick. Thanks. Any one 
 else ready for bed ?" 
 
 The move became general. At the top 
 of the stairs those living the further side 
 of the long gallery stopped to say " good 
 night." Suddenly, two wild, mouruful 
 cries were heard, evidently proceeding 
 from the gallery. 
 
 " Shade of the Derringtons," exclaimed 
 Tom, as he opened the door, " your voice 
 is not melodious." 
 
 Ag^ain was heard the rush of win^s ; 
 again gleamed the awful eyes ; but the 
 rapid advance of half-a-dozen candles soon 
 gave a palpable reality to the white spectre 
 that flitted shrieking away from them. 
 
 What is it? It's a bat! Too big a 
 deal. It's a bird. An owl, by Jove ! 
 and what a big one ! And driven back by
 
 38 Three Years. 
 
 the caudles, there in the far corner of the 
 gallery crouched a huge white owl, sorely 
 dismayed, and blinking hideously, 
 
 " You wretch !" said Laura, shaking lier 
 finger at the captive. " How you did 
 frio-hten me last nig^ht." 
 
 " Yes," said Charlie, " I shall give orders 
 for his execution. Personating the ghost 
 of my ancestor is gross disrespect to the 
 family. I wonder where he got to last 
 night?" 
 
 " Ah ! I don't quite know how we missed 
 him," said Tom. "Stop — of course — how 
 stupid of us. Don't you remember the 
 door at this end of the gallery was open ? 
 Of course, he retreated that way." 
 
 Minnie and Laura Clippington were 
 completing their toilette for the night. 
 They had been chatting over the events of 
 the evening. 
 
 " By the way," said Minnie, " you and 
 ]\Ir. Lyttloreck seem to get on uncom- 
 monly well together. I think he's a little 
 smitten with you, sister mine. How long 
 it took you to say ' Good night !' " 
 
 " Nonsenscr, Minnie ; it was Charlie and 
 Mrs. Iriglemere caused all that stop on the
 
 A Country Ball. 39 
 
 stairs. However, Mr. Lyttlereck is very 
 nice, and what's more, he's — " 
 
 "Well, what?" inquired Minnie, "he's 
 what?" 
 
 Laura looked round at her sister, her 
 blue eyes dancing with fun ; then sud- 
 denly dropping them, said demurely, 
 " ' hooked,' my dear." 
 
 " "Why, you don't mean to say — " 
 
 "No, I don't mean to say," laughed 
 Laura. " Don't be foolish, Minnie ; go to 
 sleep."
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 A MATCH, LIKEWISE A CATCH. 
 
 It was a bright December moruing, and 
 the fleecy clouds floated high in the clear 
 grey sky. The sun shone cheerily down 
 on the barrack square of the little town 
 of Milton, one of those pleasant country 
 quarters which are now numbered among 
 the bright memories of the British Army. 
 
 I am writing of those halcyon days 
 before the Crimean war ; when competitive 
 examinations and Enfield rifles still lay 
 unconceived in the womb of Time ; before 
 ' camps' and ' the musketry course' had 
 set their inexorable grip upon our officers ; 
 Avhen an hour's drill after morning parade 
 was the regular routine, and field days 
 merely an occasional whim on the part of 
 commanding officer or general. Of course, 
 we were all woefully ignorant in those days
 
 A Match, lilceivise a Catch. 41 
 
 ia every profession. The march of in- 
 tellect yet slumbered ; metaphysics were 
 not supposed to bear much on the correct 
 commanding of a company, or geology 
 deemed an essential in the Civil Service. 
 The Indian people got on without a good 
 deal of knowledge that is now deemed 
 necessary in their vocation. I suppose it 
 was all wrong, and certainly with regard 
 to the army, the Crimean war seemed to 
 show that it could not be all right. Our 
 people fought as well as ever when they 
 were there ; but the science of getting 
 them there, and of keeping them alive 
 when they were there, seemed to have grown 
 a little rasty. However, they were plea- 
 sant those old days in the army. If we 
 hadn't much science, pluck pulled us 
 through the small rows in the Colonies, 
 and as for a European struggle, that was 
 supposed to have all ended at Waterloo. 
 Did not Manchester sing the Millennium, 
 perpetual peace, perpetual cotton, and dry 
 goods riz. When the struggle did come, 
 the fine old system undoubtedly rather fell 
 throuo-h. When the next comes, science 
 will have, perhaps, supplied artillery and
 
 42 Tlhvee Years. 
 
 mnsketrj witli a noiseless and smokeless 
 explosive agent, wliicli will make a battle 
 as quiet and scientific as a veritable game 
 of chess. 
 
 Well, in those days, Milton was as plea- 
 sant a station as a man need be quartered 
 in. The — tli was the only regiment 
 within miles. The people all round were 
 hospitable as Arabs, and if a man only 
 took things as they came, and was ready to 
 take part in whatever was going on, there 
 were plenty of houses to which you were 
 always welcome. In short, as Jack Tra- 
 vers was wont to say. '' You should have 
 a portmanteau always packed, and an ap- 
 plication for three days' leave constantly 
 in the order-room." 
 
 The parade is dismissed, and the officers 
 congregate in the mess-room, the late 
 men for breakfast — others to chat over 
 what should be selected for the afternoon's 
 diversion. 
 
 Louno-inj]: with liis back to tlio fire, 
 stands Jack Travers, a tall, good-looking 
 follow of some five or six-and-twcuty, and 
 as popular "a sub" as there is iu the 
 Army List. His sanguine, cheery, genial
 
 A Matcli, Ulceivise a Catch. 43 
 
 temperament and briglit smile are not to 
 be denied. Testiest of old gentlemen, 
 most acidulated of old ladies melt beneath 
 the abandon of Jack's manner. Nothing 
 can damp him ; nothing disturb his imper- 
 turbable good temper. Scrapes he is in 
 everlastingly, and glides out of them with 
 a facility all his own. The principal bane 
 of his existence is, his extraordinary weak- 
 ness for what in his vernacular he des- 
 cribes as " p-ood thino-s." From the 
 orchard-robbing days of his youth, when 
 he was invariably the scapegoat, until 
 now, he had pursued the phantom with 
 a confidence nothing seemed to daunt. 
 His ardent following up of " good things" 
 on Newmarket Heath when at Cambridge, 
 early procured for him an intimation that 
 his further residence at the University was 
 likely to prove neither profitable to himself 
 nor creditable to his college. Jack took 
 the hint, looking upon it much in the light 
 of another " good thing," and entered the 
 army. Here " good things" fell upon him 
 with such rapidity in the shape of " dark 
 ones" for the Lester, " morals" in the 
 fights, and other certainties that Jack,
 
 44 Three Years. 
 
 whose little money was at liis own disposal, 
 found himself at the end of two years in- 
 solvent past redemption. Fortunately for 
 him, at this crisis, a vinegary old aunt 
 who had quarrelled with all her nephews 
 and nieces, but had never seen Jack, hap- 
 pened to die. Disliking those she had 
 seen more than the nephew she had not, 
 she left him some five thousand pounds ; 
 but having had him invariably dinned into 
 her ears as a most irreclaimable scape- 
 grace, put him in for the only really " good 
 thing" ever done for him, by tying it up so 
 tightly that Jack was unable to get at the 
 principal. Since which, though sanguine 
 as ever, he had been compelled to prose- 
 cute his " good things" on a very limited 
 scale. 
 
 Seated at the table at breakfast, is an- 
 other man who deserves notice, more 
 especially as he is destined to play a con- 
 siderable part in this history. He is a 
 slight, sallow, (lark man, verging on forty, 
 and already shows a thread or two of 
 silvei' in his black hair. At the first glaiice 
 you would call Iiini a handsome man ; but 
 almost immediately you become conscious
 
 A Match, likewise a Catch. 45 
 
 of something sinister in Ms face. Eegular, 
 clean-cut features, tliin, passionless lips, 
 rather tight-drawn over white and regular 
 teeth ; very dark, keen, bright eyes, with 
 strongly marked brows ; there you see the 
 defect of the face, the eyes are placed 
 rather too near together. Captain Delpre, 
 for such is his name, is an habitually re- 
 served and rather silent man. A capital 
 rider, and a very good whist and ecarte 
 player, he exchanged into the regiment 
 some five years back, and of his antece- 
 dents his brother officers know little. He 
 is not given to talk much of his early days 
 or family. He began soldiering, they know, 
 in the Guards, but shortly exchanged from 
 them to a regiment in India, from whence 
 he came to the — th. Some rumours there 
 were that he had done queer things in the 
 East, and that his exchange was more a 
 matter of necessity than choice. But 
 there were not as many men passing to 
 and fro between the two countries in those 
 days as now, and nothing tangible was 
 ever alleged against Delpre. He was not 
 popular in the corps, and devoted himself 
 principally to racing and hunting.
 
 46 Three Years. 
 
 a 
 
 Well, what's everybody goiog to do 
 to-day ?" inquired Travers. " Herries, are 
 you for a rubber of rackets ? If so, I'm 
 your man." 
 
 " I don't mind for an hour or so ; but 
 what time is tliis pounding match to come 
 off, Delpre?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know ; about three I sup- 
 pose, eh, Eolls ?" 
 
 " Three '11 do stunning," said Travers, 
 "and we can all come out and see it. 
 Suit you, Crumbs, won't it?" 
 
 The individual thus addressed was a 
 good-looking boy about nineteen, his real 
 patronymic was Rolls ; but being small, 
 slight and youthful, the mild pleasantry 
 of the mess-table had christened him 
 " Crumbs." 
 
 " Oh yes, three will do very well for 
 me. I don't know whether Delpr^ will 
 think that's leaving him sufficient daylight 
 to pound the old horse in though," laughed 
 young Rolls. 
 
 " Let's see, what is the match exactly ?" 
 inquired Travers, " for I wasn't in the 
 room when it was made." 
 
 " Herries there has got the agreement.
 
 A. Match, likewiae a Catch. 47 
 
 It's all down in black and wliite," replied 
 Delpre, " he'll show it you." 
 
 "Well," said Herries, "there was no 
 hoi dins; Crumbs last uio^ht about the brown 
 horse. He was game to back him to go 
 through or over canals, houses, anything 
 you please. So Delpre at last offered to 
 bet him a tenner, that that grey horse of 
 his, that won the Calfbrigg Steeple-chase, 
 jumped something w^ithout fall or blunder 
 that the brown couldn't. To come off 
 this afternoon, owners up — " 
 
 " You will have your work cut out, Del- 
 pre, ' the brown' is as clever a fencer as ever 
 I saw. I should rather back him to put 
 the grey down than be pounded himself," 
 observed Travers. 
 
 " What a pity you won't study the 
 conditions of the match before you talk 
 about it," sneered Delpre, "if you 
 did you wouldn't talk such bosh about 
 ' putting down' and ' pounding.' You 
 don't suppose I am going to back my 
 nerve against Crumbs's, who, at his age, 
 doesn't know what nerves are. When he 
 has been as near breaking his neck as I 
 have, he'll ride with a deal less pluck and
 
 48 Three Years. 
 
 a (leal more juclo-ment. If you'll just 
 read the paper Herries lias got, you 
 will see that I back ' the Dancing Master' 
 to jump clean over, without fall or blunder, 
 something Rolls's brown horse doesn't. 
 If he follows me clean over everything I 
 lose, Herries to be judge." 
 
 "Any time mentioned," inquired 
 Travers, " or you may continue giving 
 leads indefinitely." 
 
 " No, by the way I don't think any limit 
 was put to the time. Put in one hour 
 from jumping the first fence, Herries. It's 
 merely I don't think that brown horse 
 quite so clever as his owner and some 
 more of you do. An hour will convince 
 either him or me." 
 
 " Well, I shall dress for rackets ; comeV 
 along, Herries. When do you throw ofi", 
 Delprc?" 
 
 " r don't know— let's see — we'll say the 
 Link fields at a quarter to three sharp, the 
 days are so short now. Rolls, too, seems 
 to think that I shall want a liberal al- 
 lowance of davliiifht to show whether 
 I'm right in my opinion of the brown 
 liorse."
 
 A MatcJt, Ukeivise a Catch. 49 
 
 "A quarter to tliree aud Eolls wins 
 for ten. Will you have it, Delprc?" 
 
 " Thank you, no, ' the Dancing Master' 
 is not always a perfect lady's horse across 
 country, and if he misbehaves it will be 
 very soon over." 
 
 A quarter to three saw a strong regi- 
 mental muster in the Link fields to say 
 nothing of a sprinkhng of sporting charac- 
 ters from Milton, for the match had oozed 
 out and excited no little interest in the 
 town. It does not take niuch to excite 
 interest in a small country town — a very 
 little causes a commotion in the stagnant 
 waters of its existence. Everybody knows 
 everybody else's affairs with such accuracy, 
 that they are no more a novelty than they 
 are to their legitimate proprietors. New 
 residents are a perfect treat. So much to 
 find out about them ; but the arrival of 
 new residents is far from an every day 
 occurrence in country towns. Well, it all 
 comes to much the same thing ; no need to 
 talk about a circumscribed existence and 
 of the petty feehngs and petty interests of 
 Little Pedlington. The interests of the 
 world our lot has cast us in always become 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 Three Years. 
 
 speedily identified with our own. What do 
 we care about the attitude of France at this 
 critical juncture, when the question is — will 
 the Smiths meet the Thompsons at our 
 hospitable board on Tuesday next ? What's 
 the lavish expenditure of the South Eastern 
 Railway to us, compared with the ostenta- 
 tion of the Jones's in starting that bottle- 
 green imp powdered over with buttons ? 
 The moral of all which is that we had bet- 
 ter be content with the pleasures within our 
 reach instead of sio-hino- for the unattain- 
 able. Do as the sporting community of 
 Milton did, turn out to look at a good 
 ' pounding' match, in default of an oppor- 
 tunity of seeing the Liverpool. 
 
 Much discussion was o^oinsf on about the 
 probable result. Both men were well 
 known with the hounds, so was the ' brown 
 horse.' Of ' the Dancing Master' they had 
 not seen so much. He had been out a iQ\7 
 times, but obviously only to qualify for 
 Hunt Steeple-chases, and except when he 
 won at Calfbrigg nobody had ever seen 
 him really go. Still the opinion of the 
 cognoscenti was that ho was a hot-headed 
 horse, and much more likely to conic to
 
 A Match, lilteiDise a Catch. 51 
 
 grief than ' the brown,' who as they all 
 said would both jump and crawl, and had 
 always a leg to spare. Of the particular 
 terms of the match it is needless to say 
 they were in ignorance. 
 
 The two horses were a great contrast. 
 Rolls rode his ' brown' on to the ground, 
 a hunter of the old stamp, short legged, 
 grand quarters, plain head and a shghtly 
 Roman nose — a httle lacking quality, and 
 evidently not a speedy one. Delpre rode 
 down on a hack, leaving his groom to take 
 charge of ' the Dancing Master.' He was 
 a grand horse to look at, and in almost 
 racing condition. A great slashing grey 
 about sixteen hands, deep girthed, splendid 
 fore hand, and with his thio^hs let down in 
 a way that denotes galloping. His small 
 clean head, well set on, certifies to his 
 being nearly thorough -bred, if not quite. 
 A rather wicked-looking eye gives the idea 
 of having a will of his own. At present he 
 is fretting a good deal, and requires the 
 entire attention of the groom upon him to 
 keep him within bounds, while he testifies 
 to the justice of his soubriquet by a good 
 deal of valsing on his hind legs. 
 
 E 2
 
 52 Three Years. 
 
 Tlie Link field is a large open common of 
 some hundred acres or so, traversed by an 
 unfenced road. On the north it is bounded 
 by the river, on the other sides principally 
 by grass enclosures with very moderate 
 fences. Here the cricket matches, foot- 
 ball matches, &c., of Milton take place, 
 and an occasional spin on ' the flat' is run 
 round it. For Milton does not aspire to 
 the dignity of races of its own, though it 
 occasionally gets up two or three matches 
 for an afternoon's sport. 
 
 " Bring him up, Tom, and let the stir- 
 rups down a hole," said Delpre, and in 
 another minute he was on the back of The 
 Dancing Master. 
 
 " Ready to start ?" inquired Herries. 
 
 " No," replied Delpre, as the grey ac- 
 knowledged his master with a couple of 
 plunges and a buck jump. " Rolls need 
 have no fear of my giving him a lead in 
 the dark ; but I must give this devil a short 
 gallop fiirst, just to steady him a bit," and 
 bending easily forward in his saddle he 
 sent the grey down the Link. 
 
 " He's a grand goer, certainly," said 
 Jack Travers, as he watched the grey
 
 A Match, UJcetoise a Catch. 53 
 
 striding along with ttie easy swing of a 
 thorough-bred, though tearing savagely at 
 his bit all the time. 
 
 Delpre's hand seemed motionless and as 
 rigid as a vice, and " he'll be bad to beat 
 at Nantyghlo, if you run him, Captain," 
 saluted his ears, as he rattled him home 
 the last quarter of a mile a burster. 
 
 Turning his horse quietly round, Delpre 
 led the way down to the fence leading out 
 of the common on the south side, a small 
 hedge and ditch. 
 
 " Now, Herries," he exclaimed, " I'm 
 ready. Travers, The Dancing Master don't 
 go very kind, but I think he can polish off 
 that brown cart horse ; you can have that 
 tenner if you like." 
 
 "It's a bet," quoth Jack, sententiously. 
 
 " I'll go you another tenner. Captain 
 Delpre," interposed the sporting doctor. 
 
 " Thank you, no — that'll do to begin 
 with. Ready, Rolls ? then come along," 
 and Delpre turned the grey at the fence. 
 
 The Dancing Master went at it open- 
 mouthed, as if he meant to be well into the 
 middle of the next field, and it seemed a 
 hundred and fifty yards before his rider
 
 5-4 Tliree Years. 
 
 fairly got hold of liim again. Crumbs on 
 ' the brown' topped over like a bird, and 
 leisurely followed his leader over two or 
 three small fences, the grey rather rushing, 
 the brown going cleverly, and quietly — 
 then Delpre led back into the Links field 
 again, and pulled up. 
 
 " Why, you've not done yet ?" exclaimed 
 Herries. 
 
 "No, not quite yet," was the reply, 
 " but this brute pulls so. Rolls, you've 
 got it in comfort, whatever may be the 
 result. I'll take six to four I win yet. 
 Thirty to twenty, who'll lay it ?" 
 
 " Dash it all, the brown's bound to 
 beat that tearing devil," said the sporting 
 doctor. " I'll go you half of it. Captain." 
 
 "You're on, sir. Won't anyone have 
 the remainder ?" The residue was snapped 
 at once. 
 
 " Confound it !" ejaculated Jack Travers, 
 as Delpre walked his horse a little away. 
 " It's the best thing out. I'll just offer 
 liitn sixty to forty, once." 
 
 " Don't be a fool. Jack," said Herries. 
 " What Delpre's dodge is I dont know ; 
 but you'll lose your tenner, certain. I
 
 A Match, lihewisG a Catch. 55 
 
 never saw Ms eye glitter like tliat, and 
 that pleasant grin on his countenance but 
 that somebody was not a Uttle the poorer 
 before long; you ought to know, he's ' had 
 you' often enough I'm sure." 
 
 Once more Delpre led off the Links over 
 a few small fences and back asfain as 
 before. Rolls following him easily of 
 course. ISTo bets were offered this time, 
 an uneas}?' feeling had got about that the 
 whole thing was 'a do.' To the astonish- 
 ment of all, Delpre this time walked his 
 horse towards the river. Pausing as they 
 crossed the road mentioned as crossing the 
 common from end to end, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Now, Herries, take your stand here, 
 you'll see as well here as anywhere. I 
 mean business this time, and either win or 
 lose my money." 
 
 Followed by Rolls he then went on to- 
 wards the river — the spectators remaining 
 grouped at the road. Turning at the river 
 bank he immediately set his horse going, 
 and bringing him up at racing pace, the 
 grey flew the roadway, some sixteen feet 
 from grass to grass, in his stride. The 
 whole thing was at once transparent — the
 
 56 Three Tears. 
 
 brown, of course, in spite of a taste of the 
 spur, galloped across it. 
 
 Shy looks and murmurs met Delpre as 
 he rode up to Herries, and asked if he had 
 won ; but little cared the Captain for that. 
 It was not the first time that he had found 
 himself anything but the idol of a race 
 course. Herries gravely admitted that 
 according to the wording of the agreement 
 he was the mnner, supplementing his 
 decision with the observation that it was 
 hardly in the spirit of it, he thought. 
 
 The Doctor was more out-spoken, and 
 said that had he had any idea of that sort 
 of thing, he should never have bet. That 
 he had come out to see a sporting match 
 and not a regular catch, and muttered 
 somcthino; about referrino; his bet to hio^her 
 authority before he paid it. 
 
 A good many others followed suit in the 
 same strain. 
 
 Delpre's speech on the occasion was 
 worthy of a better cause. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, " in the course 
 of my life, I have noticed that nothing 
 varies more than the different views people 
 take of a bet. It's one of my rules, conse-
 
 A Match, likewise a Catch. 57 
 
 quently, to have all such transactions 
 clearly defined in black and white. I had 
 it so in this case, and Captain Herries tells 
 you that I have won. Had you been on 
 my side you would have chuckled, being 
 on the other, you cry out. It's, human 
 nature, the biters grin and the bitten 
 whine. If people assent to black and 
 white agreements without understanding 
 them, I really can't help it. I never found 
 anyone sympathize with me when I forgot 
 to carry a penalty, and (here he smiled) I 
 have had to put up a good many in my 
 time." 
 
 " But," interposed the Doctor, " I 
 thought it was a pounding match ? I 
 did not understand — " 
 
 " Of course not, Doctor, and what a lot 
 of people there are in this world who do 
 bet upon things they don't understand. 
 What would become of ' the ring' without 
 them ? You'll have laid out your money 
 well to-day, if it makes you resolve in 
 future always clearly to ascertain what 
 you are going to bet about. I should re- 
 commend you all also not to be in too 
 great a hurry to back ' the Dancing
 
 58 Three Years. 
 
 Master' for Nantyglilo. In racing matters, 
 tlie public often pay for trying to pick out 
 the winner a little bit before the proper 
 time. Good morning, gentlemen," and 
 Delpre cantered leisurely from the ground. 
 
 '' Confound it ! Travers," said little 
 Eolls, ruefully. " What an infamous 
 do ! I knew he couldn't pound my old 
 horse." 
 
 "No, Crumbs, but he's got your money 
 without it, which I daresay, lie deems quite 
 as satisfactory. Sharp practice, very ! 
 By Jove, Herries, I may thank you for 
 saving me a good many sovereigns." 
 
 Considerable discussion took place about 
 the event of the afternoon that eveninof at 
 mess, at which Delpre happened not to be 
 present. 
 
 " ' To be jumped clean without a fall or 
 blunder,' so says the bond, there is no 
 getting out of it, Crumbs, he did jump it 
 and you did not. As for the words ' with- 
 out fall or blunder,' they are mere moon- 
 sliine, and just put in to blind us. It 
 seems the grey always jumped that road 
 whenever they galloped him there." 
 
 That was Herries' concluding remark of
 
 A Match, UJceivise a Catch. 59 
 
 a somewhat lengthy discussion of the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " Come and smoke a cigar in my room, 
 Herries," said Jack Travers, " while i 
 pack up my traps. I am off to town to- 
 night by the mail train." And the pair 
 left the mess-room for Travers' quarters. 
 
 Having ensconced Herries in an easy 
 chair, and provided him with a huge re- 
 galia. Jack commenced his preparations 
 for the road. First, making the passages 
 re-echo with the name of Nixon (why 
 don't they ever put bells in barracks) he 
 emptied the contents of a chest of drawers 
 on to the floor, and selecting such articles 
 from the heap as he required, threw them 
 to his servant to put up, accompanying 
 the process by a running commentary on his 
 wardrobe. 
 
 " Extraordinary the way everything you 
 don't want comes to hand on these occa- 
 sions. Flannel trousers, useful things in 
 December. Where are the dress shirts ? 
 not that you muflP with the frill on, that 
 was made to play an old man in at the 
 Ryalston theatricals. Racket shoes— sure 
 to want them in the country, of course.
 
 60 Three Years. 
 
 Whicli knickerbockeKS ; Why, you idiot ! 
 tliose are the trunk hose I wore in my 
 Charles II. dress at the fancy balL There's 
 a useful thing, Herries, blue frock coat ! 
 Money clean thrown away. Had to buy 
 that to ' make up' for best man at a 
 wedding. (Jack is a little theatrical in 
 his tastes). I wonder why washerwomen 
 never will by any accident fold one's white 
 ties twice of the same breadth ? Smokins^ 
 jacket ? yes, put it in. Cab come ? all 
 right. Take the traps down. Well, 
 Herries, good-bye, old man, drop us a 
 line to the old shop, and let's know how 
 you are carrying on here. I wonder how 
 many of the necessaries of daily life that 
 villain Nixon has omitted to put up? 
 He's as big a fool as ever packed a port- 
 manteau," and Jack dashed down the 
 stairs and jumped into the cab.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WHEN GEEEK MET GREEK, THEN WAS THE 
 TUG OF WAE. 
 
 I woxDEE if there is a time men feel 
 sadder than they do over a sohtary even- 
 ing pipe, preceded by a dull day in 
 which they have had nothing to do and 
 have been left pretty much to themselves. 
 How the mistakes of our life rise up be- 
 fore the mind's eye, and throw a melan- 
 choly gloom over the unravelled future; 
 our sins of omission and commission crop 
 up before us with a magnified intensity 
 that is bad to look at. AYe muse on the 
 dreams of our early youth and think sadly 
 how little we have realized them. As 
 Kingsley sings, 
 
 " When all the world is young, lad, 
 When all the trees are green. 
 And every goose a swan, lad. 
 And every lass a queen ;
 
 62 Three Years. 
 
 Then hey for boot and horse, lad, 
 And round the world away, 
 Young blood must have its course, lad, 
 And every dog his day." 
 
 All tliat time is gone, the trees are not 
 all green to us now, and the lasses are not 
 all queens. We know the geese from the 
 swans, and if we have had our day are fain 
 to confess that we have done very little in it. 
 
 Well, we think had we to live it all 
 over again, how different it should be, 
 and yet I question very much whether we 
 should do much better. We are all peni- 
 tent, when our sins like the chickens come 
 home to roost. We glance sadly at those 
 of our contemporaries who have passed us 
 in the race, and lay the flattering unction 
 to our souls that we never had their 
 chances. Shallow fools, as if man did not 
 make opportunities, or as if the time did 
 not always come to those who honestly 
 strove and patiently waited. 
 
 It is no use, my dear friend, you cannot 
 pick up the dropped stitches. You cannot 
 recover the lost time. The time spent 
 and the neglected opportunity do not re- 
 turn. It is no use meditating on when
 
 Wlian GreeJc met GreeJc. 63 
 
 * the tide in your affairs' took place or 
 where it led. You did not take it at tlie 
 turn, and had best make up your mind to 
 keeping your head honestly above water for 
 the future. Put down the pipe and pray 
 God help you to do better in the coming 
 time, and when ' the wheels run down' you, 
 
 " Creep home and take your place there 
 The spent and maimed among, 
 God grant yon find one face there 
 You loved when all was young." 
 
 I cannot say these were quite the reflec- 
 tions that ran through Delpre's mind as he 
 sat smoking a solitary cigar in his own 
 room. Kingsley's lines certainly would 
 not occur to him, for he had no more poe- 
 try in him than an oyster. I don't mean 
 that he confined his readings entirely to 
 BelVs Life and the Racing Calendar after 
 the manner of men of his type. He had 
 been originally meant for better things ; 
 but the demon of play had seized him for 
 his own, and poetry and sentiment had 
 died out of him. Biting articles in the 
 Saturday Bevieio on our social difficulties 
 were more in his line, and to a certain ex- 
 tent he read to talk. Never touching upon
 
 64 Three Years. 
 
 past reminiscences, there was an abnega- 
 tion of self in his conversation pleasant 
 from its rarity. He was generally well up 
 in all the current topics of the day, and 
 with men mostly got on well. Intimate 
 he never was with anyone. Women, with 
 their finer instinct shrunk from him, thev 
 mistrusted him intuitively, and disliked 
 and feared his bold sneering manner. It 
 had not been always so, but fifteen years 
 of a gambler's life had left him callous to 
 everything but self-interest, and cynical in 
 the extreme upon all points of honour and 
 fine feeling. He had not dined at mess as 
 before said on the night of the match, not 
 that he in the slightest degree feared any 
 allusion to his sharp practice. To do him 
 justice his contempt for public opinion was 
 unlimited. Self-reliant in the extreme, he 
 could trust to his cool head and bitter 
 tongue to control that sufficiently for his 
 purpose, and was fiir too selfish to trouble 
 his head about the likes and dislikes of 
 those among whom he might be thrown. 
 
 He had dined in his own room, and as 
 he sat smoking was going through the 
 process above described. Shadows of the
 
 WJie7i Greek met Greek. 65 
 
 past life so raispent alternately with the 
 griin skeletons of the present, and as the 
 smoke wreathed round his head his 
 thoughts seemed none of the pleasantest. 
 More than once did he rise from his chair 
 and pace the room. Again and again did 
 he glance over a heap of letters that lay on 
 the table near at hand. 
 
 " Confound it," he muttered, " the luck 
 seems against me all round. I can't see 
 my way out of it at all ; that hound David- 
 son, too, turning up just at this moment 
 looks awkward. Sharp practice they call 
 it, picking up that fifty to-day. Gad, if 
 I saw my way to five hundred, I think 
 they'd say then I don't stick at trifles." 
 
 He paused in his walk up and down the 
 room, and stood for a moment staring 
 into the fire and sucking hard at his cigar. 
 Then again glanced over some letters. 
 " ' Beg to call your attention to your bill of 
 three-fifty due on the 23rd proximo.' 
 Pleasant, and I haven't one to meet it 
 with. Hum, here's another. 
 
 C( ( 
 
 Dear Delpre, 
 " ' You, of course, have seen ere this 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 Three Years. 
 
 Kingfisher won ' the open' at Roxbj ; 
 consequently I win your four fifties. 
 Please pay to my account at Smith- 
 son & Cook's. Sorry to say I had a 
 baddish meeting. 
 
 " ' Yours, 
 
 " ' CONINGSBY ClAEKE.' 
 
 " Yes, you are quite right ; I did see it. 
 One don't overlook those sort of things 
 in the papers. H — m, Sadler's account. 
 Doublesoles ; hah ! a stiff one from Welt 
 and Overlay, both in style and amount ; 
 these can wait ;" and he threw them care- 
 lessly on the table. " Well, it's no use 
 cursiuo- one's luck. Let's look the thinaf 
 straight in the face, and see what I must 
 face at once. There's Clarke's two hundred 
 and the bill of three-fifty. Yes ; five hun- 
 dred would stop the gap for the present 
 if — ah ! there it is. It's no use, I can't 
 settle ; what's to be done till I have seen 
 Davidson." 
 
 He threw himself into the arm-chair, 
 and fell into a reverie. His thoughts 
 wandered back to his early start in the 
 Guards. How different he was then ; how
 
 When Greek met Greelc. 67 
 
 lie plunged with all the delight of a boy 
 into the sweets of a London life. Then 
 came that infernal scrape down at Tenby. 
 He behaved thundering bad there he knew. 
 Whether he had put himself within the 
 reach of the law or not he was doubtful at 
 the time ; but society would have jibbeted 
 him without mercy had it transpired. 
 
 Then came the long voyage to India, and 
 he thought of another fair face that looked 
 fondly up into his as they lingered late on 
 the poop during those gorgeous tropic 
 nights, and watched the Southern Cross 
 rise high in the heavens. His lip curled as 
 he thought how he had redeemed the vows 
 then made; of passionate letters unan- 
 swered, and of the last dignified womanly 
 letter in which she bade him farewell ; one 
 sentence, how well he remembered it, 
 though it was many years since he received 
 and destroyed that letter. " 'Twas left for 
 you, God forgive you for it, to teach me 
 how men could lie !" Yes, she played 
 in earnest, he j^our imsser le temps. Then 
 he thought of his life in India ; how he 
 loathed the monotony at first. He could 
 see now the old cantonment ; ho could pic- 
 
 Y 2
 
 68 Three Years. 
 
 ture to liiraself well the little club-house 
 in which he imbibed the rudiments of 
 play ; how he glided by imperceptible 
 degrees from the mild rubber to heavy 
 points ; how a little ecarte to wind up with 
 sooD became a regular occurrence. Then 
 he recollected how blind hookey and loo 
 superseded first the ecarte and then the 
 whist. He thought of how they settled 
 down to unlimited loo night after night, 
 he could see the club-room now; two or 
 three native sheroffs sitting, their bags full 
 of rupees and their inkstands ready, wait- 
 ing to furnish the money to take up the 
 I.O.U.'s with, at the finish of the play, and 
 to draw out those bills bearing^ such uncon- 
 scionable interest for the signature of the 
 losers. One night in particular he recol- 
 lected, how high and reckless ran the play 
 there. It was the last night that coterie 
 met. The next morning young Fitzpatrick 
 of the Artillery was lying on the floor of 
 his bungalow Avith shattered skull and a 
 discharged pistol beside him. kScandal had 
 whispered for some time of tlie proceedings 
 at the club-house, slie ran riot now. 
 Lost more than he could ever pay, poor
 
 WJien Greek met Greek. 69 
 
 fellow — three tliousand rupees, a lac, two 
 lacs. Foul play was rumoured; an inquiry 
 ordered ; but the five or six actors in the 
 drama kept their own counsel pretty much, 
 and beyond what the dead man's ' paper' in 
 the hands of the sheroiFs told, little oozed 
 out. He, poor fellow, had cut the knot of 
 his difficulties, and slept soundly in the 
 cemetery. 
 
 Again the scene changes ; he has left 
 the plains, and is on leave up at the 
 Neilgherries. Flirtation, play and scandal 
 are the leadino- diversions of that wicked 
 sanatorium. Once more the gaming-table 
 woos him to its embraces. There is horse 
 racing, too, and into both phases of 
 gambling he plunges wildly. What a row 
 there is about that handsome Arab of 
 Charlton's, first favourite for the Gold 
 Cup. How they talked when he came out 
 dead lame, and hinted he'd been got at. 
 What a lot of rupees he made out of that 
 business. Then came that row at the Club. 
 What fools fellows are to lose their temper. 
 The absurdity of recrimination. If they 
 had but kept quiet and held their tongues, 
 what could they have made of all that
 
 70 Three Years. 
 
 ecarte business witli young Stanfield. Tliat 
 fool, Davidson, he would drink. As if 
 men who played ever ought to touch 
 " Simpkins," more especially when they 
 are engaged in such ticklish games as we 
 were playing then. " It was devilish awk- 
 ward," he muttered, "and a great bore. 
 I was rather epris, too, with that pretty 
 Mrs. Simmonds. What an old beast her 
 husband was. Well, it finished Davidson, 
 and by Jove it was the closest shave ever 
 I had — just pulled through by the skin of 
 my teeth. Had to clear out and go back 
 to the regiment, and some of them looked 
 shy. They had got an inkling of the 
 story, evidently. Yes, 'leave home' was 
 the best thing I could have done. Then it 
 would never have done to face India again ; 
 that country was more morally hot for me 
 than physically ; and now just as things 
 are at their blackest, I get this note from 
 Davidson. Lost sight of him for years, 
 and trusted he was hung or transported 
 by this. 
 
 " ' Dear Delprc, 
 
 " ' I must see you. You remember tho
 
 When Greek met Greek. 71 
 
 Neilglierries. I don't want to rake up old 
 stories. If you donH, you'll say when and 
 where. It may be unpleasant for you if 
 you're not at home somewhere shortly. 
 
 " ' I am, 
 
 " ' Sincerely yours, 
 
 " 'E. Davidson.' 
 
 " Would it have been a bolder game to 
 tear it up and ignore it?" and Delpre 
 glanced at the dirty little note he held in 
 his hand. " I believe it would ; and yet 
 he could say too much. Still, he's a 
 broken man. However, it's too late now, 
 and circumstances must guide me during 
 our interview." Once more the smoke 
 rolled in heavy clouds round his head, and 
 again he stared vacantly at the fire. 
 
 A knock at the door, and his servant 
 entered. 
 
 *' Person to see you, sir." 
 
 Delpre's servant was accustomed to in- 
 troduce all manner of men to his master's 
 presence. Racing touts, betting men, 
 country reporters, pedestrians out of luck, 
 &c., so that the new comer elicited but 
 a passing glance as he ushered him into
 
 72 Three Years. 
 
 the room. He was a tall, gaunt, cadaver- 
 ous-lookiug man, with extremely short 
 sandy hair, and not a vestige of whisker, 
 moustache, or even eye-brow. A pair of 
 cold blue eyes, that generally seemed look- 
 ing into infinite space, never at anything 
 or anybody, and yet, as further acquaint- 
 ance would show, took in everything at a 
 glance. His dress was of the shabby 
 genteel order, both hat and boots showing 
 unmistakable signs of having seen their 
 best days. 
 
 The man bowed obsequiously ; but no 
 sooner had the servant disappeared than 
 he threw himself down in an easy-chair, 
 nodded benignly, and then observed, 
 
 "How do, Del?" 
 
 Delpre had to a certain extent marked 
 out his game. Perfectly unruffled he 
 shook hands with his visitor. 
 
 " Well, Davidson, glad to see you again, 
 it's years since we met, and I'm afraid the 
 world has gone hard with you. What will 
 you take? there's brandy, cold water, 
 and soda on the table, or that kettle will 
 boil if you put it on the fire for a minute. 
 Pipe or cigar ? make yourself comfortable,
 
 WJien GreeJc met OreeJc. ' 73 
 
 and then I'll hear what you want to see 
 me about." 
 
 A grim smile overspread the other's 
 countenance as he listened to this little 
 exordium. He coolly filled himself out a 
 stiff glass of brandy and water, produced 
 a short black clay pipe and filled it, then 
 turning as he stood on the hearth-rug, 
 he said : — 
 
 "Like you, Delpre, all over. You 
 begin with a thundering lie, saying you 
 are glad to see me. You think the world's 
 been using me hard since you saw me, do 
 you ? Well, picking oakum in Pentonville 
 aint quite the reward a grateful public 
 should bestow on one's services. You're 
 about right, I've had roughish times since 
 I was fast Dick Davidson of the — th, and 
 the boldest player at the Neilgherry Club. 
 I played pretty well on the square till I 
 met you. You taught me a thing or two ; 
 I fancy now it's my turn to become school- 
 master." 
 
 " Glad to hear you acknowledge old 
 benefits, Dick," replied Delpre, " I found 
 you untrained amongst the game cocks, 
 and taught you to use your spurs."
 
 74 Three Years. 
 
 *'You did for your own purposes," 
 liotly responded the otlier, " and a pretty 
 finish I made of it. However, I'm not 
 going to blame you altogether for that, 
 though you served us all pretty much the 
 same as the monkey did the cat when he 
 wanted the hot chestnuts, and no monkey 
 or man ever went for hotter chestnuts 
 than you did, Del." 
 
 *' Curse ' the salad days' in which I 
 played with confederates," muttered 
 Delpre. " However, you hardly came here 
 to talk over youDg Stanfield's ecarte 
 business ; the thing is dead, gone and 
 buried, and the raking it up would neither 
 much profit you or me." 
 
 " Certainly not you, as for me it would 
 matter devilish little what they raked up 
 about me. When Z 22 steps into the box 
 at Bow Street and says ' convicted of ob- 
 taining money under false pretences, your 
 worship, in June, '50.' I don't think 
 ' broke by court-martial for swindling at 
 cards' will be of much account afterwards." 
 
 Delpre smoked silently. Losing your 
 temper is losing your game, was one of 
 his axioms. What did this man want ?
 
 When Greek met GreeJc. 75 
 
 monev of course ; but to what extent ? 
 He was a convicted felon ; attempts to 
 extort money were dealt witli pretty stiffly. 
 How much really was he in this man's 
 power, he didn't know. The event must 
 show. 
 
 Davidson first broke silence. 
 
 "You are right, I didn't come here or 
 urgently want to see you to talk over old 
 times. It may be all very jolly for old 
 friends at ' the Rag,' who've not come to 
 grief; but conversation, except on the part 
 of the chaplain, is a little restricted at 
 Pentonville. I've not been moving much 
 in the higher circles lately," here he 
 grinned, " nor I suppose do you yet want 
 a lesson in thieves patter. You will some 
 day. I have come to see you because I 
 want what all the world wants — money. 
 I come to you because I don't see anywhere 
 else I can get it so easy." 
 
 " I thought as much, in fact what else 
 could you want. Your personal appearance 
 would hardly justify the belief that you 
 want me to join you in starting a Bank 
 Company (limited) or anything of that." 
 
 " Stow your chaff," interrupted David-
 
 76 Three Years. 
 
 son savagely, " I want money and mean 
 to have it. You liave only to coDsider one 
 thing, how to get it. It was a lucky 
 fluke for me happening to see that grey 
 horse passing through the town yesterday 
 morning. He caught my eye, for I kuow 
 a galloper when I see him yet, Del. Heard 
 he was yours, says I that's an old pal, 
 I'm about stumped, he's the man to set 
 me afloat again. For I know of old you're 
 not the man to leave an old pal in the 
 mire." 
 
 Here the ruflian leered pleasantly at 
 Delpre. 
 
 " You're quite right, Davidson, I am 
 not the man to leave an old friend in the 
 mud if I can help him out of it. Let's 
 come to the point at once. TVhat do you 
 want, to give you another start ? If ten 
 pounds is any use to you, you shall have 
 it." 
 
 " Ten pounds, ho, ho ! ten pounds ! 
 Liberality never Avas one of your vices. 
 You used to have a pretty good head for 
 reckoning up the weaknesses of your fellow 
 creatures ; in the old days few meu knew 
 the worth of iufora}ation better. Do you
 
 WJien Greeh met Oreeh. 77 
 
 tliink all your teaching was lost on me ? 
 that I have so utterly forgotten the science 
 of putting the screw on, as all that comes to ? 
 Do you think I have forgotten your master- 
 ly stroke about the Collector of Buntoor, 
 how you pooh poohed me when I wanted to 
 accept his compromise, and said if we stood 
 out he'd pay all rather than ffice exposure. 
 You were right, he did, Del. Do you think 
 that I did not treasure up the dogmas 
 that fell from your lips ? Are you fool 
 enouo-h to think after what I have told 
 you of my life since, that I have become 
 more innocent? Do you think I am jest- 
 ing ? Have you reckoned as I have what 
 exposure will cost you ? Do you think for 
 one instant, that any weakness for old 
 days, when we lived together, will shut 
 my mouth against the furtherance of my 
 own interests ? By heaven, it never was 
 any weakness of yours ! You've turned 
 driveller of late. The EngUsh turf must 
 find you far easier to deal with than they 
 did in India. Speak common sense, man, 
 ten tenners are not going to buy me." 
 
 And he gave a hoarse laugh and mixed 
 himself some more brandy and water.
 
 78 Three Years. 
 
 " Very good, Davidson," replied Delpre. 
 " I have heard your Httle rhapsody out, now 
 mark me. You will not find me, I think, 
 turned driveller, nor that I have quite lost 
 the head you so flatteringly gave me credit 
 for. As an old acquaintance I should 
 have given you your ten pounds in 
 your difficulties. Now I won't give you 
 one shilling unless you submit to my 
 terms." 
 
 " Terms, I hke that," broke in the 
 other. " I told you it was my turn to be 
 schoolmaster now — terms indeed — I have 
 come here to dictate my terms, and you 
 had better give in to them at once without 
 more palavering." 
 
 *' I should have thought," interposed 
 Del[)re, in his most sneering accents, " our 
 former acquaintance might have taught 
 you better than to measure yourself against 
 mc. Fool," he contiimed, in his most con- 
 temptuous tones, " what brought your 
 fate uj)on you ? you know better than I 
 can tell you. You drank like an idiot, 
 baljbled like a baby, and lost your temper 
 like a girl in her teens. AVe won't talk 
 about that. You paid for your folly and
 
 When Greek met Greeh. 79 
 
 nearly made me. As you didn't quite, I've 
 nothing more to say on tliat score." 
 
 " Never mind raking up the story of 
 the smash. I was a fool in those days, 
 and, as you say, paid for it. I intend you 
 to pay for it now. 1 stood to you well at 
 all events. I think I see your face now 
 when the judge-advocate put the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " ' Has any communication directly or 
 indirectly taken place between you and 
 Captain Delpre since your arrest, Mr. 
 Davidson ;' and I answered ' No,' perjur- 
 ing myself as you had done half an hour 
 before previously. Your lips twitched a 
 little then, my boy, as I hesitated. It was 
 all up with me through my own folly, I'll 
 admit ; but I saved you. Now I am going 
 to be paid for my services." 
 
 *' You had better have let me finisli 
 at once," and Delpre paused to knock the 
 ashes off his cigar. " If," he continued, 
 in measured tones, " a police ofiScer can 
 find you in Milton to-morrow by one 
 o'clock, I shall give you in charge for pursu- 
 ing your old vocation, attempting to obtain 
 money under false pretences."
 
 so Three Years. 
 
 " Do it !" cried the other, springing to 
 his feet. " You won't find me shrink 
 from it. Exposm'e has no terrors for me. 
 I fancy the fiilse pretences will hardly hold 
 water. A magistrate will think I have 
 some grounds for asking assistance from 
 you when he hears the story." 
 
 " Hold ! Your evidence to begin upon 
 is worthless, as you must first admit the 
 previous perjury. The law in England 
 does not allow people to swear that black's 
 white one day, and white's black the next. 
 There's such a thing as indictment for 
 perjury, as your Pentonville friends might 
 have informed you. Your story, I'll admit, 
 unpleasant for me, falls through, being 
 utterly unsubstantiated by corroborative 
 evidence. My friend, Davidson, you were 
 decidedly wrong not to take ten pounds !" 
 
 " "Was I ? And suppose I can produce 
 a letter in your hand-writing suggesting 
 wliat I should say and swear on that ac- 
 cursed court-martial. How then?" 
 
 Dclpre gave a slight start and exclaimed. 
 " You told me you had destroyed that 
 letter." 
 
 " I did, and told you no lie as I thought
 
 When Greek met Greek. 81 
 
 at the time. It was not till I was on my 
 way home to England that I discovered 
 that letter in ray dressing-case. Some 
 whim made me keep it. How now. You 
 don't seem quite so confident as you were. 
 I think you'll drop that police oflB.cer. It'll 
 be worse for you if you don't." 
 
 " Hum," said Delpre, who had by this 
 time full^; recovered himself. " It does make 
 a difference and I grant you that point in 
 your game at once. Now, my friend, I'll 
 sum up. I hand you over to the police if 
 you d(m'fc make yourself scarce ; this I 
 most assuredly shall do if we don't come 
 to terms to-night. You rake up and 
 accuse me of this old bygone story. You 
 a recently discharged convict from Pen- 
 tonville, formerly of Her Majesty's service, 
 from which you were ignominiously ex- 
 pelled for cheating at cards. You admit 
 to begin with, that on the court-martial 
 that broke you, or rather on that of your 
 fellow-swindler Belton, you were guilty of 
 gross and barefaced perjury. Not much 
 harm to me in all this. You produce a 
 letter written by me, (that is supposing 
 you have such a letter, which of course I 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 Three Years. 
 
 doubt), and on that really rests your 
 whole story. You're scarcely fool enough 
 to think that I shall hesitate, even if you 
 can produce such a letter, under the cir- 
 cumstances, to deny my own handwriting. 
 Forgery is a very likely accomplishment to 
 acquire at Pentonville." 
 
 " D — n it," cried the other, who was 
 considerably subdued by the cool reason- 
 ing of his opponent. " You always were a 
 clever one. But you quite forget to 
 reckon up the exposure part of it. There's 
 a good many in England, now, I dare say, 
 who can recollect that old Neilgherry 
 scandal. It wouldn't do you much good 
 I reckon." 
 
 Though he had not mentioned it, of 
 course this had not escaped Delpre, but 
 he had no idea of counting his adversary's 
 trumps for him. 
 
 " Not so many as you think," he re- 
 phed. " It's a long time ago. And who of 
 the one or two who may recollect it, will 
 think it worth while to travel down here 
 to back a convicted felon. You've no 
 money to pay a lawyer to show me up. 
 You've not a leg to stand upon. My dear
 
 When Greek met Greek. 83 
 
 Davidson, you were decidedly wrong not 
 to take that tenner." 
 
 " And how about your servant, when he 
 admits letting me in to pass the evening 
 with his master overnight. How'll that 
 look?" 
 
 Delpre laughed pleasantly. " Quite a 
 feather in my cap I assure you, I love doing 
 the intensely benevolent — old comrade — 
 bad scrape — would have done what I could 
 for him — find his past career disgrace- 
 ful — rejected the sovereign I offered 
 him with execrations — shockinsf to see a 
 man of education brought so low. Don't 
 wish to press the charge, &c. No, Davidson, 
 it's all up wdth you. I never drive a beaten 
 adversary quite to the wall ; it's not whist ! 
 There's the original tenner I offered you; 
 no jibbing now, you're out of Milton before 
 one to-morrow mind, or you'll take the con- 
 sequences. Ah, one more glass of brandy 
 and water if you like, though I think 
 you've had about enough, and then good 
 night." 
 
 Davidson, now thoroughly cowed, swal- 
 lowed his brandy and water in silence. 
 The old ascendancy that Delpre had exer- 
 
 G 2
 
 84 Three Years. 
 
 cised over Lim in by-gone years was 
 completely re-establised. His crest dropped 
 like that of a dog that has met his master. 
 Nothino- cows a scoundrel more than the 
 presence of his master in villainy. He 
 pocketed the ten pound note quietly and 
 took up his hat to go. 
 
 " Good night, Captain Delpre, and 
 thanks." 
 
 " Good night, Davidson. One word 
 before you go. Never try this game with 
 me again ; the next time, come what may 
 of it to me, and I think that will be little 
 to signify, it shall be penal servitude for 
 you, my man. You know me I think — 
 good night." 
 
 " Good night," muttered the other, and 
 turned to leave the room. 
 
 " Stop," said Delpre. " You may be ot 
 use to me, or rather I may be able to 
 throw a job in your way some time or 
 another. Where are you to be found ?" 
 
 "Well, 'The Three Crocus's,' Holborn, 
 will find me for the present. When that 
 won't, I'll let you know what will." 
 
 " All right, not too many letters mind," 
 and Dav^idson departed.
 
 Whe7i Greek met Greek. 85 
 
 "Well out of that scrape," muttered 
 Delpre. " He was nearer drawing me for 
 fifty once than he knew. I couldn't have 
 stood any raking up of that old business. 
 Lucky I knew my man, he never had any 
 pluck when collared. Wonder whether he 
 really has that letter ; if so, I must have it ; 
 wouldn't have done to treat it as of any 
 consequence to-night." With which ob- 
 servations he undressed and went to bed.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE THEEMOPOLIUM — THE LADY OF KING's CEOSS. 
 
 Soft shines tlie o^as tlirouo:h the n-round 
 glass shades in the smoking-room of tlie 
 Thermopohum. Lightly play the sinoke 
 wreaths round the well brushed heads of 
 the occupants of that paradise of London 
 smoking-rooms. Softly tinkles the bell, 
 and well trained waiters take soft modu- 
 lated orders for curacoa and seltzer, the in- 
 sinuatins: mn slinf>' or the more ardent 
 soda and cognac. The smoking-room of 
 the Thermopoliura is in all the well-bred 
 decorous repose of eleven o'clock in the 
 evening. Anon as ' the witching hour' 
 approaches, the members assume a less 
 decorous appearance. The bell rings with 
 a sharp jerk, the conversation ceases to 
 trickle in the subdued tone now character- 
 izing it, the waiters quicken in their
 
 The Thermojpolmm. 87 
 
 movements, tlie orders for curious and 
 soothing liquids are delivered in sterner 
 and more commanding tones. The buzz 
 of conversation deepens, peals of laughter 
 re-echo through the room. The best chaff 
 and the latest anecdotes fly about from 
 knot to knot, and a light cloud collects 
 under the ventilating gas burner. The 
 room is filling fast ; the tlieatres send back 
 their bored or delighted votaries as the 
 case may be. You hear of the intense 
 dreariness of that thing at the Haymarket ; 
 of what a capital piece they are doing at 
 the Olympic ; how stalls couldn't be got 
 at the Adelphi, or vice versa. 
 
 Into this pleasant den of scandal and 
 dissipation saunters Jack Travers, clad in 
 shining raiment, that is, in the white tie 
 and sombre habiliments of the nineteenth 
 century. As he looks round for a seat, 
 he is accosted by a gentleman who is con- 
 suming his tobacco on his legs with his 
 back to the fire. 
 
 " How do, Travers, haven't seen you 
 for ages ; where have you been ? Country 
 quarters, I suppose, you look like it. 
 Collar's out of date, and hair wants cutting,
 
 88 Three Years. 
 
 the usual siG:ns, Take a weed, Pontet 
 gives tliem me." 
 
 " How are you, Coniugsby ?" said Jack, 
 laughing, "delighted to see you, and try 
 your baccy. Let's sit down and have a 
 talk." 
 
 " Good," replied Coningsby Clarke, a 
 fast subaltern of dragoons, and. by no 
 means a bad fellow, in spite of his affecta- 
 tion. " I have burnt myself nearly brown 
 in my benevolent endeavours to keep the 
 fire off old Caribosh there ; he has been 
 snorting at me and using the most fright- 
 ful language internally for the last five 
 minutes." 
 
 " Where are you quartered now ?" in- 
 quired Jack. 
 
 " Kensington Gate. All very nice if 
 Government would attach the same salary 
 to it they give a Lord of the Treasury, 
 and keep some policemen to do the escort 
 duty. But where do you spring from ?" 
 
 " Milton, South Wales," replied Jack, 
 " and a deuced good quarter too." 
 
 " Oh yes, I know, tliey make iron, dig 
 coal and that sort of thing ; what they 
 call an enterprising and thriving popula-
 
 The ThermojyoUum. 89 
 
 tioD. Abounds, I believe, in illiterate 
 heiresses. Miss Mertliyr Tidvils who 
 can't spell. You marry a heap of pig iron 
 and a rather short quantity of h's. Any of 
 your fellows done it ?" 
 
 "Well, no," laughed Jack, "and I 
 should recommend you to explore the 
 country before you hazard any more er- 
 roneous opinions." 
 
 " Thanks, but the Horse Guards, I hear, 
 destine Ireland for our researches next 
 year. We are in for bigger game you 
 see, Jack. You are advising a man to 
 go and see the Lakes who has got his 
 ticket for Niagara — to tour iu Devonshire 
 when he's booked for the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. How's Delpre ?" 
 
 " All right, and uncommon wide awake," 
 replied Jack, and he related the story of the 
 match. 
 
 " Cute, very cute ! Coming it a little too 
 strong though amongst his brother officers, 
 1 should say. You're on leave, of course 
 — for how long ? Going to stop in town 
 or what ?" 
 
 " No, I am only passing through; going 
 down to see a steeple-chase and shoot in
 
 90 Three Years. 
 
 Blanksliire with Charlie EeptoD. What's 
 the news here?" 
 
 " Things much as usual, ' old Fluker ' 
 anathematizing his luck and dividing two 
 pools out of three on the average. Tom- 
 kin son still a source of horror and tribu- 
 lation to the waiters. Caribosh there 
 habitually harrying the same unfortunates 
 on the subject of drafts and fires. I won- 
 der he hasn't rung for more coals, or to 
 have the door shut since we sat down. 
 Young Shadrach going through the mill 
 in the next room," here Clarke jerked his 
 head in the direction of the card-room, 
 " and a goodish Indian story from Cucum- 
 ber Smith. AVish the Cucumber was home 
 again, he always kept us alive here." 
 
 " But who's Shadrach ?" inquired Jack. 
 
 " Who is he ? A lineal descendant of 
 those who spoiled the Egyptians ; though 
 just now, I fancy the Egyptians are rather 
 getting tlieir own again. Ho would pro- 
 bably call liimself the son of a great city 
 financier. I should describe him as the 
 son of a mighty Bill Discounter. By some 
 accident he's got a cornetcy in the — th, 
 and true to his blood, is an aspiring money-
 
 The Thermoioolmm. 91 
 
 maker. The little brute deserves no mercy, 
 for he is a cad after the order of Melchi- 
 sadec ; however, he believes in his whist 
 — other people don't. Backs his opinion 
 freely, and will soon have to pay for find- 
 ing his knowledge of the game a little 
 defective. But you are certain to see him 
 in here ere long. He generally drops in 
 when he ' cuts out,' with a cigar as long 
 as himself, and inflicts hideous anecdotes 
 about the thirteenth trump on the unwary." 
 
 " And how about the Cucumber's 
 story?" 
 
 *' Oh, that's soon told. Someone here 
 had a letter from him the other day. I 
 forget who just now, though I saw it. 
 However, after mentioning that he had no 
 chance of getting home this year, he went 
 on to say : ' We used to laugh over what 
 we called a regular old Indian yarn at the 
 Thermopolium ; but I give you my honour 
 you must come to the country to hear the 
 thing done in perfection. When at Rome 
 ' Givis Bomanus sum.' So I hastened to 
 adapt myself to the usages of the land, and 
 at my first dinner-party told two or three 
 stiffish stories, that I should hardly have
 
 92 Tlivee Years. 
 
 ventured on in England. My good fellow, 
 I was nowhere. The youngest griffin 
 there could have given me two stone and 
 won in a canter. To develope the imagi- 
 nation to the extent they bring it, I'm 
 quite sure you must have the Indian sun 
 applied to the brain at eighteen. I have 
 submitted my brains to that ordeal too 
 late in life ever to compete in the realms 
 of romance with my ' better done ' com- 
 patriots. The last and most magnificent 
 specimen I secured of the veritable Indian 
 story I send you. It was hot, aye, con- 
 foundedly hot (they lie fearfully, mind, 
 on the subject of the heat, do these ro- 
 mantic East Indians) ! It was the middle 
 of the hot season. I loung^ed into mess 
 not with much idea of eating anything, it 
 was too hot for that, but because driukino: 
 claret cup under a punkah was the best 
 way of killing time that occurred to me 
 just then, I dropped into a chair next an 
 old Indian colonel, who saluted me 
 with — 
 
 " ' Hah, Smith, how are you ; devilish 
 hot, isn't it ? how do you stand it ? how's 
 the appetite ? can you eat anything ?'
 
 The Thermopolimn. 93 
 
 cc 
 
 'Well, no, Colonel; I can't say I'm 
 good at eating tliis weather. I tell you 
 what's not a bad thine:, barringf it's bilious 
 sort of food — that is an egg beat up in a 
 glass of sherry. I can always get that 
 down.' 
 
 " ' Oh, you adopt that, do you ? Curious ! 
 I recollect when I was up in the Punjaub 
 in 1843, yes, it would be 1843, the time of 
 the Meanee affair, you know. I was in 
 the Thirteenth, then. We had a droll dog 
 in them called Tom Simmonds. That was 
 one of his receipts for getting through the 
 hot weather. I think I hear him now ! 
 ' Boy,' he'd cry, just before leaving the 
 mess. ' Bring me my medicine !' and 
 they used to bring him a mighty jorum of 
 eggs and sherry. Yes, curious ! he used 
 to drink that off every night — odd of him. 
 Thirteen eggs he used to have ; just the 
 number of the regiment, you know, beat 
 up in thirteen glasses of sherry every 
 night — fact, sir ; 'pon my honour ! 
 
 " ' Not a muscle of that gallant officer's 
 face moved as he imparted to me that 
 gratuitous falsehood. Fancy a man top- 
 ping up his evening with a bottle and a
 
 94 Three Years. 
 
 half of sherry, with thh'teen eggs beat up 
 in it, and not once, mind, but according to 
 nightly custom ! If anybody at the Ther- 
 mopolium can beat that, send him out to 
 us as Governor-General !' " 
 
 "AYell, yes," laughed Jack, "I'm afraid 
 ■we've no one can pass that ; I should think 
 that colonel was a deuced pleasant fellow 
 to pass the evening with." 
 
 " No doubt. Ah ! here comes Tom 
 Archer." 
 
 A stout fresh-looking man in morning 
 costume made his way to their table, 
 nodded to Clarke, shook hands with 
 Travers, and sat down. 
 
 " What are you two scapegraces grin- 
 ning at? Have you really found some- 
 thing funny at one of the theatres — or 
 has Coningsby unexpectedly said a good 
 thing? if so, let's have it. It will be 
 valuable from its rarity." 
 
 What Archer was or did, was one of the 
 mysteries of the Thermopolium. He knew 
 everybody and everything. Could talk 
 operas or metaphysics, and had stood still 
 at forty-five since anyone could recol- 
 lect.
 
 The Thermojyolium. 95 
 
 " Tell Mm Smitli's story about tlie eggs 
 and sherry," said Jack. 
 
 " Ob, all, a fellow that took his egg 
 nog by the kilderkin, I recollect. Should 
 think the Cucumber's been inventing that 
 ever since he went out. Nobody could 
 have told it au serieux, though he says he 
 heard it. I've been over to Paris for ten 
 days — saw Belle Brabazon there, look- 
 ino- handsonier than ever — wonder whether 
 it's true she's going to marry Bartley, they 
 say so. AYhat's Charlie Repton say to it? 
 he used to be very devoted there all last 
 season ; but then Repton always is to 
 some woman or other. Just one of those 
 fellows who hover on the brink of matri- 
 mony half their life, and wind up by mak- 
 ing a devil of a mess of it. Shouldn't 
 wonder if he does. I must say I thought 
 he meant business with ' the Brabazon' 
 though. Why he used to contrive to get 
 dovvn to the Park in the mornino- to ride 
 with her, and though Charlie could always 
 make strong running in the evening, his 
 morning devotions were usually of the most 
 milk and water description." 
 
 '* Who is Bartley ?" inquired Jack.
 
 96 Three Years. 
 
 " Don't know exactly ; heavy swell on 
 the Stock Exchange. Never had any an- 
 cestors I should think. Drives a solemn 
 looking mail phaeton, with a splendid pair 
 of grej^s and rather too much gingerbread 
 about the whole turi^ out." 
 
 " I am going down to stay witli Rep- 
 ton," said Jack, " and I'll tell him what you 
 think of him, and what he'll come to if he 
 don't reform.'' 
 
 " No, you needn't do that, though he 
 knows pretty well what I think of him. 
 Well, Coningsby, my son. How's Ken- 
 sington Gate ? It's a comfort to see you 
 looking so well with all the cares of 
 that important post on your mind." 
 
 " Kensington Gate is as it was ; but 
 we're going to Ireland in the spring, there- 
 fore make much of your Coningsby while 
 it lasts, for the time is coming when you 
 will see him no more — when fie will be 
 beyond the reach of your soft invocations 
 to Richmond feeds, and you will say ' we 
 could have better spared a better man.' " 
 
 " Sorry to liear that, but I notice you 
 fellows quartered in Ireland still spend as 
 much time as you can contrive in England,
 
 The Thermojjoliiim. 97 
 
 So I shan't despair of hair breadth escapes 
 on the way home from Greenwich in your 
 company before long." 
 
 " Oh, what fun we had that day. Wish 
 you had been there, Jack. You might 
 have sung ' Cigars and Cognac' to the top 
 of your bent that night. Are you still as 
 * spoony' on that beautiful ballad as you 
 were ? The first time I heard you, I be- 
 lieve you sang it three times and nobody 
 could stop you." 
 
 " A truce to your reminiscences, I'm off 
 to roost. Halloa, who's that?" and Jack 
 called attention to a slight dark youth 
 with a Jewish cast of countenance, rather 
 overdone in the matter of studs and but- 
 tons, who had just entered. 
 
 " Shadrach the Israelite," responded 
 Clarke, " I told you about him. Don't 
 you see the way he keeps spluttering 
 about, as if he had a hair in his mouth. 
 Sure sign he's been losing. He never can 
 help showing it. They can't even teach 
 him to lose his money like a gentleman. 
 How do. Shady. Been making your for- 
 tune to-night ?" 
 
 " How are you, Clarke ? No, that fool 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 08 'fhree Years. 
 
 Forster trumped my best spade. You 
 never saw such a case. I'll just show it 
 you." 
 
 " Sorry, but my ball's waiting for me 
 at pool in the next room. Forster never 
 could play whist. Good-night, Jack," and 
 with a nod to Archer, Coningsby Clarke 
 departed. 
 
 Travers followed his example, and 
 smoked a meditative cigar as he strolled 
 home. 
 
 A cab deposited Jack and a pile of lug- 
 gage at the King's Cross terminus the next 
 afternoon. Consig^ninof his bae^jTapje to the 
 hands of a porter, he lounged towards the 
 booking office. There was a crush for 
 tickets, and his attention was arrested by 
 a good-looking ladylike girl who was vainly 
 striving to reach the little window. A 
 great stout vulgar-looking man, with one 
 of those extremely sliiny hats extremely 
 vulgar men generally affect, pushed rudely 
 across her. She drew back with a hurt 
 gesture, and a look of mingled scorn and 
 indignation flashed across her face. The 
 chivalry of Jack's nature was roused. Pre- 
 cipitating himself violently upon the stout
 
 The Thermopolium. 99 
 
 gentleman's toes, be ground his ribs re- 
 morselessly against tlie corner of the box 
 placed in front of the ticket window, elicit- 
 ino; the exclamation of, 
 
 " Alloa, alloa ! — puff puff. 1 say. Con- 
 found it young man — puff. Where are 
 you a shoving to ?" 
 
 " Trying to get out of this young lady's 
 way," urbanely responded Jack, as he 
 gave the stout man's ribs another rasp on 
 the bar corner. 
 
 " Tell you what it is, young feller ; you 
 want the cheek taken out of you, I think." 
 
 " Quite the other way, and to begin 
 with, take off your hat when you speak 
 to a gentleman," and Jack dexterously 
 topped off the shiny hat. 
 
 " I tell you what it is, I'll punch your 
 'ead if you don't pick up that 'at," puffed 
 the gentleman, foaming. 
 
 " I shan't do the one, and you won't do 
 the other," said Jack, and after a brief 
 survey of Travers' face, the irate gentle- 
 man came to the conclusion that carry- 
 ing out his threat looked hardly feasible, 
 and condescended to pick up his own 
 hat. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 Three Years. 
 
 The young lady's face bore an expression 
 of mingled gratitude and amusement. There 
 is nothinof women feel more o-rateful for 
 at the time, than the sharp correction of 
 an impertinence they are themselves power- 
 less to resent. The crest-fallen appear- 
 ance of the discomfited cockney as he 
 picked up his hat, brought a triumphant 
 smile to her lips, and with a slight bow, 
 she said, 
 
 " I thank you, sir, for kindly taking my 
 part against that ill-bred person. I have 
 often travelled alone ; but little in En- 
 gland. Abroad, the commonest labourer 
 would have made way for me." 
 
 " Can I be of any further use ?" inquired 
 Jack. 
 
 " Thanks. Will you take me a ticket 
 for Hitchin ?" 
 
 Jack complied, and as she paid him out 
 of a slender little purse, glanced curiously 
 at the lady whose part he had so sud- 
 denly espoused. 
 
 She was very young, not above sixteen, 
 with a bright sunshiny face, large brown 
 eyes and great masses of hair to match, 
 that almost defied the control of her bon-
 
 The ThermopoUmn. 101 
 
 net, and tlireatened to tumble down and 
 envelope her every moment. Tall and 
 quietly dressed, though, in a style that a 
 more practised eye than Jack's would have 
 pronounced slightly foreign — she spoke 
 and moved with a free, easy, unconstrained 
 carriage, and acknowledged Travers' cour- 
 tesy without the slightest awkwardness, 
 and as if it was no more than behoved a 
 gentleman under the circumstances. 
 
 " Let me see after your things and put 
 you in a carriage." 
 
 She bowed, and Jack proceeded to see 
 the luggage duly labelled, a proceeding in 
 which the young lady obtained an undue 
 advantage, insomuch as Jack's gun case 
 set forth his name and res^iment in full, 
 while her trunks bore no name or address. 
 
 " You won't object to me as a fellow- 
 passenger, I trust," said Jack, as he 
 handed her into a carriage, 
 
 " Certainly not. Like a damsel of old, 
 I feel bound to reward the kniorht errant 
 who so fearlessly broke a lance in my 
 cause," she replied, laughing. " If all 
 people's ribs who displeased me were des- 
 tined to be so unpleasantly visited as my
 
 102 Three Years. 
 
 fat enemy's, I should be a most formidable 
 person to provoke." 
 
 " I can only trust I may be always in 
 the way when needed." 
 
 "Don't make foolish speeches, sir; you 
 have rendered me a service," she continued 
 gravely, " and I am sure do not wish to 
 oppress me with a sense of it." 
 
 " I beg pardon, I didn't mean," floun- 
 dered Jack, in all the hopeless perplexity 
 of being engaged in conversation with a 
 lady whom he couldn't make out. 
 
 " Not at all, I expect you to be extreme- 
 ly entertaining mind, and tell me the 
 names of all the places we pass. It's all 
 so new to me ; though I am an English 
 girl, it's years since I saw ni}^ own 
 country." 
 
 " You've lived abroad ?" sug^c^ested Jack 
 ingeniously. 
 
 " Yes, in France or Italy since I was 
 ten years old. I only returned to England 
 about a year ago." 
 
 " And are you going to live at Hitchin ? 
 it's a pretty place." 
 
 " Not fair, sir," she said, *' it's not cus- 
 tomary fur young ladies to furnish their
 
 The Thermopolmm. 103 
 
 addresses to gentlemen who may be their 
 fellow travellers, however useful they may 
 make themselves. Do you know what I'm 
 thinking of?" she continued, laughing. 
 " I was thinking of my fat friend's face as 
 he picked up his 'at. The self-satisfied 
 complacent expression was so thoroughly 
 taken out of it. Do you know I was wicked 
 enough for one moment to wish he would 
 try to make you pick it up." 
 
 " Why ?" inquired Jack. 
 
 " Well, I was very angry, and I thought 
 if he did, he would not forget insulting me 
 for some time." 
 
 " And pray, what did you think on my 
 account ?" 
 
 " Pshaw," she rejoined, contemptuously. 
 " T had no more thought on your account 
 than you had. It would have been a very 
 poor compliment. Monsieur, to have 
 thought of you under the circumstances." 
 
 " Well," laughed Jack, " I can't say I 
 think there was much to be nervous about 
 as far as I was concerned." 
 
 " Ah," she continued, " I am going 
 through a sterner battle to-night. Meeting 
 relations whom I have never seen, and who
 
 104 Three Years. 
 
 will no doubt bo all prepared to tliiuk 
 badly of me on account of my foreign edu- 
 cation. Dear me, I suppose I must give 
 up being lively for fear of skocking tliem, 
 and they'll think me dreadful if I talk, 
 won't they ?" 
 
 " Well, they must be hard to please if 
 you don't satisfy them," said Jack. 
 
 "What, compliments again!" and she 
 merrily menaced Jack with her parasol. 
 " Prenez garde. Monsieur, I shall reckon 
 you but some carpet knight after all. 
 ' Honest and true' is mv motto You have 
 worn my colours to-day; you may adopt 
 my motto. Oh dear, how shall I get on I 
 wonder ? I have always been allowed to do 
 as I liked ; I am quite a spoiled girl, and 
 now I shall have to keep regular hours and 
 be so dreadfully particular." 
 
 " I daresay they will be kind enough to 
 let you have your own way pretty much, 
 I should fancy you'd get it wherever you 
 went in the long run." 
 
 " How dare you say such things, making 
 me out artful and designing. For that's 
 what you moan, I suppose." 
 
 " Can't you fancy your getting your own
 
 The Thermo'polium. 105 
 
 way witliout being anything of that kind ?" 
 said Jack, much amused. 
 
 " And if T can," laughed the young 
 lady, " you have no business to fancy it." 
 
 "I'll say nothing more then; but that 
 you've a way of your own which passeth 
 my dull comprehension, but in the efficacy 
 of which I have no doubt, and I prophecy 
 in less than a fortnight you'll be the tyrant 
 of that unfortunate household," and as 
 Jack comtemplated the bright face and 
 graceful figure opposite him, he thought 
 they must be very grim people indeed who 
 could say no to anything her clear ringing 
 voice might request. 
 
 She looked at him, an arch smile playing 
 on her lips, and showing a beautiful set 
 of teeth though in a rather large mouth. 
 
 "You recreant knight !" she exclaimed, 
 " to turn round upon me thus, instead of 
 compassionating my position, you accuse 
 me of aiming at tyranny and despotism." 
 
 " I accuse you of nothing, I only pro- 
 phecy. I'll say no more. Treat that 
 family as leniently as you can." 
 
 " Very good, sir. I'll remember how 
 you interceded in their behalf, and as I
 
 106 Three Years. 
 
 am strong, be merciful. I am very good 
 wlien not provoked, and very amiable when 
 I have my own way. Oh, how cold it 
 looks !" and she shuddered as she looked 
 out of the ^dndow. 
 
 " Yes, it's not the time of year ' our 
 native land' looks at its best ; especially 
 for ladies. They have so little to do in 
 the country during the winter months, I 
 always pity them. They can't shoot, very 
 few of them hunt. Too cold to drive for 
 pleasure — too dirty to walk ! They have 
 nothino; but their own resources to look to." 
 
 " Merci, Monsieur ! you are too hard ! 
 Nothino: but their own resources ! and 
 what more should they want ? I can quite 
 account for your commiseration. Oh, you 
 men, you do look unhappy in wet weather ! 
 I have seen some of you cast upon your 
 resources — they are very limited. Smoke, 
 billiards, the newspaper — the paper, bil- 
 liards and more tobacco, and then you 
 paste your noses to the window, look at 
 the weather and moan piteously !" 
 
 "Well," laughed Jack, "I am afraid 
 that's a little like it with some of us during 
 a wet day in the country."
 
 The Thermopolmin. 107 
 
 " And yet one hears so mucli of the 
 pleasantness of English country houses — 
 La vie de chateau I have always pictured 
 to myself as the beau-ideal of charming 
 genial society." 
 
 " So it is, there is nothing jollier ; but 
 people confound English country-house 
 life, with the life of people who live in the 
 country. When you have a great big 
 house, thousands a year to keep it up 
 with, and thousands of acres to sport over, 
 you have no difficulty in filling the ' big 
 house ' with a pleasant party, that's Eng- 
 lish country-house hfe. But the life of 
 people who live in the country is a dif- 
 ferent thiua-. Moderate-sized houses, 
 widely scattered, and hard work to col- 
 lect an occasional dinner-party. I don't 
 know which phase you are about to en- 
 counter." 
 
 " Oh, dear, the latter — horrible ! what 
 a dreadful picture ! how could you be so 
 cruel? Well, I am not going to try it 
 for very long. I have my painting things, 
 and I suppose there is a piano. But 
 surely this must be Hitchin ?" 
 
 The train slackened itsspeedas she spoke.
 
 108 Three Years. 
 
 " Yes," replied Jack. " Have you got 
 all your things ? I will get out and see 
 about your baggage." 
 
 " Thanks, very much, but I need not 
 trouble you any more. I shall be met 
 here. Good-bye, Mr. Travers, and many 
 thanks for all the care you have taken of 
 
 me." 
 
 " Why, how do you know my name ?" 
 
 " Not very difficult as long as you 
 travel with that gun-case." 
 
 " Ah ! yes, of course. And by what 
 name am I to remember you ?" 
 
 " As the * Lady of King's Cross,' " she 
 replied, and with a light musical laugh 
 she bowed, and sprang forward to address 
 an old gentleman who was evidently in 
 quest of some one of the new arrivals. 
 
 Jack watched her slight graceful figure 
 as she went down the platform in search 
 of her luggage. 
 
 " Confound it!" he muttered. " What 
 a jolly girl she is. How I wish I knew 
 who she was." 
 
 A sharp " any more going on " broke his 
 meditations, and Jack jumped back into 
 his carriage. Ho thrust his head out of
 
 The Thermopol'ium. 109 
 
 the window as the train moved off, and 
 was rewarded by a bright smile and httle 
 nod from his late companion, who was 
 still standing on the platform. 
 
 Lio;htino^ a ciofar, Jack was soon lost in 
 reverie. Punch fell nesj'lected from his 
 knee, and a periodical also bought to re- 
 lieve the tedium of his journey rolled un- 
 heeded to the bottom of the carriage. 
 The subject of his musings was of course 
 his late fellow-traveller. Who could she 
 be ? She was a lady evidently, if he knew 
 anything about it, and like most men of 
 his age. Jack thought he knew a good 
 deal. As we grow older w^e mistrust 
 our judgment more. We have been so 
 often deceived by appearances, that we 
 judge hardly on such occasions. Her 
 frank girlish confidence would by many 
 men have been wrongly interpreted. She 
 would have been set down as a forward 
 young woman, and our friend Jack as very 
 weak for not having ascertained her name 
 and all about her. Many of his acquaint- 
 ances would have said to him : " My dear 
 fellow, she evidently meant you should, 
 and is doubtless lauofhins; now at what an
 
 110 Three Years. 
 
 overgrown school-boy slie travelled with, 
 who hadn't the savoir vivre to follow up 
 the opening she had given him. You can't 
 expect a woman to meet you more than 
 half way, if you won't come the other she 
 can't help it." 
 
 And yet Jack felt instinctively she had 
 not meant it. He thouo-ht of the brio-ht 
 fair innocent face, the arch, yet candid 
 brown eyes, the merry laugh, and vowed 
 she was ' no pirate of the seas,' but like 
 her own motto, ' honest and true.' She 
 was very young and pretty to be travelHng 
 alone. " I wish I knew her name," he 
 muttered, for the twentieth time. " Pshaw ! 
 what a fool I was not to inquire of one of 
 the porters who the old gentleman was 
 that came to meet her. It's odds they'd 
 have known." Then the musical voice rang 
 again in his ears, and lie felt bitter com- 
 punctions that he'd not thrashed that fat 
 greasy cockney at King's Cross. " Well, 
 it's no use, I suppose I shan't see her 
 again. Horribly behind time they are. 
 Will they ever get to Moretown ?" Then 
 he tried Punch, voted it gone to the bad, 
 and getting duller every week. Turned
 
 The Th.ermopoVium. Ill 
 
 up bis nose at one of Leecli's happiest 
 efforts, and went through all the vagaries 
 men do when dissatisfied. TVe all know the 
 feeling. When the dinner is bad, the wine 
 poison. Can't think where they manufac- 
 ture such a disgraceful equivalent for 
 tobacco ! Call this shooting, or so-and- 
 so amusing? that book clever, or such a 
 girl nice? Whatever it is, it's all the 
 same. The causes vary, but liver and ill- 
 temper have it pretty much between them. 
 
 " Moretown ! Moretown !" shrieked the 
 porters, or to use their vernacular, 
 ' Moret'n.' Travers got out, found the 
 wagfo'onette waiting:, and himself, in the 
 course of twenty minutes or so, duly de- 
 posited at Dunnington. 
 
 " Delighted to see you, Jack," said 
 Charlie Repton, as he shook him warmly 
 by the hand. " ' Though years have rolled 
 by us since last time we met,' I still recol- 
 lect your weakness for a glass of sherry 
 before dinner. There's some on the side 
 table. The train's late, and you'll have to 
 display all your military alertness in dress- 
 ing. We've got Forbes and Lyttlereck 
 coming; to-morrow, the house full, and all
 
 112 Three Years. 
 
 to do honour to your humble servant's 
 success in the steeple-chase the next 
 day." 
 
 " Well, I suppose you mean winning. 
 Your people all well ?" 
 
 " Quite, thanks ; and the mare too, 
 though you didn't ask after her. Rather a 
 leading character just now. But run 
 away and dress, the governor's a mean 
 opinion of people who are late for dinner," 
 and Charlie led the way upstairs.
 
 CHAPTER VT. 
 
 TOM LYTTLEKECK's BOOMS. 
 
 " I SAY, Tom, who is that Cis Laocrton 
 you spoke of down at Dunnington ?" in- 
 quired Frank Forbes. " The man who sold 
 Charhe the mare, which we are just going 
 down to see win the Hunt Steeple-chase." 
 
 The scene of the above question was 
 Tom Ljttlereck's rooms in the Temple, 
 and a curious melange the said rooms were. 
 Generally, to the close observer, a man's 
 character is very much reflected in the den 
 he inhabits. I use the word den advisedly, 
 because 1 am alluding to that one sanctuin 
 which even after marriage a man reserves 
 unto himself, where the disorder we so 
 much love is still revelled in ; where under 
 no pretence of "putting to rights" are 
 malignant hand-maids allowed to banish 
 our pet authors to inaccessible shelves, 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 Three Years. 
 
 break our favourite and trusty meer- 
 schaums ; burn the rubbish collected on 
 the writing-table, including that valuable 
 treatise on " Social Amenities," which we 
 have been intending to finish any time the 
 last two years. Hide that old and much 
 loved smoking-jacket at the bottom of 
 our drawers, and finally consummate her 
 iniquities b}^ placing our slippers in what 
 she deems their proper place, being na- 
 turally the very last place in which we 
 should dream of looking for them. 
 
 Though an observer might have picked 
 up a good deal of Tom's habits and pur- 
 suits, still the extreme versatility apparent 
 therein would have puzzled him. Books 
 always form a leading feature in the study 
 of a room ; but here the reader was to all 
 appearances so extremely erratic, that it 
 was difiicult to draw a conclusion. The 
 ' Racing Calendar' lay side by side with 
 Lyell's * Antiquity of Man,' Wycherley 
 and Congreve, ' The Plurality of Worlds,' 
 ' The Sporting Magazine, ' In Memoriam,' 
 ' Montaigne,' ' Coelebs on Whist,' a vo- 
 lume or two of Lacy's Acting Drama and 
 Junius' Letters formed a chaos from which
 
 Tom LyttlerecJvs Booms. 115 
 
 it was difficult to deduce anything. A 
 print of the winner of the Derby huns^ 
 over the mantel piece. Another of Frith' s 
 picture of the Seaside. A couple of clever 
 pen and ink sketches entitled respectively, 
 " My bark is on the sea," and " Gaily goes 
 the ship when the wind blows fair," re- 
 presents the start and the termination of 
 a bad passage across the Channel, with 
 " Harvest in the Highlands," constituted 
 the picture gallery. A pipe-rack over 
 the mantel-piece containing some dozen 
 specimens of the briar, the cutty, and 
 the meerschaum, announced in pretty posi- 
 tive terms that the proprietor smoked. The 
 furniture was, as he described it himself, 
 of the composite or amalgamated period, 
 and while the owner luxuriated in a rock- 
 ing-chair, Frank Forbes was stretched on 
 a huge old-fashioned sofa, made comfort- 
 able through the medium of various scien- 
 tifically disposed cushions and a bear's 
 skin. Some dozen oyster shells and their 
 concomitants marked the fact that they 
 had lunched, and they were soothing their 
 nerves with tobacco when Forbes pro- 
 pounded the above question. 
 
 I 2
 
 1J6 Three Years. 
 
 '' Cis Langton !" replied Tom. " Well, 
 yes, he's a mystery, from the fact that he 
 apparently breaks continually, and as con- 
 stantly recovers. We see lots of fellows 
 live fast, keep big studs, &c., and come 
 to grief; they disappear and the world 
 knows them no more. Here and there a 
 relative dies and leaves one of these out- 
 casts a fortune, he reappears and once 
 more takes his place ; but then we know 
 how he did it, his uncle the Indian judge, 
 or the rich old aunt at Cheltenham set 
 him on his legs again ; but though I have 
 seen Cis Langton ' go' four or five 
 times, nobody has ever been able to ex- 
 plain how he recovered. He disappears, 
 but in two years or so there he is again 
 with horses, money, and nobody knows 
 how." 
 
 " What is your own theory on the sub- 
 ject ?" inquired Frank. 
 
 " God knows, they say he's a ^olacer in 
 ]\Iexico, a gold mine in California, buried 
 treasure at Anticosta, that he speculates 
 in New York. Nobody but himself, I be- 
 lieve, knows his resources, though I have 
 a mild guess. {Should you like to know
 
 Tom LyttlereclvS Rooms. 117 
 
 as mucli as I know of Cis Langton's his- 
 tory ?" 
 
 " Yerj mucli, I only just know him by 
 sight." 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you as much as I know 
 about him. Cis Lano-ton was a man who 
 started in life with some seven or eight 
 thousand pounds. His parents died while 
 he was quite young, and his guardians in 
 due course sent him to Oxford. There he 
 went throusch the reo-ular round of an Ox- 
 ford life, but was tolerably steady all the 
 same ; if he didn't read very hard, neither 
 were his irregularities very flagrant. In 
 the course of one vacation, Cis accom- 
 panied two or three other fellows on a 
 reading visit to a clergyman at Tenby. 
 The parson had a daughter, a pale, fair, 
 blue-eyed girl, who was his only child. 
 She was just eighteen when Cis first met 
 her, rather pretty, though nothing more 
 to most eyes ; but her soft rather helpless 
 manner and delicate fragile look van- 
 quished Cis at once. It's an immutable 
 law of nature, the strong men are always 
 attracted by the most fragile and fairy-like 
 of the sex, the weak and vacillating fall
 
 118 lliree Years. 
 
 easy captives to the strong minded 
 women — tlie ' Mrs. MacStingers' marry 
 them off hand. Short men marry tall 
 women and vice versa. No wonder, Cis, 
 the coxswain of his colleoe eio-ht and an 
 acknowledged 'hard man' with the drag, 
 .should feel pity for the delicate girl. 
 ' Pity's mighty akin to love,' they say, and 
 in three weeks Cis was about as bad ' a 
 case' as could be well found. He was 
 hopelessly ' spooney' on Lucy Rawson. 
 
 " Her mother was dead, she believed, but 
 this was a subject on which she never could 
 induce her father to touch. She said she 
 could just recollect her mother, though 
 she had no recollection of her death, and 
 her father always refused to answer her 
 questions on this point, and got very 
 angry if she alluded to the subject, ' The 
 only thing I think he ever was angry with 
 me about,' said Lucy, talking it over one ^ 
 day with her lover. 
 
 " By the time the vacation Avas over, it 
 was all over with Cis too ; though he had as 
 yet not spoken to the Rev. James Rawson, 
 he went back to Oxford an encfao'cd man. 
 It steadied him, and he took a degree, a
 
 Tom LyttlerecFs Booms. 119 
 
 circumstance wliicli up to tliis liad been 
 rather dubious. After some humming and 
 hawing the father gave bis consent, and 
 it was settled they should be married as 
 soon as Cis saw his way in the world a 
 little. He started for the Bar, and worked 
 hard. An occasional run down to Tenby 
 lightened his labours, and the first year 
 closed on rosy prospects for Cis Langton. 
 In tbe second his fiancee's letters disturbed 
 him terribly ; they still teemed with affec- 
 tion, but she didn't think she was suited 
 to him. She should never cease to love 
 bim, but be had better forget her. Cis 
 was in a desperate state of mind, he posted 
 off to Tenby. Lucy seemed in awfully 
 low spirits, while he was with her her 
 spirits seemed to revive, and her every 
 glance and tone showed affection for him, 
 he thouo-bt. Still when he talked of their 
 marrying as soon as he was called to the 
 Bar, she always answered with tears ; that 
 no one could tell what might happen by 
 then, that after all he had better forget 
 her. What was the matter? She was 
 subject to low spirits. Her father said it 
 was all nothing. She was only a nervous,
 
 120 Three Years. 
 
 ■whimsical girl, and slie would get over it 
 all when she had a house to look after. 
 
 " Cis returned to town, more puzzled and 
 infatuated than ever; her letters imme- 
 diately got colder and more despondent 
 than before. It was the same story, never 
 cease to love him, &c., but he'd better 
 forget her. Cis went down" there again, 
 had a tremendous scene. It was at last 
 settled they were to be married when he 
 was ' called,' and ho was not to see her 
 asfain till then : but she made him swear 
 to see her once more under any circum- 
 stances, whatever he might hear about her. 
 It seemed an odd whim, but Cis didn't 
 think much about it at the time. Her 
 letters became fewer and shorter than 
 before. Still poor Cis was so infatuated 
 about her that he worked wearily on, 
 thinking at all events everything would be 
 cleared up at the end of the year when he 
 would be entitled to write himself ' barris- 
 ter at law.' Latterly, he ceased to hear 
 from her at all, and no sooner was the 
 final ceremony over than he started for 
 Tenby. Ho little knew, poor fellow, what 
 awaited him there.
 
 Tom Lijttlereclv s Rooms. 121 
 
 " On arrmng at Mr. Rawson's, that gen- 
 tleman received him most frigidly, and 
 expressed his astonishment at seeing him. 
 Cis was bewildered. 
 
 " ' After what has happened,' continued 
 ivlr- Rawsou, ' I should have thought 
 delicacy might have induced you to refrain 
 from a personal interview, until you had at 
 least heard from me.' 
 
 " ' But good Heavens !' said poor Cis, 
 ' what has happened?' 
 
 "'I presume, sir, you read the papers. 
 I think the errors and misfortunes of my 
 former life have been commented on in 
 them sufficiently. You can hardly think 
 it will gratify me to talk over the miserable 
 story. I shall leave this place as soon as 
 I possibly can, and probably England.' 
 
 " ' Good God, sir ! I am in utter io;nor- 
 ance to what you allude, I have been hard 
 worked the whole of this week and havn't 
 looked at a paper. Where is Lucy P' 
 
 " At the mention of his daughter's name 
 Mr. Rawson's face softened. 
 
 " ' Poor girl, poor girl, she is very ill, I 
 sent her away. I beg pardon, but I of course 
 thougbt you knew everything, and there-
 
 122 Three Years. 
 
 fore that you and I had better not meet. 
 You loved my daugliter, Langton, I be- 
 lieve; my darling Lucy. Ah, I have paid 
 bitterly for the sin of my youth — good-bye, 
 God bless you ! I really cannot and will 
 not tell you the story of my miserable life. 
 Rawson versus Rawson in the papers will 
 explain everything — good-bye,' and wring- 
 inof Lans^ton's hand he left the room. 
 
 *' Rawson vers^is Rawson was a de lunatico 
 inquirendo case. It appeared that Mrs. Raw- 
 son was not dead ; but an inmate of an asy- 
 lum, and had been so for many years ; this 
 was a petition for * release and alimony' on 
 the grounds that she was no longer insane. 
 That she had been so originally there was 
 no doubt ; but the trial went to prove that 
 she was sane now, and had been for the last 
 three years or so. But the worst part of the 
 case for Rawson, was, that it came out that 
 he had never been married to her ; she had 
 always passed as his wife, but tlie marriage 
 ceremony had never been gone through. 
 
 " Such was a brief e})itome of wliat Cis 
 Langton found in tlio papers under tlie 
 head of ' Rawson versus Rawson ;' but in 
 spite of this expose his faitli to Lucy never
 
 Tom Lijttlereclvs Rooms. 123 
 
 wavered for an iastant, and tweDty-four 
 hours saw liira again at Rawson's door. 
 Mr. Eawson had gone to London for two 
 or three days by the first train that morn- 
 ing. No, the servants had no idea where 
 Miss Lncy was staying ; it was months 
 before Cis found out the whole truth. All 
 his letters to Rawson remaiued unanswered, 
 and that o-entleman himself returned to 
 Tenby only for a few hours, and then de- 
 parted, nobody knew where. 
 
 " Cis was untiring: in bis efforts to dis- 
 cover Lucy. He harped continuously upon 
 the oath he had sworu, viz., 'to see her 
 again under any circumstances,' and the 
 result of those inquiries vfas, that Cis found 
 himself one fine autumn day knocking at 
 the door of a pretty country house near 
 London. 
 
 " His cheek might well be pale and his 
 lip quiver, for the house was a private 
 lunatic as3dum, and he knew that she he 
 had souo;ht so lono: and loved so well was 
 an inmate. He was admitted, and after a 
 little delay was shown into a parlour where 
 he found Lucy, gazing dreamily out of the 
 window. Poor girl, she did not show the
 
 12-i Three Years. 
 
 slightest sign of recogDition, tlie blue eyes 
 stared fixedly down some awful vista known 
 only to the poor warped brain behind 
 them ; so She'd sit, the matron said, 
 for hours, occasionally weeping silentl}-, 
 but taking no notice of what went on 
 around her. She was very quiet and 
 tractable, but the doctor told Cis it was 
 as hopeless a case of melancholy madness 
 (generally I believe the worst kind) as he 
 had ever had. 
 
 " It seemed that poor Lucy had dis- 
 covered inadvertently after her engagement 
 to Langton, that her mother was alive and 
 in an asylum. The shock to the frad ner- 
 vous system was great. She feared to let 
 her father know of her discovery — the 
 oppression of this, to her awful secret, soon 
 induced the horrible idea that insanity was 
 hereditary, and that she would ere long 
 be bereft of her senses — hence her unac- 
 countable letters to Cis. Then came the 
 trial — the shock of that, the discovery of 
 her illegitimacy, her anguish at the ideas 
 of losing her lover, her frail nervous tem- 
 perament cond)ined with the dread idea 
 of insanity not unnaturally^ produced it.
 
 Tuifi Lijttlerech's Rooms. 125 
 
 a 
 
 To cut a long story sliort, she gradually 
 wasted away, and about a year afterwards 
 died, her unconscious liand locked in Cis 
 Lancrton's, tlious^li slie never recovered 
 her reason. Cis from that hour was a 
 broken man — the only stake in life he cared 
 to win he had played for and lost. He 
 played, hunted, raced, perpetual excite- 
 ment seemed absolutely necessary to him, 
 and everything was better than his own 
 thoughts. At the end of less than two 
 years Cis was more than suspected of being 
 in difficulties, a heavy facer on ' The Two 
 Thousand,' followed bv a regular knock 
 down on ' The Chester Cup' finished him, 
 and for close on two years 1 never saw him ; 
 then he turned up again all right, went 
 again, and as I tell you has ' gone' and 
 recovered three or four times." 
 
 " Sad and curious story," remarked 
 Forbes, "but you haven't mentioned your 
 guess at what does duty for ' the gold mine,' 
 Mexican placer, or whatever it may be. 
 I confess to much curiosity on that point." 
 
 " Well, mine is rather a vague conjec- 
 ture after all ; but some three years ago I 
 and a friend were doing a pedestrian tour
 
 126 Three Years. 
 
 in North Wales. After a long tramp we 
 fouDd ourselves late one afternoon at the 
 country town of Harlech. Now, it's the 
 greatest possible mistake on these occa- 
 sions to go to a grand hotel, if you can 
 meet with the old country inn. That 
 venerable institution ij, I grieve to say, 
 getting scarcer every day, still when you 
 do meet it, don't miss it. I know of two 
 or three yet, one in Winchester, another 
 in Monmouthshire, where the house has no 
 particular shape ; in which the coffee-room 
 seems all sides and corners, and where the 
 doors, as a rule, don't seem meant for 
 shutting ; but still where beds are clean, 
 food and drink good, civility great, and 
 charsrcs moderate. Well, an inn some- 
 thing of this stamp we came across at 
 Harlech; after finishing our dinner, we 
 asked the waiter what there was to see 
 in the neighbourhood. He was a cheerful 
 and rather talkative waiter, and having 
 suggested one or two things near the town 
 f(jr the morrow, he exhorted us much to go 
 and hear Mr. Uai'nley Sliaw's Lecture on 
 ' Here and There' at the Town H;dl. We 
 (liil, and a very good entertainment it was.
 
 Tom Lyttlereck^ s Rooms. 127 
 
 Mr. Shaw was an easy fluent lecturer, dis- 
 coursed pleasantly of his travels ; drew 
 neat sketches and did neat impersonations 
 of people he had met ; had some good 
 anecdotes and sang two or three good 
 songs, so that on the whole we returned 
 well pleased to our inn. After smoking a 
 pipe on the steps, we went towards the 
 coffee-room for a glass of grog before 
 turniuo- in — 
 
 " ' Nobody there,' said our friend the 
 waiter; ' but Mr. Darnley Shaw.' 
 
 " If that wasn't Cis Langton, I'll lose a 
 ten pound note on it ! You would have 
 hardly known it was the same man that we 
 had heard lecture, he must have been 
 thoroughly made up. However, he didn't 
 recognise me in the least, I knew him but 
 slightly then ; and though I entered into 
 conversation with him, and tried all I 
 knew, he never in the slightest degree 
 admitted that he was other than Mr. 
 Darnley Shaw, even smiling pleasantly 
 when I told him how like he was to a 
 friend of mine called Lano-ton." 
 
 " And you think that's the way he re- 
 plenishes his exchequer ?" asked Forbes.
 
 128 Three Years. 
 
 "Of course!" laughed Tom. ''Travels 
 about the provinces with a piano, and 
 draws the natives for hundreds. Anyway, 
 he'd a good house at Harlech." 
 
 "Well, I hope the mare he sold Charlie 
 is as good as we all think she is. Sad 
 disappointment if she don't win at More- 
 town, won't it be ?" 
 
 " Yes, and by Jove our time's about 
 up — take us twenty minutes to get to the 
 station. Here, Jim, you vagabond ! fetch 
 a cab, look sharp !" and Tom rushed into 
 his bed-room to put the finishing touches 
 to his packing arrangements. 
 
 Tom and Frank Forbes found themselves 
 forming part of a rather numerous assem- 
 bly in the Dunnington drawing-room that 
 evening. The Chppington girls had come 
 over. Mrs. Inglemere was there, radiant 
 in smiles and toilette. As Jack Travers 
 beheld Charlie Repton's attentions, he 
 concluded that the smoking-room gossip 
 of the Thortnopolium was rather idle 
 scandal, or Charlie's dcnolion to Miss 
 Brabazon a thing of the past. That men 
 can be in love with two women at the same 
 time, was a contingency wdiicli Jack's
 
 Tom LyttlerecFs Booms. 129 
 
 single-hearted pliilosopliy did not ac- 
 knowledo^e. 
 
 They laughed over the Moretown ball. 
 Laura Clippington was full of Mrs. Simp- 
 son, the genteel grazing widow, for Tom's 
 edification. " She had made all sorts of 
 inquiries. It would be so nice. Pretty 
 clean white house. She'd been to see it ! 
 He would have the cows close under the 
 window (Laura's ideas of a grazing farm 
 were vague) so that he could look after 
 them at any moment ; in fact, whenever 
 the widow allowed him a moment to spare. 
 Widows were rather exigeante,^' here she 
 glanced slightly at Mrs. Inglemere and 
 Charlie ; " but she was sure Mr. Lyt tie- 
 reck would never give cause to complain 
 on that account." 
 
 Tom parried all this badinage as well as 
 he could. " What a thing it was to have 
 one so attentive to his interests on the 
 spot, he looked entirely to her !" 
 
 " And now, Miss Laura, having dis- 
 cussed my particular affairs, may I ask 
 what you have been doing with yourself 
 lately ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," she replied. " I looked on 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 Three Years. 
 
 at some cbarades at the Dullingtons ; 
 oh, so dreary. Assisted at a dance at the 
 Breretons ; piano, carpet, and country 
 curates. Went to see the hounds meet, in 
 a carriage, at Cracklow gorse — the coldest 
 day of the season, and of course they 
 didn't find. Have pretended to do a 
 deal of worsted work for Mrs. Brereton's 
 bazaar. I haven't done a thing really, and 
 shall have to buy some things for it. Got 
 into diso-race for showinof an indifference 
 on the subject of Sunday schools, and 
 electrified them on the organ at Miningsby 
 one Sunday. That's about the sum of my 
 iniquities since we last met." 
 
 " Laura, come here, we want you," 
 said Agnes Repton, who was at the piano. 
 " Come and sing something. Here's Mr. 
 Forbes says he can't, and Mr. Travers 
 follows suit." 
 
 " Oh, don't let Jack begin yet," chimed 
 ill Charlie. " He's like a musical-box ; 
 when he's once set going he never stops 
 till he's sung all his tunes through. I 
 forget just now how many it is lie 
 knotvs." 
 
 " You needn't be frightened, Miss Eep-
 
 Turn LyttlerecJvS Rooms. 131 
 
 ton," replied Jack, laugMngly. '' I wish 
 I could do anything for you in that way. 
 I should be only too happy, I'm sure. 
 Charlie is not quite so veracious as he 
 mio'ht be." 
 
 "Mrs. Inglemere, do you hear my 
 character being torn to shreds. Won't 
 you say something for me ?" 
 
 " Don't ask me," murmured the widow 
 softly. " I think you quite able to take 
 care of yourself." 
 
 The widow eschewed general conversa- 
 tion on principle. In a tete-a-tete, her 
 magnificent eyes stood her in great ser- 
 vice. She left her companion to do the 
 talking; smiled, looked charmed or in- 
 dignant as the occasion required. She had 
 not the gift of talking, and she knew it. 
 Tete-a-tete with a looking-glass or a talka- 
 tive admirer, and she was thoroughly at 
 home. She was great in the right smile, 
 the right interjection, in the right toss or 
 turn of the head. Her pose was perfect. 
 She knew how to use her grand black 
 eyes, and could express a good deal with 
 her eyebrows. There she stopped, a)ii(l 
 intellectually was as stupid as a provin- 
 
 K 2
 
 132 Three Years. 
 
 cial leading article. Here Laura burst 
 out with La donna e mohile, and the men 
 clustered round the piano. She'd a fine 
 contralto voice, had been well taught and 
 sang con amove. 
 
 " Yes," said Minnie Clippington, in ans- 
 wer to an observation of Travers's. " We 
 shall have a great day's fun to-morrow. 
 All the neighbourhood will be there. I 
 do hope Charlie will win. It will be a 
 sad blow to us Dunnington people, if we 
 don't come home triumphant." 
 
 " Do you wear his colours ?" and as he 
 spoke he wondered what his fiiir unknown 
 would have called ' hers'. She said he 
 had worn them. 
 
 " Oh, yes, blue and white, we all wear 
 them to-morrow." 
 
 " With so many fair supporters ho must 
 win." 
 
 " I don't know that," laughed Minnie. 
 " I have my bill at Fiver's to convince me 
 that ladies don't always win. We always 
 ' go for the gloves ;' but alas the gloves 
 often go from us." 
 
 " Treason, rank treason, in the camp," 
 cried Agnes Repton. " Charlie, here's a
 
 Tom Lijttlereclv s Rooms. 133 
 
 faint-hearted supporter, wlio would, I 
 verily believe, back the what d'ye call it, 
 but not you." 
 
 " The field against the favourite," said 
 Jack. " Miss Clippington, you will be 
 ruined. We are all bound to support our 
 champion." 
 
 " No, I don't mean that ; but I have 
 misgivings." 
 
 "Misgivings!" said Charlie. "She'll 
 turn atheist next. She don't beheve in 
 ' Polly Perkins.' Ring the bell for some 
 wine and water and ' the Ghost.' Thanks, 
 Tom." 
 
 " Ah, we are to have the ghost pro- 
 perly done this time. We must not 
 have it all terminate in an owl," said 
 Laura. 
 
 "Why don't you aspirate it?" retorted 
 Charlie. " I'm sure it was an owl with an 
 ' H' the first night." 
 
 " Don't be rude, sir. What business 
 have you to ask people to stay in such di- 
 lapidated mansions 
 
 " * Whose hollow turrets woo the whistling breeze ?' 
 
 "You ought to be ashamed of yourself;
 
 134 Three Years. 
 
 owls about the staircase indeed ; why don't 
 you send for the glaziers ?" 
 
 "Ah! here come the stimulants," quoth 
 Charlie. " Mrs. Inglemere, let me get 
 you something," and Charlie dashed off 
 to the sideboard ; the widow was looking 
 charming, but their conversation had lan- 
 guished. 
 
 " Of course you go to Ryalston the 
 week after next for the theatricals, Mr. 
 Travers," said Agnes Repton. 
 
 " Oh dear, yes, I'm quite what's termed 
 a stock actor in Lechmere's troop. Charlie 
 has played there too before, I know." 
 
 " Yes, and the Miss Clippingtons are to 
 make their debut this year. It's always a 
 very pleasant week." 
 
 Candlesticks were now in request, and 
 good-nights exchanged. 
 
 " Good-night, Charhe," cried Laura, 
 " both to you and Polly Perkins ; recollect 
 if you don't win I'm a ruined young 
 woman. Don't let him smoke, Mr. Lyttle- 
 reck, or he'll have no nerves to-morrow, 
 and stop to look at the brook as if he'd 
 got hydrophobia." 
 
 " Avaunt, thou prophetess of ill omen,"
 
 Tom LyttlerecMs Booms.. 135 
 
 replied Charlie, as Laura ran laughing up- 
 stairs. " May his Lordship of Derrington 
 haunt thy slumbers. Well, you fellows 
 know your way to the smoking-room. I 
 am going to eschew tobacco to-night for 
 Polly Perkins' sake." 
 
 " You'll pull through to-morrow, I sup- 
 pose," said Travers. 
 
 " Should do. The mare's very fit, lias 
 the speed of everything, I think, and she's 
 a good fencer." 
 
 " Well, good-nio'ht. I'm off for a weed. 
 Luck to-morrow."
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 THE UUJsT STEEPLE-CHASE. 
 
 A DULL grey morning. The grand old 
 Minster loomed tlirough the mist, and 
 looked down upon the Moretown race- 
 course like some old world Titan contem- 
 plating the mushroom sports of the nine- 
 teenth century. On that very sward it 
 may have looked over tournaments like 
 the lists at Ashby, and seen the steel-clad 
 Norman knfghts go down, as perhaps may 
 be the fate of some of the gaily silk-attired 
 horsemen of to-day. That hill on which 
 it stands may have seen many a chariot 
 I'aco witli noble Romans laying the odds 
 in sesterces, for Moretown is a city of 
 olden times, and not a little proud of her 
 " Roman remains." l^ut though More- 
 town has done witli tlio Romans, she is 
 still so far classical that once a year she
 
 The Hunt Steeple- Chase. 137 
 
 indulges in races thereby assembling ' the 
 Greeks' of the betting ring, who vocife- 
 rate their fierce war cries of " the field for 
 fifty." "Nobody names the winner for 
 ten." 
 
 There are few prettier race-courses than 
 Moretown. The stand, placed on a shghtly 
 risino; o-round, looks over the undulating 
 grass oval tliat constitutes the flat race- 
 course. Where the red flags are placed 
 marks whence you diverge into the steeple- 
 chase course. A nice grass country in- 
 ter spersed with fair hunting fences, and 
 only one field of plough in the whole. 
 There is one bad point in it, that is the 
 sharp right angle at which you turn back 
 again into the course to finish, after the 
 preceding little cross country excursion. 
 Still Moretown is a popular cross country 
 Meeting, the Open Chase generally fills 
 well, and the grim old Miuster frowns 
 yearly upon a large and incongruous 
 gathering. 
 
 I like these north country meetings, so 
 different from the " holiday outings" of 
 the south. These sturdy agriculturists, 
 these blunt-spoken cattle jobbers, knowing
 
 138 Three Years. 
 
 cornfactors, cunniDg dealers in seeds and 
 cake, auctioneers, tradespeople, &c., they 
 all come for, and enter into the sport. 
 They know all about the horses, they 
 know Avliat they have done, and make 
 shrewd guesses at what they ought to do. 
 They don't forget such a horse is liable to 
 a five pound penalty for that Warwick 
 performance, and then they know what 
 five lb. means. They criticise the riders, 
 have seen most of them go, and are pretty 
 good judges of what they are worth on the 
 back of a horse. 
 
 "No more hands than a barge, man," 
 " Will think he's winning half a mile from 
 home." Such are the observations you 
 hear on all sides as " the gentlemen" take 
 their preliminary. " Dal it all, but he can 
 go, d'ye mind how he had the brook that 
 day from Cracklow Gorse," and the north- 
 countryman hustles his way into the ring 
 and backs his oj)inion for a sovereign or 
 two. Come home with them in the train, 
 they talk it all over. Tell how such a 
 race was won out of the fire ; how so and 
 so came too soon, or how " Darn my but- 
 tons, 1 kuowcd it all along, and there I
 
 Tlie Hunt Steeple-Chase. 139 
 
 was humbugging about witli some brancl}^ 
 and water and Bill Maddison, instead of 
 backino' it." 
 
 In an Epsom train, if they know what's 
 won the Derby it's as much as they do. 
 The Cup Day at Ascot the same. They 
 go for false noses, knock-em-downs, Aunt 
 Sally, a spree, roulette or what you will. 
 The northern men go to race. However, 
 the present is no race meeting, and though 
 during the vacation of the regular racing 
 season, some of the north country specu- 
 lators will run down to see the fun, the 
 Hunt Steeple-Chase is but a local gather- 
 ing. 
 
 Great was the despondency that existed 
 round the breakfast table at Dunnington. 
 Laura Clippington suggested that Charlie 
 should change his colours to something 
 startling, as the best of race-glasses could 
 never follow white and sky blue through 
 that mist. Mrs. Inglemere thought it dan- 
 gerous ; that the races should be put off, 
 and inwardly chafed that her becoming 
 toilette must be shawled heavily. Tom 
 observed " We shall only see it run fi^om 
 the straight, Cliarhe." Jack Travers came
 
 140 Three Years. 
 
 to the conclusion tliat it would be deuced 
 cold, and went to make some private ar- 
 rangements in which a cigar case and 
 pocket flask were prominently concerned. 
 Charlie Reptou havmg intimated to the 
 company that it would be " greasy going," 
 betook himself to a conference with the 
 stud groom, to which Tom Lyttlereck was 
 eventually summoned; while Minnie Chp- 
 pington shared her misgivings with Forbes, 
 which judging from their countenances 
 were brighter than the hopes of the others. 
 Through the grey mist, now begin- 
 ning to lift, whirled the Dunnington car- 
 riages, gay with the sky blue and white 
 favours, looking^ hke a cross between 
 a wedding party and a University boat 
 race. The ladies were duly estabhshed 
 in the stand, and the men had mostly 
 descended to the betting lawn, now well 
 filled with country gentlemen, yeomen 
 farmers, sporting wool-factors, corn- 
 dealers, &c., smoking, cracking their 
 jokes, talking gravely over the forthcom- 
 ing races (for tlie Iluut was to be followed 
 ])y the Farmers' Steeple-chase), latest 
 prices at Mark Lane, &c.
 
 The Hunt Steeple- Chase. 141 
 
 Charlie and Jack Travers loimo-ed 
 through the crowd, and many were the 
 greetings lavished on Charlie, who was 
 both well known and popular. " You'll 
 be about wdnniug to-day, Mr. E-epton." 
 " Quite well, sir, hope the mare's the 
 same ?" " Must trust you with a pound 
 or two to-day, Mr. Repton, haven't 
 forgot how you went that day from 
 Cracklow Gorse." " Mare fit for the job, 
 sir ?" &c. Charlie was nodding^ and 
 smiling^ in answer to these and similar 
 manifestations of good will, when Travers 
 suddenly exclaimed. 
 
 *' Halloa, Delpre, you here ?" 
 
 " How are you, Travers ? Yes, I came 
 down to see about a horse in this part of 
 the country, heard there was a bit of 
 ' sporting' going on, so waited a day for it." 
 
 " Charlie, let me introduce you to a 
 brother officer of mine, Delpre, Mr. Rep- 
 ton." The gentlemen bowed. 
 
 "You ride your own horse, I suppose," 
 said Delpre, " the people round here seem 
 very sweet on your chance — I should think 
 they would make your mare the favourite." 
 
 " I don't know ; round here you see is
 
 142 Three Years. 
 
 our own hunt, and the men of that hunt 
 fancy either my mare or The Slasher ; but 
 this race is open to four packs, and we 
 don't quite know what they've brought 
 from the north of the county. Lord Farn- 
 boro's men are always dangerous here." 
 
 "Well, you will be soon enlightened 
 now," said Jack, " for there goes the 
 saddliug^ bell." 
 
 As Charlie disappeared to his toilette, 
 Delpre said, 
 
 " You are pretty certain about this, I 
 suppose. You're not afraid of The Slasher, 
 are you ? his party talk pretty big. Can 
 Repton ride ?" 
 
 "One of the best things out," cried the 
 ever sanguine Jack, " Charlie's a very fair 
 performer, and I intend to stand it for a 
 pony. We've got The Slasher's length 
 and know we can beat him." 
 
 Delpre turned into ' the ring.' He had 
 already seen Polly Perkins, and been much 
 struck with her; ' quality all over' was his 
 verdict. His circumstances, as we already 
 know, were getting desperate — here was a 
 chance to recover ; wliat should he do? 
 " She's better class than any of the others,"
 
 The Hunt Steeple-Chase. 143 
 
 lie muttered; " she should win; a little 
 deeper in the hole makes no odds. If 
 they're quite certain they can beat The 
 Slasher, it must be a good thing ; I'll 
 back it. What about Polly Perkins ?" he 
 inquired of a stout gentleman who was 
 loudly vociferating " four to one, bar one." 
 
 " Five to two, sir." 
 
 " Pshaw !" he exclaimed, and plunged 
 deeper into the seething shouting mass. 
 
 Beercroft, the wool factor, and his 
 friends now came in and backed The 
 Slasher in earnest. Polly Perkins was 
 speedily deposed from her pride of 
 place, three, four, and at last fives went 
 begging. The Slasher was first favour- 
 ite, and a north country horse, called 
 The Novice, was also backed for a con- 
 siderable sum. Delpre watched the market 
 like a hawk ; at last he considered the 
 time had come, and closed the noisy voci- 
 ferations of one book-maker with a quiet, 
 
 " Put me down five fifties, Polly Perkins." 
 
 In two minutes he had backed the mare 
 to win him close on a thousand pounds, 
 and emerofins* from the crowd made his 
 way to the door of the weighing-room.
 
 144 Three Years. 
 
 Charlie Repton and Travers coming out, 
 passed liim in the door-way, and he was 
 about to turn with them, when a shrill 
 slightly stuttering voice attracted his at- 
 tion, and caused him to go in. 
 
 A rosy-cheeked, fair-haired, blue-eyed 
 little man was seated in the scales, ap- 
 parently in a state of great nervous agita- 
 tion about his weio'hts. 
 
 " Oh dear me, now I'm too light ; how 
 stupid you are, Jones, you know we can't 
 afford to throw away a lb., and that other 
 weight makes me too heavy. Try that 
 little one — ah, that '11 do ; dear me, what a 
 fever I'm in, phew — I'm getting nervous 
 before I start, run and get me a glass of 
 sherry, Jones." 
 
 One or two sporting lookers on grinned 
 considerably as the little man leisurely 
 picked up his saddle, got out of the scales 
 and swallowed the sherry he had called 
 for. Delpre followed him out to see him 
 get up. " Where," he muttered to him- 
 self, " did I see that fellow before — and 
 who the devil is he ?" 
 
 The little man led the way towards 
 where his horse was walking up and
 
 The Hunt Steeple-Gliase. 145 
 
 down — put tlie saddle on his back, and 
 stood sucking bis whip as the groom 
 tightened his girths and passed the sur- 
 cinoie across. 
 
 " What horrible weather !" he exclaimed, 
 " to ask a man to ride in ; I shall get my 
 death of cold, or be laid up with rheuma- 
 tism for the remainder of the winter. I 
 think you said, Martin," here he appealed 
 to one of the sporting looking men who 
 had followed him from the weighing house, 
 " he was easy to ride ; I'm sure if he pulls, 
 he'll have to go where he likes, I can only 
 jnst feel my fingers now," and here he gave 
 a slight cough and glanced at Delpre. 
 
 "WJiat's that?" inquired the latter of 
 a bystander, and he indicated the horse. 
 
 " This, sir," answered the little man 
 in the most plaintive tones, he was got 
 up in ' all black,' and looked in manner 
 and costume as if dressed for his own 
 funeral " is Mr. Martin's brown beast, ' The 
 Novice.' I'm the other one ; novice I 
 mean, not beast. Nice sort of animal and 
 nice sort of day to begin one's career as 
 a steeple-chase rider, isn't it. So kind 
 of Mr. Martin wasn't it, to bring me down 
 
 VOJ,. I. L
 
 14" 6 TJiree Years. 
 
 to ride that beast of a broiiGfham horse 
 through a pea-soup fog. Here, get me 
 another glass of sherry, do, my teeth 
 are rattling." 
 
 Neither the horse nor the day were so 
 bad as the dj^speptic little man made out. 
 The horse, a great slapping big brown, 
 showed very little breeding, and looked 
 as his petulant jockey described him, more 
 the cut of a brougham horse than a steeple- 
 chaser. He had, however, a lean varmint 
 looking head, and as Delpre eyed it, he 
 thought he might be better bred than he 
 looked. He didn't know quite what to 
 make of it ; he knew The Novice had been 
 backed for a good bit of money, and 
 though the rider didn't look quite like 
 business, the horse's owner and his friends 
 seemed extremely amused at his * jere- 
 miads' on the weather, himself, &c. Mr. 
 Johnson was the name ' up' to ride The 
 No\'ice, and that told nothing. 
 
 " Now, Martin, where's the fire-escape 
 to get up by ?" said the small man. " Oh, 
 well, chuck away ; but you'll never do it," 
 he continued, as Mr. INFiirtiu, on the broad 
 grin, advanced to give him a leg up. " By
 
 The Hunt Steejole-Chase. 147 
 
 Jove, I'm here," he said, as he was thrown 
 into the saddle. " Mind, if it isn't my 
 neck, I'll have brandy and water as soon 
 as you can get it down my throat, tele- 
 graph to Fergusson to come and set 
 what's broke ; none of your country doc- 
 tors, mind, that's our agreement, and 
 you're to keep me till I'm all right again." 
 
 Putting his feet in the stirrups he 
 leisurely gathered up the reins, and as 
 he walked his horse out of the enclosure, 
 Delpre heard him say with a twinkle of his 
 eye, 
 
 " T didn't make my will. Now don't go 
 into any litigation about the personality 
 in case of the worst, it's hardly worth 
 while. Oh, dear, what weather, and what 
 a brute it is !" and giving his horse a touch 
 with the spur, he cantered down the course. 
 
 In vain did Delpre ask one or two of 
 those next him who rode " The Novice." 
 Mr. Johnson, a stranger, never saw him 
 before, was the only reply. 
 
 Now the horses come sweeping past 
 in their preliminaries. Close upon a dozen 
 of them altogether. A jady-looking brute 
 called The Rogue, leads ; then comes 
 
 L 2
 
 148 TJiree Years. 
 
 Polly Perkins, a IcDgtliy low dark chest- 
 nut mare, without a speck of white about 
 her, sweeping by with the long low easy 
 stride that looks like going all over. 
 Great is the enthusiasm in the stand 
 amongst the ladies as Charlie canters past. 
 Mrs. Inglemere pronounces Polly Perkins 
 to be a love of a mare, and vows inwardly 
 that if ever she's Mrs. Charles Repton, 
 she will confiscate that mare for her own 
 riding. 
 
 "A sweet goer, isn't she, Mr. Lyttle- 
 reck ?" said Laura. " Charlie ought to 
 win — don't you think so ?" 
 
 " He has a very good chance, which is as 
 much as one should ever venture to predict 
 of a steeple-chase," replied Tom. " Here 
 comes his most formidable antagonist, The 
 Slasher, on the far side in green. 
 What's this in black, last of all ? Where's 
 the card ?" 
 
 " Mr. Martin's brown horse, * The No- 
 vice,' " read Laura. 
 
 " An ugly brute ; but he moves well," 
 said Tom. " Now they are going down to 
 the post. Have my glasses, Miss Laura, 
 they're very good ones, and we'll look to
 
 The Hunt Steevle-Chase. 119 
 
 you for an account of tlie race," and as he 
 spoke, lie carefully adjusted a large pair of 
 glasses and handed them to the young 
 lady. 
 
 The admirers of Polly Perkins were 
 charmed with her when they saw her 
 canter. They were more enthusiastic than 
 ever, and more than one broad shouldered 
 farmer elbowed his way back into the ring 
 to put just another pound on " Polly," 
 and youDg Squire Repton. 
 
 " Best looking^ and best goer of the lot," 
 muttered Delpre. " Hah, that little beg- 
 gar in black knows how to sit a horse. 
 Not quite his first steeple-chase, I think. 
 Mr. Johnson ridden much?" he inquired 
 of his neighbour. 
 
 " Johnson be dommed," was the reply, 
 " that's Plausible Plum, the biggest gam- 
 moner out. He's fiddled more races out of 
 the fire than any man in the North, and if 
 he's anyway handy at the finish they may 
 look out, for he's as full of dodges as an 
 ould dog fox." 
 
 It may seem odd that a regular racing 
 man like Delpre should not have recog- 
 nised an apparently well known gentle-
 
 150 Three Years. 
 
 man rider; but Plum, tliougli a well- 
 known man in the North, never went 
 South, while Delpre never came North, 
 except perhaps for Doncaster and the 
 Leger, which meeting is confined entirely 
 to professionals; but now he came to 
 think of it he knew the name, and had 
 heard of him as one of the shiftiest riders on 
 the turf. It was difficult to be sure that you 
 had quite done with ' Plausible Plum,' and 
 Delpre recollected more than one good 
 story of Plum's patience and acuteness in 
 stealing races. One thing he had looked 
 at a good deal when he backed Repton's 
 mount was, that there were no men of 
 mark riding against him, and he didn't at 
 all like the discovery of such a formidable 
 adversary, and him disguised. It was too 
 late to tell Repton now, or he would 
 have liked to have cautioned him not to 
 l(!t the black jacket get too near him at 
 tlie finish. " It's done now," he thought, 
 " there's nothing left but to see it out." 
 
 The gay silk jackets cluster for a mo- 
 ment round the starter, the little red flag 
 drops and they're away. The Rogue 
 "umps off with the lead, and leads them
 
 The Hunt Steeple-Chase. 151 
 
 at a rattling pace, so mucli so that lie soon 
 lies a dozen lengths ahead, The Slasher 
 comes next, and as they cross the brook 
 at the end of the first mile, to the horror 
 of Mrs. Inglemere, the white and blue 
 sleeves lies last but one. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Lyttlereck, we're beat al- 
 ready!" exclaimed that lady in tones of 
 prettiest anguish. 
 
 " Nonsense," said Laura, " they've a 
 long way to go yet. All well over," she con- 
 tinued, " ah, the green, that's The Slasher, 
 isn't it, Mr. Lyttlereck? is going up, he 
 has taken the lead. There's somethino- 
 down in pink, all the others over." 
 
 No change occurred for the next mile. 
 The Slasher went on with a strong lead. 
 The Rogue second. Polly Perkins and 
 The Novice lying well off. Gradually 
 the pace began to tell. Great was the 
 tailing ere they disappeared behind the 
 clump of trees on the far side of the 
 course. 
 
 " Now, Miss Laura," said Lyttlereck, 
 " direct your glasses on the near corner of 
 that clump of firs, and tell us what you 
 see ?"
 
 152 Three Years. 
 
 " Nothing yet. Now I do ! yes, The 
 Slasher has rounded them." 
 
 " What next ?" inquired Tom. 
 
 " Something: in white: -but The Slasher 
 is a good bit ahead, and now come two 
 others. I can't distinguish the colours- 
 do look," and she handed the glasses to 
 Tom. 
 
 " All right, that's Charlie lying third, 
 the first of those two, and The Novice is 
 just behind him. Ah ! what's that ?" as 
 he spoke, Plum brought The Novice with 
 a tremendous rush at the fence just along- 
 side Repton. It unsteadied the mare as it 
 was meant to do, and she jumped flurriedly, 
 but came over safe. 
 
 " Can't hold this infernal brute !" Rep- 
 ton heard from the rider of The Novice, 
 as he pulled his horse back again, and 
 Charlie sailed on without suspicion. 
 
 The Plausible one, in fact, had coolly 
 to use his own expression ' reckoned up 
 the race ' in his head. Accordins: to his 
 calculation, he could catch and beat the 
 leading horses if he could only dispose of 
 Polly Perkins, who he felt pretty sure 
 had the heels of him ; he therefore at once
 
 The Runt Steejjle-Ghase. 153 
 
 decided she must be ' put down.' He was 
 uot at all disheartened at the failure of his 
 first attempt. He saw that rushing his 
 horse alousfside her at the last fence had 
 made her jump very wild, and he had 
 merely puUed back with a view to repeat- 
 ing the ruse at the next jump. Lying 
 about four lengths ofi", and feeling the 
 most perfect confidence in The Novice's 
 jumping powers, he waited till Charlie was 
 again steadying his horse for the leap, when 
 with a touch of the spurs, he rushed past 
 him at racing pace. His calculation proved 
 correct. Polly Perkins shook her head, 
 rushed too, in spite of all Charlie's efforts, 
 took off too soon, and blundered into the 
 next field. Luckily, she really was a grand 
 jumper, and did get over, though she came 
 on her knees and almost nose, the other 
 side. Charhe was all but unshipped, 
 he was on the mare's neck, but just ma- 
 naged to scramble back with the loss of 
 a stirrup as ' Polly ' recovered. He set 
 her going again ; but he had lost a deal 
 of ground, and the pace was getting 
 good. 
 
 He was quite wide awake now to the
 
 154 Three Yearn. 
 
 ' Plausible's ' mancEuvre ; but still trusted 
 to make up his ground througli tlie supe- 
 rior speed of his mare. 
 
 "I'll take deuced good care," muttered 
 Charlie, " he don't rush me again. If I 
 could only recover this stirrup. Soa ! 
 gently, old lady !" Steadily, Charlie 
 pulled the mare together over the next 
 field. Polly was rather restless as she 
 neared the fence, but thanks to the steady 
 pull got over safe, though in the ditch 
 thereof the white jacket, with his horse 
 dead beat, was quietly deposited. 
 
 *' There's only three in it," said Tom 
 Lyttlereck. " The Slasher's leading, 
 Novice about three lengths behind, and 
 Charlie near twenty; but he's coming up 
 hand over hand." 
 
 Only two more fences before they jump 
 into the race course, and then there's 
 nothing but the hurdles. Charlie gradu- 
 ally closes his gap, and as The Slasher 
 and The Novice go neck and neck at the 
 fence into the course, is only some half 
 dozen lengths behind. It's a sharp turn, 
 the leading horses come at it fast. Charlie 
 not quite so quick, and in consequence, he
 
 The Hunt Steeiole-Chase. 155 
 
 steals nearly a couple of lengths, the pace 
 at which they are going having made the 
 leaders run rather wide round the flagf. 
 And now they race up to the hurdles. 
 The Novice on the outside clears them 
 about half a length in front of The 
 Slasher, while Charlie, on the in, is only 
 about a length behind him. " Polly 
 Perkins wins ! The Novice wins !" roar 
 the crowd, as the pair came away together. 
 Just as they reach the stand-corner, The 
 Novice dies away. Charlie thinks it all 
 over, stops riding. Phim steadies The 
 Novice for a stride or two, then brings him 
 again with a most determined rush, and 
 before Charlie can fairly set his horse 
 going again, flogs, spurs, and lifts him in 
 a winner by a neck. 
 
 Another stride, and the mare's head is 
 once more fairly in front again; but as 
 Charlie pulls up, though not quite sure, he 
 feels a horrid conviction that he has been 
 just done. 
 
 Up go the numbers ! Novice 1 ; 
 Polly Perkins 2; Slasher 3. 
 
 Won a neck ; bad third. There's 
 not much in that pithy announcement !
 
 156 Three Years. 
 
 and yet it often both sends men travelling 
 and stops them. 
 
 *' Oh, dear !" exclauned Miss Laura. 
 " I'm ruined. Poor Charlie ! oh, dear, no. 
 I can't pay, and I can't go anywhere this 
 year. Mr. Lyttlereck, I think I shall 
 keep stalls at fancy Mrs all through the 
 summer, and be good. I'm sure racing's 
 wicked if you don't win !" 
 
 " An awful sell !" said Tom, and then 
 he diverged into the usual fallacies and 
 common places. Better luck next time, 
 &c. The rock of ' next time ' has wrecked 
 many a goodly argosy. 
 
 Poor Charlie in the meantime was re- 
 tiring to scale through a running fire of 
 commentary. Popularity is very fleeting. 
 The cheery salutations of half an liour ago 
 were now changed to " Dom it, Squire, 
 you went to sleep !" " Chucked three pun 
 clean into the mud!" "What the devil 
 made you gin in, mou ?" 
 
 Poor Charlie's fcelino;s were none of 
 tlie pleasantest. Being beat was nothing ; 
 but being beat when ho had the race in 
 hand. Losing the game from not scoring 
 the king, was hard. The culmination.
 
 The Hunt Steeple-Chase. 157 
 
 however, was being beat by that brute in 
 black who had tried to put him down. 
 Externallv, he was still unruffled. 
 
 " Sorry for your money, Jack. I'm 
 afraid I muffed it shockingly," was his 
 placid reply, as he retired to dress again. 
 
 Poor Jack had seen too many " good 
 things" fail, not to take one more like a 
 philosopher. He merely replied, 
 
 " Yes, he did you, Charhe ; just won it 
 out of the fire." 
 
 " Made a little too certain, Repton," 
 said Delpre, with a pleasant smile, as he 
 joined them. " Couldn't catch you in time, 
 or I meant to have told you not to let 
 Plausible Plum near you at the finish. 
 He's too dangerous to allow alongside." 
 
 From his easy speech, you would have 
 hardly credited the awful malediction he 
 had bestowed on Charlie as they finished. 
 "AYho?" said Charlie. "Why, you 
 don't mean to say that was Plausible 
 Plum ?" 
 
 " Yes, it was ; but I didn't know him 
 by sight, and only found it out too late to 
 tell you," and Delpre walked off to have 
 a look at the little man who had upset his
 
 158 Three Year.9. 
 
 venture. He found him cliaifing over 
 some champagne with Mr. Martin and two 
 or three friends. 
 
 " Oh, Martin, and you said he didn't 
 pulL Didn't you see him quite running 
 away witli me two or three times in the 
 race ? I felt quite ashamed on Mr. Rep- 
 ton's account — might have put his mare 
 out at her fences. Do you know, I almost 
 think it did once;" and here the little man 
 winked and grinned, till Delpre thought 
 how much he should like to strangle him. 
 
 " I thought — he, he, he !" said Mr. 
 Martin, " he was running away with you 
 at the winning post, and you'd never stop 
 him ;" which pleasantry again convulsed 
 the party. It's astonishing how little it 
 takes to make men laugh who've just won 
 their money. 
 
 Delpre looked him well over. He made 
 it a rule to take the picture of any one it 
 might ever be worth, his while to know 
 again, and seldom forgot a face. If he had 
 ever seen Plum before it must have been 
 casually. 
 
 "Yes," ho muttered; " you've done me 
 fairlv this lime. I don't think I shall
 
 The Hunt Steeple-Chase. 159 
 
 forget your face. If it ever is my turn to 
 hold the cards against you, I'll play 'em 
 out pretty religiously." 
 
 " Charlie, dear," said Laura, " I shall 
 make you pay for my mourning. I intend 
 to wear crape till the Hunt Steeple-chase 
 next year, and then if you don't win, or 
 at all events beat that man in black, I'll 
 never forgive you. Do you hear what I 
 say, sir?" and Laura's eyes sparkled. 
 
 " Oh ! I'm so sorry, Mr. Repton. But 
 why didn't you gallop away from them 
 sooner?" said Mrs. Inglemere. It was a 
 very bad shot of the widow's, but as I 
 said before, though her pose was perfect, 
 she was a little deficient in tact. Ah ! 
 young ladies, beware how you stroke the 
 bristles of a man's vanity the wrong way. 
 
 " That woman's becomiuof a bore," 
 thouo-ht Charlie. " Never mind the mourn- 
 ing, Laura. We must try and do better 
 next year. You must back Polly once 
 more. AU right, Tom, I'll go on the 
 box. Here's the carriage. I'm hungry 
 for a smoke."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CIS LANGTON. 
 
 The sun of an early spring morning 
 glanced palely and coldly into the first 
 floor drawing-room of a small house in 
 Fulham. It was furnished as such places 
 usually are, though there were various 
 addenda which gave signs of the cultiva- 
 ted tastes of the dwellers therein, beyond 
 the common run of such inmates. A piano 
 stood in one corner, a small easel in ano- 
 ther ; volumes of classic poetry and quaint 
 old English authors lay scattered about the 
 tables, and some carefully tended, though 
 rather sickly-looking plants decorated the 
 windows. At a writing-table, covered with 
 papers and books apparently of reference, 
 a man sat driving his pen steadily and 
 swiftly over the foolscap sheets which he
 
 Cis Langton. 161 
 
 threw, as tbev were finished , on the floor 
 by his side. 
 
 He was a slight man with grizzled hair 
 and careworn countenance, deeply marked 
 with the lines Time draws, ah, so rapidly 
 on those with whom the battle of life goes 
 hard, and as previously related the world 
 had gone at times very hard with Cis 
 Langton. Occasionally he raised his eyes 
 to the clock, then bent over his work 
 again, and nothing but the scratching pen 
 broke the silence of the apartment. He 
 was grinding his brains in that hardest 
 of literary occupations, producing copy 
 against time. 
 
 Cis Langton would probably have been 
 a leading man at either literature or the 
 Bar ; but for the melancholy incident re- 
 lated by Lyttlereck. This mental earth- 
 quake came and left one dreary vista, such 
 as he shuddered to contemplate. When 
 men come to this there are but two things 
 that save them, I should perhaps have said 
 but one, for the first would inculcate the 
 second — I mean the consolation of religion, 
 or work. For religion, Langton had 
 about as much as many men of his class, 
 
 VOL. 1. M
 
 "J 162 Three Years. 
 
 that is lio believed, he believed. He saw 
 that Protestants turned Roman Catholics, 
 and vice versa. He knew that there was 
 a considerable difference in opinion as to 
 what was the legitimate path to tread. He 
 thought over the clergy of his acquaintance, 
 and felt that he had seen better men who 
 professed with their lives instead of only 
 witli their profession. Perhaps he had 
 been unfortunate in his acquaintances that 
 way ; he loathed the bigotry of the orators 
 of Exeter Hall who look upon it, that 
 they alone are in possession of the straight 
 road to Heaven. He was an intellectual 
 man, with, I fear, nothing but conven- 
 tionalism in lieu of faith. In short, in 
 those six months after what was to him 
 his 'life blood's death,' he was at war 
 with mankind. 
 
 In these days he might have studied 
 Geology, and wrought out a creed for him- 
 self, but fourteen years or so ago, we jet 
 lacked the teaching of Darwin and Colenso. 
 
 Work might have saved him : but he 
 had enough t-o live upon ; the motive was 
 gone, and the old energy had died out of 
 him. His saint upon earth was gone, her
 
 Cis Langton. 1 63 
 
 last words no incentive to exertion and 
 resignation, but incoherent babble. Do 
 you wonder that this man of the world, 
 worldly with no religious feeling to fall 
 back upon, felt his whole moral nature 
 collapse, and repined at what he regarded 
 as the injustice of the Almighty. The 
 sins of the Fathers shall be visited on 
 their children ; was that justice — who 
 shall say ? But it was hard to bear. He 
 had, you see, nothing to sustain him, so 
 he did as men will do sometimes under 
 such circumstances — lived for excitement. 
 Some in these cases take to drink- 
 ing, some to gambling. He chose the 
 latter ; like most men utterly reckless, 
 his career at first starting was marked 
 with success. He had a shrewd head, 
 used it almost mechanically and cared 
 so little whether he won or lost that he 
 played and bet boldly. After a little, find- 
 ing the stimulant hardly suflScient, he asso- 
 ciated deep drinking with it. The double 
 excitement is undoubtedly great, but the 
 two work badly together. Cis was no excep- 
 tion to the law of nature in such cases, and 
 soon found himself stranded. For the 
 
 M 2
 
 164 Tliree Years. 
 
 first time since Lucy's death I believe lie 
 felt happy, when after losing a large sum 
 on the Derby, he found himself with but a 
 few hundreds left. 
 
 He gave the gayest of dinners at the 
 ' Blue Posts,' the claret flowed like water, 
 wished his ' friends' good-bye as he was 
 going to South Australia, and retired 
 calmly to a second floor in Fulham. Here 
 his pen travelled rapidly — stinging cri- 
 tiques, crackling articles, a cleverish novel, 
 &c., brought him in money in fair quanti- 
 ties. He had given up the latter of his 
 two distractions, but whenever he scraped 
 a little money together, he threw it reck- 
 lessly down on some horse he fancied. 
 Many times did this fail, but at last his 
 turn came, and two or three lucky coups 
 put him in possession of some couple of 
 thousand pounds or so. Then he left off 
 writing, and went recklessly as of old to 
 the betting ring, only to lose in the 
 course of a few months his winnings, 
 and come once more back to the old 
 ti-ade. 
 
 But literature, like everything else, is a 
 business, and of course Magazine Editors
 
 Gis Langton. 165 
 
 and so on, could not trust one so volatile 
 as Cis Langton. Though his wares always 
 commanded a market, yet he lost the 
 chance of a comfortable income by his 
 constant abandonment of what was to him 
 to all intents and purposes now, a pro- 
 fession. It's the same of course in all 
 livelihoods — doctors, barristers, soldiers, 
 tradespeople or ploughmen can't throw 
 up their callings and come back to them ; 
 consequently, when driven back by reverses, 
 Cis Lano'ton was often some time before 
 he could get into satisfactory work again. 
 On some of these occasions he supplemented 
 his resources by giving a provincial enter- 
 tainment, and it was on one of these excur- 
 sions that he had so unblushingly denied 
 his identity to Tom Lyttlereck. 
 
 "Done at last !" he exclaimed, as with 
 a sigh of relief he threw down his pen 
 and glanced at the clock, " with sixteen 
 minutes to spare;" and rising from the 
 table he strolled to the window. There 
 was apparently nothing very inviting in 
 the view, for he soon turned away and 
 began to pace the apartment. Perhaps he 
 mused over his wasted life, and thought
 
 166 Three Years. 
 
 bitterh^ how different he had once pictured 
 it to himself. How many of us may do the 
 same, without the excuse of Cis Langton ? 
 
 A rattle of wheels, a loud ring at the 
 bell, a quick light step on the stair, and, 
 like a gleam of sunshine (demonstrative 
 sunshine, rather,) a fresh-looking girl of 
 seventeen dashes into the room, throws 
 her arms round his neck, exclaiming, 
 
 *' You dear papa ! How have you got 
 on without me all these weeks ?" 
 
 "Well, I don't know," he replied, as he 
 looked fondly in her face, and held her in 
 his arms. " It's been rather dull, Broezie, 
 darling, not having your bright face to 
 look at, when I got fagged with the pen 
 and paper work there," and he nodded his 
 head towards the writing-tjible. 
 
 " And you've had nobody to make your 
 tea for you, and nobody to insist on being 
 taken out for a run ; nobody to make her- 
 self a nuisance, and give you a fillip by 
 wanting all sorts of things that weren't 
 attainable," said the girl, as she took off 
 her bonnet, and disclosed those tumbling 
 masses of brown hair that had so fascinated 
 Jack Travers at King's Cross Station.
 
 Cis Langton. 167 
 
 " Oh, you papa, you must have ' had a 
 lethargy' without me, I'm sure." 
 
 " Not quite, Breezie, though I am very 
 glad to see you back again ; the work kept 
 me going, child. But how did you enjoy 
 3"0ur visit ? Were they kind to you ? and 
 did you shock them much with your harum 
 scarum ways ?" 
 
 " Now, that's not kind of you, to 
 call my ways harum scarum !" and the 
 young lady drew herself up, and made a 
 most lamentable failure of looking demure. 
 "They were very kind, and after just the 
 first, you know, said I was a wdld girl, 
 but it was the way I had been brought up ; 
 and Aunt Lina said she must like me for 
 Cis's sake. How fond they are, and how 
 much they think of you, papa." 
 
 " Yes, I believe I was always Aunt 
 Lina's pet nephew; more than I deserved, 
 I fear. She's a good old soul, and was a 
 handsome woman in her day. How does 
 she look now, Breezie ?" 
 
 " She's a dear old woman, and I can quite 
 understand how handsome she must have 
 been when she was young. Oh ! they were 
 all so kind ; and, do you know, it ended
 
 168 Tliree Years. 
 
 quite — by the way, T met a propliet on 
 my way down tliere !" 
 
 " A prophet ! Except the racing frater- 
 nity, I didn't know there were any extant 
 now-a-days. What was lie like, Breezie ? 
 An elderly gentleman with a beard, and a 
 card of tbe signs of the Zodiac, eh ?" 
 
 " No such, thing. Pray don't laugh at 
 me. He was very nice, and knocked off a 
 man's hat who was rude to me at the 
 station, and would have knocked him 
 down too, I tliink, with the slightest more 
 provocation." 
 
 " Halloa ! what's all this ? Who has 
 dared to be rude to my little girl ? I 
 ought not to have let you go alone." 
 
 " Oh ! never mind, papa ; he was only 
 a rude — what do you call it ? Oh ! I know 
 — ' cad,' isn't it ? However, this gentleman 
 came to ray assistance, and saw after me 
 and my luggage all the way to Hitchin, 
 and was very kind to me." 
 
 " And who the deuce was he, I wonder ? 
 However, I suppose you don't know — " 
 
 " Yes, I do, though, for I saw his name 
 on his gun-case ; he was a Mr. Travers, of 
 tlie — th Kegiment."
 
 Cis Langton. 169 
 
 " Travers ! Travers ! It strikes me I 
 have seen him somewhere ; but how do 
 you make him out a prophet, Breezie?" 
 
 " Wliy, I told him I was going to stay 
 with some relatives I had never seen ; that 
 I was rather afraid of them, and thought 
 I should shock them ; that I had always 
 had my own way — you know I have, 
 that I had been brought up abroad, 
 and was afraid they would be strict with 
 me. 
 
 " Not a very grammatical, and alto- 
 gether a most unnecessary account of your- 
 self, child. If you are so communicative 
 to strangers ; you musn't travel alone any 
 more." 
 
 " Oh ! nonsense, papa ! What do you 
 think he said ? lie prophecied I should 
 be the tyrant of that lamily before I was 
 there a fortnight, and implored me to be 
 merciful ; and, do you know, I did end in 
 doing exactly as I liked, and they all did 
 so too." 
 
 " Don't expect me to be surprised at 
 that, Breezie, who have suffered under the 
 tyranny for years," said her father, laugh- 
 
 mg.
 
 170 Three Years. 
 
 " Well, yoa know you like it, and — oh, 
 gracious ! my poor flowers. Why, I don't 
 believe they have been watered since I 
 left !" and the girl made a dash at the 
 sickly- looking plants in the window. 
 
 She was a dear orirl was Breezie Lano^- 
 ton, with her lithe figure, tumbling masses 
 of brown hair, sunny smile, and honest, 
 truthful e3"es, worth a score of your regular 
 beauties. As she said, she had been 
 brought up almost entirely abroad, and in 
 a queer way that would have been the ruin 
 of some girls ; but Breezie, with her honest, 
 truthful nature, had taken no hurt. She 
 had had a queer education, too, but was 
 by no means deficient in accomplishments ; 
 spoke French and Italian fluently; knew 
 something of music, and was clever with 
 her pencil. I don't tliink she had ever 
 learnt to dance, and I know her efforts 
 with her needle were of the feeblest. 
 
 " I hate it," she would say, " pottering 
 uninteresting stuff. As long as I can sew 
 on papa's buttons I M^ant to do no more." 
 
 Not a very sentimental speech, but there 
 was no affectation of sentiment about 
 Breezie Langton, and yet her sense of the
 
 Cis Langfon. 171 
 
 beautiful was very great. She appre- 
 ciated a fine poem, jncture or landscape. 
 She would, I am aft-aid, have rather 
 shocked society, and am quite sure society 
 generally would have bored her. Living 
 alone with her father, she saw few of her 
 own sex, and the men she met were prin- 
 cipally literary and artists. With them 
 Breezie could talk, and they liked to 
 hear her young fresh ideas as she sat, al- 
 most a child, at the head of her father's 
 table ; of Cis's turf pursuits she heard but 
 slightly. None of the slang and profli- 
 gacy of the turf ever polluted her ears, nor 
 had Cis ever introduced any of his racing 
 associates to the presence of his daughter. 
 Since the day he had watched the last 
 glimmer of life flicker from the lips of his 
 Lucy, Cis's heart had been dead to all 
 female influence with the exception of his 
 daughter's. She was all he had left on 
 earth to love, and he was devoted to 
 her. 
 
 None of his present associates knew the 
 melancholy past of Cis's history, or the 
 presence of this daughter might have as- 
 tonished them; but not ku owing, they
 
 172 Three Years. 
 
 wondered nothing, and simply accepted 
 things as they found them. 
 
 Langton stood fondly watching tlie 
 graceful form of his daughter as she bent 
 over the flowers, snipping ofl" a leaf here and 
 there, while the pale sunshine played 
 through her rich brown hair, making a 
 picture fair to look upon. 
 
 "And what did you do with yourself, 
 Breezie, all the time you were at Hitchin ? 
 Was it good fun ? Did you meet any 
 girls of your own age ? You so seldom see 
 any, I should think you wouldn't know 
 how to talk to them. Tell me about your- 
 self," and he threw himself into an easy- 
 chair. 
 
 She tripped across the room, and seated 
 herself on a low stool by his side. 
 
 "Ah," she said, "at first it was 
 rather dull ; I went out walking with them 
 a little, but they are old people you see, 
 and were afraid of the weather, and then 
 they walked so slow and couldn't go far. 
 However, I had my music and my draw- 
 ing. After a little I coaxed them into 
 letting me go out alone, telling them how 
 constantly I had to do it at home. AVell,
 
 Cis Langton. 173 
 
 tlie dear old souls thought it awfully 
 wroug or rather dangerous, fancied I 
 should be run away with, or over, or 
 something dreadful ; but came to the con- 
 clusion it must be very dull for me, so 
 then I was allowed to scamper about as 
 I liked, and went long walks by myself. 
 Poor Aunt Susan used to be shocked 
 sometimes at ray boots and petticoats. 
 Country roads are muddy you know, papa, 
 and you might as well not go out at all as 
 to try to keep your boots clean." 
 
 Langton laughed, as he thought of his 
 two priin old maiden aunts, who with their" 
 brother were the relations Breezie had 
 been spending the last six weeks or so 
 with. 
 
 " Well, but tell me about your parties, 
 child; didn't they have anyone to dine, or 
 take tea, or something while you were with 
 them ?" 
 
 " Oh dear, yes, what a funny thing a 
 good country dinner party is. We had 
 one about a fortnight after I got there, 
 and my aunts were in such a state. First 
 of all what I should wear ; whether I had 
 anything good enough. Dear old things,
 
 174 Three Years. 
 
 they would have ordered me all the brown 
 and grey silks in town, and dressed me to 
 look about five hundred, if I would have 
 let them ; indeed they were quite distressed 
 because I wouldn't have a new dress, and 
 Aunt Lina went the length at last of say- 
 ing I might choose it myself, if I would 
 promise not to be outre and fantastical. 
 I'he idea. Me outre, indeed ! however, at 
 last tliey allowed my white muslin, with 
 ivy green trimmings, might pass muster, 
 though it was foreign looking, and then, 
 oh, such fun. Such dusting and uncover- 
 ing of furniture, and I was banned the 
 drawing-room for two days. Oh, and my 
 lecture — as to how I mustn't talk music or 
 the continent to the archdeacon, because 
 he was very particular and looked upon 
 operas and foreigners as merely designs of 
 the ungodly. How I was to be sure and 
 ask the Miss Partingtons to sing. How, 
 if I had to talk to deaf Mr. Dempsey, I 
 must take no notice if he answered at ran- 
 dom and evidently didn't hear wliat I said ; 
 and then Aunt Lina, well, she did laugh 
 when she told me, said 1 musu't lose my 
 heart to Mr. Thompson, the curate. He's
 
 Cis Langton. 175 
 
 as old as you are, papa, and lie wears 
 spectacles." 
 
 " Don't be rude, Breezie. Don't you 
 think anybody migbt lose tlieir heart to me 
 yet?" 
 
 Breezie opened her large eyes like most 
 boys and girls of seventeen. She looked 
 upon her father, then barely turned forty, 
 as quite out of the category of love-mak- 
 ing. Children never do contemplate such 
 an event as a surviving ])arent marrying 
 again till they are near thirt}^ themselves, 
 and are even then apt to feel aggrieved at 
 it, when there is no earthly cause for their 
 being so. 
 
 "Well," she said at length. "You 
 would want somebody very nice, and then 
 papa, you know, you've me." 
 
 " Very true, pet, and that's quite enough 
 for the present; but how about your 
 dinner party ?" 
 
 " Oh ah," she said. " Weh, we were 
 all looking our best, and the furniture too, 
 with its brown holland clothes off. Aunt 
 Susan and Aunt Lina in a flutter of agita- 
 tion, trying to look as if they did't expect 
 anyone, and I feeling a most uncontrolable
 
 176 Three Years. 
 
 disposition to laugh. There was a knock, 
 and first came Mr. and the Miss Partins;- 
 tons, then came deaf Mr. Dempsey, then 
 the Archdeacon and Mr. Thompson, the 
 cnrate, arrived together, and then a Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wills completed the party. We 
 all made conversation till dinner was ready, 
 and I know I got on very badly with one 
 of the Miss Partiogtons. She had read 
 nothing I had, and was full of a new 
 novel, so pathetic she said, and some 
 cross stitch. The curate took me into 
 dinner and asked me if I liked churches, 
 and then whether I was interested in ferns 
 as there were fine specimens to be found 
 about there in the summer. I don't know 
 whether he meant churches or ferns, or 
 both, but I smiled and bowed. Then 
 Uncle Allen asked Mr. Dempsey to take 
 wine, and he said ' he didn't agree with 
 him,' at which uncle looked confused, the 
 Archdeacon chuckled, and Mr. Partino-ton 
 remarked poor Dempsey was getting in- 
 firm. Then the Archdeacon began a tre- 
 mendous story about somebody who must 
 have been very dreadful ; by the way they 
 all shook their heads and wondered what
 
 Cis Langton. 177 
 
 next indeed ; tliougli as far as I could 
 make out, the man only wanted to esta- 
 blish a chapel. Then Mr. Wills asked Mr. 
 Partington if he had seen the paper, and 
 they both came to the conclusion there 
 was nothing in it; here the Archdeacon 
 chimed in again, but he didn't seem to 
 have found anything more than they had, 
 for he summed up with nothing in it, posi- 
 tively nothing, and went the length of 
 adding, bnt there never is now-a-days. 
 Here Aunt Lina asked Mrs. Wills how her 
 baby was ; I don't think she had spoken 
 before, but she brightened up then, and 
 related a moving anecdote as to how it 
 had nearly choked with a plum-stone, or 
 a toy-soldier, or something or other it 
 never ought to have put in its mouth. 
 Miss Partington had a little to say then 
 about some fancy fair, that as you say 
 sometimes, papa, was ' looming in the 
 future,' and then I found myself yawning, 
 when luckily Aunt Susan bowed to Mrs. 
 Wills and we all sailed off to the drawing- 
 room. Oh, if it was dull in the dining- 
 room, my goodness, what was it in the 
 drawing-room. I had to pinch myself to 
 VOL. I. ♦ N
 
 178 Three Years. 
 
 keep awake, and caught myself answering 
 as much at random as poor Mr. Dempsey. 
 ]i*apa," said Breezie, gravely, and push- 
 ing back the heavy masses of her hair, 
 " I don't think I care much about Eng- 
 lish society." 
 
 "Well," laughed Langton, "you can't 
 be said to have seen it yet. You weren't 
 likely to meet any very lively people at 
 Ilitchin, I was afraid ; but what did you 
 do in the evening:?" 
 
 " When the gentlemen came we had a 
 little music. The Miss Partingtons did 
 a little orchestral thunder too-ether on the 
 piano, and then one of them sung Long- 
 fellow's ' Bridge,' very feebly. I couldn't 
 help thinking when she came to ' the bur- 
 tlien laid upon me is greater than I can 
 bear,' that she was rather transferring it 
 to us. Well, they asked me to sing, so T 
 sang one of my little French songs — and 
 they all looked, I thought, rather shocked. 
 Aunt Lina came over and said it was very 
 pretty, but tliey'd rather hear me sing 
 something English. Do you know I felt 
 very naughty, and had half a mind to 
 see what the Archdeacon would think of
 
 Cis Langton. 1 79 
 
 ' Cigars and Cognac' Wouldn't it have 
 astonished them ? and if I'd recollected the 
 words I really think I should. Now don't 
 look shocked, papa, I didn't do it ; I sang 
 ' The Last Rose of Summer' instead. Well, 
 it all came to an end at last, and just before 
 they left they said I must sing one more 
 song, so I sent them off with ' Up in the 
 muirning's nae for me' instead — appro- 
 priate, wasn't it r" 
 
 " Breezie, you're a spoilt girl, and I'm 
 afraid I musn't let you go visiting again 
 without me ; but go and see what we can 
 have for dinner, then get your bonnet, I 
 want to go into town ; a run will do 
 you good, child, and if we see anything 
 tempting in the play-bills we'll take seats 
 for to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh, charming ! that will be dehghtfal, 
 I know there's lots of things I want to 
 see ; I won't be a minute. By the way, 
 where did you say you met Mr. Travers, 
 papa ?" 
 
 "I don't think I said I had met him 
 anywhere ; I only said I thought I had ; 
 but whv ?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing, I don't know; only I 
 
 N 2
 
 180 Three Years. 
 
 thought — I'll be back in a minute," and 
 Breezie danced out of the room, 
 
 " Travers," muttered Cis, " Travers, 
 where the devil did I meet a Travers ? 
 Racing somewhere, I think. Yes, by 
 Jove, I believe that's the name of the 
 young fellow who had such a good night 
 at the rooms at Doncaster three years 
 ago, and lost it all again on The Cup next 
 day."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PEIVATE THEATEICALS AT EYALSTON. 
 
 Feom one country house to another, it 
 may sound monotonous, but such after 
 all is very much the life that idlers, like 
 Repton and Lyttlereck, lead from the 
 beginning of the shooting season till Easter. 
 These idlers of society, I wonder whether 
 their lives are cast in quite such pleasant 
 places as would appear — I fancy not. It 
 is so easy to get bored in this world ; we 
 get tired of good dinners and of good 
 shooting even, and long for the rough 
 fare, the hard work and the uncertain 
 bag. 
 
 " Labour, the symbol of man's punishment ; 
 Labour, the secret of man's happiness." 
 
 Shooting may be made too easy. I 
 recollect hearing a story told of a crack
 
 182 Three Years, 
 
 shot to whom the choicest of covers and 
 ' warmest of corners ' were always open, 
 which rather bears upon this. 
 
 He was expected to shoot at a noble 
 lord's — the cover of the Manor had been 
 specially kept for his edification. The 
 head-keeper was in a state of fever to get 
 him into the right place. He was sent 
 forward to a corner of celebrity, while the 
 other guns with the beaters worked slowly 
 up to him. Pheasant after pheasant rose 
 and went whirring off in liis direction, still 
 an ominous silence proclaimed that the 
 rocketers were escaping their destiny. 
 The head-keeper fidgetted, " The gentle- 
 man must have got to the wrong corner. 
 
 Bill, where did you place Mr. r" 
 
 Another half dozen cocks whirred straight 
 across the fjital corner, not a sign, no 
 report, nothing but a portentous silence ! 
 " The gentleman's all in the ^vi^ong place," 
 and the head-keeper stopped the line while 
 he himself made the best of his way to the 
 said corner. I should think that keeper's 
 face would have reduced any modern 
 Apelles to despair, as l)e beheld the ob- 
 ject of liis solicitude lying flat on his back.
 
 Private Theatricals at Ryalston. 133 
 
 a big cigar in his mouth, while the first 
 sound that met his horrified ears, as the 
 recumbent sportsman lazily levelled his 
 gun at a rocketer, was : 
 
 " Oh, you brute ! how I could cut you 
 over if it wasn't so much trouble." 
 
 Your idle man is always craving fresh 
 excitement, he must have it ; but I fancy 
 when you take in his sufferings under the 
 the reaction, the excitement being over, 
 the workers of this world have a deal the 
 best of it. 
 
 However, your country-house life is very 
 pleasant, and these same idlers find it emi- 
 nently adapted to their vocation. , A game 
 at bilhards, a stroll about the place in 
 pleasant society, a day's gunning, a 
 novel in the library if the weather is bad, 
 and we feel sulky. One's evening rubber, 
 the cheery chaff of the smoking-room 
 afterwards, charades or private theatri- 
 cals; and this bring us to our subject, for 
 there never was a greater devotee of the 
 stage than Sir Thomas Lechmere of Ryal- 
 ston Park. 
 
 In his younger days about town, Sir 
 Thomas had been a steady patron of the
 
 184 Three Years. 
 
 drama. He knew all the leading actors 
 and actresses. Itwasliis hobby, he lived a 
 j^reat deal in the theatrical world, and 
 never was so happy as when joining or 
 o-iving ijetit soupers to theatrical artists. 
 Very pleasant recollections he entertained 
 of those joyous reunions after the success- 
 ful debut perhaps of a new piece. None 
 of your dull formal entertainments, but 
 men and women both came, their work 
 over, full of fun and spirit, determined to 
 enjoy themselves. Good things were said, 
 good stories were told, and when they 
 were not quite so good, the joyous com- 
 pany laughed just as much He was 
 himself a very fair amateur, which means 
 of course that he would have been dear at 
 thirty shillings a week in the profession ; 
 and when he came into the property, 
 immediately added a small theatre to the 
 house. For some few years the Ryalston 
 Theatricals were celebrated. Most of the 
 leading amateurs of the day having ' fi^etted 
 their hour ' on those boards. As he arot 
 on in life, Sir Thomas naturally abandoned 
 the ' sock and buskin,' contenting himself 
 with relating his last successes in Sir
 
 Private Theatricals at Bijalston. 185 
 
 Peter Teazle, Sir Anthouj Absolute, &c. 
 The return of his eldest son from Oxford, 
 severely smitten with stage fever, delighted 
 him. The theatre was once more put in 
 full swing, and thou^'h no longer taking 
 an active part in the performance, he con- 
 stituted himself a supernumerary manager, 
 being as enthusiastic about the whole 
 business as the youngest member of the 
 company. The Ryalston Theatricals be- 
 came once more an institution, and at 
 Ryalston Park are assembled most of our 
 dramatis personce, with a view to the culti- 
 vation of the drama and to the enjoyment 
 of a final few days at the pheasants. 
 
 A fine old house it was, standing on a 
 hill looking patronizingly over one of the 
 finest grass counties in England. A 
 noble and well-wooded park surrounded 
 it, inhabited by troops of fallow deer. 
 Hares cantered away leisurely before you, 
 whilst the rabbits scuttled from your 
 approach in that state of excited bustle 
 that seems to be their normal condition. 
 Here an old cock-pheasant was sunning 
 himself, making the most of the pale 
 January sun, while the next turn of the
 
 186 Three Years. 
 
 shrubbery brought you face to face with 
 ' the monarch of the glen,' for Ryalston 
 Park boasted a few mighty red deer, 
 making their dapple-coated brethren look 
 wholly despicable. 
 
 Plentiful, too, were those sly meander- 
 ing walks leading nowhere in particular ; 
 so dehghtful to couples in the first simmer 
 of flirtation, so aggravating when you 
 want to find anyone in a hurry. How 
 perspiring footmen, with a note marked 
 ' immediate' for the master of the house, 
 must curse them. How one has oneself 
 sometimes, when in hot pursuit of Jack 
 Boldero to make up a four game at billiards, 
 one has stumbled suddenly on Tom Soap- 
 ington and Miss Flirtingale who look 
 up with an aggrieved expression that is 
 hard to bear ; one feels oneself de trap, 
 and they feel bound to ejaculate a few 
 common-places before we are suffered to 
 proceed. I wonder what proportion mar- 
 riages made by design bear to those made 
 by accident. I would back the latter to 
 predominate. To be sure there are acci- 
 dents for good as for evil, as when your 
 leg was broken on the South Eastern, while
 
 Private Theatricals at Rijalston. 187 
 
 your friend, thanks to a jibbing horse 
 arrived five minutes too late for the train. 
 Destiny, destiny ! Napoleon believed in 
 it, and a pretty end it brought him to. 
 So when Tom Soapington comes out of 
 that meanderino; walk, and finds himself 
 engaged to Miss Flirtingale, he wonders 
 what his destiny has brought him to. 
 He never meant it when he strolled out 
 that morninf]f. It was all those infernal 
 walks and the idleness of a country-house 
 life. He smokes a cio;ar and wonders 
 how it will all work out, and the chances 
 are remains in a sort of vacuous bewilder- 
 ment till ' the happy day' at St. George's, 
 Hanover Square. He and Mrs. Soaping- 
 ton get on very well afterwards ; but if 
 you could induce Tom to tell you the 
 truth, he would inform you that he had 
 as much idea of matrimony as of elephant 
 shooting in Ceylon when he entered that 
 shrubbery. His' wife, perhaps, would tell 
 you a different story. The women know 
 these things so much quicker than we do. 
 But where am I getting to ? which is per- 
 haps the remark Tom Lyttlereck might 
 have made to himself as he strolled through
 
 18S Tliree Years. 
 
 the E-yalston shrubberies with Laura 
 Clippington that fine January morning. 
 
 I don't know whether you were ever 
 engaged in private theatricals; but you 
 may depend upon it, teaching a pretty 
 girl her part is a mighty pleasant though 
 dangerous operation. Byron made some 
 apropas remarks to female teaching in 
 reo-ard to lang^uao;es. I don't think he 
 would have thought it mattered much 
 which side the teaching came from, or 
 what the teaching was about, 
 
 " It is pleasant to be schooled in a strange tongue." 
 
 He certainly makes the condition : 
 
 " When both the teacher and the taught are young, 
 * * * * 
 
 They smile so when one's right and when one's wrong." 
 
 " Now, Miss Laura," said Tom, " we 
 had better just run through this scene of 
 ours before rehearsal. It won't take us 
 ten minutes." 
 
 The misguided enthusiast is proposing 
 to rehearse a love scence in a shrubbery, 
 and thinks they can do it in ten minutes. 
 
 " Lyttlereck, Lyttlereck, where are 
 you ?" shouted young Lechmere.
 
 Private Theatricals at Uijalston. 189 
 
 " Here I am," replied Tom, angrily. 
 " You needn't break your voice over it." 
 
 " Here's the whole rehearsal waiting for 
 you and Miss Clippington. Do come along, 
 we shall never get through before lunch." 
 
 " Don't be absurd, it's only just half past 
 eleven, and Miss Laura and I are studying 
 hard. Just runnino- throug-h one or two 
 of the most effective situations." 
 
 " Sorry to interrupt you ; but perhaps 
 you'll come and try those effective situa- 
 tions a little more publicly. In my capa- 
 city of manager I ought to fine you both 
 for being late." 
 
 "What an old despot it is," growled 
 Tom. " We were so absorbed in study, we 
 didn't know how time was slipping away." 
 
 " No, I don't suppose you were keeping 
 much account of time," said Lechmere, 
 laughing. " The drama is a very enthrall- 
 ing pursuit, don't you think so. Miss 
 Laura ?" 
 
 Laura coloured slightly as she replied, 
 " Well we must learn our words sometime. 
 We are quite ready for you now. Don't be 
 savage ; I've no doubt you know nothing 
 of your own part. It's a very easy role
 
 190 Three Years. 
 
 to be a manager and find fault witli every- 
 body." 
 
 " You are quite right, Miss Clippington, 
 tliat's about the most correct definition of 
 a manaofer's business I ever heard. Here 
 we are ! now then," he said, as they en- 
 tered the theatre, " clear the stage, all 
 ready for the first piece. Who'll hold the 
 book ? Here, Puzzleton, you've nothing 
 to do, just prompt will you, like a good 
 fellow ?'" 
 
 They are wonderfully alike all these 
 amateur rehearsals. There's the nervous 
 man who knows every word of his part 
 perfectly ; but can't speak two consecutive 
 sentences without looking at his book. 
 There's the contumacious man who be- 
 cause his book says to " enter right," can- 
 not be made to understand that the exi- 
 gencies of this particular stage require him 
 to "enter left;" who steadily, because the 
 stage directions lay down " speaking out- 
 side," will insist upon saying the whole 
 sentence " outside" instead of " coming on 
 speaking." There's the man who has 
 discovered some particular effect, which 
 you cannot make him understand is quite
 
 Private Thecitricals at Eyalston. 191 
 
 out of character with his part. Such, 
 for instance, as introducing a bit of low 
 comedy business, which he has seen in 
 a London farce, into " Charles Surface" or 
 " Jack Absolute." There's the man with- 
 out an iota of acting^ in him who invaria- 
 bly makes a mess of the six lines entrusted 
 to him, but is firmly persuaded he would 
 be a great success if he had only " enough 
 to do." The man who don't care what he 
 plays, as long as you give him lots of gold 
 embroidery, silk stockings and gorgeous 
 buckles. There's the lady who objects to 
 being embraced — there's the gentleman 
 afraid to do it — at all events on the stage. 
 There's the man who never knows his part, 
 but assures you it will be all right on the 
 night, (cut out of your best scene or exit 
 you feel what reliance is to be placed on 
 such protestations.) There is the lady 
 who will dress an elderly woman as five 
 and-twenty, and the lady who will wear 
 her jewels in the chamber-maid's part. 
 There's the man who can't sins* and will 
 sing, while scarce are the men or women 
 who can act and will rehearse sufficiently. 
 Still they are great fun, amateur thea-
 
 192 Three Years. 
 
 tricals, and the rehearsals perhaps far the 
 best part of them. Stay, I am not sure 
 whether the supper when all is over is not 
 the real cream of the thing. When you 
 flatter each other about how well it has 
 all gone off — how well everyone did, and 
 though Jones did cut two pages of dialogue 
 there, (it was the very gist of the plot) 
 nobody could have guessed it in fi'ont. 
 
 Great, of course, had been the discussion 
 as to what piece they should play. Every 
 post brought down a fresh parcel from 
 Lacy. Travers and Forbes had been en- 
 thusiastic on burlesque, and raved of the 
 effect of song and ' break down,' turning 
 their conversation for the nonce into mock 
 heroics; but this had been overruled by 
 the majority. Comedy after comedy was 
 rejected, because there were not enough 
 good parts in them. 
 
 " All are Hamlets and none are Laertes, 
 Pray act something with nothing but kings, 
 Romeo's all in tears ; Beverly volunteers 
 Ready to fall in tears choke uj) the way ; 
 Generalissimos hunting bravissimos — 
 Devil a private to act in your play." 
 
 There is no diffidence amongst amateurs,
 
 Frivate Theatricals at Ryalston. 193 
 
 the thing to consider is whether there 
 is scope enough to develop everybody's 
 talents. At last " The School for 
 Scandal " was pitched upon, as dressy 
 and affording numberless opportunities 
 of attaining distinction. 
 
 " Now, then, stage if you please," said 
 Lechmere. "Miss Clippington do you 
 mind standinsf at the wino; ?" 
 
 " No ; but, Mr. Lechmere, I just wanted 
 to ask yoQ about my dress," said Minnie. 
 " I needn't be an old fright if I do play 
 Mrs. Candour — need I ? I don't see why 
 she shouldn't be a young woman if she 
 does talk scandal." 
 
 " No, certainly. Scandal's not confined 
 exclusively to old ladies. It's usual not 
 to dress it too young. I wouldn't if I 
 were you. More effective, you know, 
 older." 
 
 " That's what Charlie keeps saying. 
 I'm sure making; oneself hideous cannot 
 be effective !" 
 
 " No, no, I don't mean that — don't be 
 too girlish, that's all. I'm sure your own 
 good taste can be implicitly relied on ?" 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 Three Years. 
 
 " I should think so ; and I shall tell him 
 you said so." 
 
 *' Now, then, are you ready ? Scene 
 second. Act 11. Forbes, Travers, Mrs. 
 Inglemere, and Lyttlereck, ready ? You 
 enter right, isn't it ?" 
 
 *' Yes, all right." 
 
 " ' Act first, Scene one, three robbers 
 enter. First robber enters L, and goes to 
 centre.^ " 
 
 " Now do be quiet, Jack. Where's 
 Forbes ?" 
 
 " Here am I. 
 
 " Avenge your brother, Blazo takes the stage." 
 
 " Confound you ! will you be quiet ? 
 Do attend to what you've got to do, and 
 let those departed extravaganzas rest in 
 peace. Who's got the book ? oh, you 
 have, Puzzleton ; have you found the 
 place ? That's the side to prompt from." 
 
 Puzzleton, a little man in spectacles, a 
 professor of Oxford, wholly innocent of 
 theatricals, except in the form of Euripides, 
 &c., nervously went to the wing and 
 fumbled over the " Lacy's Acting Edition " 
 which had been thrust into his hand.
 
 Private Theatricals at Ryalston. 195 
 
 '* Good o;racious ! where is Mrs. IiiQ-Ie- 
 mere ? Oh, I beg your pardon. Now, Rep- 
 tou, like a good fellow, do stop talking." 
 
 "I was only hearing Mrs. Inglemere her 
 part. She knows nothing of it as yet." 
 
 " How can you say so, Mr. Repton ! 
 I'm quite perfect in the first four pages, 
 only you put me out so." 
 
 " Well, please begin. You commence as 
 Lady Sneerwell." 
 
 " Let's see, what is my first sentence ? 
 — oh, I know 
 
 *' ' Lady Sneerivell : Nay, positively, we 
 will hear it.' 
 
 " ' Joseph Surface : " Oh, yes, the epi- 
 gram by all means.' 
 
 " ' Sir Benjamin : " Oh, plague on it ! 
 uncle, 'tis mere nonsense.' " 
 
 And the rehearsal proceeds tolerably 
 smoothly for some little way, when 
 Mrs. Inglemere wants ' the word.' Puz- 
 zleton, who has been contemplating the 
 stage with great interest, is vehemently 
 appealed to. 
 
 " Oh, dear, yes. Wait a minute, I've 
 lost the place. Where are they ? I forgot 
 to follow them." 
 
 2
 
 196 Three Years. 
 
 " HaDg- ifc, Puzzletou ! tbis'll never do ! 
 You shouldn't take your eye off the 
 book." 
 
 " But they were going on so well. I 
 thought they knew it all, so I just — " 
 
 " Exactly," interrupted Lechmere ; " but 
 you should be always thinking they don't 
 know it, and will want ' the word ' every 
 minute. Now then, the cue, if you please. 
 Miss Clippington — ' Tries to pass for a 
 girl of six-and-thirty.' Now, Mrs. Ingle- 
 mere. * True, and then as to her man- 
 ner—' " 
 
 " Oil, yes, I know now. ' True, and 
 then,' " &c., once more the rehearsal runs 
 on. By the time the luncheon-bell rings, 
 they have got just to the end of the fourth 
 act, in which Laura as ' Lady Teazle,' and 
 Sir Thomas, who has been induced once 
 more to resume his old character of ' Sir 
 Peter,' display great spirit in the screen 
 scene. 
 
 A little round of applause greeted Laura 
 as they finished. 
 
 " Brayvo ! Miss Laura," said Forbes. 
 
 " Brayvo you overcomes me quite, 
 Now mind you do it just like that at night."
 
 Private TJieatricals at Ryalston. 197 
 
 " Capital," said Lyttlereck, " you do it 
 beautifully." 
 
 " Do you tliink so really ?" 
 
 " Of course he does," said Leclimere. 
 " Look here, we must have the fifth act 
 directly after lunch." 
 
 "Regular case of ' B limber, ' " said 
 Repton, "gentlemen we will resume 
 our studies at three o'clock." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Lechmere, I'm afraid I shall 
 never be able to learn all my words," 
 sighed Mrs. Inglemere. 
 
 " Yes, you will, get Mr. Repton to hear 
 you them, that's the easiest way, you'll 
 have no difficulty then." 
 
 " If Mr. Repton wouldn't mind the 
 trouble," said the widow with a bewitch- 
 ing smile, and an appealing glance from 
 her bright eyes. 
 
 " Shall only be too happy, I'm sure," 
 said Charlie. 
 
 " Oh, thank you so much, I know I'm 
 very stupid, but if you really wouldn't 
 mind helping me." 
 
 " Only too glad to be of service to Mrs. 
 Inglemere as she well knows," said Charlie 
 gallantly.
 
 198 Three Years. 
 
 The widow smiled sweetly, and tliouglifc 
 private theatricals might be pleasant after 
 all — a fact she had been beginning to 
 have misgivings about. 
 
 " Well, I'm sure," murmured Laura to 
 Tom Lyttlereck. " She's beginning to 
 play Lady Sneerwell to his Charles Sur- 
 face with a vengeance. Entering quite 
 into the spirit of the part, isn't she ?" 
 
 Tom laughed, and said he thought 
 Charlie could take very good care of him- 
 self. 
 
 " Charlie, yes ; I don't think he'll come 
 to harm. Mr. Lechmere, I suppose you 
 noticed Mrs. Inglemere never gives one a 
 correct cue." 
 
 " Well not quite so correct as they 
 should be, but you're all so quick and 
 have so much nerve, it don't much matter." 
 Young Lechmere showed great powers 
 of diplomacy in the management of his 
 troop. 
 
 " I'm sure she'll never act. 
 
 " Perhaps not, Tiaura," said Charlie Rep- 
 ton, who had just returned from escorting 
 the widow across to the dininof-room. " But 
 if she can't act, she'll look deuced hand-
 
 Private Theatricals at Ityalston. 199 
 
 some. If slie don't pay mucli attention 
 to her words she will to her dress." 
 
 "Yes, and you're responsible for her 
 words now, Charlie. I must go and get 
 some lunch," and Laura tripped away. 
 
 "Well, Professor," inquired Lechmere, 
 " what do you think of it ?" 
 
 " 1 see on the modern stage you don't 
 employ the chorus." 
 
 " No, most mcZ6^coro^ts," said Jack Tra- 
 vers, his head still full of extravaganzas. 
 
 " No, Professor, people are rude enough 
 to say at times that that's all done by the 
 prompter, however, in our case we'll hope 
 they won't hear much of him. But come 
 along and get some lunch, I'm sure we're 
 all in need of support." 
 
 "Eather," said Forbes. 
 
 "Now could I drink hot grog, sing comic songs, 
 Or join the gay casino's mazy throngs. 
 
 "Which means I'm good for sherry and 
 a chop." 
 
 " Do stop your balderdash, Frank," 
 said Tom Lyttlereck. 
 
 " Sirrah," cried Forbes, striking an at- 
 titude after the manner of burlesque,
 
 200 TJiree Years. 
 
 " I'd sooner mill you I hate than live humiliated." 
 
 "All right," replied Tom, laughing, 
 but 
 
 a 
 
 " Let's have some luncheon now, 
 And then I'm with you if you're for a row." 
 
 With which they trooped into luncheon. 
 
 Poor Lady Lechmere was luckily used 
 to it, or she might have been driven 
 well nigh crazy with the theatrical chaff 
 that buzzed around her. " Very good bit 
 of business that of yours with the sherry." 
 " Pie wants no prompter with regard to 
 that hashed hare." " If you continue 
 eating cake in that way you'll exit before 
 your time," &c., mixed up with any amount 
 of quotations from popular extravaganzas, 
 by Forbes and Travers, were flying round 
 the table. 
 
 One word of advice, reader. If you 
 should ever be in a house in which private 
 theatricals are in full blast, and are not 
 personally concerned in them, receive a 
 letter by the morrow's post to attend your 
 uncle's funeral, or something of like urgent 
 necessity, and depart while the wits God 
 hath given you yet remain.
 
 Private TJieatricals at Ryalston. 201 
 
 Mrs. Inglemere alone showed thorough 
 discretion; oblivious of the storm that 
 raged around her, she devoted herself 
 quietly to her chicken and her flirtation 
 with Charlie Repton, whom she had dex- 
 terously signalled to her side on his en- 
 trance.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A SMOKTNG-EOOM EEVEL. 
 
 A BRIGHT cheery octagon was the smok- 
 ing-room at Ryalston. The walls decor- 
 ated with tlie heads of mighty stags ; " a 
 head often" was of small account in that 
 pleasant symposium, and how many points 
 that tremendous " monarch of the srlen" 
 above the mantel-piece counts is difficult 
 to ascertain after dinner, anH a fertile 
 source of argument and dispute. 
 
 The room is lit by a quaint chandelier 
 of red-deer antlers interlaced till they form 
 a large circle. Cunningly devised tubes, 
 almost invisible, conduct the gas till it 
 seems to burst in little jets from the 
 ])oints of the liorns. On each octagonal 
 side of tlic fire-place stands an apparently 
 carved oak book-case ; but lookino- 
 through the glass doors of one we see
 
 A Smoking-room Bevel. 203 
 
 rangfed in rack ten or a dozen " double 
 barrels," and in the otlier driving-whips 
 of every description from the light tandem 
 whip to the short argumentative flail, so 
 efficacious in the shooting Whitechapel. 
 Pictures of favourite hunters and clever 
 shooting ponies hang about the walls, and 
 a case or two of stuffed birds are on the 
 top of the fictitious book-cases. Lounging 
 chairs and sofas, with a couple of neat 
 writiug-tables at the far sides of the room, 
 constitute the furniture. 
 
 The writing-tables seem at a discount 
 just now, and the party assembled are 
 lounging pleasantly round the fire in all 
 the vagaries of smoking jackets and slip- 
 pers that the present age so plenteously 
 affords. 
 
 " Well," observed Tom Lyttlereck, " after 
 blazing at pheasants to the extent we did 
 to-day — don't interrupt, Charlie, I didn't 
 say killing them, though considering the 
 rocketers were none so easy, I got a fair 
 proportion." 
 
 A loud hem from Charlie. 
 
 *' What I was about to observe when 
 so indehcately reminded of my short-
 
 204 Three Years. 
 
 comings, was that it all conduces to intense 
 enjoyment of tLe evening cigar." 
 
 " Sorry I should have been thought 
 guilty for one moment of interrupting the 
 enunciation of such an original discovery. 
 Who's had time to look at the papers 
 and see what the world in general is 
 about ?" 
 
 *' Belle Brabazon's married, I see," said 
 Lechmere ; *' an old flame of your's, Charlie, 
 isn't she?" 
 
 " Yes," was the languid response, 
 
 " ' The loves of our youth how in youth we adore 'em : 
 Nt^c turn quidem vcteruni imincmor amorum,' 
 
 under which circumstances, I must go 
 the length of asking what particular beast 
 she lias married." 
 
 " AVhy that stock-broking fellow of 
 course," chimed in Tom. "What's his 
 name — idi — Bartley, no end of tin. I should 
 think upon the whole Belle's done none 
 so badly." 
 
 "There ho goes, not an atom of con- 
 sideration for my outraged feelings. Tom 
 you're a Goth, with no fine chords in your 
 barbarian nature. 1 should think upon
 
 A Smoking-room Revel. 205 
 
 the whole she would rather astonish Bart- 
 ley. Did any one ever hear him talk, I 
 don't mean on Change, but in society ; by 
 the way I did once hear him say, ' devlish 
 good ;' but whether he alluded to his 
 neighbour's remark or the dry champagne 
 1 don't know, probably the latter." 
 
 " None of your scandal, Charlie. Belle 
 will make a very good wife. Your des- 
 perate flirts tone down, and matrimony 
 sobers your wild ones. For my part, I amnot 
 clear I wouldn't sooner marry a thorough 
 going flirt than not. They get it over 
 before marriage, and know all about it, see 
 what waste of time and constitution it is, 
 and eschew it afterwards. It's your quiet 
 demure young ladies who kick over the 
 traces and plunge into that 
 
 " ' Idle chase of hopes and fears. 
 Begun in folly ends in tears.' 
 
 Besides, you're not an impartial judge of 
 Bartley. He's not a bad fellow in his 
 way." 
 
 " That's always said of an arrant beast, 
 and when you apply for information, no 
 one knows what is his way."
 
 206 Three Years. 
 
 " Confound 3'ou, remain in your unbe- 
 lief aliout Bartley, and let me — " 
 
 "Marry the biggest flirt in England," 
 broke in Charlie. " As you like, my boy. 
 You are too old and too obstinate for your 
 friends to interfere with. Puzzleton, mine 
 ancient, you have listened to the voice 
 of the Saga, and I hope your thirst 
 for information is appeased. Have you 
 no light to throw on the subject, or is 
 tliy spirit oppressed with another conun- 
 drum ?" 
 
 The individual thus appealed to was, as 
 I have said before, an Oxford professor. 
 A little, thin, slight, man in spectacles, with 
 a pale shrewd face set in mutton chop 
 whiskers. He had been tutor to Charlie 
 and Lcchmcre in their undergraduate days. 
 Out of his university world he was inno- 
 cent as a child. He seldom left it, and 
 when there, was always extracting the 
 square root, pursuing something to the 'nth 
 power, skimming the differential calculus 
 or chuckhng over conic sections. Incon- 
 gruous as it may seem with his mathe- 
 matical bent, ho revelled in riddles of all 
 kinds. Had an immense collection of
 
 A SmoMng-TOom Revel. 207 
 
 them, and would dedicate himself to the 
 unravellino: of a new one with as much 
 ardour as a quadratic equation, though his 
 efforts in the latter direction were far 
 more likely to be crowned with success. 
 Charlie to this day swears that the qu9sre 
 " What two whole numbers multiplied 
 together make five ? cost him two hours 
 severe study, in the course of which he 
 covered a sheet of foolscap with figures, 
 and then had to give it up." The Pro- 
 fessor strenuously denies the latter part, 
 and declares he found it out himself. For 
 the rest he is a good straightforward httle 
 man, much liked by Charlie and Lech- 
 mere, and when cast so completely out of 
 his element, as at Ryalston, an indefatig- 
 able asker of questions. In short, take him 
 away from his University, and he is a 
 harmless little man with a childlike curi- 
 osity, and an insatiable love of conun- 
 drums. 
 
 *' No, I was not thinking of conun- 
 drums just then, though now you mention 
 it, I can't at all make out that one Miss 
 Clippington asked at dinner. ' Why is the 
 Prime Minister like a boot-jack ?' I sus-
 
 208 Three Years. 
 
 pect," continued Puzzleton with a chuckle 
 " that will take some working out." 
 
 " "What time do we begin to-morrow, 
 Lechmere?" inquired Tom. 
 
 " Early ; sorry for you, but we can't 
 help it. We have seven or eight miles 
 to go over a bad road ; breakfast at 
 nine, the break at the door by a quarter 
 to ten, sharp. It'll bo eleven then before 
 we begin to shoot — " 
 
 "It's downright awful !" groaned Char- 
 lie. '* I don't mind the early closing 
 movement, it don't affect me ; but this 
 early rising movement is a horrible inno- 
 vation. It brings back the agonies of ray 
 American trip vividly to my recollec- 
 tion." 
 
 " "What were those, Repton ?" inquired 
 Tuzzleton, " I never heard of them." 
 
 " Ah ! didn't I tell you ? Well, if ever 
 there was an essentially uncomfortable 
 ])eople, it is iho Americans," rephed 
 Charlie. " If ever there was a man who 
 appreciates his little comforts about him 
 it's I. The consequence is my nervous 
 system was about shattered by the end of 
 mv tri[). All American knows nothino^
 
 A Smoking-room Bevel. 209 
 
 about comfort, I suppose they haven't 
 time ; they are always in such a con- 
 founded hurry to get somewhere or do 
 something, it makes one hot and fidgetty 
 to look at them. They've never apparently 
 time to dine. Very limited time to dress 
 that is the men — for the women, I should 
 say, have time for nothing else. They all 
 seem to have been born a little late, and to 
 be engaged in one perpetual struggle to 
 make up those two or three hours lost at 
 starting. Catching everlasting express 
 trains by the most strenuous exertions. I 
 need scarcely add that a nation that lives 
 in such a confounded bustle has no time to 
 sleep. 
 
 " There's an old obsolete maxim about 
 ' when vou are at Rome,' &c., which I 
 persistently disregard on principle. If 
 chance threw me among the Carribees, I 
 don't conceive I am bound to peg away at 
 my fellow-creatures because cannibalism is 
 the fashion in those parts. So why should 
 I, who had eschewed early rising and 
 hurry all my life, change my habits because 
 I was in America. If they hadn't time to 
 sleep I had, and with this sentiment did I 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 Three Years. 
 
 carefully lock my door in the Continental 
 Hotel at Philadelphia just before I tumbled 
 into bed. Next mornino^ I was awoke from 
 the sweetest slumber by a battery of knocks, 
 and a stronor Hibernian accent informed me 
 through the key-hole * that it was eight 
 o'clock,' as if time was anvthinof to me, I 
 had just dozed off again, when once more 
 
 ' Uid boney knuckles 'gainst the panel drum,' 
 
 and what did the Pythoness want ? I 
 never saw her, but know she must have 
 been hideous. Nothins^ but to shriek 
 through the key-hole : ' Has yez towells 
 enough ?' Once more did soft slumber 
 close my longing eyes, rudely to be dis- 
 pelled by hearing my door roughly tried, 
 and the Pythonic chamber-maid explaining 
 the phenomenon of a gentleman not being 
 u{) at ten o'clock by the exclamation, 
 * Shure the man must be dead !' " 
 
 "Huh," said Puzzleton, "I can fancy 
 your feelings. I recollect in the old 
 college days, morning chapel was a pro- 
 blem you always found difficult to solve — 
 quite a pons asinornin,^^ and the little man 
 chuckled.
 
 A SmoJcing-room Revel. 211 
 
 " Silence, jou reprobate ! how can yon 
 have the harcUesse to allude to those days ? 
 Does it never cross your mind that Lech- 
 mere and I mio'ht aveno'e the tortures we 
 underwent with those Greek choruses. I 
 can't see a frog now without shuddering 
 and thinking of Oxford and Aristopha- 
 nes." 
 
 " Dear me ! yes I don't know which of 
 us was most sick of it," replied Puzzleton. 
 " What a relief it was when we broke off 
 to have a turn at conic sections, or some- 
 thing of that sort." 
 
 *' Hark at him ! hark at him !" cried 
 Charlie. " Read us something out of the 
 paper, Tom, or he'll set me a quadratic 
 equation." 
 
 " Deuce of an accident on the Eastern 
 Counties. Two people killed, eight or nine 
 broke, and nobody to blame of course." 
 
 " Of course there isn't !" chimed in 
 Lechmere. " It's quite clear if I am 
 smoking a pipe and drinking pale ale, the 
 signals are not likely to be strictly attended 
 to. Again, if one is kept on unnatural 
 tension for hours as some of those unhappy 
 railway employes are, it's mere human 
 
 p 2
 
 212 Three Years. 
 
 nature their giving ^Yay at last, and as the 
 Americans would say, ' Letting things 
 
 slide.' " 
 
 " Talking of railway accidents," said 
 Lyttlereck, '* I can tell you a quaint story- 
 It's an illustration of what a badly educated 
 ' bad lot ' thought of his right to exist, and 
 also affords a curious insight into a betting 
 man's religion. I was travelling down 
 north two or three years ago, and a more 
 incono-ruous lot never took their seats at 
 
 o 
 
 King's Cross. There was the Bishop of 
 
 ; four well-known members of the 
 
 betting-ring, and myself. As soon as we 
 started, the turfites, ever anxious, like the 
 busy bee, * to improve each shining hour,' 
 wliipped up one of the cushions to form a 
 taljle, produced a pack of cards, and plunged 
 licavily into whist. I was leaning over 
 interested in their game — the Bishop was 
 immersed in a book. 
 
 " ' That's a treble,' cried one of them. 
 ' Lay you the odds in fives. Bill ?' when 
 crash ! a confused sensation of toppling over 
 somctliing, and we were all in a heap in 
 the l>()ttom (if the carriage. We were 
 going something like forty miles an hour.
 
 A Smoldng-room Revel. 213 
 
 and bad run into a broken-down coal 
 train. 
 
 " Of course all was confusion, a good 
 many people being seriously hurt ; but 
 when we had scrambled out and shook 
 ourselves, it turned out that nobody in 
 our compartment was damaged more than 
 being slightly cut or bruised. 
 
 " One of these betting men had his head 
 rather cut ; he was moreover a good deal 
 shook and frightened, and at that moment 
 became conscious of the utter absence of 
 all good in him — what a confounded vil- 
 lain he was, and how had he met his just 
 deserts, he ought to have been killed. 
 
 " Taking off his hat and mopping his 
 bleeding scalp with his pocket handker- 
 chief, he went up to his lordship and thus 
 addressed him : ' Well, sir, I suppose we 
 may thank your being in the carriage for 
 our fortunate escape ?' 
 
 " In vain the Bishop suggested thanks 
 were due to Providence. My turf friend 
 walked sceptically away, and I have no 
 doubt on a similar occasion will always 
 follow a bishop and bet odds on the safety 
 of the arrangement."
 
 214 Tliree Years. 
 
 " I can't make out that riddle of Miss 
 Clippingtou's at all," said Puzzleton, who 
 had beeu in a brown study during the 
 whole of Tom's story. 
 
 "Ob, something to do with the boot," 
 broke in Torn. " Ah, Puzzleton, how I 
 envy you that power of concentration. 
 It's the grand secret of success. Don't 
 talk to me of talent — don't talk to me of 
 luck, opportunities, &c. I'll back dogged 
 concentration to beat them all in the long 
 run. Look at Puzzleton there, while we 
 are idly chaffing, his whole mind is con- 
 centrated on a conundrum. There never 
 was a great man who did not possess that 
 power — Xewton was a wonderful example. 
 Every really great man has possessed it 
 more or less, and in exact proportion to 
 his possession of that faculty has he been 
 more or less great. Where it exists in its 
 higliest phase, it is accompanied by the 
 power of entirely divesting the mind of 
 the subject in hand at will. Charlie there, 
 tor exanij)lc, has his Derby book eternally 
 running in his head, whatever he may be 
 engaged in. Tlie Duke of Wellington 
 cuuld (line and sleep dismissing the fate of
 
 A Smoking -room Bevel. 215 
 
 tlie Peninsula utterly fi'om his tliouglits. 
 So history tells us could Alexander — " 
 
 "That'll do, Tom. Never mind the 
 Ancients. Besides, we all know Alexander 
 took his liquor freely — an easy way of dis- 
 missing most things from his mind. When 
 I've had ray bottle of ' Forty-four,' it's 
 little my Derby book troubles me." 
 
 " And why, Mr. Lyttlereck, shouldn't I 
 concentrate my faculties on a conun- 
 drum ?" inquired Puzzleton, rather net- 
 tled. 
 
 " Rude in the first place," retorted Tom, 
 "because you ought to have been, or 
 affected to have been, intensely interested 
 in my little anecdote Foolish in the 
 second, because you wasted that valuable 
 power on a frivolous object." 
 
 " I don't see it at all," rejoined Puzzle- 
 ton, getting really very angry. " Eiddles 
 are a source of amusement to me, and I 
 suppose I may employ those powers of 
 concentration, you are kind enough to 
 attribute to me, to their elucidation if it 
 suits me ?" 
 
 The little man was getting on his stilts, 
 his custom when annoyed.
 
 216 Three Years. 
 
 " Quite right," said Leclimere. " Xever 
 mind Tom and liis eccentric theories. 
 We'll all have a shy at the riddle im- 
 mediately, and scorn the idea of bed till 
 it's solved. Help yourself, Tom. Forbes, 
 there's another cigar on the mantel-piece." 
 
 "Thanks," replied Forbes. "I don't 
 know that it is quite a case in point, and 
 Tom must forgive my rather throwing 
 chaff at his heroics ; but there was a case 
 decided last week — a real good chancery 
 suit that had run some years. An ac- 
 quaintance of mine was one of the in- 
 terested people. It was a dispute about 
 succession to an estate. My friend being 
 poor, and thirsting for the fleshpots, con- 
 centrated all his energies on this suit. 
 By dint of harrpng lawyers, and spending 
 what little capital he had, he eventually 
 got a decision, and in his favour, too. 
 Now, what do you think he came into ? 
 The estate was not large, and the legal 
 expenses had been enormous. There, Mr. 
 Puzzleton, is a riddle for you." 
 
 " Kli ? what was it ? Would you mind 
 just putting it again ?" 
 
 " Well, said Charlie, "you legal practi-
 
 A Smoking-room Revel. 217 
 
 tioners are reputed to skin your victims 
 pretty clean ? Shall we say the house, 
 minus garden, out-houses, furniture and 
 land ?" 
 
 "Not a bad shot," replied Forbes. " It 
 was a house, and with precious little land 
 attached. He found he had at last suc- 
 ceeded to ike family vault r 
 
 " God bless me !" said Tom. " What a 
 very awkward place for a house-warming. 
 Didn't ask you, Frank, to spend a few 
 days with him, did he, at his little place 
 in the country ?" 
 
 " Well," observed Charlie, " that's 
 curious. Would it come under the head 
 of suicide if you qualified to take imme- 
 diate possession ? I suppose," he con- 
 tinued, meditatively, " it doesn't give him 
 a vote for the countv, does it ?" 
 
 Considerable lauo^hter and chaff followed 
 Frank Forbes's anecdote. The Professor 
 was still grappling with it in the light of 
 an elaborate conundrum. Having, through 
 the commingling of spirits and water, so 
 common in well-regulated smoking-rooms, 
 rather confused a head totally unaccus- 
 tomed to stimulants ; he had now reduced
 
 213 Three Years. 
 
 the two (that is, riddle and narrative,) to 
 a common denominator, and might be 
 heard lowly muttering, " Why is a Prime 
 Minister like a family vault ?" 
 
 "Ah!" said Tom, "you fellows have 
 burlesqued my lecture on concentration 
 before it was well begun. It's your loss, 
 scoffers that you are !" 
 
 " That's a curious marriage of Belle 
 Brabazon's," said Lechmere ; " the last 
 srirl in the world whom I should have ex- 
 pected to see marry a man like Bartley. 
 I should have thought she would have 
 flown at liigher game." 
 
 " liiirher o-ame," sneered Charlie. " He's 
 supposed to be worth ten or twelve thou- 
 sand a-year, and. money rules the matri- 
 monial market. 
 
 " ' Virtues arc lost in interest, as rivers in the sea.' 
 
 Why don't you read your Rochefoucault, 
 Lechmere?" 
 
 " Vuu arc very hard on Belle," ex- 
 chiimed Jack Travers. " I didn't know her 
 near as well as you did, Charlie, but 
 tliouglit slie was as nice a girl as ever I 
 met. Must say I'm rather surprised at
 
 A Smohing-room Revel. 219 
 
 lier marrjiug Bartley, though. However, 
 they all do it when they can, I suppose," 
 and overpowered by the depth of this 
 conjecture, Jack puffed vigorously at his 
 cigar, and lapsed into silence. 
 
 Charlie Repton's feelings on the subject 
 were those of a much ao-OTieved man, 
 though upon what grounds it would have 
 rather puzzled him to declare. He had 
 been a favoured admirer of Miss Brabazon's 
 for two seasons. He had often thought 
 that he had never cared about any woman 
 to the extent he did about her. He fancied 
 she rather liked him. He had had hazy 
 ideas of marrying Belle and settling down 
 quietly. The idea of her marrying any 
 one else had never crossed his imaoination. 
 He was an idle, indolent man, and rather 
 shrank fi^om gi\Ting up his clubs, his cheery 
 bachelor life, &c. Belle's fortune was not 
 much, and though Charlie had a very 
 handsome allowance, it would have been a 
 small income to set up housekeeping on, 
 and would have left him a poor man till 
 his father's death. With the amiable weak- 
 ness of making love to every pretty wo- 
 man he came across, Charlie had drifted
 
 220 TJiree Years. 
 
 leisurely along till the news of Belle 
 Brabazon's marriage had aroused him to 
 the foct, that he reallv had been far more 
 in earnest than in any other of his numer- 
 ous flirtations. 
 
 "Well," said Lechmere, "one can't 
 marry without something to live upon ; 
 that, I suppose, we may lay down as an 
 axiom. That it's woman's mission to 
 marry, I suppose we may lay down as 
 another. Ergo, Miss Brabazon's marriage 
 is quite in accordance with the laws of 
 nature and society. ' Quod erat demon- 
 strandum.'' Eh, Puzzletou, isn't it grati- 
 fying to see the results of an University 
 education ?" 
 
 " Thank you, no more — no, I don't 
 smoke," jerked out Puzzleton, rousing 
 himself from the state of coma to which 
 unaccustomed liquids and hours, together 
 with an unsolved conumdrum, had reduced 
 him. 
 
 "Tell you what, Professor, you had 
 better be off to roost. Here's a candle ; 
 you know your way." 
 
 "Oil, yes — all right. I wish I could 
 make out wliy a family vault is like a —
 
 A Smol'ing-room Revel. 221 
 
 wliat is it ? Oh — ah, yes ; I know, Prime 
 Minister. Good nio'ht ;" and with a sHgj'ht 
 ripple in his speech, a moistness in his 
 spectacles, and a turmoil in his brain, the 
 Professor departed. 
 
 " Tell you what, Lechmere," said Charlie, 
 as the door closed ; " you mustn't mix the 
 Professor's conundrums so strong. I'll 
 look him out some easy ones to-morrow, 
 ' When is a door not a door ?' and such 
 like. Congratulate you on quite establish- 
 ing Miss Brabazon's case. There is no 
 doubt, as you put it, that she married the 
 right man. By the way, Tom, do you 
 recollect another aphorism of my pet 
 author ? ' Lovers are never weary of one 
 another, because they are always talking 
 of themselves.' How entertaining Bartley 
 must be on himself. I never heard him 
 speak about anything; but we're all diffuse 
 on that subject. Should think Belle will 
 have a month's pure enjoyment any 
 way." 
 
 He could not help harping on the mar- 
 riage and sneering, though no one knew 
 better than himself how unjustly. 
 
 Tom Lyttlereck's eyes were rather
 
 222 Three Years. 
 
 opened ; he hnd long fancied Charlie more 
 seriously involved than usual in his flirta- 
 tion with Miss Brabazon, and he could 
 detect a bitterness in his tone now that 
 confirmed him in his belief. 
 
 " Charlie, you are very hard on an old 
 friend. When a man after a good day's 
 shooting talks Rochefoucault and cynicism 
 over his liquor, it's a sure sign his liver is 
 all wrong." 
 
 "My dear fellow, I know you hold a 
 brief in behalf of all the flirts that ever 
 existed, from Ninon de I'Enclos down- 
 wards. You've interested motives, man, 
 and are enlisted under the banner of the 
 invader." 
 
 " Bosh !" said Tom, angrily. " Hang 
 it ! take one text from your favourite : 
 ' A man of sense finds less difficulty in 
 suljmitting: to a wronjr-headed follow than 
 in attempting to set him right.' " 
 
 " Yes, I always thought a good deal of 
 that quotation," replied Charlie, with the 
 utmost imperturbabiUty. "You entrench 
 yourself strongly under cover of a great 
 ii.nne. You see, you assume at once you 
 are a scnsiljlc fellow, and you're addressing
 
 A Smoking-room Revel. 223 
 
 a fool. Yes, it's neat, and leaves you 
 quite on the high ground." 
 
 " To the devil with your philosophy !" 
 said Travers. " I'm sick of hearing you 
 fellows hurl epigrammatic sentences at each 
 other's heads. You're talking as if you 
 were professors of a subject on which 
 we are all children, and shall remain so, 
 until we're soldered down. Well, Lech- 
 mere, were you satisfied with the success 
 of the theatricals ?" 
 
 " Yes, I think they went off very well. 
 "Wasn't the governor good as Sir Peter?" 
 
 " Capital ! He and Laura Clippington 
 were the stars of the evening. They 
 brouo-ht the house down two or three 
 times." 
 
 At this juncture the door opened. Pallid 
 as the " Death of the Revelations," and 
 with spectacles drawn back, appeared 
 Puzzleton. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! Pm so glad. Beg pardon, 
 Lechmere, but I think I lost my way, 
 and I don't know, but I think I've been 
 asleep somewhere; and I've been all 
 round the house, and can't find my room.
 
 224 Three Years. 
 
 It's very stupid ; but will you put me 
 straight ?" 
 
 " All right, old fellow. Here, light the 
 candles, some of you, while 1 turn off the 
 chandelier. It's time we all turned in, or 
 there will be ' occult influences' favouring 
 the pheasants to-morrow. Come along, 
 and we'll escort the Professor home."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " THE captain" wanted. 
 
 "Beat, by G — !" and the exclamation 
 came savagely from the man's lips, as after 
 perusing his morning letters he nearly bit 
 his pipe in two over one of them. 
 
 " They won't renew, I expected as 
 much. I suppose they know as well as I 
 do that the game's nearly up. Everything 
 dead against one. Not ' a pull' that I can 
 see likely to come anywhere, and a Derby 
 book which makes one sick to think of. 
 Well, this is a quiet and retired situation. 
 I wonder how many days it will take the 
 sharks to hit it off. ' Leave' — yes. I sup- 
 pose I've a week in hand. Be that I 
 should think before the ban dogs of the 
 law are on my trail. A trip to Paris is 
 the best thing I can think of. I'll write 
 an application at once. I can't see what's 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 220 Three Years. 
 
 to turn up ; but wlieu things look des- 
 perate there's nothing hke ' a cut at the 
 off chance,' it's pulled me through once 
 or twice in ray time," and Delpre smiled 
 grimly as he thought how, when over head 
 and cars out of his depth, he had still 
 ]ilayed on as if he had had the Bank of Eng- 
 land at his back, and recovered himself. 
 
 I'hings in fiict had been going extremely 
 hard with the Captain of late. His specu- 
 lations ffcnerallv had been of a most un- 
 satisfactory nature, and the Moretown 
 Steeple-chase had not tended to smooth 
 the troubled waters of his life, while, as 
 he would have expressed it, ' the cards in 
 his hand' i.e. the bets on future events 
 were as bad as they could be. Duns on 
 every side were pouring in. I don't think 
 tlicy much affected this easy moralist ; but 
 you must settle at Tattersall's, and when 
 holders of bills at three months won't 
 renew, they must be met or the holders 
 tlicrcof are apt to show scant courtesy. 
 
 lie was no longer quartered at Milton, 
 but was now commanding a detachment 
 Btationcd at a small country town some 
 eighty miles from thence. The troops were
 
 cc 
 
 The Captain" Wanted. 227 
 
 quartered in an old castle, surrounded by 
 a fosse crossed by a slightly decrepid 
 drawbridge, wMcli was occasionally raised 
 more to see if it was practicable to do so, 
 than for any other reason. 
 
 The castle had been a place of strength 
 in its day. A day in which imperfect six- 
 pounders were looked upon as formidable 
 breaching guns, and like all old castles 
 one ever saw, had of course sustained a 
 formidable siege in the time of Cromwell. 
 Judoiuar from tradition, those old Puritans 
 must have enjoyed knocking their heads 
 against stone walls, as much as their des- 
 cendants of the present day do against 
 religious polemics. 
 
 If anybody ever made his mark on the 
 United Kingdom in letters of fire, it w^as 
 Cromwell. He knew that you cannot 
 make war any more than you can ome- 
 lettes without breaking eggs. I should 
 rather like to have seen him put down 
 the Jamaica insurrection, and settle with 
 Exeter Hall afterwards ; though in his 
 days they would hardly have ventured to 
 crow so loud. A good healthy despotism 
 has its advantages, it stops a deal of cant. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 Three Years. 
 
 One of our greatest writers has called this 
 " the age of shams," and of a surety it 
 savours much of the Lowther Arcade. It 
 might al^^o be called the age of cant. 
 " Uncle Tom" never existed except in 
 print, and I fancy a white community are 
 justified in hanging " the oppressed Afri- 
 can" even though he profess the Christian 
 religion, when that doubtless pious and 
 well-meanino- iudividual bei^ins to lio-hten 
 his heart by perpetuating a wholesale mas- 
 sacre. It's charming, my philanthropic 
 friends, to meet in England and moan over 
 our poor black brethren ; but wait till you 
 have had to do Avith that heavenly-minded 
 savage, when things are not going quite to 
 his liking. Men Avho ever had much dealing 
 with either African or Asiatic, all know the 
 immense importance when it comes to 
 a struggle for supremacy between the two 
 races of " establishing a funk," I will only 
 say it is not done by talking. 
 
 Hut the subject of the "oppressed Afri- 
 can" has drawn me into an unwarrantable 
 digression, more especially so as I cannot 
 fancy Deljire feeling the slightest degree 
 interested in the sul)ject. Had it arisen
 
 (C 
 
 The CajJtain' Wanted. 229 
 
 in his day, I think he would have been 
 rather the man for the exigency, and very 
 Cromwelhan, (if I may be allowed the 
 word), in his treatment of it. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, " leave's the 
 thing. Paris and a shy at the ' Rouge et 
 Noir.' It might turn up trumps, and 
 things can't be much worse than they are. 
 There's The Dancing Master, lame too, 
 and wouldn't fetch sixty sovereigns though 
 he's honestly worth a couple of hundred." 
 
 It is curious the way different men take 
 their difficulties in this world, I am speak- 
 ing more particularly of pecuniary em- 
 barrassments. The slightest involvement 
 of that kind will destroy some men's rest, 
 and literally unfit them for their accus- 
 tomed avocations, others live in a state of 
 chronic embarrassment. It no more affects 
 them than a shower of rain, they live in 
 an atmosphere of writs, protested bills, 
 and attorney's letters. One large specu- 
 lator I could mention, never pays anybody 
 till legal proceedings are taken against 
 him. He is in a large way of business, 
 but cannot believe in any one being really 
 in earnest about wanting his money till he
 
 230 Three Years. 
 
 receives an attorney's letter on the subject. 
 I should fancy a writ troubles that man no 
 more than an invitation to dinner. 
 
 Delpre was a hardened offender in this 
 wav, lie had lived in his day more or less 
 on paper, and tliough the uninitiated may 
 think a l)ill at three months the im- 
 mediate precursor of " gone to tlie dogs," 
 I have known men last years on what 
 must be called the most precarious in- 
 come. Ruin certainly is apt to come at 
 last; but it's wonderful how long some 
 of them prolong their death agony. 
 
 Delprc's musings were here interrupted 
 by his servant. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir, but here's a person 
 wants to see you." 
 
 " What the deuce do you mean by a 
 person. Ts it a man or a woman, a gentle- 
 iiiMTi oi' a horse-dealer, a dun or the 
 devil?" inquired Delprd. 
 
 " Don't know, sir, he looks a bit like 
 horses, said it was all right, you'd see him 
 fast enough soon as I'd * give you the 
 olUce.' " 
 
 "All right, show him uj), Tom, and let's 
 see what he's made of"
 
 cc 
 
 The Captain' Wanted. 231 
 
 Tom disappeared, and in another 
 minute usliered into the apartment a sleek 
 well-shaven man, with tightish trousers 
 and a very shiny hat. Putting his hat on 
 the floor, and extracting a cotton ban- 
 danna from the crown thereof, the sleek 
 man mopped his brow and remarked " Ser- 
 vice, Cap ting." 
 
 " Well, what's your news — who sent you 
 here ? never saw your face before, do 
 you come from Davidson ?" broke in 
 Delpre. 
 
 " Not egsactly ; I remarked ' service' 
 Capting,' don't get angry at the joke ; but 
 here's a little bit of parchment for three- 
 fifty and costs. ' Balls and Gregson's" 
 little affair ; mere matter of form, I know, 
 says Mr. Balls to me just afore I started ; 
 so, Capting, I must just call you my pri- 
 soner for five minutes while you gets the 
 cash out of the strong box to settle," and 
 the man handed Delpre a villainous strip 
 of parchment. 
 
 As Mr. Dobbs, the gentleman in ques- 
 tion, said : "I allays goes through all the 
 forms of politeness when I've to deal with 
 a swell. It soothes his feelings to make
 
 2'^2 Three Years. 
 
 believe 3'ou think he keeps piles of bank 
 notes in his pockets, sofy-cushions or 
 portmantles, and 'as merely forgotten this 
 little affair. Course they never do settle, 
 but they tips handsum for politeness, they 
 does as a rule." 
 
 '« D it! sir," said Delpre, " did it 
 
 ever occur to you, you might be chucked 
 down the stairs you have just mounted ; 
 that there's a pump in the barracks and 
 ]ilenty of men to put j^ou under it." 
 
 " Now, now, Cap ting," said Mr. Dobbs, 
 " what good u'd that do ; you must know 
 l)etter than to rile up at your time of life, 
 tliere's no good in that, it's only the very 
 green 'uns kicks over the traces that way. 
 So let's square it at once and have done 
 with it, and if you says Dobbs, which my 
 name is, rinse your mouth out while I get 
 tlio blunt out of the little top drawer 
 where T keeps it along with the diamonds 
 and other jewellery, why it's more like 
 wliat I'd ox])ect from a real gentleman 
 like yourself." 
 
 Delpre rticovered his temper and pre- 
 sence ofiniiiil in a second. 
 
 " All right," ho said, laughing. " You
 
 l( 
 
 The Captain'' Wanted. 233 
 
 shall have somethiDg to wet your wlaistle 
 with in a moment, Dobbs ; but supposing 
 the little top drawer isn't quite so full now 
 as it ought to be." 
 
 *' Sorry for it, Captiug ; but you know 
 there's only one alternative. You'll have 
 to come alonof with me." 
 
 "Then I'm afraid, my friend, that'll be 
 about the size of it; however, you shall 
 have something to drink while I dress. 
 I can't start in a smoking-jacket and 
 shppers, and must have a few things put 
 up in a portmanteau." 
 
 "Very good, sir, anything in reason; 
 I'm sure I don't want to interfere with a 
 gentleman more than I'm obliged. 'Sure 
 you, Capting, I've quite a name in the pro- 
 fession for doino- the correct thing:. When 
 they wants things made easy, they allays 
 says, send for Dobbs, he hasn't his ekal 
 at making a genteel caption ; in fact the 
 ladies, widows as has gone a bit too fast, 
 and such like, is quite my line." 
 
 " All right," said Delpre laughing, "and 
 now I must holloa for my servant." 
 
 "'Sense me," said the cautious Dobbs, 
 stepping quickly between Delpre and the
 
 234 Three Years. 
 
 door, "I'll do that; nice j^oung man, he 
 is very. What name shall I say ?" 
 "Call Tom." 
 
 And Tom, tlie bailiff roared in sonorous 
 tones down the passage. That servitor 
 quickly appeared ; he was a sharpish ser- 
 vant, but had at present no inkling of 
 the case. He was accustomed, as before 
 said, to see his master receive all sorts 
 of strange visitors, and the present one's 
 vocation had not entered his head, or he 
 never would have reached Delpre's apart- 
 ment — for the Britisli soldier is intuitively 
 inimical to the species, and right or wrong 
 will stand by his own officers. 
 
 "What will you have, Dobbs; brandy 
 and water, eh ?" 
 
 Tliat worthy expressed his opinion, that 
 "tliat was as wholesome a beverage as he 
 knowed on," and Tom was accordingly 
 ordered to produce it. 
 
 *' Now, Tom," continued Delprc, " come 
 ill licic, I want you to pack up a few 
 things as 1 am going away to-night — " 
 
 *' Beg parding, Capting," said Dobbs, 
 "but I should like to look at that room." 
 
 Tom stared ; but Dobbs followed them
 
 " The Captain' Wanted. 235 
 
 into the inner room which formed Delpre's 
 sleeping apartment. A glance convinced 
 him it had no other exit, and another at 
 the window showed it was a good twenty 
 feet from the ground. 
 
 " All right, Capting, I'll just have a 
 little brandy and water, and a draw of 
 a pipe if you don't object, while you rig 
 yourself out. You'll 'sense my looking 
 in, but business is business you know." 
 
 " Quite right ; lay those shirts out on the 
 bed, Tom," and Delpre followed the bailiff 
 back into the sitting-room. " Here's some 
 baccy I think you'll find not badj help 
 yourself, I won't be twenty minutes." 
 
 "All right, I shall do very well. Don't 
 you hurry, I hate flustering a gentleman, 
 there's plenty of time. No use being 
 anxious to 'get in', is there?" and Mr. 
 Dobbs chuckled. 
 
 Delpre turned back into the bed-room, 
 as he entered it he looked meaningly at 
 his servant and laid his finger on his lip, 
 then jerking his head in the direction of 
 the sitting-room he whispered "bailiff," 
 pointing to the window he muttered " lad- 
 der ;" then raising his voice, he said :
 
 236 Thire Years. 
 
 " Why, tliose are not the boots I want. 
 You took them down tliis morning to 
 clean. Run "and get tliein and look sharp," 
 Tom gave his master an intelligent grin 
 and vanished. 
 
 Delpre having put on some boots, again 
 lounged into the sitting-room and hoped 
 Mr. Dobbs was comfortable, crossed to 
 a chest of drawers and unlocking one took 
 out some gold and notes. 
 
 " Not quite enough for ' Ball and Greg- 
 son,' " said the Captain, pleasantly, " but 
 it may oil the wheels of life for you and me, 
 Dobbs ; here's a couple of sovereigns just 
 to cover incidental expenses as we go 
 
 along." 
 
 " Tliaukee, Capting, I knowed you were 
 quite tlie gentleman from the first." 
 
 Delpre lounged back again into the 
 bed-room whistling a popular melody, 
 placed a liglit overcoat on the bed, filled 
 a cigar-case, washed his hands with a 
 good (leal of ostentatious noise, lit a cigar 
 and strolled back to the sitting-room in 
 his shirt sleeves. 
 
 ** Come, Dobbs, my friend, have another 
 glass of brandy, it's no use leaving temp-
 
 " The Captain'' Wanted. 237 
 
 tation in the way of servants, so don't 
 spare it. I may be a few clays before I'm 
 back, you know. Tlie greatest capitalists 
 can't raise money at times. I think I'll 
 have a glass myself," and as he spoke, 
 he mixed a stiff glass of brandy and 
 water and pushed the bottle across 
 to Dobbs. That gentleman, nothing 
 loath, replenished his glass immediately ; 
 it would have taken a good deal of spirits 
 to have much effect on his seasoned 
 head. 
 
 " You're quite right, Capting. Lord ! 
 nobody ought to know more about the 
 difficulties of raising money than I do. 
 It's extraordinary the number of gentle- 
 men that travels home along with me. 
 It's allays going to be all right with 'em 
 in a few days ; but I suppose ' that city ' 
 which they all seems to look to for ' the 
 blunt ' don't part none so easy — leastways, 
 when they're down in their luck and talks 
 of commoonicating with their friends, I 
 finds they comes out quicker than when 
 they talks chirpy-like and of getting the 
 dibs from the city. Means no offence, 
 Capting, but if you've any friends who'll
 
 238 Three Tears. 
 
 stump, don't you muddle your brains about 
 the city." 
 
 " Quite right, Dobbs ; and as Timbuc- 
 too Railway Shares are rather at a dis- 
 count just now, I'll follow your advice," 
 and he again turned into the bed-room. 
 
 As he did so, a slight grating noise 
 under the window caught his ear. Stamp- 
 ing violently on the floor, he loudly anathe- 
 matized his boots. " Curse the things ! I 
 can't go in these — they'll cut my feet to 
 ribbons. Where the deuce is the boot- 
 jack? Do you see it there, Dobbs ?" and 
 he ao^ain looked into the sittino--room. 
 *' Oh, all right, here it is," and he dis- 
 appeared back again. To throw an over- 
 coat out of the window to his servant 
 below ; to slip on a hat and morning 
 coat, still whistling all the time, M'as the 
 work of an instant; then stepi)ing over the 
 sill of the window, ho rapidly descended 
 the ladder placed against it. 
 
 " Take the ladder away, quick, Tom !" 
 said Dolpre, as he arrived at the bottom. 
 " No maltreatment of the bailiff, mind ! 
 I've done him this time. Send the port- 
 manteau to Captain Smith, Dimmer's
 
 " The Cajitain" Wanted. 239 
 
 Hotel, Conduit Street, by the niglit mail. 
 Express goes at 2.30, don't it ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; all right about the portman- 
 teau." 
 
 " That'll do, leave that bailiff alone, 
 mind — he's going to spend two or three 
 hours with jou," and Delpre walked 
 across the little barrack square laughing. 
 
 On arriving at the guard-house, situated 
 at the fort extremity of the drawbridge, 
 Delpre shouted for the sergeant of the 
 guard. Looking at his watch which 
 pointed to half-past one, as that func- 
 tionary made his appearance, he said : 
 
 " Tumble out your men, sergeant, to 
 raise the bridge, and look sharp." 
 
 " Yes, sir. Guard, turn out to raise the 
 bridge." 
 
 They were pretty smart, still it took a 
 minute or two. 
 
 " All ready ?" inquired Delpre. 
 
 " All ready, sir," was the response. 
 
 "Good — then the moment I have 
 crossed, raise the bridge, and mind it's not 
 to be lowered for man, woman, or child to 
 come either in or go out till three o'clock, 
 under any pretext whatever. My servant to
 
 2-10 Three Years. 
 
 have a pass from then till midnight. You 
 understand ?" 
 
 " Perfectly, sir." 
 
 " Good. Sharp with it then the moment 
 I'm across," and Delprc walked rapidly 
 over the bridge. 
 
 We must return now to our friend Mr. 
 Dobbs, whom we left smoking his pipe 
 and sipping his brandy and water. It 
 was a soothing process, and for two or 
 three minutes he smoked dreamily on ; 
 but the portentous silence of the inner 
 chamber soon attracted his attention, and 
 produced the hazy inquiry, for he was 
 still far from suspecting anything, of, 
 " Halloa, Captiug ! are you 'most 
 ready ?" 
 
 Not a word, not a noise, and when the 
 repetition of the above inquiry elicited 
 no response, Dobbs was on his legs and 
 wide awake in an instant. He dashed 
 into the room, rushed to the window, the 
 ladder wliicli, though removed, still lay 
 below, revealed the whole thing at a 
 glance. 
 
 "Well I'm jiggered!" said Mr. Dobbs. 
 " Holed, crabbed and bou netted ! 1 didn't
 
 a 
 
 Tlie CajJtain'' Wanted. 241 
 
 think there were a man out could have 
 done it ! Calls hisself a g-entleman, does 
 he ?" and Mr. Dobbs dashing through the 
 next room, snatched up his hat and rushed 
 down the stairs. 
 
 It was very trying for him. As he 
 oained the barrack sauare, scarce a hundred 
 yards across, Delpre had just gained the 
 far side of the fosse. Mr. Dobbs, though 
 thickish in the wind, ran his best, but as 
 he neared the bridge it began slowly to 
 rise. 
 
 "Stop! stop!" he gasped, "in the 
 name of the law I order you to stop," 
 and he dashed on to the still risino- brido:e. 
 It was all in vain — there was nothing for 
 it but to come back. 
 
 " Lower the bridgj'e this minute !" he 
 exclaimed. " I'm a sheriff's officer, and 
 that's my prisoner. Does you know what 
 you're doing of, impeding an officer in the 
 execution of his duty ?" 
 
 " Sorry," said the sergeant, grinning, 
 for by this time, thanks to Tom, the whole 
 guard had smoked the trick ; " but the 
 Captain's orders are positive. Can't lower 
 the bridge till three o'clock for anyone." 
 VOL. T. K
 
 242 TJiree Tears. 
 
 " And the express goes at two and a 
 half ! Why, he'll be half way to London 
 by that. Do you know what you're doing ? 
 You're compounding a felony. You're in- 
 terfering with the Lord Chancellor? 
 You're upsetting the Queen's prerogative ? 
 'Taint certain it's not a hanging matter. 
 Lower the bridge, I tell you, in the name 
 of the law!" 
 
 " Beg pardon, but orders are orders ; 
 the Captain's our commanding oflB.cer, and 
 he says the bridge is not to be lowered till 
 three." 
 
 " But do you know what the conse- 
 keuces '11 be ? You'll be tried, sentenced, 
 and found guilty," screamed the excited 
 Dobbs. 
 
 " Can't help it, bound to be tried for 
 disobedience of orders, and I suppose the 
 Captain '11 see us through the other." 
 
 iJelprc had stood on the far side of the 
 bridge, watching with much amusement 
 the altercation between Dobbs and his 
 sergeant. 
 
 " Bye, bye, Dobbs !" he exclaimed. 
 " You've only an hour and a half to wait. 
 A more nuthiug to a man who has soon as
 
 Si 
 
 The Captain'' Wanted. 243 
 
 much of detention as you have. You'll 
 find a fairish Fives Court, and any of them 
 will show you the way to the canteen. As 
 you said yourself, ' I've seen many gentle- 
 men disappointed about coming out,' 
 though an old hand like you should have 
 known better. Stick to your text, ' write 
 to your friends at once, and don't trust to 
 anything turning up in the City,' " with 
 which, Delpre turned on his heel and 
 walked leisurely off to the railway sta- 
 tion. 
 
 Dobbs's face was a picture ; his man 
 had evidently slipped him, and he was 
 undoubtedly there till three. 
 
 " Done," he said, " brown ; broiled 
 mushrooms ain't a circumstance to it. 
 This here's a pretty go to happen to a 
 man as is reckoned about the top of his 
 perfession. ' Mind your eye, Dobbs,' says 
 Mr. Balls to me just afore I started; ' the 
 Capting's a very wide awake 'un.' ' Trust 
 me, Mr. Balls,' sais I ; ' never fear. He 
 ain't a going to pull the wool over my eyes 
 Avith all my experience,' and here I am. 
 Took it so free and easy, too. Well, if 
 ever the double was fairly put on Bill 
 
 R 2
 
 244 TJoree Years. 
 
 Dobbs since be first served a writ, it's 
 done tbis bere arternoon. Smartisb man, 
 tbe Capting, eb, sergeant ? Well, as tbe 
 good books say, ' it's no use a never re- 
 pining,' tboLigb bow Bill Dobbs is to face 
 tbe talent of Cursitor Street, in wbicb be's 
 l)een an oracle tbese many years, after tbis 
 bere, bcks me entirely. Howsomever, if 
 tbere's any one bere '11 play skittles, I'm 
 on, and '11 stand a gallon of beer into tbe 
 bargain." 
 
 Tbe grinning soldiers applauded Mr. 
 Dobbs's sentiments. Tbey were cbuckling 
 immensely over tbe way in wbicb tbe 
 bailiff bad been done ; and, moreover, 
 wbat Britisb soldier could witbstand tbe 
 cliarm of unlimited beer, garnisbed by un- 
 limited skittles? In tbis, as far as con- 
 cerned gratuitous beer, tbey were destined 
 to be deceived ratber, for Mr. Dobbs 
 ])r()vcd bimself a miglity professor of tbe 
 game, *' taking floors" and dropping single 
 ones in a manner tbat ratber astonisbed 
 the military. 
 
 Delprc lounged leisurely to tbe station, 
 and (lc|)arted by tbe express for town ; 
 tulcgraphc'd for leave, and crossed to tbe
 
 " The Captain'' Wanted. 245 
 
 Continent, pending his arrangements for 
 selling out, and the Gazette about a month 
 afterwards reported him as no longer be- 
 longing to Her Majesty's Service. 
 
 Dobbs, over his evening pipe, still re- 
 lates how the Captain " diddled him," as 
 he expresses it, and " such a civil spoken 
 'un, too ; why, he just sucked me in like 
 a baby, he did."
 
 CHAPTER XTI. 
 
 THE PARK. 
 
 It is the heioflit of the London season. 
 Tlie weather is behaving in a way that the 
 most devoted Londoner cannot but admit 
 to be disgracefuh Still " the Row" is 
 crowded, and the carriages on the other 
 side move in endless procession. All the 
 world is in town, those whom everybody 
 knows, and those who know everybody; 
 those whom nobody knows, and who look 
 less likely than ever, ever to know any- 
 l)ody. You know the class I mean. Men 
 chiefly who get themselves up regardless 
 of expense, are always seen walking by 
 themselves, to whom nobody bows, and 
 wlio have a general expression of having 
 lost something. They " do the Park," 
 l)ecause they think it right; but would 
 iidiuilely prefer the Edgware Road in a
 
 The Park 247 
 
 shooting jacket. Helots of fashion, whom 
 fashion regards not ; but they have their 
 end, and make great custom for the glove- 
 makers and bouquetieres. The Park to 
 them consists of "new kids," and a flower 
 in their button -holes. 
 
 There are those rolling in wealth and 
 those rolling in debt, the latter infinitely 
 the best dressed of the two. It's a mere 
 matter of calculation, and the latter know 
 well what the consequences of a bad hat 
 might be to them. Credit is a great insti- 
 tution, and the less you have of it the 
 more tenderly it must be treated ; then, if 
 ever, is the time to be solicitous about 
 appearances. In old times one had no 
 belief in a country banker who had not a 
 good house, and a solid-looking carriage 
 with heavy horses and harness. We have 
 changed all that, and now affect joint 
 stock companies ; but alas ! they are none 
 the safer. 
 
 " There's a turn in the wheel yet," as a 
 friend of mine once remarked. " It's never 
 all over till after the Derby," and the day 
 of which I am writing is the Monday 
 before Epsom.
 
 248 Three Tears. 
 
 I am speaking, too, of days gone by, 
 when " morning parks" were not so niucli 
 in vogue ; wlien, as Lamb would say, " we 
 laid in bed and digested our dreams ;" 
 wlien we smoked furtively, and moustacLes 
 stamped you either a dragoon or a card- 
 sharper. Moustaches are not the faintest 
 clue to a man's occupation now-a-days, 
 and " the Row" steams with tobacco like 
 a Turkish divan. Still, even in those davs 
 energetic people rode in the morning and 
 were amply repaid for the effort. As Charlie 
 Kepton said, " It ought to be good for 
 one, it's so devilish unpleasant." 
 
 The remark was made in the days of his 
 devotion to Belle Brabazon, though, I 
 need scarcely observe, not to that young 
 lady. 
 
 I always think the Park is a curious 
 matter of speculation on that eventful 
 Monday. I wonder sometimes where some 
 of my friends will be that day week. Men 
 whose ability you perhaps doubt to weather 
 the Kpsoni hurricane, are there again, 
 smiling as ever ; while others, whom you 
 never suspected of speculating, you hear 
 have been overwhelmed, and for a time
 
 The Park. 249 
 
 England knows them no more. In the fierce 
 rush of the London stream, few mark 
 where the swimmer goes down. It is not 
 many who make splash enough to call 
 general attention thereto. The current 
 remark in the Park on that day was, 
 " What horrid weather !" and "What are 
 they doing at Tattersall's ?" 
 
 With their hats jammed well down on 
 th^ir heads, Charlie Hepton and Travers 
 made their way through the throng. 
 Charlie's hat went off a good many times 
 in their progress, for his fair acquaintances 
 were numerous, and produced the most 
 plaintive moans thereon from that injured 
 innocent. 
 
 " On my honour, Jack, women ought 
 not to expect one to bow such infernal 
 weather. They don't know the trouble it 
 takes, jamming one's hat on again a windy 
 day like this. It's enough to cut one in 
 two." 
 
 " By Jove ! Charlie, look here; do you 
 see who's coming?" and Travers called 
 his attention to a low pony-phaeton, drawn 
 by a pair of extremely handsome ponies, 
 which, driven by a lady, was proceeding
 
 250 Three Years. 
 
 at a foot's pace next the rails. The 
 driver, a very fashionably dressed and 
 extremely handsome woman, was evident- 
 ly well known, and bent her graceful 
 head in reply to the many raised hats 
 that greeted her progress. More than 
 once she stopped to exchange a few words 
 with one or another of her acquain- 
 tances. 
 
 " Oh, yes — Belle. I heard she was bjick. 
 I must find out where they're located, and 
 drop a card," said Charlie, carelessly; but 
 for all that his quick eye had caught sight 
 of the low carriage and its driver half a 
 minute before Travers spoke, and he 
 knew perfectly well what house Bartley 
 had taken for the season. 
 
 As they raised their hats, Charlie felt 
 his arm suddenly gripped as Travers mut- 
 tered : " Stop and speak ; I'll tell you why 
 afterwards." 
 
 Thus adjured, Charlie slipped through 
 the rails, and the fair charioteer smiled a 
 welcome to him. 
 
 " IIow do you do, Mrs. Bartley ? De- 
 lighted to see you back again. I suppose 
 1 ought to congratulate you, though it's
 
 The Park. 251 
 
 rather late ; but I've not had an oppor- 
 tunity of doing so before." 
 
 " On my marriage ?" said Belle. 
 ** Thanks;" and her eye flashed. She 
 felt that it was almost sneering at her 
 sacrifice that he should dare to consTratu- 
 late her on it. " I hope you will come and 
 see us now that we are settled for the 
 season. How do you do, Mr. Travers ?" 
 
 The reason of Jack's anxiety to stop the 
 carriage was not to congratulate Mrs. 
 Bartlev on her marriao;e, but she had a 
 companion with her, and Jack had sud- 
 denly recognised in the heavy masses of 
 brown hair that the little bonnet vainly 
 attempted to cover, and in the sunny 
 smile, "the Lady of King's Cross." 
 
 A saucy little nod recognised Jack, as 
 he approached the carriage and expressed 
 his delight at seeing her in town. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Travers," she said, "you 
 were quite a prophet. I shall be afraid to 
 talk to you in future ; you're quite gifted 
 with second sio;ht." 
 
 " Delighted to hear I possess such gifts," 
 said Jack ; "but may I ask in what way 
 my predictions have been realized ?"
 
 252 Three Years. 
 
 " You know when we met, you said I 
 should have quite my own way with my 
 uncle and aunts, where I was going, you 
 know. It's very odd, but I did;" and 
 Breezie broke out into the merriest of 
 laughs imaginable. 
 
 " I can't say I take much credit for my 
 predictions on that point. Are you in 
 town for long ?" 
 
 "Well, I don't know ; at present Mrs. 
 Bartley is taking care of me, and she never 
 allows me to have my own way." 
 
 You little story-teller," retorted Belle. 
 
 I'm sure you tyrannize over the whole 
 establishment. Well, I must not stop the 
 string any longer. I shall expect you 
 both tb pay your devoirs in Grosvenor 
 Square. Good-bye," and the carriage 
 moved on. 
 
 " Why, Breezie !" exclaimed Mrs, Bart- 
 ley. " Where on earth did you meet Mr. 
 Travers ? I thought you didn't know a 
 soul in London." 
 
 " I don't think I do many ; but Mr. 
 Travers is my knight errant. Shall I tell 
 you how he couched lance ia rest for a 
 distressed damsel, and how the lady was 

 
 The ParTc. 253 
 
 nearly rewarding him by giving him per- 
 mission to wear her colours in his helm, 
 but prudently compromised matters by 
 only giving him her motto ?" 
 
 " What do you mean, child ?" said Belle, 
 utterly bewildered. " When and where 
 did Mr. Travers ever play knight errant 
 to you ?" 
 
 " Yes, and when I tell you, I suppose 
 I shall be lectured for impropriety and 
 told, as papa said when he heard it, that 
 I mustn't go about any more by myself. 
 No, Belle, you won't tease me about it, 
 will you ? I'll tell you how it was," and 
 Breezie related her adventure at King's 
 Cross. 
 
 " Rather agree with your father, Breezie 
 dear. We musn't have you wandering 
 about the country and picking up cham- 
 pions in this sort of way. Champions 
 turn out admirers, my dear, and we are 
 very apt to be grateful to men who help 
 us out of a difficulty when they are much 
 worse looking than Mr. Travers. Do you 
 know I think he looked as if he half ex- 
 pected leave to serve under your banner, in 
 consideration of former services already."
 
 254 Three Years. 
 
 " Don't be absurd, and do mind where 
 you're driving to. You've woke up a 
 park-keeper, poor fellow, by nearly going 
 over his toes. Let's go home and have 
 some tea. It's getting so cold." 
 
 They turned out of the Park, and 
 made their way to Grosvenor Square in 
 search of that feminine panacea, though 
 for the matter of that the male sex take it 
 equally kindly between five and six when 
 they get an opportunity. 
 
 I must here endeavour to give a shght 
 sketch of Belle Bartley nee Brabazon. 
 Picture to yourself a tall handsome wo- 
 man of about five-and-twenty with dark 
 hair and an almost perfect figure. Her 
 features were almost too regular, too 
 statuesque, but were redeemed by a most 
 lustrous and expressive pair of grey eyes, 
 pencilled over with most perfectly marked 
 eyebrows. Their usual expression was 
 tiuQ-ed with a sort of charminfy humid 
 hiuguor that her adorers raved about ; but 
 those who had seen their owner roused, 
 knew how those grey eyes could lighten 
 on occasion. She had appeared rather 
 late in London, not indeed till about one-
 
 The Parh. 255 
 
 ancl-twenty when the death of her mother 
 threw her under the protection of an old 
 aunt and a thorough London stager. 
 Previously to this she had resided in the 
 country, where they had removed on the 
 death of Mr. Brabazon, which had taken 
 place some five years before. Her inti- 
 macy with Breezie Langton is easily ex- 
 plained. In those bright joyous days when 
 Cis Langton had the world before him and 
 something to work for, there was no house 
 in London where he was more intimate 
 than the Brabazons. Mr. Brabazon held 
 a good appointment under Government, 
 and Cis was quite the ami de la maison. 
 Belle was an only child, and from the time 
 she was six or seven years old had looked 
 upon Cis as a sort of elder brother ; in 
 fact, I beheve in the beo^innino- of their 
 intimacy she contemplated a far warmer 
 tie, and solemnly announced her intention 
 of marrying him as soon as she was big 
 enough. However, Cis was her special 
 favourite, he constantly took her off to see 
 pantomimes when she was a little girl, 
 and as she grew older she knew his was 
 the strono^est interest she could brinof to
 
 2o6 Three Years. 
 
 bear, to extricate herself from the clutches 
 of her governess for an evcDing with 
 Grisi and Mario. Cis was the confidante 
 of most of her girlish scrapes. 
 
 When Cis broke with his old associates 
 generally, and entered npon his wild 
 career, the Brabazons was perhaps nearly 
 the only house he kept up his intimacy 
 with. They were always glad to see him, 
 and never either bored him with advice 
 or alluded to his reckless escapades. They 
 knew of his bitter sorrow, and Mrs. Bra- 
 bazon, a really good woman and a clever 
 one to boot, though she secretly sor- 
 rowed over a bright career so fearfully 
 marred, felt that the wound would bear no 
 touching. With true womanly sympathy 
 she tried to make her house pleasant to 
 the stricken man. Tlirough the midst of 
 those wild reckless days, the few pure 
 hours Cis passed wore in that house 
 petting and spoiling Belle. No wonder 
 Belle's heart warmed when Cis presented 
 her some twelve months back to his young 
 and motherless daughter, and the two had 
 been fast friends ever since. It's true 
 Belle expressed great surprise that she
 
 The Parh. 257 
 
 had never heard of his marriage before, 
 and had puzzled her pretty head a good 
 deal over it since. Langton had briefly 
 said in answer to her surprise, that 
 Breezie's mother had been dead many 
 years, that it was one of the most pain- 
 ful events of his life and one he could 
 never bear to allude to. 
 
 Poor Belle, her's was one of hundreds 
 of town marriages. Her father's had been 
 principally life income, the slight pension 
 her mother had received of course died 
 with her, and Belle, when she arrived at 
 her aunt's had but a scanty fortune she 
 could call her own. The old lady was 
 kind to her, and at first extremely proud 
 of her. The worldly old woman knew well 
 the difference of Mrs. Delamere per se, and 
 Mrs. Delamere with one of the handsomest 
 girls in London to chaperone. She was 
 not out in her calculations. Belle Avas 
 rather the rage. She was not only hand- 
 some but could talk. They do not always 
 go together as in common justice they 
 should not. Some women are only made 
 for ornament — 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 Three Years. 
 
 "The pretty things look wise, and think they're 
 thinking," 
 
 is the extent of their intellectual powers. 
 Your beauties are apt to bore one in a 
 quadrille if you repeat it often. Valsing 
 is another thing if you can valse, and stay, 
 there is no need of conversational powers. 
 
 Mrs. Delaraere felt at first immensely 
 proud of her niece, though she after all 
 regarded her something in the light of an 
 appannage, handsome, useful, and credit- 
 able in a proprietary point of view. It 
 enabled her to put her rouged wrinkled old 
 face, and to wag her wicked old tongue in 
 1 louses that had previously regarded her 
 as a bete noir, and as much to be avoided 
 as the country in spring time. She pro- 
 secuted her raids at whist in a more ex- 
 tensive field, thanks to Belle's handsome 
 face and popularity. 
 
 Then came the old pitiful story. Mrs. 
 Delamere's friends and compeers wagged 
 their sagacious old heads, and opined it 
 was quite time Belle was established. 
 Olfers, and good ones too, she had had, 
 but Belle was foolish enough, (I am quite 
 ashamed of her as I write it) to think a
 
 The Park. 259 
 
 little liking for the man as well as his 
 establishment necessary. Mrs. Delamere's 
 coterie could see no good in Belle's flirting 
 so with that young Mr. Repton, who every 
 one knew was in no position to marry, or 
 indeed likely to be a marrying man. 
 
 It was the old story. Mrs. Delamere's 
 ambition was roused to see her niece pro- 
 perly established. The moral screw was 
 put on, and Belle went through a course of 
 what is perhaps best described by the 
 homely term, ' being knagged at.' Many 
 a woman could explain that process if she 
 liked. The perpetual drop we know wears 
 away the stone ; but perpetual knagging 
 is a much quicker process. It bites through 
 the nerves and feelings as nitric acid^ does 
 the flesh. 
 
 Charlie Repton alone of her many ad- 
 mirers had ever touched Belle's heart. 
 He had not spoken, and after a quarrel with 
 him towards the end of last season, com- 
 prised as such quarrels often are of some 
 injustice on his side, and haughty indig- 
 nation on hers. Belle from sheer weariness 
 yielded to the moral pressure, and took the 
 most ehgible admirer that happened just
 
 260 Tliree Years. 
 
 then to be on lier list — tlie wealthy stock- 
 broker. 
 
 We don't shut our daughters up now-a- 
 days, but by judicious torture of the ner- 
 vous system we can make them only wish 
 we did. But we have followed the pony 
 carriag-e quite up to Grosvenor Square, 
 and it's hio-h time to look back at the 
 Park again. 
 
 " Now, Jack," said Repton, as they con- 
 tinued their walk, " perhaps you will tell 
 me why you were so extremely urgent that 
 I should stop Mrs. Bartley; no, I don't 
 mean that exactly, because of course I 
 know, but perhaps you will tell me who 
 the lady was that possessed such powerful 
 attractions." 
 
 " There you beat me. Of course that 
 was why I wanted you to stop and speak ; 
 but as for who the girl is I know no more 
 than you do." 
 
 " But hang it all, you know her; where 
 did you meet her ? for even if your common 
 assurance induced you to speak to her 
 wit hout an introduction, she would not have 
 answered you in the way she did." 
 
 "No, Charlie, J have mot her before,
 
 The Park 261 
 
 tliougli I don't know her name, I met her 
 travelUug down to your place at the time 
 of the Steeple-chase," and Jack re- 
 counted as much as he thought good of 
 his railway adventure. 
 
 " And you've no idea who she is ; she's 
 a nice lookinof oirl." 
 
 " No ; but as she said she was staying 
 with Mrs. Bartley, a call there to-morrow 
 will, I conclude, enlighten me." 
 
 " Halloa, Jack ! you seem in earnest. 
 You can't go to-morrow, it's the first day 
 of Epsom and we're bound to go and see 
 the Woodcotes run. No fellow ever ffot 
 married in the Derby week, I'll take odds 
 it isn't legal." 
 
 " Don't talk bosh ; here comes Delpre, 
 he don't look particularly happy, but he can 
 tell us what's doino- down there," and 
 Jack jerked his head in the direction of 
 Tatter sail's. 
 
 " How do, Repton ? how are you, Tra- 
 vers ; filthy weather isn't it ? Surprises me 
 there's anyone here such a day." 
 
 " What's doing below ?" inquired Rep- 
 ton. 
 
 *' Plenty of layers against the Two Thou-
 
 262 Three Years. 
 
 sand winner said to be a little off, and 
 Danebury's putting down the pieces in 
 earnest ; but the race looks to me pretty 
 open, and I fancy there'll be wry faces 
 this day week to a great extent." 
 
 "In short," said Charlie, "you think 
 the prophets will be all out this time." 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder at all ; they generally 
 are. One might apply a remark of Curran's 
 to that race. ' That they assume know- 
 ledge in proportion to their ignorance, and 
 think they are deep when they are merely 
 perplexed.' " 
 
 "Good," said Charlie in his usual lan- 
 guid manner, " then you won't attempt to 
 elucidate the Epsom mystery." 
 
 " My dear Repton, I never affect to 
 elucidate mysteries for anyone ; my mission 
 at present is simply to bet against anyone 
 solving them. Besides," he continued in 
 a rather patronizing way, which set 
 Charlie's teeth on edge, " I can give you 
 no better advice on racing than to listen 
 to nothing you're told. You will at least 
 have the satisfaction of losing your money 
 in your own way. It's more satisfactory 
 to back ' a dead un' of one's own picking,
 
 The Park. 263 
 
 tliau one selected by us for a friend ; good- 
 bye." 
 
 " Your friend, Jack, has become of the 
 turf turfy," remarked Charhe, as Delpre 
 quitted them. 
 
 " Don't call him my friend; for the rest 
 it's now his vocation. Missionaries talk 
 missions, and racing men racing, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 " You are right," said Charlie, " how 
 we do bore our fellow-creatures with our 
 own pecuhar interests in this world, I 
 suppose it's human nature. How often we 
 inflict hunting on the women, and how the 
 pretty hypocrites bear it, and on the 
 extreme verge of yawning pretend to be 
 interested in our narration of that five- 
 and-forty minutes over Asgarby pastures. 
 A sort of relation that almost makes a 
 fox-hunter sick unless he happens to know 
 the ground." 
 
 "Do you know, Jack, on the whole," 
 he continued after a short pause, " they're 
 more merciful to us in that way. They 
 don't go the lengths about their croquet, 
 balls, archery, or whatever it may be, 
 that we do about our field sports."
 
 2G4 Three Years. 
 
 " I suppose," said Jack, " tliey consider 
 it a duty to listen to us lords of the 
 creation," and even as lie spoke, lie won- 
 dered whether there was a woman of his 
 acquaintance he dared say so to. Indeed, 
 I'm not sure he did not glance furtively 
 round to make sure that no strang^er of 
 the sex overheard such a heterodoxical 
 proposition. 
 
 " Jack, my son, welcome to the abode 
 of civilization and art," said a voice behind 
 liira. " From what particular depths of 
 ])rovincial obscurity you have sprung it's 
 not worth while to inquire. You show a 
 sense of your deficiencies, by braving 
 Arctic weather to join in the Epsom car- 
 nival." 
 
 The speaker was Coningsby Clarke. 
 
 "How are you, Coningsby? Why, I 
 thought you were in Ireland !" 
 
 *' So I am when I'm at home ; but I've 
 just run over for a little to see what 
 London's doing, and have been here about 
 a fortniglit." 
 
 " Well, what's going on ? I only got 
 licre on Saturday." 
 
 '* My dear fellow, how can anything be
 
 The Park. 265 
 
 going on such horrible weather. We all 
 feel like flowers that have come out too 
 early, or butterflies that have mistaken the 
 season. The best thing you could have 
 done, would have been to have staid in bed 
 in the country. How you fellows must 
 sleep this sort of weather down at Milton. 
 I quite Q-n\j you your opportunities." 
 " Don't be a fool, Coningsby !" 
 '' What your relations always say when 
 you decline to do something particularly 
 disagreeable. The Epsom mania has set 
 in just now, and nobody can speak three 
 consecutive sentences without introducino- 
 the Derby. Best story we've had at the 
 Thermopolium lately was about old Floyd. 
 Do you know him ? man they call Gaffer 
 Floyd — he's rather a roughish lot to talk 
 to. A great fellow for shooting, and the 
 most confounded poacher out. Well, he 
 had some place in Scotland last year, and 
 of course ' the Gaffer's ' propensities 
 prompted him as birds got scarce on his 
 own ground to try how they were on his 
 neighbour's. The neighbouring ground 
 was pretty well looked after, and he was 
 remonstrated with. Of course he apolo-
 
 2G6 Three Years. . 
 
 gized — ' the Gaffer ' would always do 
 that, after shooting a cock-pheasant under 
 your dining-room windows, at the same 
 time spinning some marvellous yarn about 
 how such a mistake had happened. Still 
 sport continued so bad on his ground that 
 he couldn't keep off his neighbour's. He 
 was a crafty card and difficult to catch ; 
 but at last the adjoining keepers sum- 
 moned him — the case hardly seemed quite 
 clear. He had a sharp attorney defending 
 him, and it was rather a question of iden- 
 tity. ' The Gaffer ' perpetrated all sorts 
 of disguises in his marauding expedi- 
 tions. 
 
 " ' Well,' said the attorney, in cross- 
 examination of the keeper. ' You say you 
 are quite sure it was Mr. Floyd. How did 
 you know him ?' 
 
 '" i knew him by his dogs,' said the 
 keeper. 
 
 "'If you did I'm d d !' chimed in 
 
 ' the GaUer,' ' for tliey luere pairded last 
 time I went there I' 
 
 " Magistrates convulsed, and ' the Gaf- 
 fer ' lined heavily in spite of his remon- 
 strances."
 
 TJie ParJc. 267 
 
 « 
 
 " Good-bye," continued Coningsby. 
 " See you again in tlie course of the even- 
 ing, I suppose." 
 
 " Rum fellow," said Jack. " I vote we 
 cut this," and the two sauntered out of 
 the Park. 
 
 They strolled up Piccadilly in silence, 
 each was thinking of the pony-phaeton, 
 though not quite in the same way. 
 
 " Well, good-bye, Charlie," said Tra- 
 vers, as they arrived at the corner of Bond 
 Street. "I'm not certain about going 
 down to-morrow. If I do I'll call for you 
 at eleven, but don't wait." 
 
 " Bosh ! my good fellow, you'll find 
 Grosvenor Square where it is for the rest 
 of the season. The nameless young 
 woman's not going away so suddenly as 
 all that. Breakfast with me at my rooms 
 to-morrow at half-past ten." 
 ^ "Well, if I can; but don't wait," and 
 Jack dashed off. "Yes," he thought, "I 
 don't think I'll throw a chance away till 
 at all events I know who she is ; and as for 
 Master Charlie, his 
 
 '"Nee timi quidem veterum immemor aiiwruni,' 
 
 I shouldn't wonder might be put in a
 
 2G3 Tliree Years. 
 
 good deal stronorer lano-u<ao:o. Wonder 
 why lie never went in for Belle Brabazon ? 
 From all I hear he was genuinely spoony 
 there," and Jack thought if he had Char- 
 lie's income, he would very soon come to 
 serious business witli any girl he was really 
 fond of. Then he thought of the fair un- 
 known, and wondered whether she had 
 any money. Then he thought of what he 
 had seen of married officers struggling 
 along on small incomes, and wondered how 
 far four hundred a vear went in those 
 cases. The latter reflection was so ex- 
 tremely unpalatable, that he turned into 
 the Thermopolium, and solaced himself 
 with sherry and bitters.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 EPSOM DOWNS. 
 
 The Derby day dawned, coutrary to tlie 
 promise of the week, with a cloudless sky. 
 The myriads who yearly keep the festival 
 proceeded to their various depths of ablu- 
 tion in all jollity befitting the occasion. 
 From " Costermonger Joe" who took his 
 rinse under the pump about two, to His 
 Grace who got into his bath at eleven, 
 and travelled down by " a special," burst 
 forth in cheery tones the exclamation. 
 Hurrah, fine day after all ! 
 
 To lose your money is bad, but to lose 
 it on a wet day is the very deuce ; one 
 of the most depressing trials that a Derby- 
 ite — no political allusion — can sustain. 
 I am not going to inflict upon you the 
 hundred times told tale of " Epsom and 
 back." We have simply to follow the 
 fortunes of one or two of the characters in
 
 270 Three Tears. 
 
 my story, and see what befell them there. 
 Whether they bore their good fortune with 
 moderation, or took their " Epsom salts" 
 without wry faces. 
 
 Jack Travers and Repton went down 
 together by road, and arriving there in 
 the usual course of events, walked into 
 " the ring" to see what was doing. That 
 excitable element was at its noisiest. The 
 roar of — " I'll lay against Cineas, Sitting- 
 bourne, &c., the Derby I'll bet upon, 
 want to back one, sir," continuous. 
 
 These Titans of the betting ring are 
 always a subject of wonderment and 
 mystery to me. After the excitement 
 of speculating in thousands, one wonders 
 whether they think it worth while to 
 count their change for a glass of ale. 
 What are they like in the bosoms of 
 their families. Does Mr. Foresight, the 
 leviathan bookmaker, respond in his do- 
 mestic circle to the soft announcement 
 that dinner is ready, with his accustomed 
 war cry of " I'll take odds." Or meet his 
 neighbour's mild observation that it looks 
 like a fine day, with the fierce rejoinder of, 
 " It rains a pony. 

 
 Epsom Doums. 271 
 
 It must come hard to divest themselves 
 of the accustomed jargon, and hear an 
 assertion made without offering to bet 
 against its correctness. That they specu- 
 late on anything we all know, from the 
 rain drops running down a window pane 
 to maggots racing across a soup plate. 
 Is not the story well-known of the great 
 maggot race, in which one man having 
 noticed his opponent warming his plate 
 with a view to makine^ his mao;o;ot more 
 livelv, determined not to throw a chance 
 away and put his plate also to the fire; 
 but, unfortunately, in his anxiety to have 
 the best of it, a trifle overdid it, inso- 
 much that his maggot was literally frizzled 
 before he reached the middle. 
 
 Are they ever* without a book in their 
 pockets. I once met one at a place of 
 amusement in London ; but he seemed 
 rather ashamed himself as if he was wast- 
 ing his time, though, I fancy even there 
 he had a view to laying odds against 
 something or somebody. 
 
 It occurs to me, too, at times, which is 
 the more reputable ring of the two — Tatter- 
 sail's or the Stock Exchange ? The one
 
 272 Three Years. 
 
 depreciates a horse's price in tlie betting, 
 the other sends shares down to nothinor. 
 The first cause the loss of money to men 
 who indulge in betting — the latter ruin 
 widows, children, men too old to begin 
 the world again, &c. Pulhug a horse is 
 deemed disgraceful — what view are we to 
 take of a confederation, " that sell for a 
 fall ?" It's a queer world my masters. 
 " What's in a name ?" everything. Your 
 respected relatives who view with horror 
 your proceedings at Tattersall's, are quite 
 convinced of your being strictly in the 
 paths of virtue whilst you are " knocking 
 ont," (i.e. breaking) perfectly solvent banks 
 on the Stock Exchange. Of course you are 
 reducing hundreds to poverty ; but it's all 
 legitimate business, and you make, say a 
 couple of thousand by it — selling what 
 you had not got. Your relations and 
 friends look upon you in the light of a 
 good man of business. I wonder what the 
 widow, with her three daughters at Bath, 
 who suddenly finds herself reduced ft-om 
 the comforts of life to penury would think 
 of your proceedings, could she, poor 
 tiling, ever be made to understand tlie
 
 Epsom Doivns. 27 S 
 
 process that has robbed her of her all. 
 No, while the Stock Exchange is what it 
 is, I prefer, I think, Tattersall's as the 
 cleanlier ring of the two. It, at all events, 
 only rnins men, and wars not on women 
 and children. 
 
 Another cm^ious thina^ connected with 
 the Derby is, why should men, utterly un- 
 conversant with racing, feel bound to have 
 a strong opinion as to what is to win this 
 particular race. I have talked with men 
 who never ventured an opinion about rac- 
 ing at any other time, who never affected 
 to know or care anything about it. Still 
 they persist in stating their opinion about 
 . the result of the Epsom struggle with a 
 confidence perfectly astounding. I have 
 known country clergymen in remote vil- 
 lages, lawyers, graziers, farmers, aye, even 
 an engine driver, people who could hardly 
 enumerate the names of six horses engaged, 
 speak with the most emphatic decision as ' 
 to what will be the result of the Wednes- 
 day in May. I suppose it's bred in us, or is 
 it part of our religious creed to have an 
 opinion about the Derby ? In many cases 
 I am quite sure men would sooner lose 
 
 VOL. T. T
 
 274 Three Years. 
 
 their money tlian fail in their predictions. 
 They would sooner their pocket should 
 be damaged, than that their vanity should 
 suffer. 
 
 There was the usual rush for the pad- 
 dock ; the usual struggle back ; the cry of 
 "they're off," immediately extinguished 
 by that of " false start." Two minutes 
 and some odd seconds, and a hoarse roar 
 proclaims, " The West has won a neck," 
 to the discomforture of the Eelders, and 
 the Sittingbourne and Cineas parties. 
 
 Charlie looks cheery over it, and sug- 
 gests looking out for luncli. He is a 
 steady follower of John Scott, whilst Jack, 
 though a backer of " The West," had 
 as usual been seduced into " a real o-ood 
 thing," in outsiders at the last moment, 
 and is now thinking what a fool he has 
 been — " the good thing," ' tlieir custom 
 oftimes of an afternoon,' having com- 
 pounded about Tattenham Corner. 
 
 "All right," replied Jack. "Our fel- 
 lows have a drag somewhere opposite with 
 all the necessaries of life on board. I never 
 look at a race after the Derby on principle. 
 You must drink the horse's health when
 
 Epsom Downs. 275 
 
 you win, and joii want champagne still 
 more when vou lose. So come alonof." 
 
 The pair made their way across the 
 course. Meandered in and out of endless 
 breaks and carriages, made numberless 
 bad casts at the drag they sought. Charlie 
 had already expressed his opinion that the 
 drag of the — th was a myth, and the 
 lunch but another of Jack's " good things," 
 when — 
 
 " Here vou are, Travers !" broke cheer- 
 ily on their ears. " Come along. This is 
 the shop to learn what to eat, drink, and 
 avoid in — here's Herries makiup- himself 
 ill with lobster salad, while the Doctor's 
 been struggling so long with that pigeon - 
 pie, that if he hasn't tumbled into it and 
 goodness knows it's about big enough, he 
 must have tumbled the best part of it into 
 him. Here you are, lots of room !" 
 
 The speaker was young Rolls, in all 
 the exuberance and fun of a first Derby. 
 
 The room that he spoke of so airily was 
 rather apochryphal. The drag, as drags 
 are apt to be on this occasion, beiug pretty 
 well covered with hungry luncheon - 
 seekers ; but, then again, fortunately 
 
 T 2
 
 276 Three Years. 
 
 there is no limit to the number you can 
 put on them, and Charhe Repton was 
 inducted at last into a seat on the foot- 
 board. 
 
 "Now, Crumbs," said Jack, "hand 
 us something eatable down here, and if 
 you'll give me a tumbler full of anything 
 cold, bar water, I'll drink your health, so 
 I daresay will Repton if you'll give him a 
 chance." 
 
 Thus adjured, Rolls speedily provided a 
 bottle of champagne and some eatables. 
 Indeed, that young gentleman quite re- 
 velled in administering to the wants of his 
 fellow-creatures, and what with halloaing 
 to what he designated ' pals ' in the dis- 
 tance ' to come and feed,' and hob-nobbing 
 with other ' pals ' on other drags in his 
 immediate vicinity, had his hands quite 
 full. Occasionally he expressed his opinion 
 to Jack that this was " no end of a lark," 
 and tliat he never meant to miss another 
 Derl)3^ 
 
 " Well, Crumbs ; did you win your 
 money ?" inquired Jack. 
 
 " Of course I did. Drew The West in a 
 sweep. Awful clialf here against the
 
 Epsom Downs. 277 
 
 Doctor ! he drew a ' dead 'un ;' as we tell 
 him, quite professional ! he's savage as 
 can be, at least he was; he's 'mellowing 
 up ' a bit now under the influence of 
 lunch." 
 
 " How do, Herries ? how are you, Rolls ? 
 Give me a glass of sherry, I'm about beat," 
 said Delpre, who at that moment made his 
 way up to the drag. " Well, Travers ! 
 did the ' all black ' suit you ? Jolly day, 
 isn't it ? thought on Monday we should 
 have awful weather, but it's turned out 
 very well." 
 
 " Beg pardon, gentlemen," said a 
 shabbil3^-attired, tall, cadaverous-looking 
 man, with a steely blue eye, who had just 
 approached. " Beg pardon, gentlemen ; 
 but if any of you likes a bit of quiet 
 sport, my partner and I have got a little 
 ' chicken ' and such like going on there, 
 just where you see the broom." 
 
 " Here you are, Doctor," cried Rolls, 
 " here's a chance to mend your fortunes ! 
 Win all your money back at roulette." 
 
 "Quite right, sir," said the man. 
 " Now's the time to get back your losings. 
 Now's the time to treble your winnings.
 
 27 S Three Years. 
 
 Give us a turn, sir; horses break down, 
 but the little ball always gets home. I'm 
 sent down here express, I am, by a band 
 of regular stick-at-nothing philanthropists, 
 who don't like to hear of anybody coming 
 home a loser from Epsom." Here he burst 
 out into a verse of an old race-course 
 song — 
 
 " ' Some with heavy sumphs, and some with poury faces. 
 Wish as they go home they'd never seen the cussed 
 races.' 
 
 None of that says my employers. ' Tom, 
 my man,' says they, ' you'll go down and 
 succour the afflicted. Let 'em win their 
 money back again, and go home smiling.' 
 Here I am, a solace for losers, a regular 
 California for winners. Here you are, 
 money to be won, an easy-chair to do it 
 in, and gratuitous champagne. Porters 
 provided at only five per cent, to carry 
 your winnings home for you. Come across, 
 gentlemen, break the bank and have done 
 with it. I want to get back to take my 
 missus to the opera. But my orders is not 
 to leave till I've distributed the last sove- 
 reign." 
 
 A more finished .specimen of rascality
 
 Epsom Dow7is. 279 
 
 could scarcely be met with, as with grin- 
 ning face he poured forth the above 
 torrent of " patter," greeted with shouts 
 of laughter by the excited luncheon party. 
 
 " Come along," said Rolls, " let's go 
 and chance a pound or so with ' this 
 solace for losers,' and see what sort of a 
 crib he's got." 
 
 " Thank you, sir. You'll give me a 
 turn, Captain, won't you ?" said the man, 
 addressing Delpre, in a rather marked 
 manner. 
 
 Delpre had not been paying much atten- 
 tion to what was going on ; but he now 
 turned, pausing in the act of raising his 
 glass to his lips as the tones caught his 
 ear. As he expected, he recognised David- 
 son. 
 
 " Thank you, my man. I'd rather back 
 my judgment racing than my luck at 
 roulette ; however, you'll doubtless find 
 plenty who are not of ray opinion," and 
 as he spoke, he jumped off the wheel on 
 which he had been standing. An ex- 
 ample followed by Rolls and three or four 
 others. 
 
 " Come along, Jack," exclaimed that
 
 280 Three Years. 
 
 excited youth, "let's have one turn at 
 the tables ; I know I'm in luck." 
 
 " All riglit," replied Travers, " I don't 
 mind just for twenty minutes." 
 
 " What a fool you are," said Repton. 
 Confound it ! you're old enough to know 
 better." 
 
 " Nonsense, come along, Charlie, it's all 
 in the day's work." 
 
 "Not 1," replied Repton, "we shall 
 meet at dinner." 
 
 "All right, I am off for a little gamble," 
 and Jack, Rolls, and two or three more 
 preceded by Davidson, made their way 
 across to the canvas- walled Temple of 
 Fortune. 
 
 It was a flash establishment of its kind. 
 A long table ran up the centre, one end 
 of which was devoted to the mysteries of 
 chicken-hazard, the other to those of 
 roulette, while on a side table were placed 
 I'eft-eshmcnts of all sorts. 
 
 "Hang your roulette," said Jack, "let's 
 go for the legitimate thing," and the party 
 made their way to the upper end of the 
 tent. 
 
 "Pass me the box," said Travers, as
 
 Epsom Doivns. 281 
 
 lie threw his stake upou ' the in.' Five's 
 the main, following the announcement im- 
 mediately with a fatal deuce ace ; his 
 second hand was little better as he threw 
 out again almost immediately, but with 
 his third he was more successful, throwing 
 in four successive mains. 
 
 " Real good thing this," said Jack, 
 " give us some champagne. Here you are. 
 Crumbs," and he passed the box. 
 
 Rolls knew nothing of this game, but 
 played under the mentorship of Travers, 
 and as is so often the case, the dice came 
 to his call and he had a most successful 
 turn against the bank. The others fol- 
 lowed suit with dubious fortune. We 
 cannot follow all the vajfaries of the o^amo, 
 suffice to say in about an hour the 
 whole party were thoroughly cleared out, 
 with the exception of Eolls who apparently 
 could do no wrong. They had all stopped 
 play, except Rolls and Travers, the latter 
 had borrowed some money from Rolls to go 
 on with. Jack was terribly ' out,' but had 
 now resolved not to touch the box himself, 
 but simply to back Rolls. For a wonder 
 it succeeded, and still more to be wondered
 
 282 Three Years. 
 
 at Jack was seized with a paroxysm of 
 prudence. Having repaid Crumbs, recouped 
 all bis losses, and finding himself a few 
 sovereigns to the good, he touched Rolls 
 as he passed the box and said : 
 
 *' That'll do, Crumbs, get money for 
 those counters and come away at once." 
 
 " Nonsense, I'm going to break the 
 bank," was the rejoiuder, " I'm in scream- 
 ing luck." 
 
 " Do as I tell you at once, there's a 
 deuced rough lot gathered at the far end 
 of the tent, and if we don't clear out 
 pretty quickly, we shall take very little of 
 any kind out with us. Here, Barton," he 
 said in an under tone, " close up, keep close 
 to Crumbs and mind we all stick together 
 going out." 
 
 The banker was some little time cashing 
 Rolls's counters, and pressed him strongly 
 to liave another turn, 
 
 "Nonsense," said Jack, "we'll give you 
 another turn to-morrow, it's too late now. 
 All right, Crumbs ; keep close, Sledge." 
 
 Barton, or as he was called in the 
 regiment, " Sledge," was just the man for 
 tlio situation. Broad-shouldered, bull-
 
 Epsom Doivns. 283 
 
 necked, and about medium heiglit "he was 
 the athlete of the corps, great at rowing, 
 cricket, rackets, and all athletic games ; 
 he was always more or less iu training, 
 and could hold his own with his ' hands' 
 against most professionals. A real good 
 row was a thing he rather revelled in, 
 thoutrh as inoffensive a man as ever 
 walked. Still his spirits rather rose at the 
 prospect of a shindy ; cool as possible and 
 able to hit like a catapult with both hands, 
 a more formidable auxiliary could not be 
 wished for. 
 
 "Now," muttered Jack, as they made 
 their way down the tent, " we'll get out 
 without a row if we can; but if it does 
 come, hit out in earnest at once." 
 
 "All right, ' drive on,' " replied Sledge. 
 
 On nearing the doorway, they found a 
 lot of ' roughs' closing in upon them. Jack 
 tried to push his way through ; but was 
 pushed rudely back by a beetling-browed 
 man, who requested to know where he was 
 shoving to ? 
 
 " Sho^dng no where," retorted Jack, 
 "I'm only making my way out. Let me 
 pass, can't you ?' 
 
 ♦j"
 
 284. Three Years. 
 
 " And can't you find any other way out 
 than over my toes," said the beetling- 
 browed man, putting himself straight in 
 Jack's path. 
 
 " I didn't tread on your confounded 
 feet, but I am going out, so get out of 
 the way." 
 
 " Oh, that's your game is it ?" and with- 
 out more ado the beetling-browed one 
 aimed a blow at Jack that would probably 
 have stretched him on the grass, had it 
 not been for Sledge Barton. 
 
 Sledge opined, as he said afterwards, 
 that it was getting time to edge in, and 
 he kept his eye fixed on Jack's adversar3\ 
 The ruffian's arm was struck up by Sledge 
 just in time, while at the same time letting 
 go his other hand he caught the ag- 
 gressor full under the jaw, and felled 
 him to the ground. The row of course 
 now became general, blows were exchanged 
 right and left, hats were knocked off and 
 a watch or two went in the scrimmage ; 
 but, tlianks princi])ally to their formidable 
 champion, in a couple of minutes or so they 
 found themselves outside. Here a tremen- 
 dous rush uij thoui was made, llolls was
 
 Ei)som Downs. 285 
 
 knocked down ; but rescued by Travers, 
 who, in turn went down from a straight 
 one on the nose. But Sledge, whose tre- 
 mendous hitting had estabhshed a funk, 
 fought his way to the spot, and Jack was 
 soon on his legs again. 
 
 " Run away, Rolls, you young fool," 
 roared Sledge. " You're no use here, 
 we'll be deuced soon out of it when you're 
 once off," and thus adjured, Crumbs took 
 to his heels. " Now, Jack, draw back a 
 second, here's one last dash in to cow 
 them," and Sledge made a final charge 
 on their assailants, knocked one clean off 
 his legs, struck down another's hand, and 
 closing with him threw him hea^dly, then 
 hastily rejoining Jack and his friends 
 made a retreat more rapid than dig- 
 nified. 
 
 " This is what comes of a little 'chicken,'" 
 said Jack, as they regained the drag, he 
 with a handkerchief to his bleeding nose, 
 no hat and a cousiderable amount of mud 
 about his clothes. 
 
 " Pretty thing while it lasted," remarked 
 Barton, with the air of aconuoisseur. "I 
 should like to have had just ten minutes
 
 25 6 Three Years. 
 
 with tliat black-faced lookiog scoun- 
 drel wlio be"-an it. I never saw him 
 
 again 
 
 C( 
 
 'to 
 
 No," said Jack, " I think you put 
 him out of it at starting. Now, you fel- 
 lows, we want a little brandy and water 
 and a clothes-brush." 
 
 "Why, what's up ?" "What's the mat- 
 ter?" " Where have you been ?" were the 
 inquiries showered on them from the drag. 
 
 " Never mind, we'll tell you directly. 
 Where's Crumbs ?" 
 
 " Here I am, all right. I couldn't find 
 the trap at first. Give me a little brandy 
 please, one of you," 
 
 " Did you stick to the money ?" inquired 
 Jack. 
 
 "Yes, all right," panted Rolls, who 
 between the row, the run, a knock down, 
 cliampagne and excitement, had not much 
 breath left to speak of. 
 
 " Good," said Barton, " then we'll call 
 a list of casualties." A couple of cut lips, 
 a cut eye, and Jack's still bleeding nose 
 comprised the casualties. A couple of 
 hats gone, a couple smashed, and a watch 
 missing, the deficiencies.
 
 Epsom Boivns. 287 
 
 " What a duffer you were to bring a 
 watcli to Epsom, Herries !" ejaculated 
 Travers. " Let's look at your winnings, 
 Crumbs." 
 
 Rolls handed over his bundle of notes, 
 the object of the campaign. 
 
 " Yes," said Jack, after looking over 
 them, "I think they'll do. There's a 
 couple of doubtful ones, but the rest seem 
 rigjit enough. I say, did anybody see 
 that confounded brute who took us there. 
 He was hovering about during the play, 
 very pressing with champagne ; but I 
 never saw him towards the end of the 
 business." 
 
 " No," said Herries, " I saw him slip 
 out a few minutes before we got up, and 
 I fancied I caught sight of him pointing 
 to Rolls just before the row ; but I saw 
 no more of him. It's my impression if 
 we had waited a few minutes longer we 
 shouldn't have got off so easy. They were 
 not quite prepared for Jack's sudden 
 move." 
 
 " jSTever mind, I think T shall know his 
 ugly face again," growled Barton, " and 
 the next time I see it, I'll mark it for him
 
 288 Three Years. 
 
 if possible. Hurrah 1 here come the horses. 
 Now then, who's for town ?" 
 
 "Well, I'm off," said Jack. ''I'm 
 goiog up by rail. I wish to goodness I'd 
 a hat." 
 
 "Here you are, I've a felt hat inside," 
 and Kolls, after a dive into the boot, pro- 
 duced one. " Good bye." 
 
 " How Charlie will laugh," muttered 
 Jack, as he walked away, " a hard fight 
 and losing one's hat all for four sovereigns. 
 Never mind, lucky I didn't lose more. As 
 Charlie says, I'm ' old enough to know 
 better.' Glad Crumbs made such a good 
 thino; of it thougfli." 
 
 Old enough to know better. Yes, the 
 phrase is drummed into us from our child- 
 hood. When we tear our frocks, and lose 
 our shoes, we arc remonstrated with in 
 those self-same words — and yet do we ever 
 arrive at that age when we do know^ bet- 
 ter ? Who of us cannot recall the school 
 boy scrape iu which he happened to be 
 the biggest or oldest of the party ? Were 
 you not kept to the last as the largest 
 plum of the lot, and did not six stripes or 
 so extra endorse that fatal aphorism ? In
 
 JSjJsom Downs. 289 
 
 your first early scrape in life, wlien your 
 friends came to yoar assistance, though, 
 they smoothed it over with great kindness, 
 did they not present that self-same tonic to 
 your acceptance ? they did tliinh that you 
 were " old enough," &c. How I do hate 
 that phrase ; how I wish Methusalah had 
 had a Boswell to give us an account of the 
 last ten years of his venerable life. I have 
 no doubt he burnt his fingers still, though 
 he had been doing it so many centuries. 
 If you marry or speculate imprudently, 
 how your friends shake their heads and 
 did tliinh, &c., are we ever old enough to 
 know better ? Do neither men nor women 
 ever make fools of themselves after three 
 score ? It's all very well, but the follies, 
 miscalled of youth, are not got through all 
 at once, like whooping-cough and measles. 
 Some of us take to them later in life. 
 The limit of our life is the limit of our 
 follies. We don't get rid of them all 
 by five-and-twenty. Do you recall the 
 hero or heroine of the ballad, I forget 
 which, who 
 
 " Gathered shells from morn till night, 
 Then threw them one by one away ;" 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 TJiree Tears. 
 
 and mucli in the same way do "we pass 
 our days getting through our folhes. 
 
 " When our vices have left us, we fancy 
 that we have left them." Our follies of 
 ten years ago have been thrown away 
 because they cease to amuse, not that 
 we are a bit the wiser. Probably we 
 have taken others to our hearts in their 
 places. 
 
 The last race of the day was over ; the 
 crowd had surged across the course, the 
 betting lawn was rapidly emptying. Gam- 
 blers and pleasure-seekers, winners and 
 losers, ladies by title and ladies b}^ courtesy, 
 the whole of the motley gathering was 
 once more swarming back to the great 
 hive. Was there not Cremorne, and many 
 a sight besides for those who like to see 
 their holiday fairly out. Lounging with 
 his back to the rails of the enclosure, 
 moodily smoking a cigar, while his eye 
 fell vacantly over the changing, bustling 
 crowd, was Delprc. His thoughts were 
 none of the cheeriest. He had backed 
 Cincas for a good deal of money, besides 
 having laid to a considerable extent against 
 tlie winner, and his active brain was al-
 
 Epsom Doivns. 201 
 
 ready calculatiDg how lie could manage to 
 float over the fatal Monday, and whether 
 the usual thing of " a plunge" on the Oaks 
 looked feasible. 
 
 His reflections were broken by a touch on 
 the shoulder, as some one muttered gently : 
 
 " Beg pardon, Captain, but I want to 
 speak to you." 
 
 He turned sharply, and on the other 
 side of the rails recognized Davidson. 
 
 "What the devil do you want?" in- 
 quired Delpre savagely. 
 
 " Come outside a minute," said the 
 other. " I want to talk to you. I think 
 you had better." 
 
 Delpre hesitated a second. " Confound 
 him !" he muttered, " I never was afraid 
 of him, and always did have the best of 
 him. I won't funk now, though he may 
 have made out some other pull over me," 
 and he found Davidson outside. 
 
 " Now what is it ?" he inquired angrily, 
 " if it's money you've applied to the wrong 
 man." 
 
 " No, I shouldu't have thought of ap- 
 plying to you after to-day. You are more 
 likely to borrow than lend." 
 
 u 2
 
 292 Tliree Years. 
 
 Delpre started, lie was not given to 
 talk about his turf transactions ; how 
 could Davidson know he was a heavy 
 loser. 
 
 '• Probably then you've come to volun- 
 teer a loan," he sneered. 
 
 " Well, you are a cool hand. You always 
 were, and took ' a facer' well in the old 
 days. No, I'm sorry for you, Del ; but 
 you've got it hot this time I know well. 
 Bless you, I can know what winner'll suit 
 most men now when it's worth my while. 
 It is to know about you, as an old friend ; 
 so I took that trouble. I could reckon up 
 what paper you've got out as well, little 
 as you may think it. You've had a 
 baddish year again, so for." 
 
 " I suppose," said Delpre, calmly, " you 
 think it might be a good spec to buy up 
 the paper." 
 
 " I shouldn't mind doing that," returned 
 the other, " if I had the capital ; I've made 
 worse investments in my time." 
 
 " Dare say you have ; but you scarcely 
 called me out here to inform me that I was 
 a loser on the Derby, I presume." 
 
 " No, I want you to do me, that is to
 
 Epsom Downs. 293 
 
 do us a turn ; not to say but we'd make 
 it well worth your while besides," and here 
 Davidson hesitated. 
 
 " Go on," replied Delprd, " it's getting 
 late, and I want to be off." 
 
 " Well, the fact is, you see, I and my 
 partners we want somebody that's respect- 
 able, that's got a name, and is known at 
 Tattersall's to play into our hands a bit. 
 We'd do very well if we had only that ; 
 but we've all made rather too much noise 
 in society in our time. We've got a tidy 
 capital. Skinning the innocents is safe 
 and profitable, but the business wants ex- 
 tending ; we've a horse or two besides, 
 and often want a gentleman jock. Now 
 you've had a facer — why not join us. You 
 shall have your share. Now, for instance, 
 we've had a d — d bad day to-day. You 
 could bring a few young ones over to- 
 morrow, just to try their hand," and 
 Davidson jerked his head in the direc- 
 tion of the gambling booth. 
 
 " In short, turn bonnet to your roulette 
 table. Davidson, you're a fool. I've not 
 quite come to that yet, and must decline 
 the honour."
 
 294 lliree Years. 
 
 " Honour, witli you !" tliundered the 
 other. " Do you forget what I know and 
 can speak to — " 
 
 " Don't lose your temper, understanding 
 always goes with it, and you haven't much 
 to be"'in with. I thouo-ht we settled all 
 that at Milton. I don't see your hand is 
 any stronger than it was then. No, I'll 
 play my own game yet awhile." 
 
 " Delpre, you infernal scoundrel !" cried 
 Davidson, stung to madness by his oppon- 
 ent's coolness. " You ruined me years 
 ago. You shall make up for it now, or 
 by Heaven, I'll pubUsh the whole of that 
 Indian business to-morrow." 
 
 " And nobody will believe you. Now 
 listen to me," and his voice changed from 
 cold superciliousness, to a harsh grating 
 tone. " If you dare address me on a race- 
 course, till I speak to you, I'll give you 
 in charge of the police, and break up your 
 ■wretched gambling booth in about ten 
 minutes. Strip your pigeons yourself. 
 You had a handful of tliem to-day, if you 
 had had brains enough to pluck them. 
 But speak to mo, or interfere with me in
 
 Epsom Dotvns. 295 
 
 any way, and I'll do away with you alto- 
 gether. Rob in your own way if you will, 
 but don't cross me, or it will be the worse 
 for you." 
 
 " Perhaps you forget I hold that letter 
 of your's yet," rejoined Davidson : but the 
 half sulky, half cowed tones in which he 
 uttered it, showed that he again succumbed 
 to the bolder spirit. 
 
 *' No, I don't. If I had feared that, 
 you wouldn't be at large now. If I was 
 afraid of it this minute," he paused, hissed 
 into Davidson's ear. " I don't think you'd 
 ever leave these Downs," turned sharp on 
 his heel and walked rapidly towards the 
 station. 
 
 " Curse him !" muttered Davidson. 
 " He's too many for me, again. Perhaps 
 he's not hit quite so hard as I thought. 
 But look out, it will be my turn some day 
 yet. Something teUs me it will. I want 
 him badly. If we had only his head 
 amongst us, we might do anything. The 
 time will come when he won't cling to that 
 shred of respectabihty any longer ; then we 
 shall see. It's only waiting a httle longer.
 
 296 TJiree Years. 
 
 I sliould like to see liim what lie's made 
 me," and with another execration the 
 baffled ruffian walked off to "his haunts 
 unlawful." 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 t^ , >r» 
 
 LONJ)ON : 
 
 rrintcd by A. Schulze, 13, Tolaud Sti'cot. 
 
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