,&
 
 A REAL QUEEN 
 
 Romance 
 
 BY 
 
 R. E. FRANCILLON 
 
 AUTHOR OF "OLYMFIA," QLBES COPHKTUA," "ONE BY ONE," ETC. 
 
 A NEW EDIHON. 
 
 Eonfcon: 
 CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY. 
 
 1885.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 .... I call 
 
 This gift before all other good 
 
 To have the rose of womanhood 
 
 Mine own, from bud to fall. 
 
 ~T) OSAMOND ! why, you must have taken leave of youi 
 
 f| seven senses, my dear boy. Rosamond ! do you know 
 her age ? " 
 
 " Yes. She is old enough for me to know that the older she 
 grows the better I shall love her. But I don't think you quite 
 understand." 
 
 " Well, that's soon seen. Ill state the case, as if for the judges. 
 My niece, Rosamond, was just fifteen yesterday. You are let 
 me see, how old are you? " 
 
 " Three-and-twenty last July." 
 
 " Quite so. And you, Oswald Hargrave, who were only her age 
 eight years ago, actually offer marriage to a child who in eight 
 years will be only as old as you are now ! Come put such non- 
 sense out of your head ; and if you can't, come indoors, and I'll 
 show you a flint hatchet found only yesterday in Patchett'g 
 Piece, Oswald ! which will. A real Celt, my boy." 
 
 " No, Mr. Fane," said Oswald Hargrave, colouring a little at 
 the slight put upon the number of his years, but with certainly 
 no other sign of indecision ; " I'm afraid or rather I'm not afraid 
 that the flint is still unfound that can work that miracle. You 
 haven't stated the case quite fully, after all. It's true, Rosa- 
 mond's but fifteen, and I but twenty-three. Well, I suppose most 
 people are, at some time in their lives, either one or the other. 
 Some day she will be twenty-three, and I shall be thirty-one. 
 Of course I'm not asking to marry Rosamond to-day." 
 
 2135464
 
 2 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 " To-day ! God bless the boy ! " 
 
 "But, as I surely mean to marry her some day, the sooner that's 
 clearly understood by everybody the better it will be. I'll wait 
 two years three four; but if I have to wait a hundred it will 
 be the same." 
 
 " Bless the boy ! Why in a hundred years shell be too old! 
 
 " Rosamond, Mr. Fane, will never be either too young or too 
 old. I made up my mind to marry her when she was seven and 1 
 was fifteen, and I've never changed my mind, not for an hour 
 But now she's fifteen, I must be prudent, you see." 
 
 " Prudent ? No, Oswald, the prudence I do not see." 
 
 " Never mind. I'll make it as plain as a pike-staff before I've 
 done. At fifteen well she won't be much longer a child. I 
 know she lives out of the world down here, and it may be long 
 before she finds a face to her liking. But then, on the other hand, 
 it mayn't be long. All sorts of things may happen, and all sorts 
 of faces may come in her way. And I may be out of it ; her 
 world's small, but mine's wide. I want to work my way through 
 it with the knowledge, as fixed as fate, that I shall find Rosamond 
 at the end as the end. And so, if she understands, and you under- 
 stand, that she is mine even as I am hers, I shall go off with a good 
 heart, and come back when her finger's large enough for a ring." 
 " Bless the you could talk the skin off that flint hatchet ! 
 Oswald, if I didn't know you better I do know you, my boy, 
 but the world doesn't yet ; and what'll the world say to a man 
 with nothing but his fists for his fortune, coolly proposing that 
 a child, with something more than her face for hers, should be 
 kept for him under lock and key ? " 
 
 " I hate that sort of talk, and I despise it ; and so do yon. If 
 Rosamond had a million a-year and I were without a sixpence, 
 what difference would it make to me ? I'm not a man in a story, 
 to think himself bound in honour not to care for a girl unless 
 eh e's got nothing. Yes; if Rosamond had twenty million a-day 
 I'd care for her just the same. And as for the world, it won't 
 even be troubled to tell a single lie. If in two years I'm not 
 richer than Rosamond, then I don't love her, that's all." 
 
 "All, it's a fine thing to be three-and-twenty ; a very fine tiling 
 indeed. I sometimes think I'd almost give my Macedonian Stater 
 to be three-and-twenty last July. But three-and-twenty haa 
 other tricks besides faith in itself, Oswald. If I were to shut up 
 Bosamond, in my cabinet, and label and catalogue he/ as th
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 3 
 
 property of Oswald Hargrave, how would that shut Oswald 
 Hargrave's eyes from seeing a prettier face before he was twenty- 
 five?" 
 
 " Of course I shall see prettier faces than Rosamond's. I've 
 seen scores. But what does that signify ? I mean to marry 
 Rosamond, not because she's pretty, or ugly, or rich, or poor, or 
 anything-." 
 
 " Then, bless the boy ! what do you want to marry her for ? " 
 '' For the best of all reasons. Because she is She." 
 "And for a still better, because you're an ass, my dear lad. 
 Come in and see that flint hatchet; there's a thing that remembers 
 the Ancient Britons and isn't changed ! Think of that, an axe 
 that links Queen Boadicea 
 
 " With Queen Rosamond," said Oswald, without a smile. " Yes ; 
 I'll see that hatchet. I like the thought of a thing that has cut 
 its way through two thousand years, and found Rosamond at the 
 end. I will take it for my crest, sir : a flint axe, proper, with the 
 motto Semper Idem 'Always the same.' I accept the ass, sir. 
 It's a stubborn brute, and knows its own mind." 
 
 " Quite so ; it's naturally easy to know nothing. Take care 
 your heraldry doesn't turn out false, my dear lad, before you've 
 done. But come, we've talked nonsense enough for one day. 
 Rosamond ! Bless the boy ! " 
 
 This talk, whether it was truly nonsense, or whether there 
 were on one side of it more sense than the somewhat rusty philo- 
 sophy of that worthy magistrate, ^Eneas Fane, was carried on 
 in the kitchen garden of a hybrid kind of house overlooking the 
 sea. If the character of a house be any index to that of ita 
 occupants, then the character of the occupants of Cliff Cottage 
 must have been nondescript indeed. But more probably the 
 result was due to the conflicting views of many generations of 
 tenants or owners. The house had really been a cottage once 
 perhaps a fisherman's. Then the fisherman had drawn to 
 himself a neighbour, as was natural enough, seeing the conve 
 nience of the lofty outlook for catching first sight of a school 
 of mackerel, and the single cottage had grown into two. But 
 these had been prevented from forming the nucleus of a colony 
 by their transformation into one farm-house^ and as such it had 
 for long continued, with the addition of necessary out-houses 
 and offices. The farmer (as in former times happened to farmers 
 
 1 A.
 
 4 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 now and then) prosper -d, and the occasional ruins wrought by 
 winter storms were repaired with brick-work that very ill corres- 
 ponded with the original latb and plaster buttressed here and 
 there with atone. In another generation or two crept in a green- 
 house, a modern stable, and a yet more modern structural addi- 
 ti.m, fancifully termed Elizabethan had it been yet more modern 
 it would have been yet more fancifully named after Queen Anne. 
 Doubtless that also would come. Meanwhile Cliff Cot lag*- was 
 large, rambling, incongruous, with rooms as little on a level as 
 those of an Eastern palace, and with neither ground-plan or 
 elevation that an architect could understand. Of course it is 
 the fashion to admire such abnormal growths, but it was the 
 hereditary custom of the Fanes, a desperately Philistine race, to 
 deplore the inconveniences of the cottage, even while increasing 
 them for the disadvantage of posterity. And this was the more 
 inconsistent, because it woild have been so perfectly easy to make 
 a clean sweep of the wholt house, and to build another. But 
 then, on the other hand, the K\nes had not made their money by 
 investing it in bricks and mortar. They had been content to en- 
 large their elbow room from time to tinio, ;cording to immediate 
 and indispensable needs. Thus it happened that the stable 
 which formed an actual wing of the house, was the best devised 
 and best built portion of the whole. 
 
 All the parish of Crossmarsh had once known, but had also 
 completely forgotten, that ./Eneas Fane though that descendant 
 of the original fisherman had become squire and justice was not 
 the actual owner of the cottage and the krge farmlands of which 
 it served for the mansion. He was, in law, merely 1 he trustee 
 and guardian of his two nieces, Rosamond and Sophia, the mother- 
 less daughters and co-heiresses of his deceased elder brother, 
 Anthony. Under the circumstances, it was only natural that he, 
 being a middle-aged bachelor, should live with his nieces in the 
 capacity of second father, and should in time come to be popularly 
 treated as if he himself were the Squire of Crossmarsh that 
 delightfully unknown corner of the coast to which not even a 
 landscape painter had pioneered the path of iron till Rosamond 
 was fully five years old. He did not fall into the popular error, 
 however, as some men might have fallen, for the simple reason 
 that he was entirely indifferent to the adding of scrip to scrip and 
 of rood to rood, which had been the otherwise universal tendency 
 all the Fanes. Indifference, not virtue, made him an absolutely
 
 A PEAL QUEEN. 5 
 
 honest steward. His carelessness of his own interests extended 
 even to the future. No doubt Rosamond, or Sophia, or both, 
 might marry some day, and the cottage pass away from the 
 name of Fane; but, even so, he could not conceive of 
 circumstances under which a decent sort of nephew-in-law 
 would grudge space enough among those many rooms for a 
 certain cabinet, and for the easy-going uncle who served the 
 same. 
 
 For Oswald Hargrave, the son of the late rector of Crossmarsh, 
 had, even in his babyhood, learned to connect, indissolubly, the 
 idea of the tall, lean, hard-featured, dry old gentleman in 
 spectacles with a wonderful cabinet of bits of stone and battered 
 buttons. Probably ^Eneas Fane had not really been old when 
 Oswald first emerged from long clothes more than twenty years 
 ago. On the contrary, he could hardly have been middle-aged. 
 But the child's impression had been right, all the same. ./Eneas, 
 indifferent to the present, careless of the future, was absorbed in 
 the past, heart and soul. He was a born collector ; he had really 
 gathered a unique museum of coloured pebbles and pierced 
 farthings, until, in maturity, Celts were substituted for pebbles and 
 ancient coins for the disfigured effigies of the later Georges. T2w>* 
 was his way of displaying the inherited acquisitiveness .of *& 
 Fanes. He had been a pupil of Parson Hargrave, and his taste had 
 made him something of a scholar indeed, in these unscholarly 
 days, what would pass for a ripe and good one. And at last, when 
 his guess proved right that the Pix-Knoll, in Patchett's Piece, was 
 a veritable and possibly prolific barrow, the mission of his life was 
 found. He passed from the barrow to the cabinet, dealing justice 
 among his neighbours by the way. No it was absurd to dread 
 the advent of a nephew-in-law who would break such a life in two. 
 How could it be within the bounds of natural reason that Rosa- 
 mond or Sophia would marry a fiend ? 
 
 To Oswald, that cabinet had once been a fountain-head of infinite 
 delight and wonder. It had been a treat when his baby fingers 
 were allowed, on days of special favour, to grasp a flint weapon or 
 to touch the brightly-polished face of some king of Macedon. The 
 magician in spectacles, who ruled the cabinet, would even read him 
 lectures, fascinating with their crack-jaw words, hoping, it might 
 be, that he was educating a pair of shoulders on which his mantle 
 might hereafter descend not unworthily. But, alas, neither Rosa- 
 mond nor Sophia cared for any of these things ; especially Rosa-
 
 6 A REAL QUEEX. 
 
 mood. Did -Eneas ever quite forgive Oswald for dropping a 
 decadrachma into a chink of the floor because Rosamond tumbled 
 down the three ateps leading from the next room, and cried ? I 
 think he did, for none but rival and critical collectors were beyond 
 the pale of pardon. Nevertheless, as time went on, Oswald and 
 the cabinet fell more and more apart, and Oswald and Rosamond 
 more and more together, until until a schoolboy, of the mature 
 age of fifteen, who ought to have been above such girls' nonsense, 
 took to scrawling upon his slate " Rosamond," " Rosamond Fane," 
 " Rosamond Ilargrave ; " and all for a rather plain little girl of 
 ...\ -n f who could not even read. He was, nevertheless, boy enough 
 to prefer a slate for the purpose of the inscriptions, for the excel- 
 lent reason that he could at any moment easily rub them out again. 
 He never went beyond " R " upon a wall. 
 
 What Rosamond thought of this shy but stubborn adoration, 
 or even if she so much as knew of it, was her own affair. The 
 question of how early little girls begin to discover their power has 
 never yet been solved. At the same time, she could scarcely, at 
 her age and in the seclusion in which she had always lived, have 
 learned to think of that far-off dream called marriage with her old 
 playmate, the good-looking young gentleman farmer from tbe 
 next-door parish of Windgates, who had studied at an agricultural 
 coHege, and looked so grave and talked so wisely. He was like a 
 grown up brother, or a young uncle, or an intimate cousin ; a part 
 of the daily life she had known. Only, .if he had been any of 
 these, he would surely have kissed her now and then, and Oswald 
 Ilargrave had never committed such an act of sacrilege, except once, 
 when he at twelve had been commanded to kiss the baby, and had 
 gone through tbe process sorely against his principles and his will. 
 I dare not say that her eyes had never caught a glimpse of the 
 nature of Oswald's resolve ; but I will say it as nearly as I dare. 
 For the rest, Oswald Ilargrave, though far from able to keep a wife 
 like a co-heiress of Fanes, and with the bulk of his capital spent 
 upon an as yet unproductive education, was worth looking at with 
 older than fifteen-year-old eyes. Possibly Rosamond's thought 
 him already on the verge of middle-age ; and it may be that he 
 really looked a little older than his by no means excessive number 
 of yean. He was a brave looking young Englishman, stalwart, 
 and the owner of a becoming friendship with wind and weather, 
 whom fair face served for the clear window-pane of a very honest 
 heart and a sufficient share of brains. For, though /Eneas Fane
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 7 
 
 had called his old friend's son an ass, he did not mean anything of 
 the kind except so far, indeed, as a young man must needs be of 
 that persuasion who prefers a little girltoa flint axe that had been 
 made before Boadicea was Queen. 
 
 This was the state of things at Crosamarsh-by-the-Sea on the 
 day after Rosamond became fifteen. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 She stood upon the charmed height 
 Between the vales of Day and Night, 
 
 And sighed. " But all in vain 
 My secret path I strive to seek, 
 While clouds conceal the mountain-peak, 
 
 And mists are o'er the plain." 
 
 Yet, who may stand in doubtful wise, 
 'Twixt clouded earth and cloudier skies ? 
 
 On moments hangs the way, 
 By Chance's chasms creeps the path 
 She dares, unknowing if she hath 
 
 Fared forth toward Night or Day. 
 
 BUT, as well as a Rosamond, there was a Sophy a very good 
 little girl, with wits as quick as lightning, and two eyes 
 which only wanted to be a little less blue in order to be as 
 sharp as needles. It was she, not her sister, who happened to be 
 looking out of the precise window which had a full view of the 
 kitchen garden up and down which Uncle ^Eneas and young Mr. 
 Hargrave were pacing. Somehow it always did happen so that, 
 when anything happened, great or little, Sophy, by the merest 
 accident, chanced to be at the only window which overlooked them. 
 The visitor was welcome, for Oswald had never been shy with 
 Sophy, and she ran off to let her sister share in her piece of good 
 news. But, on her way through that devious house, she chanced 
 to pass another window, and that happened to be the only window 
 with a clear view of the entrance to the carriage drive at the pre- 
 cise moment when Mr. and Mrs. Pitcairn, the Rector and his wife, 
 were entering. Sophy did not care for the Rector one quarter of 
 a straw, nor for the Rector's wife more than three ; so that it was 
 with mingled feelings that she continued her flight, seeing nothing 
 more by the way whereby it was proved to demonstration that 
 there was nothing more to see. 
 
 From the second window, she ran along a dark and narrow white- 
 washed passage, full of bulges and beams, then plunged down 
 three steps into a sort of lumber room with a skylight, and then
 
 8 A REAL 
 
 truck with her fist a solemn blow upon a close! door. Count- 
 ing three, aloud, she struck two blows ; then counted five, and 
 truck three blows. Then she waited to see what would come of 
 this somewhat complicated manner of tapping at a door. 
 
 Hut Sophy was certainly not of the sort to wait long for any- 
 thing ; so, after a minute, she showered a rain of raps, and called 
 out, 
 
 "Rosamund ! aren't you there ? But I know you are, for the 
 door's locked. Let me in I've got such heaps of news ! " 
 
 Presently she was answered by the grating of a rusty key in an 
 exceedingly stiff lock, and the door was opened, showing the 
 interior of a loft not unlike what a prison cell of ancient times may 
 have been. It was gloomy, being lighted only by a barred and 
 latticed window, nearly as high as the ceiling : the walls and floor 
 were bare, and it was furnished only with a chair, a table, and a 
 thick heap of straw piled up in one corner. 
 
 " When will you give the signals right, Sophy ? " asked Rosa- 
 mond not impatiently, but with sad reproof in her tones. 
 *' Didn't we settle that three knocks three between the first and 
 second, and five between the second and third, was to mean 
 ything all right, and nob'xty wants you ? "' 
 
 " Of course I know that but 1 made, indeed I did, five no, 
 three, betwvt n tin- lirst and second, and live no, that was three 
 between the second and third ; and I know that's the sign for 
 ' Come out at once important news ! ' " 
 
 " Oh, Sophy," said Rosamond, " you must be more careful you 
 must indeed. Just think what would happen, if the enemy if 
 signals were to be mixed up in a war ! We might as well have 
 none at all. Before we go to bed I'll make you go over all the 
 secret signs all over again. But what is the news ? And I'm so 
 busy must I come down P " 
 
 Sophy was already pretty ; but Rosamond, the elder sister by a 
 year, was not beautiful yet, although there was no reason why she 
 should not, some two or three years hence, wake up one morning 
 and find herself or go out some evening and be found beautiful. 
 Meanwhile, it was perfectly clear that she was magnificently alive. 
 When out of doors, as every fisherman in Crossmarsh knew, her 
 dark grey eyes were as good as telescopes for the horizon, and as 
 microscopes for every tiniest caprice of nature among the rock 
 pools. She ought to have been an invaluable niece to a collector 
 of the caprices of nature and art like Uncle ^Eneas ; but, alas, she
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 9 
 
 was nothing of the kind. She was content to see things, and dis- 
 liked gathering them. Though not a downright brunette, she Avaa 
 by no means so fair as became her historical name, and her com- 
 plexion, not as yet clear enough for beauty, had no suggestion of 
 the lilies of her namesake, nor her hair of the gold of the rose, 
 about which the sea breezes had much to say, there was something ; 
 her hair was brown and heavy, not to say at present shaggy, with 
 an undertint of chestnut ; a good colour, and not too common. The 
 lips had much of the child left in them, and had yet to form ; they 
 promised to become the ouiward signs of a large and generous 
 nature. She was well grown for her age, as the phrase is, and 
 might remain at her present height for good and all without dis- 
 advantage. For she had already obtained a graceful and stately 
 bearing at once erect and free ; Diana herself, at whatever age 
 among goddesses answers to mortal fifteen, must have been curi- 
 ously like Rosamond. Brotherless as they were, there had grown 
 up between Sophy and Rosamond something of the relation of 
 girl and boy, for, where but two are in company, the one must 
 serve and the other must rule. In this case the ruler was unques- 
 tionably Rosamond. Sophy was all blue-eyed littleness and liveli- 
 ness, with a suggestion of the kitten, both in its softness and in its 
 peculiar style of mischief; but if Rosamond was in any sense femi- 
 ninely feline, it was in the lioness's way. And it is good for a girl 
 to have a touch of the boy in her, just as it is good for a boy to 
 have a touch of the nature of the girl. 
 
 " Yes, you must come down indeed ! " answered Sophy. 
 " Oswald's here ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Rosamond ; " that all ? Sophy, you are incorrigible ! 
 Just on the very point of raising the murderer's ghost, and to be 
 interrupted for nothing, and the ghost rising so nicely, too. No, 
 Sophy. If it's only Oswald, I don't think I'll come down. He 
 can't want me it's only that new flint thing that's brought him, 
 you mny depend. We'll have a new signal for Oswald. If he asks 
 after me, tell him I'm particularly engaged." 
 
 " With the ghost of a murderer ? " asked Sophy, simply ; but per- 
 haps not quite so simply as it seemed. For she represented the 
 humour of the household in her blue-eyed way. 
 
 " For goodness sake no ! " exclaimed Rosamond, colouring to 
 the hair. " You might just as well let him in to all our secret 
 signs. We understand, Sophy, but, when you come to know the 
 world, you'll find that people like Oswald only laugh at such things ;
 
 I A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 and it isn't nice to be laughed at. He'd call me a witch and 
 and all sorts of things." 
 
 " Yes, I think very likely he would," said Sophy. " And the 
 ghost is it very dreadful ? Is it really rising well ? " 
 
 " You'll see ! I only knew it haunted me all last night at least 
 till I fell asleep till I really thought I should never close my eyes. 
 You see, I had committed such a terrible murder " 
 
 " The ghost, you mean P " 
 
 " Of course before it was a ghost, you know that what came 
 nfi.Twards But I can't tell you now. No. I can't leave the 
 ghost now. He's just coming out of his grave, and he might go in 
 afrain if I went away, and then I should have to begin to raise him 
 all over again." 
 
 It is lamentable that Sophy was not of an imaginative nature 
 for thus was thrown away a picture that more than one of those 
 few painters who had as yet discovered Crossmarsh and Wind- 
 frates and all that country would have thought worth risking an 
 academic rejection for. There was the witch's magic chamber 
 dark,j ilimt, secret, cell-like, as such chambers ought to be. Only 
 enough sunlight came through the lattice to bring out the gloom 
 of the background, and, by leaving the corners untouched, to leave 
 an unexplored further region of darkness, in which the fancy 
 might work spells at will. A veritable ghostly outline wasaffordel 
 by the heap of straw at any rate, any ordinary brush could easily 
 conjure up the suggestion out of a material whereof ghosts have 
 been so often made. And there, at the entrance, framed by the 
 black oaken doorway, stood the witch herself, with the pale day 
 of the skylight bearing full upon her face a wild young witch, 
 viisturbed in the midst of her ghastly '.uumtations by a smiling 
 blue-eyed child. 
 
 "Oh ! but won't the ghost wait ? r vsKt<l Sophy. " And you've 
 been with him all day ! " 
 
 " Xo ; he can't wait, " said Rosamond, " and 7 can't waa " 
 
 " Then he's a selfish creature, " said Sophy. " Can't you tell him 
 that if there's one thing I hate in all the world, it's having to talk 
 to those Pitoairns ? And you do it so nicely, and I've so much to 
 how Oswald. Oh, Rosamond, I don't like your ghost to-day ! " 
 
 " The Pitcairns P Are they here too ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I'm sorry I said it now. Of course, if you -wouldn't 
 come down to Oswald, you won't for the Pitcairns. Well, what 
 shall 1 ay about why you can't conn P "
 
 A REAL QUEEN. il 
 
 Rosamond looked lingeringly behind her, then up at the sky- 
 light, and pushed back her tumbled mane. 
 
 " Of course it's dreadfully provoking : but I do really want to 
 see the Pitcairns," said she. And she meant the Pitcairns, and 
 did not mean Oswald Hargrave, for all that she made that pause 
 before the name so false a witness a tell-tale pause may be. 
 Whatever the nature of her secret incantations, the heart of the 
 witch was too honestly absorbed in them to desire the company 
 of an earthly farmer who knew no magic but that of phosphates 
 and steam boilers. But there were reasons why Mr. Pitcairn, 
 though reputed a bore, represented to the mind of Rosamond the 
 great, wide, unknown, wonderful world that lay beyond Crossmarsh 
 nay, even beyond Windgates : beyond everywhere. " I have 
 a question," she said, " that I want to ask Mr. Pitcairn. I want 
 to ask him if, when he was a missionary, he ever saw the upas 
 tree." 
 
 " Oh ! that will be delightful! " cried Sophy. 
 
 " I can take Oswald into the garden, and uncle can show Mrs. 
 Pitcairn his cabinets, and you can talk to Mr. Pitcairn about the 
 upas tree. They're all safe to stop to tea, and that will suit us all. 
 Rosamond, you will get the ghost to wait till after tea ? " 
 
 Rosamond looked down some distance down at her sister, 
 and then, for the first time, smiled. She had, at any rate, laid one 
 ghost that of temper. Sophy, after all, was dearer to her even 
 than her murderer's spirit, and the more masculine nature, as a 
 matter of course, gave way. I have said that Rosamond was the 
 one who nature ruled. And even so do men rule by obeying her. 
 If there be one grain of paradox in the relation between Sophy 
 and Rosamond, between man and woman, between mind and 
 matter, Science shall decide. 
 
 The scene in the witch's cave had not occupied many minutes 
 but still, with its necessary sequence of a slight toilette, long 
 enough to have assembled the visitors in the drawing-room. Ex- 
 cept as regarded the staples, there was a decidedly old-fashioned air 
 about everybody and everything about Cliff Cottage which unmis- 
 takably embraced its two young mistresses. Both Rosamond and 
 Sophy were certainly what is called old-fashioned young people, 
 each in her separate and different way. Indeed, it would be sur- 
 prising had it not been so, seeing how completely out of the common 
 air of the living modern world their bringing up had been all 
 in all to one another, and otherwise companionless, save for one
 
 ,a A KEAL 
 
 antiquarian uncle and a grave, grown-up young man. Even in their 
 talk* with one another, simple and unaffected as they were, they 
 had developed certain mannerisms, which might strike outsiders 
 as being quaintly set and lormal. Sophy, in spite of her own 
 individuality, very considerably reflected Rosamond when in com- 
 V :my, and the contrast between her own self and Rosamond's reflec- 
 i Mti made her often appear the more singular child of the two. The 
 grown-up sayings and the long, sometimes even pedantic words 
 were odder in her than in the elder and statelier Kosamond, who 
 might at times pass almost as a real woman for an hour together. 
 Oswald wondered sometimes whether Kosamond had ever been a 
 real child sometimes whether she would ever cease to be one. 
 And nobody else ever studied her at all. 
 
 This, however, is to stray from the drawing-room, where Uncle 
 ..Kneas and his visitors were gathered. The host himself was very 
 decidedly and appropriately old fashioned, in accordance with 
 his surroundings, for it was full two generations since the Fanes of 
 Crossmarsh had bought any new furniture worth mentioning. The 
 room was therefore as little like the results of modern fashion, and 
 u. much like what modem fashion fancies itself to be restoring, as 
 can possibly be imagined. Art was utterly absent, and chance 
 reigned supreme that chance who alone is possessed of really good 
 taste in such matters. Moreover, the place had its traditions, 
 which Rosamond and Sophy accepted as matters of hereditary 
 faith, without any insight into the aesthetics of them. The window 
 waa open, but the air of the room was mysteriously fragrant with 
 the forgotten mysteries of pot-pourri instead of the stinging scent 
 of the sea shore. The frame was ready, but empty ; and, when 
 Kosamond entered, with Sophy's hand in hers, the picture, so Os- 
 wald thought, breathed into being, and the frame became full. 
 
 Oswald was loungitg in the window ; Uncle tineas was display- 
 ing the ancient British hatchet to a plain little old lady, in a real 
 bonnet and flat grey curls; and the Rector, a burly clergyman, 
 evidently considerably younger than his wife, was apparently de- 
 livering a lecture to the world at large. The two girls had not 
 I..-I-M enough strangers in their lives to have caught the shyness 
 that only seeing more and more strangers can partly cure. Sophy 
 at once left her sister for Oswald, and Kosamond, taking a quick 
 Lisa from Mrs. Pitcairn, and a beaming handshake from "the Rec- 
 tor, without interrupting the discourse, settled herself quietly on 
 au out-cf-the-way sofa. Oswald could certainly have gone to her,
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 13 
 
 but he was Sophy's prisoner ; and, though bold enough to Uncle 
 ./Eneas, that very boldness had rendered him embarrassed before 
 the girl. However, he would speak to her presently ; and, mean- 
 while, any common, public speech would be out of keeping with 
 his humour. And besides, there seemed, to his eyes, always some- 
 thing new about Rosamond. Whenever he saw her again, after 
 however short an absence, she had spread out some new and unex- 
 pected charm and a new charm meant a change that required 
 fresh study before adding to his heart's familiar picture. 
 
 For his love for this child was still childlike ; he foresaw the 
 passion that it would become some day, and meanwhile, lived in an 
 air of conscious hope, which is the purest air that a man can 
 breathe. He, rightly or wrongly, reverenced in Rosamond the 
 woman who was yet to be, so soon as the unapproachable angel of 
 the bud should give place to the visible and gracious angel of the 
 open flower. These were not his conscious words, but they 
 were his thoughts ; and it did not end in sentiment, but in the 
 fixed resolve he had spoken to Uncle ^Eneas that he, who alone 
 had perceived the beauty of the bud, should alone gather the 
 flower. That he did not wholly understand what was hidden and 
 growing in the closed petals he perfectly well knew. But he 
 was content to be aware of mysteries, without a thought of 
 forcing the petals apart before their time. And so, where 
 Rosamond was, it was Oswald, for all his age and knowledge, 
 who was shy. 
 
 " As you're so curious in axes, Fane," said Mr. Pitcairn, in his 
 rich voice, by which an Ulster man would have been reminded 
 of his allegiance to the pious and immortal memory of the 
 Prince of Orange, " you must come over some day soon drop in to 
 pot-luck, you know and see some of mine ; I've got axes aye, 
 and some with the blood on them still ! " 
 
 Uncle -<Eneas smiled superior, and stroked his own last new 
 treasure gently a singularly perfect specimen of the times before 
 flint had wholly yielded to steel. 
 
 " I daresay you mast have gathered some curious things," said 
 he. " But they are the work of savages, after all. Now this 
 how old this is, heaven knows." 
 
 " And what were any of us but savages, before Cromwell ? " 
 asked the Rector. " Come, Miss Rosamond, you've learned your 
 books well enough for that, I dare say. Now I like natives my- 
 self, because I know how to deal with them. Maria can tell you
 
 , 4 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 that: I forget, though the savages were in my first wife's time. 
 Anvhow, the could trll." 
 
 "Do you like .Mr. Pitcairn, Oswald ?" whispered Sophy, in the 
 window. " Because if you do " 
 
 - Hi.- fir*t Mr.. Pitcairn," said the second, as if the allusion, and 
 the error, had been the most delicate and natural in the world, 
 * was the lady who shared the earlier portion of Mr. Pitcairn's life 
 w hen he was working among the South Seas. I never had the 
 pleasure of her acquaintance, hut I have her portrait among the 
 other curiosities at home. She was not exactly what in England, 
 at least, would be considered beautiful, but she must have been 
 interesting, decidedly. She, her picture, has an extraordinary 
 darkntsa of complexion, and there is a singular crispness about 
 the hair which is quite unique in its way. I consider it one of 
 my misfortunes that I was never acquainted with the first Mrs. 
 Pitcairn." 
 
 Having thus in the sweetest manner, executed condign vengeance 
 upon the Rector, the second Mrs. Pitcairn, whose money had paid 
 for his presentation to Crossmarsh, embraced the whole company 
 with a contented smile. 
 
 " Do you detest Mrs. Pitcairn, Oswald?" whispered Sophy again. 
 " Because if you don't " 
 
 " Hut the question is, Pitcairn," said Uncle JEne&s, ever ready 
 to effect a diversion in the direction of peace and harmony, " how 
 you did deal with the savages in the South Seas. I must say it 
 would puzzle me, magistrate as I am, and with savages enough in 
 Crossmarsh, and in Windgates to " 
 
 " How did 7 deal with them f " asked the Rector, upon whom 
 the delicate satire of his richer half had been entirely thrown away 
 " why, as easy as I looked at them. 1 took the natives one by one, 
 man to man. I kept a lot of blue glass beads in one tail pocket, 
 and a bit of stick, with eight ounces of lead at the end, in the other. 
 Then I preached at him just as hard as I could, till I'd done. If 
 he gave in before I was hoarse, I gave him a handful of beads ; if he 
 didn't, I took out the bit of stick and made him feel reason. I made 
 more converts that way than any man on the station ; and there 
 *asn't one I made but stuck to his guns and turned out well." 
 
 Tm, Sophy," whispered Oswald back, "yes, I think I do rather 
 like Mr. Pitcairn." 
 
 " But did they never preach back, or strike back ? " asked Rosa- 
 mond. " I don't think you'd have converted me that way."
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 15 
 
 r Certainly not, my dear ; I should have begun on you with the 
 beads." 
 
 " You must not take everything Mr. Pitcairn says seriously," 
 said Mrs. Pitcairn. " Of course he does not mean that he really 
 converted the heathen of the South Seas with those sort of things, 
 But you know his way." 
 
 " But I do mean it, Maria," said the ex-missionary ; "I do mean 
 it, every word. I used every device but rum. To that I never 
 would give in. I just took hold of a semi-brute, an3 by main force 
 I made a man of him, or as much of a man as might be. If I'd 
 taken any other tack I should only have made a humbug of him. 
 Perhaps I didn't make quite so many bad Christians as some did, 
 but 1 know I made a good many decent savages. And that, I 
 maintain, is the only way to begin. Treat your native like a child, 
 tell him to be good, and tell him how ; and if he won't obey you, 
 knock him down till he's tired." 
 
 " Didn't any native ever try to convert you," asked Uncle yEneas, 
 " on the same lines ? " 
 
 " Often often ; but the same man never tried again. But about 
 that new old chopper of yours, Fane. What barbarians our 
 ancestors must have been before Cromwell. My savages 
 would be ashamed to turn out a weapon like that. You 
 should see my lances and knives, as I said before. It would 
 make another chapter for your book. By-the-way how's 
 that getting on? Have you found out who was buried in 
 Fix-Knoll ? " 
 
 " Ah," said Uncle ./Eneas, with a shake of the head, and a wise 
 smile, " you've hit the question there. When the world reads the 
 twenty-seventh chapter of the History of the Barrow in Cross- 
 marsh, commonly called Pix-Knoll for which I am collecting the 
 materials at this moment, I think the world will stare. Think of 
 it every pre-historic theory that has ever been invented, overturned 
 in an instant by things like this that I hold in my hand ! I can- 
 not but feel myself justified in thinking that a special Providence 
 caused such an over-flowing mine of pre-historic discovery as Pix- 
 Knoll to be discovered on my land." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Fane ! " protested Mrs. Pitcairn. 
 
 " Why not ? If Providence, as we believe, watches over history 
 why not over the records also ? As I was saying to Moldwarp 
 only the other day, if he could only find in that Barrow a Phreni- 
 cian sun-dial, of a certain peculiar form, my theory would be totus
 
 |6 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 teret atque rotundut that ia to say, Mrs. Pit cairn, without a flaw. 
 Yes, aa sure u we are sitting here, llome herself was a colouy 
 not from Troy, but from Pix-Knoll." 
 
 " A strange fellow, that Moldwarp," said the Rector. 
 
 " I'm told," said Mrs. Pitcairn, " that he works in the Barrow 
 on Sundays. But, surely, that can't be true." 
 
 u I know nothing about that," said Mr. Fane, with some guilty 
 baate. " He ia certainly an extraordinary man. With no educat ion , 
 and, when he came here, without even local knowledge, he can 
 hardly walk ten yards without coming upon some most important 
 relic of antiquity. He brings me everything l:e finds that strikes 
 him as out of the way, and it's wonderful how seldom he brings me 
 what isn't worth it weight in gold. And yet with all his talent 
 for finding, he learns nothing. I reasoned out once that there 
 must have been a coin of King Caractacus in that barrow; muni 
 have been, or else a most important piece of evidence would have 
 been wanting to my theory. Now nobody ever found, that I 
 heard of, a coin of King Caractacus anywhere. Well, about a 
 month after, Moldwarp finds, in the barrow, what turned out to 
 be a coin of King Caractacus beyond doubt or question. And yet 
 Moldwarp can't be got to call him anything but the King o' 
 Carrots to this day ! If he could only find that Phoenician sun- 
 dial but, well, one can't have everything." 
 
 "Too true," said Mrs. Pitcairn, solemnly. "Yes; I found 
 that out long ago. And it geta truer and truer every 
 day." 
 
 " And a good thing too," said the Rector. " A good big want's 
 the best thing a man can owe. I only wish I had one myself, 
 but with such a parish as Crossmarsh, and such a wife as Maria, 
 faith, I'm afraid it's past praying for. And what's the result ? 
 I'm the only miserable soul in the room. There's you, Fane, 
 wanting a Phoenician sun-dial ; and when you've got it, and 
 Moldwarp has drunk the price of it, he'll be all the worsj, and 
 you none the better. There's Hargrave being a farmer, he 
 wants wet weather, since it's fine ; that's the calling for a man to 
 enjoy himself in, for it's all ' I want ' from year's end to year's 
 end. There's Maria : she wants new furniture for the drawing- 
 room ; so, as I like to make her happy, I won't let her lose her 
 want too soon. There's Sophy, wanting a new doll. And here's 
 Rosamond, wanting wanting no; I don't know what MLs9 
 Rosamond wants, unless shell tell."
 
 A REAL QUEEN. IJ 
 
 " Pooh," said Uncle ^Eneas, remembering what Oswald wanted 
 of Eosamond, and glad of an opportunity for once more setting 
 his foot down, " pooh Rosamond wanted the purple jar." 
 
 " And she got it too," said the Rector, " and made another 
 point to my moral thereby ! But she wasn't the only Rosamond, 
 Fane. There was a fair Rosamond, who wanted who got, any 
 way what she choose, and wasn't the happier for that, anyhow. 
 And there was Rosamond who was made to drink wine out of her 
 father's skull. And there's was Charles Lamb's Rosamond, poor 
 thing. By-the-way, what a queer thing it is, Fane, that all the 
 Rosamonds, in history or fiction, or drama, are always unlucky, or 
 miserable, or no better than they should be, and come to bad 
 ends ! That's queer ; and then they ask, "What's in a name ? 
 Faith, I'll give old Moldwarp five shillings, if he'll find me a 
 Rosamond that didn't come to a bad end, either through some- 
 body else's fault, or her own." 
 
 " Oh, Maurice ! " exclaimed his wife, " how can you say such 
 dreadful things ? And with the girl in the room ! It's enough 
 to frighten her ! " 
 
 And, when they came to think of it, it did, as their exceedingly 
 unpolished specimen of a rector had said, seem very strange that 
 so graceful a name should have proved so invariably unfortunate 
 to its bearers. It struck Oswald, though he scorned superstition, 
 more than merely unpleasantly. Why could not that vulgar 
 Irish parson from the South Seas hold his blundering tongue ? 
 But love and superstition are substance and shadow, and he 
 racked his memory for a Rosamond of good omen in vain. 
 
 " Oswald ! " said Sophy, pulling his arm, " is that true ? " 
 
 Rosamond herself felt a curious sensation, as if a spell had 
 suddenly been cast upon her. Of course, it is a fine thing to have 
 a tragic destiny people make one the heroine of its histories 
 and romances but she had rather liked her name hitherto, and 
 now it seemed to turn against her, and to put out a poisoned sting. 
 Perhaps ninety-nine girls would have felt nothing of the sort, and 
 have taken the Rector's awkward chaff with a laugh. But 
 Rosamond chanced to be the hundredth girl. 
 
 " Then Mr. Pitcairn, I will be the first fortunate Rosamond 
 said she, flushing. 
 
 " And the first good one, my dear," said Mrs. Pitcairn, with 
 more kindness than her small sub-acid manner would have led one 
 to expect from her. 
 
 fc
 
 ,8 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 " There, then, you have found your want," said the Rector, 
 feeling that he had been making some sort of mistake somewhere 
 and somehow. " So you want " 
 
 "Thi-re, that'll do," said Uncle JBneas, " don't tease the girl. 
 How should she know what she wante at her age P The thing's 
 absurd." It almost seemed as if he were out of temper about 
 i.ing leas than an injury to a Celt. But Oswald knew 
 why : and, feeling through sympathy that she was feeling 
 strangely, though it was impossible that he or any other reason- 
 able person should guess the cause, he left Sophy, and seated 
 himself by Rosamond. 
 
 "I think I'll tell you a story," said Mr. Pitcairn, d propos, as 
 it seemed, of nothing. " When I first went out as a missionary, 
 I got acquainted with a curious kind of a customer named Green. 
 He'd knocked about for years in those parts, and certainly knew 
 a lot more about the tracks and the natives than any other 
 Englishman. By the way, it was from him I got one or two of 
 those little wrinkles we were talking about a minute ago. 
 Some people said he was a liar, and some said he wasn't but 
 though he had unquestionably- seen strange things, it's equally 
 true that there were strange things to be seen. He wasn't much 
 of a Christian, but he wasn't a bad sort for a man of the world, 
 and we got on very well, on the whole, though I was uppish in 
 those days, and thought well, never mind. Anyhow, we 
 agreed to differ : and there are worse sorts of friendship than 
 that, by a long way. One day we were taking a walk along a 
 cliff, when I saw distinctly, with my naked eye, an outline of 
 coast that I had never yet seen with a spy-glass. I suppose 
 it was some effect of refraction, and pointed it out to Green. It 
 was a low, dark blue line with white specks of breakers here 
 and there. I shall never forget his reply. He told me that to 
 that coast, tonly visible, as I had guessed, in certain abnormal 
 states of the air, he had once gone I forgot from where years 
 ago. He had found an island, I forgot how large, where no 
 European foot had ever stepped, but where he had found a 
 civilization yes, a civilization that puts our highest dreams to 
 shame. Everybody was good, and everybody was happy. I 
 suppose there were no Rosamonds there." 
 
 Oswald's eyes were secretly upon Rosamond, towards whom his 
 open declaration of his life's plan had inspired him with deeper 
 feelizgs. She was listening intently, as a child to an Arabian
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 19 
 
 voyage. At her name be felt her start, and he took her hand, while 
 Sophy came from the window, and laid her head upon his knee. 
 
 " Green was not well up in theology," continued the Rector, 
 " and all he could gather was that the people were expecting a 
 kind of natural death, or national euthanasia, to be preceded by 
 the reign of a woman from over the sea. Their institutions, oddly 
 enough, were the exact contrary of ours and yet they were 
 happy ! I'll tell you all about that later on. They treated Green 
 well, but wouldn't let him go, for fear he should discover the 
 existence of the island, though how it had never been discovered 
 before was certainly a mystery : unless, indeed, Green was lying. 
 But he got home-sick, though where his home was he would have 
 been puzzled to say ; and at last he persuaded them to let him 
 do. But it was on condition that he would never name the 
 place to mortal man or woman, or give the faintest clue to 
 its discovery." 
 
 " Yet he told you ? " asked Oswald, who certainly hesitated 
 between acceptance of the general reputation of Mr. Green and 
 a suspicion that the Rector was inventing an allegory, after the 
 style of the vision of Mirza. 
 
 "A man must tell somebody," said the Rector. "He had no 
 Maria, so he told me. Of course I said I'd boat over my beads 
 and my bit of stick the very next day. Don't, said Green the 
 people swore like Genii in the Arabian nights, that the next 
 foreigner who set foot on their shores, they'd kill him, and the 
 next, and the next, and so on, taking for granted that Green had 
 betrayed them ; and they'd no more look at my beads or care for 
 my stick, than if they were Britons and not half so much, said 
 he. They'd turn up their noses at our crown jewels, and were 
 proof against words and blows. However, he'd said he teach me 
 the language, so that if I wanted martyrdom I might go under 
 the best advantages. I got as far as the eighty-ninth letter 
 of the alphabet, and to my shame, gave in. Whether Green 
 invented that alphabet, as he went on to keep me from finding 
 out Green, I don't venture to say. That nameless island, with 
 its extraordinary civilization, has never, I believe, been discovered 
 to this day : and Green disappeared, I'm sorry to say, under a 
 cloud. But, for all that, his account of everything was beyond 
 invention, and invariably held together: especially about the 
 expected woman, who was to bring everything to an end. How- 
 ever, the most wonderful part of the story is still to come, and 
 
 2 A
 
 20 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 the moral. One day Green was carried before the Sultan, or 
 whatever they called him " 
 
 Boom ! It was the sound of a heavy gun from the landside. 
 
 
 Mrs. Pitcairn started from her slumber over a thrice-told tale 
 with a broken snort; Uncle tineas rubbed from his eyes the 
 dream of a Phoenician sun-dial ; Sophy slept soundly mi, with 
 ad still on Oswald's knee. It was monstrously impolite, 
 but the weather was warm, and the Reefer's yarn was uiiques- 
 I ionably dull as well as preposterously absurd ; it was a parable) 
 that seemed likely to end in a sermon. Only Oswald and Rosa- 
 mond wer j wide awake ; Rosamond alone was listening to the 
 Rector with all her heart in her ears, as if the tale were fascina- 
 tingly true. The heavy "boom !" seemed to mark a crisis : and 
 she also started, and look round. 
 
 " Whate that?" said the Rector. "I didn't know we had 
 artillery here." 
 
 " It's a convict escaped from Lowmoor ! " exclaimed Uncle 
 jEneas, rising as if at a sudden call of duty. "That's what that 
 means by George 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 He'd find you almost Everything, 
 Prom Venus' Zone to Saturn's Ring : 
 Each itray that ever Earth or Sky had 
 From Jest's lost Point to vanlsht Pleiad 
 The Crown that Caesar ne'er put on ; 
 The Crystal Shoon of Cendrillon ; 
 Lart Bummer's Rose; lost Lover's Vow, 
 Or JMJ that killed the ancient Cow ; 
 The perisht Book* that we assign 
 The Titus Livins Patavine, 
 And eke the Secret of the Rune 
 That's writ on t'other side the Moon 
 And Wand of Witch, and Drug of Hakim 
 And if he cannot find, he'll make 'em, 
 
 THE inland part of the parish of Crossmarsh is not beau- 
 tiful. The cliffs and bays are magnificent, but the moors 
 leading up from them are barren and dull at least for 
 all those who do not understand the beauty of Nature nude. The 
 dullest and the most barren part of all, and also the most solitary 
 of all, is distinguished by a long mound rising sharply and clearly 
 from the Downs, in shape and size suggesting the grave of Goliath. 
 On a closer approach one used to find the mound cut through 
 in three trenches, one from end to end, and two, at equi-
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 21 
 
 distant intervals, crosswise. And this was the wonderful 
 Barrow of Crossmarsh, vulgarly called, from immemorial times, 
 Pix-Knoll. 
 
 This was the centre to which the mystery wh ich enfolds the pre- 
 historic history of Man was to be traced back and thus revealed. 
 Enthusiastic hobby-rider as he was, Uncle JEneas had been guilty 
 of no sort of exaggeration in stating that extraordinary, nay, in- 
 credible, results, had been already obtained from Pix-Knoll. For 
 full exposition Uncle vEneas, like a prudent antiquary, who for- 
 sees a contest with all British and all German learning, was biding 
 his time. He knew that Cliff Cottage contained a collection of 
 startling evidences of a startling theory that no museum in Europe 
 could approach, much less rival : but, a true collector, his own 
 satisfaction was all-sufficient for him until the day should come 
 nay, it would be sufficient even if that day never came. For the 
 present his notes and materials were in too chaotic a condition 
 to be of use to any but the owner, wherefore there is as yet 
 no occasion to make a critical examination of a theory that made 
 Tyre and Sidon colonies from Crossmarsh, and England the mother 
 instead of the daughter of the world. 
 
 Rosamond and Sophy held prime places in the museum of Uncle 
 ^Eneas's heart : but Uncle yEneas's soul was buried in the barrow. 
 Uncle yEneas had been fortunate in his barrow, but thrice fortu- 
 nate in Silver Moldwarp, the man who found Everything. 
 
 Silver Moldwarp was indefatigable in the search for evidence 
 that he did not understand. It was true that Sundays as well as 
 week days found him in or about Pix-Knoll, and it was in one of 
 the cross cuts that he was sitting now not exactly searching, but 
 working hard, though the sun was blazing. In the corner of the 
 cut he had chosen he was invisible to all eyes save that of the sun. 
 He was a lean, wiry, undersized man, of an indefinite age, one who 
 could never have been really young, and seemed incapable of ever 
 becoming really old. He was dressed in a rough, almost ragged 
 suit of clothes, in which elegance was recklessly sacrificed to ease. 
 In spite of the heat, his head, chest, and arms were bare, displaying 
 a superabundance of hair and muscle. The man's strength was 
 evidently out of all proportion to his size, and very likely to his 
 age. His face was extraordinarily full of character, considering 
 that he did not appear to be above the condition of a common 
 labourer, if indeed he stood so high. Aquiline features, worthy of a 
 field marshal and a full, low, projecting brow, befitting a lawyer
 
 2* A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 or an engineer, were flatly contradicted by a pair of comically 
 twinkling eye*, suggesting that union of cunning aud folly which 
 const itute the buffoon. The mouth, in its character, though partly 
 hidden by a scrubby moustache and half beard, agreed with the 
 eye*, rather than with the nose and brow, so far as it could be 
 seen. It was weak, and hung half-open, displaying teeth that were 
 the reverse of ornamental. Yet to come at once to the essential 
 matter he looked an honest fellow, despite bis want of facial 
 harmony. 
 
 Sophy, with the unreasonable impulsiveness that characterised 
 her opinions of her fellow creatures, had said, at first sight, that 
 she did not like Mr. Moldwarp ; and to this opinion, she 
 had stuck, with consistent obstinacy. In this opinion, however, 
 she stood almost alone. There was a tacit and mutual avoidance 
 between him and the Rectory, but then the Rectory did not guide 
 the parish in social matters. So far as these were concerned, the 
 " Feathers " beat the Church hollow : for even the ploughmen and 
 fishermen of Crossmarsh, as became the proven fathers of civilized 
 humanity, had certain aristocratic sympathies, and felt that the 
 parson was somehow too much one of themselves to take the com- 
 mand. And Silver Moldwarp had proved a real acquisition 
 not only to the customers of the " Feathers." He was a capital 
 customer himself while it would have paid the landlord to 
 have kept him in drink for nothing, or even to have 
 given him a trifle for what he consumed. He could do 
 wonderful things. He could make a jack-knife disappear from a 
 fisherman's fist into a ploughman's hat, and play a score more 
 tricks, which, being coarser, were even better calculated to please 
 their simple minds. Better still, he could break a kitchen poker 
 by striking it upon his bare arm, and straighten a horse-shoe be- 
 tween his ugly fangs. And he could pay for other men's beer, as 
 well as for his own. Finally, he had the prestige which attaches 
 to an accomplished stranger : nobody knew whence he came. But 
 as both his honesty and his good-fellowship proved above reproach, 
 and as he seemed, though well able to maintain a quarrel, incapable 
 of making one, and as he had regular employment as Squire Fane's 
 hobbygrubber, he speedily became a recognised institution into 
 whose origin nobody dreamed of inquiring. A fellow parishioner 
 who should make handsome weekly earnings by picking up 
 bits of flint and crockery would have been regarded with envy. 
 Moldwarp, as a foreigner, had been entitled to take a line of his
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 23 
 
 own, especially as it interfered with nobody. When he was 
 neither in the barrow, nor at the " Feathers," nor searching, inch 
 by inch, along the ploughed furrows, or the streams, or the 
 sea-shore, he lived in a two-roomed stone hut in the middle of a 
 potato patch, which Squire Fane allowed him rent free. 
 
 The most noticeable point about Silver Moldwarp, however, and 
 at the same time the least likely to escape ordinary masculine ob- 
 servation, was the extraordinary contrast between his general 
 strength and roughness and the delicacy of his hands. His fingers 
 were long and fine enough for a lady's and were distinguished by 
 those tapering tips that are supposed to note the artist, or at least 
 the exceptionally skilled craftsman. Such fingers have also been 
 observed in the superior order of pickpockets, to whom their sensi- 
 bility in touch is as important as to a surgeon. At the present 
 moment, instead of following his unlearned instinct upon the traces 
 of an ancient coin or specimen of stoneware, he was using his 
 fingers, with a rough file in them, upon a large piece of flint, raw 
 from the hands of nature. 
 
 There was the absorption of the artist in the man's whole being 
 as he crouched over his rather niggling labour, and he worked with 
 such energy that the perspiration poured from his forehead, less 
 from the heat than from his obvious mental strain. A separate 
 thought seemed to enter into every touch that he gave with his 
 file. So deeply occupied was he that he failed to hear the gallop 
 of a horse over the hard turf that led landward from the barrow, 
 and he started up in doubly hot confusion, as a strong voice called 
 out: 
 
 "Holloa there, my man! Stand fast there; which way is he 
 gone ? " 
 
 Moldwarp, with a practised hand, threw his flint and his file 
 under his hat, in such a manner that only a professed conjurer 
 could have been aware of the action, and saw a prison warder, in 
 the well-known uniform of Lowmoor, reining his horse at the edge 
 of the barrow. 
 
 " Which way ? Who's gone ? " he asked in a rough country 
 accent which had, however, no kindred with the Crossmarsh tongue. 
 
 " An escaped convict. Didn't you hear the gun ? A youngish 
 man, in the prison uniform " 
 
 " I've seen ne'er a soul," said Moldwarp ; " nor e'er a body 
 nyther. No convic' 's been nigh here." 
 
 " Who are you ? What's your name ? "
 
 M A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 u Silver Moldwarp, labourer to Squire Fane. That's who I am." 
 
 " To Squire Fane, eh P ilow long have you been on this hill ? 
 All day P " 
 
 "Ay all day." 
 
 " And you're seen nobody." 
 
 "Nobody never sees nobody nigh here, but me and Squire 
 Fane." 
 
 The warder looked baffled, and swore. With the best of reasons 
 in his own mind for believing that the convict had made in the 
 direction of Crossmarsh, and with the certainty that he had dis- 
 appeared close by the convenient excavations of Pix-Knoll, it was 
 hard to swallow that a man, who had been on the spot all day, and 
 was notoriously hawk-eyed and quick eared, should have seen 
 nothing of the Lowmoor uniform. 
 
 "Hold my horse here," said he, "I must have a look into those 
 cuttings of yours." 
 
 Moldwarp obeyed, while the warder, cocking a revolver so that 
 any temptation- to horse-stealing or to any other tricks might be 
 put to instant flight, let himself drop into the barrow. The search 
 was easy enough, for the cuttings were of the simplest kind, and 
 contained no corners where a man might hide. 
 
 "Any way, nobody's there now," said the warder, still half 
 suspicious of Moldwarp, "whatever there may have been. He 
 must have made for one of the caves. Ill ride on to Squire 
 Fane's. If you see or hear anything, let your master know." 
 
 Moldwarp scarcely waited to see the warder ride off, before re- 
 turning to the spot where he had left his hat, resuming his incom- 
 prehensible work with flint and file. 
 
 " That's the way with the likes o' them,'* he thought, or rather 
 muttered more than hah* aloud, after the manner of men who live 
 and labour alone. " A man must be sharp to get clear of Low- 
 moor in this sunshine and a sharp man wouldn't make for Squire 
 Fane's Folly, nor the caves he'd know that's where a fool would 
 go, because it's there a pack of fools would go straight to find him. 
 There must be a spice o' fox about that chap there. Well, 'tis 
 naught to me." 
 
 At the end of about an hour the careful and minute filing came 
 to an end. He put the file into his jacket pocket, and drew from 
 the same place a small hammer of a rather peculiar shape, with 
 which he began to clip his flint lightly. It was curious to watch 
 the dexterity with which be made tiny flakes of stone obey the
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 25 
 
 delicate touches of his hammer ; how, if he required to remove the 
 smallest speck in one particular point, just that speck came off in 
 exactly the right place and the right way. Presently the flint 
 grew visibly into the form of an arrow-head, of a shape well 
 known to antiquaries, and the resemblance was rapidly increased 
 when the barb also came into being under the presence of a brad- 
 awl that took the place of the hammer. The barbed arrow-head 
 was made quite as well as the best in the cabinet of Uncle ^Eneas ; 
 and yet it was not made a bit better, which was certainly more 
 curious still. In short, it waa an exact reproduction of the real 
 thing, and for a triumph of modern art bearing similar signs of 
 age and burial. 
 
 The long and ceaseless practice, the manual skill, and the ar- 
 tistic, even scientific instinct which had gone to the production of 
 the forgery were worthy of all admiration, and should have given 
 Silver Moldwarp high rank in a more recognised calling. As 
 things were, he was compelled to find for himself the admiration 
 which circumstances denied him from others. 
 
 " There ; that's older than old King Carrots," said he, as he 
 examined his chef-d'oeuvre for a possible flaw. " It is wonderful 
 what a man can find if he goes the right road to look for 'em. I 
 wouldn't wonder if I chance upon that Fenian sun-dyle some day, 
 after all, if I could only get hold of a big enough block to seek 
 for'n in. Granic, now, might do. It ought to be worth two 
 pounds Ugh ! " 
 
 The knuckles of two fists were pressed tightly into his throat, 
 and forced from him a strangled cry. In the same breath he was 
 dragged and forced down backwards, while his feet flew high into 
 the air. 
 
 Moldwarp was a strong man and struggled strongly. But, taken 
 at this complete disadvantage from behind, his efforts were in vain, 
 and he could only lie back panting under a knee upon his chest and 
 the two hands that did not for a moment leave his throat free. His 
 eyes were free, however : and they saw in his assailant a powerful 
 young fellow, with a smooth-shaven brown face, cropped hair, and 
 the unmistakable costume of a convicted felon. 
 
 " Murder you're strangling me ! " gasped Moldwarp. 
 
 " Wait a bit," said the convict, coolly, and in the accent of a 
 gentleman. " It's no use your calling for help. If we were in 
 earshot I shouldn't have turned up quite so soon. I don't want your 
 life, my man; but, you see the state of things, I want your clothes."
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 " Ugh ! how can I give 'em when " 
 
 The convict's fingers relaxed for a moment, and Moldwarp gave 
 a sadden spring that almost set him free. 
 
 None of that, my man," said the convict, giving his throat 
 and his chest an extra squeeze. "I want your clothes. I don't 
 want to kill you; but if I can't get them except of a dead body, 
 
 There was a cool desperation about the convict that told of a 
 man who would be as good as his word : and his plight was un- 
 questionably at the last point of extremity. Moldwarp realised 
 that the case was neither for f eatsof strength nor for sleight of hand. 
 
 " I give in there ! Only let go my windpipe and let me up," 
 aid he. 
 
 The convict removed 'one hand, but only to reach a crowbar. 
 "Then get on your knees, and off with every rag you've 
 got on. If you lift one knee one inch from the ground till 
 you're as naked as you were born, 'ware head, for down comes the 
 bar." 
 
 Moldwarp rose to his knees, drawing in a great gulp of deli- 
 cious air. He moved slowly, for he was calculating the odds of 
 a sudden rush, and of a wrestler's hug with the convict at close 
 quarters, and therefore within the reach of the crowbar. He had 
 the discretion, which is valour's better half, but he had the valour 
 besides. It was valour that left him the wits to study his as- 
 sailant, and to avoid rashness : and so perhaps it would be truer 
 to say that valour is the better part of discretion. 
 
 In the first place, he could see that the convict was no common 
 felon of his own class, a forger, perhaps, at any rate, guilty of no 
 savage or vulgar crime. Silver Moldwarp had a natural contempt 
 for rogues who allowed themselves to be found out, and at the same 
 time he could not feel that this particular convict, though he wore 
 the garb of discovery, was contemptible. His artistic nature could 
 sympathise with the cunning which, by not taking at once either 
 to the barrow or the sea caverns, had baffled the warder. He was 
 also unconsciously influenced by that magnetic something about 
 the convict which distinguished the few who are born to be obeyed 
 from the many who are born to obey. After a long look from the 
 convict to the crowbar and back again, Moldwarp ended by smil- 
 ing in a not unfriendly way. 
 
 " You're a rough customer," said he. " But I don't see why 
 you'd a call to throttle a fellow creature, before you'd known you
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 27 
 
 had a call. It's nought to me whether you're in or out of Low- 
 moor not to me." 
 
 " I don't want smooth words, my man I want your clothes. I 
 don't suppose my liberty means more to you than to anybody else, 
 but I fancy the reward for catching me will mean a good deal. 
 Now then strip away. Off with your jacket, man, to begin." 
 
 He gave the slightest jerk to the bar ; and Moldwarp was con- 
 scious of an uncomfortable feeling that there was only one thing 
 to be done. As soon as his arms became embarrassed in getting 
 out of their sleeves, the convict whipped off his own jacket, re- 
 covered the use of his own arms the first of the two, and was 
 again ready with the bar. The process was repeated till both men 
 were stripped to the skin. 
 
 "That'll be a new trick for the 'Feathers'" thought Silver 
 Moldwarp "how to get out of your bags and your- boots, without 
 lifting a knee over an inch from the ground. Well : live and 
 learn." The convict threw his prison clothes in a bundle to Mold- 
 warp, and began hastily to cover himself with the suit he had 
 just acquired. He was considerably the bigger man, and the 
 clothes were a bad misfit ; but then they were also so much the 
 worse for wear, that they had hung loosely about their former 
 owner, and would not have looked conspicuously out of place on 
 any tramp of any size. " There," said the convict, " we haven't 
 found one another such bad fellows after all. I won't apologise 
 my liberty is of more use to me than your old clothes are to you. 
 You can get another suit, but I mayn't be able to get another 
 liberty if I lose this one. Good day." 
 
 Silver Moldwarp made no attempt to attack the convict, while 
 the latter was dressing, thus, it may be thought, losing an oppor- 
 tunity. He had either yielded to a magnetic authority, or knew 
 a better way of recovering his own. 
 
 " Eh, but the chap's a born fool, after all," muttered he, as he 
 watched the man striding out quickly and boldly towards the sea. 
 " He dodged the warders, that's sharp enough, and I'd like to know 
 how 'twas done ; but he shifts his gaol bird's feathers for clothes 
 that's better known in Crossmarsh than the ' Feathers,' and are 
 enough to hang him in ; and he's let me see him naked, tattoos 
 and all, so that I could swear to him when his hair's long, and his 
 beard's grown, and his eyes under glasses. There's a fool's trick, 
 if there ever was one : and now he's taken the straight road to 
 Squire Fane's. Well it's nought to do with me, barring that I'lj
 
 rf A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 get a new suit for nothing. Ill wear these canvas things to the 
 Feathers ' to-night, and alter the twist of my mug, and give the 
 folksascare. Ay,I^/haveatryafterthatFeniandyle. But- 
 All at once Silver Moldwarp turned absolutely pale. Mechani- 
 cally he put his hand to the part of his prison jacket, -where the 
 pocket should have been, and naturally, found that his hammer, 
 file, only he knew what besides, had changed hands with the ex- 
 change of clothes. But it must have been something more than 
 even this loss that made him groan aloud, scramble out of the 
 barrow like a madman, and hurry to his own hut, a good mile off, 
 at the top of his speed. He alone could tell what, when the con- 
 vict came to be caught, would be found upon him besides a hammer 
 and a file* 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 When she is far, and I 
 
 Bide o'er the meadow 
 Under the nanny ky, 
 
 Over the shadow 
 Bow it is easy then 
 
 Boldly to woo her 
 While down tbe winding glen 
 
 Speed I onto her. 
 
 Scant while for answering 
 
 Love shall allow her 
 Space while a wild bee's wing 
 
 Brushes a flower .... 
 Nay, bat the path hath grown 
 
 Nearer and nearer 
 Farther and farther flown 
 
 All, save to Fear her ; 
 
 THE sudden boom of the gun, breaking the Rector's traveller's 
 tale off in the very middle, had fired the imagination of Rosa- 
 mond always in a state of tinder ready to be set blazing 
 by any chance spark that might happen to fall. She had nor. 
 often been far from the cottage in aH her life never what 
 Mr. Pitcairn would have called far but she had once driven past 
 the gates and under the walls of Lowmoor, and these had made 
 upon her, though it was many years ago, an impression never to 
 be forgotten. " That is where all the bad people go," was the ex- 
 planation she ha/1 received of its existence when she was even 
 younger than now. But even such commonplace words as those 
 meant a great deal to Rosamond. Where all the bad people go 
 all : not merely some, but all ! Why, it must be the very main 
 gate of Hell, with a separate sin for every brick that had gone to 
 its building, and with those for warders that were not good even
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 29 
 
 to dream of. The thought was her own, for the theology that 
 surrounded her childhood was ancient and simple, and was based 
 largely on very realistic images and exceedingly plain words. Once 
 again she had driven past Lowmoor, but she had not again seen 
 it, for on that second occasion she had shut her eyes, and had 
 not opened them again till the building was safely on the other 
 side of the hill. 
 
 Growing older, she naturally learned more of what an earthly 
 prison-house means, and what it is for. But, though thus enabled 
 to build a certain structure of facts, upon her original quicksand 
 of fancy, the sand was ready to swallow up the house upon the 
 very smallest provocation. Lowmoor, in her mind, was still a 
 place apart from all else, having nothing to do with the common 
 light and air that gave light to Crossmarsh, and Windgates 
 and the Sea. The building was to her invisible, but the idea of 
 it was a shadow often falling over her mind when she was 
 alone, as if it were in itself a thought of evil. One of 
 the books she had most ardently devoured was a stitched pam- 
 phlet that had come in Uncle JEneas's magisterial way some 
 sort of official return, or report, giving an account of the routine, 
 dietary, and other such interesting matters connected with Low- 
 moor Goal. In one sense, it half -piqued, half -satisfied her curi- 
 osity, but it lamentably disappointed her on the whole. Men, 
 whose hands were red with the blood of their fellow-men, were 
 confined in Lowmoor. How could the knowledge that he was 
 allowed so many pints of soup, and so many ounces of bread, and 
 no tobacco, help her to see into the heart of a man with such a 
 hand ? The contrast between Cliff Cottage, with its quiet garden 
 and its changeless days, and that mansion of darkness, near enough 
 to be felt all the more for not being quite near enough to be seen, 
 remained a more awful mystery even than before. It had never 
 suggested itself to Rosamond that such fathomless thoughts as 
 these about a hideous parallelogram, used as a fold for the world's 
 black sheep, were unshared by Sophy. Her own ways of looking 
 at things, she took for granted, were common to all mankind 
 even by old Moldwarp, she supposed. 
 
 But the idea that a living man had actually escaped from Low- 
 moor ! Such a thing scarcely needed the added solemnity of a 
 great gun's thunder to impress her profoundly. Not only was it 
 new in all her experience, but it was new to all her ideas, which 
 drew their life from the original notion of the visible Inferno afti
 
 y> A REAL QVEEN. 
 
 all. She knew something, from the old stitched report, of the 
 difficulties, supposed to be insuperable, which stood in the way of 
 such a deed. But something more than statistical descriptions 
 made her feel it to be a prodigious oversetting of natural lavs. 
 The voice of the gun through the hot, heavy summer afternoon, 
 teemed to Rosamond less a mere announcement of a marvel than 
 some supernatural effect necessarily accompanying the return of a 
 condemned soul to the world. 
 
 I an unprecedented thing," said Uncle yEneas, when that 
 part of the afternoon arrived when its routine ordered that his 
 vi.-itnrs should inspect the greenhouses, "that a convict should 
 escape in broad daylight, as this man must have done. The last 
 man chose a fog, in winter it was twenty years ago, the day 
 before I first saw my Cretan Obolus and he would have escaped, 
 only " 
 
 " Aye P " aaked the Rector. " Only P * 
 
 "Only he walked over Furnace Point and well, he did 
 escape out and out, after all. You know the rocks under Furnace 
 Point, There wasn't much of him left to take back to Lowmoor." 
 
 " Ah," said Mrs. Pitcairn, " if people only would be contented 
 with their lot ; but it's always the way. A contented mind " 
 
 " Isn't a continual feast at Lowmoor if you mean that, Maria," 
 
 said the parson. " Poor dev You'll have a fine crop of grapes 
 
 this year, Fane," he went on, quickly, having himself narrowly 
 escaped a precipice, " a first-rate crop." 
 
 There were many questions that Rosamond was longing to ask ; 
 but she had not yet passed the age when, according to the primi- 
 li\i- etiquette of those parts and of that household, young people 
 ought to be seen, and not heard. It seemed to her, however, that 
 she could understand how terrible and life-crushing must be the 
 existence within prison walls, if it drove its victims to an escape 
 more terrible still. 
 
 "Oswald," she half-whispered to her old playfellow, "what 
 was the story of that man who was killed? "What had he 
 done?" 
 
 Oswald, grown shy with the consciousness of his new relation 
 towards Rosamond, self-made and one-sided as it was, welcomed a 
 chance of speech with her that came easily and without seeking. 
 " I remember hearing of it when I was a boy a child," said he, 
 " and that's all. What he'd done, I don't know. . . . But 
 these aren't things for you to think of. ... No ; you needn't
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 31 
 
 be in a Lurry to run away. / haven't looked at the grapes yet, 
 you know." For the greenhouse had now been inspected, and 
 Rosamond, disappointed of her answer, was preparing to follow 
 the general progress to the cucumber frames, or wherever it might 
 be tending. He had not ridden over from Windgates solely for 
 the purpose of making a clean breast of things to Uncle ^Eneas ; 
 he had come, with all the courage of a lover at a distance, to fix 
 his life for good and all. And, though he unaccountably had 
 found his courage less at the end than it had been at the beginning 
 of his ride, he had no notion of facing the shame of riding home 
 again without having said what he meant to say. It already 
 seemed quite shameful enough that he, a grown man of the world 
 had found himself at fault before a girl who was still almost 
 a child. 
 
 "Of course you can see the grapes, and eat them too, when 
 they're ripe," said Rosamond, seriously. " But you might have 
 told me about the man that was killed." 
 
 " I'll tell you something better than that, Rosamond." 
 
 "Better than " 
 
 " Than walking over Furnace Point in a fog ? Well, I hope so. 
 That is to say, I know it would be better for me and for you 
 well, that's where the hoping comes in. I " 
 
 This was so far different from the manner in which he had 
 meant to begin, that he lost himself ; and, besides, last night, alone 
 with his pipe, and this afternoon while riding over, he had never 
 realised all that asking Rosamond to wait for him would mean. 
 It is true that he saw in her the future woman who ought, of 
 rights, to blossom from a girlhood of perfect innocence and simpli- 
 city ; and to the woman who was to be he could have made love 
 as easily as true love knows how to be made, and like a m an. But 
 seeing her in the midst of these flowers which, to his eyes, claimed 
 her as a sister, he could only feel, more surely even than he had 
 ever hitherto felt, that the woman who was to be had not yet 
 come. Now that he was alone with her presence, it seemed as if 
 it were a lighter matter to make love to that white rose whereby 
 she was standing, and as if a single note of the language sacred to 
 the purest of passion would be a stain. And yet, at the same 
 time, an instinct no less true told him that to make love even to a 
 real white rosebud as if it were nothing more is to lose one's pains. 
 
 " I wonder if you know how much I like you ! " said he at last. 
 
 * I hope I do," said Rosamond, frankly. " I hope you like me
 
 3 a A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 'all That,' as we used to say when we were children," she added, 
 stretching out her arms as wide apart as they would go. 
 
 "Ah, you can't reach wide enough yet, to measure. But 
 when we were children! That's getting soroo way back, now 
 at least to me. We have to measure liking in other ways 
 now." 
 
 "True," sighed Rosamond. "I really feel getting quite old, 
 Bometimea as if I remembered old Moldwarp's arrows and 
 hatchets when they were new. And just think how many roses, 
 just like these, I have seen born and dying ! And on they will po, 
 l*-ing born and dying, while I shall go on living and living why 
 Queen Boadicea can't seem half so old to Uncle /Eneas as I rnus r , 
 seem to them. Isn't it strange? " 
 
 " Very strange, indeed," assented Oswald, gravely, not in th<* 
 least following her meaning, but accepting it as faithfully as 
 an echo. But she took his assent for intelligent sympathy, and 
 was encouraged to go on. It was not often that she felt such 
 encouragement in the presence of a playmate of long ago who 
 had grown up into a man of awe-inspiring gravity and learning, 
 and she would well-nigh have walked, in her own person, over 
 Furnace Point rather than let his superior wisdom into the secret 
 of her magic cage she was shy and tender over secrets that 
 even to her seemed to belong to a childhood that, at her mature 
 age, needed to be hidden away in dark corners, and she 
 instinctively feared the grown-up smile that would scatter them 
 away in shame. But there were many fancies, short of her 
 Grand Mystery, which belonged but to the moment, and might, 
 therefore, be as fearless as butterflies in sun, who know neither 
 to-morrow or yesterday ; and, somehow, in spite of Oswald's 
 unusual constraint, he seemed to have grown backwards nearer to 
 her own age than he had seemed to be when he had last visited 
 Crossmarsh, a week ago. After all, a young man of three-and- 
 twenty is not bound to be so very much older than a girl of 
 fifteen. There are other things in the Kingdom of Time besides 
 years and days. 
 
 "I assure you," she said, leaping over a long stretch of 
 thought, in forgetfulness that Oswald's wits did not share with 
 hers the privilege of wings, "I assure you I have thought 
 everything all out, and that I mean us Sophy and me to have 
 nothing to do with change. Everything, here at Crossmarsh, 
 is to be alwaya exactly what it u now. Old Moldwarp is to go
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 33 
 
 on finding flints for Uncle ^Eneas till he has found them all and 
 then he must begin to find them all over again. Sophy and I 
 will keep house, and never change a servant, nor an animal, nor 
 the place of a chair. And " 
 
 " Well ? " asked Oswald, with more interest than the scheme 
 called for except, indeed, on the part of those who have as yet 
 seen nothing change, nor known what change means. 
 
 " And and that's all." 
 
 " Quite all ? Haven't you kept a place for me ? " 
 
 "Indeed I have, though, Oswald! You shall ride 6ver from 
 Windgates just as often as you do now." 
 
 "Not oftener ? But if you only mean I'm not to change 
 you may he as sure of that, dear, as that you are alive. Only 
 though not in me change must come. And, since it must, don't 
 you want ever to spread your wings and see the world ? " 
 
 " No. Perhaps I should, if I were a man. But no. I 
 should find nothing that I want, and that I can have here, 
 whenever whenever I please." She coloured, though without 
 knowing it : for her tongue, not often at liberty, had been 
 on the point of betraying her power of raising, at will, a far 
 larger and fuller life than, as even Rosamond knew, is to be 
 found in the whole wide world since dragons and dragon- 
 slayerij followed in the track of the ichthyosaurus and the 
 dodo. "If I did not wake up in the morning in Cross- 
 marsh ! " 
 
 "Why should that be such a terrible thing ?" 
 
 "I should have crossed the sea or else the hills " 
 
 " And then ? " 
 
 " I should perhaps know what Lowmoor means. I am afraid 
 to know." 
 
 " Good God, Rosamond ! " cried Oswald, only kept from laugh- 
 ing outright by the awful knowledge that she was She, and there- 
 fore must needs mean something, though her meaning mi^it stand 
 in sore need of an interpreter, " anybody, who did n- i know 
 you, would think you meant you are afraid of being sent to 
 gaol ! " 
 
 And, indeed, how could he guess, even faintly, into the manner 
 in which, during a childhood as deeply alone as was ever passed 
 in this world, she had evolved a world out of hints, guesses, and 
 shadows, in which the few things she half knew were but types 
 and forecast shadows of the vast and unimaginable unknown ? 
 
 8
 
 34 A SEAL QUEEX. 
 
 The sea and the cliffs bounded all the few realities of life that 
 were signified by that narrow word, Home. Beyond it lay, to her 
 mind, unbounded space and endless time, wherefrom the passing 
 ships were messengers no less shadowy than the sea-birds whose 
 nests she bad never seen. On the other side were the hills, in the 
 half distance, beyond which lay the world of men, with a 
 citadel of crime for its entrance, and its end in one. Cross- 
 inarsh lay between two mysteries, dividing them : and while 
 those who feel the mysteries of life only a little long to 
 dare them, those who feel them a great deal can only feel, 
 and fear. 
 
 And yet the very dread of change may be but an extreme form 
 of the fascination which brings the bird to the serpent against 
 its will. But of that, Rosamond could, as yet, guess nothing. 
 HIT now fancies were all that had come to disturb the melodious 
 monotony of her days, which, like the flowers among which 
 she stood, fell off the ear's stalk so softly and easily that, 
 when the next came, it only seemed as if yesterday were waking 
 again from a dreamless sleep and re-opening upon her the self-same 
 
 "Rosamond," said Oswald, with the air and all the sensations 
 of a philosopher, " of course you can't think that you and Sophy 
 can go on living all your lives just as you are now. Changes 
 must come, in a world where people live and die, and never know 
 what is to happen next and it's a good thing they do, consider- 
 ing what a humdrum sort of place it would else be. One needn't 
 talk of anybody's dying yet : but Sophy will marry, and you 
 the more you will want somebody to stand by you, 
 and find courage for you, if you are so afraid of the world. 
 And that's so certain, dear, that I mean never to marry, 
 nor to change, until you do and then only on the same 
 day." 
 
 " Oh," said Rosamond, quickly, " I never mean to be married. 
 I know all about marriage. It wouldn't suit me at all. And, of 
 course, Sophy will feel tho same as me. But, of course, you can 
 do as you like." 
 
 "Can IP" asked Oswald, a little ruefully : for he had been 
 flattering himself that he had at last reached the point of plain 
 speaking. " However well see about that. Of course, I know 
 how yonng you are now - " 
 
 " I am fifteen ! " said Rosamond,
 
 it ^EAL QUEEN. 3- 
 
 ** And well, I'm. afraid i c'an't make you see all in a minute 
 what i mean. Would you mind changing Crossinarsh for 
 Windgates ? After all, that wouldn't be so very much of a 
 change." 
 
 " Oh, Oswald ! " she suddenly excUimed, " are you asking ME 
 to marry YOU ? " 
 
 " Of course I am. I'm asking you to wait for me and to know 
 that everything I think of, and everything I ever do, is all V> 
 make the time come nearer. So, dear, you needn't be afrcad that 
 a single thing in your life shall not be just as you will. Y^i 
 don't know all about marriage : nobody knows anything fclUv* 
 such a marriage as I will try to make ours. I'll begin to mt.<r 
 Windgates exactly what you would like to find it I'll begii. 
 five minutes after I get home : it will take five minutes to 
 put my horse up, or else I'd begin still sooner. Will you wait ?" 
 
 He was speaking eagerly and warmly, now that the plunge, 
 which had at one time appeared so impossible, had been mac^e. 
 And, therefore he was beginning to forget his intention of only a.Sc- 
 ing Rosamond to wait in order that he might not spend the mos* 
 few years in anxious doubting. He came close to her, and took 
 both her hands in one of his own. But he tried in vain to 
 read her eyes, which met his as if she had been utterly wrong 
 in her boast, and, instead of knowing all about marriage 
 knew nothing of it at all, preface, or chapter, from title-page 
 to end. 
 
 "O course I will wait," said she. "It is easy enough to 
 do that ; but, indeed, Oswald, I don't want to marry anybody 
 at all." 
 
 " Ah, but you will and if that anybody is not me You said, 
 
 just now, you liked me 'all That.' Do you want anybody you 
 like to be miserable for years ? I must know now whether I am 
 to win you or lose you in time to come. I suppose I have told 
 you all I meant to tell you now. Only from this hour think of 
 me in only one way as one who means to live for you whether 
 you ever let him or no, and who is always living and waiting 
 for you, till you find out all that that my love for you means. 
 
 And " 
 
 He was speaking very quietly and slowly, but something in 
 his voice or in his eyes made her withdraw her hands. She did 
 not understand; but something in all this felt like the shadow 
 of Change. 
 
 3 A
 
 35 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 Promise me this now," said he, " and- that isn't much, dear ! 
 I won't ask anything else, till I know what you'll say. 
 great thing to give a man Hope, that will last him for years- 
 for months, anyway. Promise that yon will remember all us, 
 and will wait till I ask you again. Will you? You can pro 
 
 all with just one word! " 
 
 It was certainly little that he was asking-no more than 
 man might ask of any girl whose fancy was free. But his eyes 
 hung upon her lips as if they were about to speak his doom for 
 good and all. If the love he had for her was too deeply rooted 
 for passion, it was therefore all the more part and parcel of him- 
 self, and it was for the first time spreading visibly open the 
 blossoms, upon the fruit whereof hung all the hopes he had formed 
 for all his life long. The delicate lips parted, and the word 
 of answer might it be of hope ! seemed trembling into life, 
 
 when 
 
 Rosamond ! Rosamond ! " cried Sophy, bounding in, " where 
 have you been all this while ? And Oswald, too ! I don't know 
 what has happened, but I just happened to be on the lawn when 
 a man on horseback, and in a uuifornj, rode up, for Uncle ^Eneas, 
 to the front door. I've been looking for you, to tell you, every- 
 where, and look ; there he goes ! " 
 
 Oswald was very fond of Rosamond's sister, but he had never 
 till that moment fully realised Sophy's peculiarities hi the way of 
 seeing everything, and of telling, as though it were a matter of 
 life and death, everything that she saw, without regard to place 
 or time. But there was no help for it now the coming word 
 had been startled away, and could not now be recalled. Court- 
 ing Rosamond was surely only to be compared with chasing a 
 butterfly, with films of gossamer for fences stronger than oak and 
 iron, and with a chance at any moment of finding the hunt 
 rhr *ro out by the interference of a gnat or bee. However, the 
 Yeart must be faint indeed that will yield even to lions and eagles. 
 Another time would make itself or else be made. So, instead of 
 amazing poor unwelcome Sophy with a sharp word, Oswald 
 looked from the greenhouse door at the man on horseback, in 
 uniform. And Rosamond, more grateful to her sister than she 
 could tell, was only too glad to look also. 
 
 "By Jove, if it isn't Brown, from Lowmoor!" exclaimed 
 Oswald, who had long ago forgotten the boom of the distant gun, 
 which might have reminded him that the world contains other
 
 A PEAL QUEEN. 37 
 
 stories besides bis own. " What's up, Brown ? Wbat brings 
 you here ? " 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Hargrave, I'm not sorry to see you," said the warder, 
 touching his cap to the two girls, as Sophy ran forward and took 
 Oswald's hand, while Rosamond shrank back on finding herself face 
 to face with Lowmoor in flesh and blood, human and real, and un- 
 mistakably branded even with a coat, cap, belt, and buttons of its 
 own. " It's nothing very particular, but if you'll walk on a step 
 or two I'll tell you what I've told Mr. Fane." 
 
 "All right. Go back to the house with with Rosamond, 
 Sophy," said Oswald, gathering that the warder did not wish to 
 speak before the girls. " I sha'n't be long. There now I'm at 
 your service, Brown. It's about that escaped convict, I sup- 
 pose?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Hargrave. And a more desperate " 
 
 His voice sunk, and became mixed with the crunch of his horse's 
 shoes upon the gravel, so that not even Sophy, though she pricked 
 her ears to their utmost reach, could gather a word more. 
 
 " Rosamond," said Sophy, as the two sisters turned slowly to- 
 wards the house, " I don't know what it all means, but Mr. and 
 Mrs. Pitcairn went off as fast as if their house was on fire, and 
 you and Oswald have been talking in the greenhouse for hours, as 
 if he was in your great secret instead of me, and now he's gone off 
 with that man in uniform. There is something and I'm left out 
 of it all. I believe it all began with that gun. "What ivas Oswald 
 saying to you in the greenhouse all that while ? " 
 
 Rosamond had never had a secret from her sister in her life. 
 But things were even already, if ever so little, changed since the 
 boom of that gun. Rosamond had received her first offer, and she 
 had found it so hard to understand that how could Sophy be ex- 
 pected to understand it at all. She had to put it all into thoughts 
 before she could try to translate it into words. 
 
 "Please, Sophy," she pleaded, "don't ask me any questions now ! 
 I'll tell you all about everything to-morrow, the first thing, be- 
 tween waking and getting up." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! that will never do. I shall be kept awake all night 
 with thinking you know I always am whenever I think, and then 
 when it's time to wake I shall be too sleepy to listen. Tell me 
 now please ! " 
 
 " Indeed I can't, Sophy." 
 
 "Is it anything about me ?"
 
 38 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 "Nothing in the world." 
 
 "And you won't tell ? Oh, Rosamond, I never knew you unkind 
 before!" 
 
 " I can't. I wish but never mind." 
 
 " No never mind ! I suppose you're gworn to secrecy but I'm 
 not ; and as that man in uniform is at the bottom of it all, Ac can't 
 complain if I just just happen to be behind the laurels while he 
 and Oswald are crawling along the drive." 
 
 And off Sophy ran, with feet as quick as her ears. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Snch trick* 
 
 Oar own mind* play n, that we, oftentimes 
 Taking false phantom* (or the truth of flesh, 
 And wind* for roices, are betrayed thereby 
 To taking truth* for dreams phantastical. 
 All U not gold that glitten, preach the wise ; 
 And naught that gleams U goMcn, prates the fool. 
 
 P. MIT, at least, of the latest news turned out to be true enough 
 the Pitcairns had gone home. On ordinary occasions, 
 Rosamond would have been rather sorry, for she would have 
 wanted to hear the rest of that story about the undiscovered island. 
 She was a world-wide traveller in fancy, in spite of her feelings 
 against actual change. Uncle ^Eneas, as he usually did in the even- 
 ing, had shut himself up with his bones from the skeleton of dead 
 Time ; and Oswald did not return. So Rosamond, at the open bay 
 window, read a book, upside down, until Sophy returned, looking 
 aa important as if she had just been made a cabinet minister. She 
 also brought a book to the bay window ; and it is quite possible 
 that she also may have read the wrong side upwards, for she had 
 a wonderful knack of reflecting her sister in outward actions, so 
 that the few people who had ever had an opportunity of observing 
 them used to call the two girls as like as two peas. Only it so hap- 
 pened that Sophy also had her original side, and in that matter 
 the observant people were, naturally enough, as wrong as they 
 always are. 
 
 Rosamond was silent, while the summer twilight deepened, and 
 00 was Sophy. But there are as many sorts of silence as there are 
 tongues to break it. Rosamond was silent because she did not 
 want to speak Sophy because she wanted to be spoken to. How- 
 ever, since the mountain would not come to Mahomet
 
 A SEAT, QUEEN. 39 
 
 "You needn't trouble to wake me early to-morrow morning, 
 Rosamond ! " said she. " If you were in your castle I should give 
 the signal for important news." 
 
 " Important news ! " echoed Rosamond, waking up from what 
 was neither sleep, nor thought, nor dream, nor voyage of fancy 
 but from some mental mood known neither to men, nor women, 
 nor children, but to girls alone unrecognised when they come, 
 and forgotten when they go. " Why, Sophy, 1 declare I had for- 
 gotten you were there ! " 
 
 " Don't you want to know ? " 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 "I don't know what Oswald was saying to you, but I do know 
 why the Pitcairns hurried off, and why the man came from Low- 
 moor, and why, instead of coming back to the house, Oswald had 
 Nancy out of the stable and saddled her himself, and galloped off 
 with the man. I happened to be just behind the laurels at first, 
 and afterwards, Rosamond, I just chanced to be in the loose box 
 while Oswald was saddling Nancy. And oh! Rosamond, do 
 youknow thegaoler and Oswald have galloped off to hunta man ! " 
 
 " A man ? " A slow flash of summer lightning played over the 
 far line of the sea, and, dumb as it was, brought back the signal 
 gun to mind. " Oh, Sophy the man who has escaped from the 
 gaol?" 
 
 Sophy nodded. " They don't know what has become of him, or 
 where he may be, or what he may do. lie might rob, or perhaps 
 murder somebody before he is taken again. It's like as if a lion or 
 tiger had broken out of a show. But don't you think we'd better 
 have lights ? Isn't it getting rather dark to read ? " 
 
 " I'm not reading Sophy. Do you want to read ? " 
 
 "Well, perhaps not exactly to read. But we might want, 
 presently, to do something else, you know ; it's still an hour to bed 
 time, and 
 
 " Does Uncle vEneas know ?" 
 
 " He knows, and the Pitcairns know, and that's why they went 
 off home, to put everything safe there. I didn't hear that, but 1 
 suppose that's why. But you mustn't know anything, because we 
 weren't to be told, for fear we might be afraid as if that was 
 a likely thing ! What was that, Rosamond ? " 
 
 " What was what ? " asked Rosamond, herself a little startled 
 by Sophy's sudden whisper which, in anybody possessing les 
 courage, might certainly have been mistaken for fear.
 
 40 A REAL QVEF.y. 
 
 "That rustling sort of noise. It M getting dark, Rosamond 
 rjally dork : and the lightning looks so blue and odd ; and I do 
 really want to read. Let's shut the window and ring for candles." 
 
 "And Oswald P" 
 
 " I told you. lie knows all the places and the ways about, and 
 he' gone to help catch the robber if they can." 
 
 " Sophy, I'm afraid it's very dreadful, but " 
 
 " But what P " What's dreadful ? " asked Sophy, whose chair 
 had been all the while walking nearer to Rosamond's until now 
 it could come no nearer. 
 
 " I can't help it. I hope they won't catch that man." 
 
 " Not catch a man who robs and kills ? " 
 
 " But suppose he's innocent suppose he's been in prison by 
 mistake. Think of that other man who fell over Furnace Point, 
 Sophy ! I can't get it out of my mind. And then, if Oswald 
 finds him, and if they fight. Did you hear why the man was in 
 prison ? what he has done P " 
 
 " Only that it was something very dreadful indeed." 
 
 New things so seldom happen in Crossmarsh or, rather, so seldom 
 used to happen there, that when they did they assumed a size 
 and a shape inconceivable by most of us, who are brought every 
 hour with things the least of which would have been there the 
 lasting landmark of a year's history. A man had escaped from 
 Lowmoor, and the warders were after him. What then? He 
 will presently be caught : and in five minutes there will be a fire, 
 or a war, or a libel that will wash such a trifle clean off our 
 minds. And this we call living. But it was in Crossmarsh that 
 people really lived, making much of little things and giving 
 themselves up to the influence of what they called great ones. 
 Rosamond was not frightened in the vulgar sense that is to say, 
 lest a ruffian at large should be lying in wait to spring upon her 
 from behind a hedge in one of her walks, or should even now 
 be watching for an opportunity to make a dash through the bay 
 window. She was not infected by Sophy's half-triumphant 
 trembling over the terrible news she had been the first to gather. 
 But she felt that Crossmarsh, with one of the lost souls of Low- 
 moor wandering over it like a condemned demon at large, was not 
 the Crossmarsh that she had chosen for her whole life's abode 
 the one point of peace and safety between the world beyond the 
 hills and the world beyond the sea. The intrusive element had 
 mad" iuelf outwardly perceptible in the sort of pania
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 41 
 
 reported by Sophy, and in the complete silence and solitude which 
 had followed upon a more than commonly social afternoon. But 
 it also seemed to Rosamond as if there were something beyond 
 the common course of nature in the dark, moonless, starless, 
 windless twilight of a cloudy midsummer night, and more than 
 coincidence in the chance that the gun which had set the new 
 influence free had also been the preface for Oswald's strange and 
 still but dimly comprehended words; 
 
 Cliff Cottage was early resting and early rising. Uncle ^Eneas, 
 indeed, would sometimes sit up half-way through the night over 
 some new find of Silver Moldwarp's, but on such occasions he would 
 rise all the earlier, in order to return the sooner to a fresh study 
 of the treasure which had meanwhile delighted his dreams. To- 
 night he departed, a little from the established routine. He sent 
 off the girls to bed a full half -hour before the usual time, and 
 the rest of his proceedings would have remained unknown had 
 not Sophy, half undressed, just happened to be taking the air at 
 the head of the stairs when he went round and locked, doubled 
 locked, and wherever practicable, bolted every door : no easy task> 
 for such precautions, though customary in theory, had fallen into 
 abeyance at the cottage for years. Then he went out and Sophy 
 heard him unfastening old Rover's chain. Finally, she skipped 
 into a dark corner just in time, unseen herself, to see Uncle 
 ./Eneas carrying the plate, the butler's charge, into his own room. 
 
 " I sha'n't sleep a single wink, Rosamond ! " said she. And, 
 so saying, she fell asleep soundly. 
 
 It was Rosamond who, well-nigh for the first time in her life, 
 found sleep impossible. She did not even close her eyes, and not 
 being provided with a stock of night-thoughts, such as may either 
 conjure sleep into coming or enable the more perverse insomniac 
 to kill the crawling hours, she found wakefulness intolerable. Half 
 a dozen times she went to the window, and looked out seaward, 
 while Sophy who evidently neither woke nor slept by halves 
 never stirred. Yet she was tired, and, though she was so broad 
 awake, Oswald's courtship itself became as unreal as if the day 
 had been the night, and she had dreamed therein. Then imagina- 
 tion fairly woke up, and claimed to be exorcised. 
 
 " Yes ; I will ! " said she, half aloud. " Sophy won't wake til] 
 I come back, and if she does, she'll know where I am." 
 
 So she dressed herself, lighted one candle and supplied herself
 
 4 2 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 with a second, and went out into the passage, and closed the 
 door softly behind her. The cottage was built far too well 
 to contain creaking boards, and her footsteps were unheard 
 even by herself until she reached that bare lumber room, with 
 the one table, the one chair, and the heap of straw in the corner, 
 where she had been interrupted that morning in the middle of her 
 ppellfl. Placing the candle on the table she turned the key in the 
 door, and arranged her magical properties an ink-bottle without 
 a stand, a thin heap of paper, and a quill pen. 
 
 r had she felt in better form for the prosecution of that 
 great secret which was, as yet, only known to herself and Sophy, 
 and which interested Sophy mainly, if not entirely, because it was 
 a secret in which she alone was permitted to share. Her body was 
 fired, her mind confused, and her spirit broad awake : the place, 
 the solitude, and the feeble light which left the corners of the loft 
 in gloom suggested all sorts of capricious shadows and wild 
 images : and everybody knows how the small hours of the four 
 and twenty are a kind of inspiration in themselves. The nonsense 
 which filters through thought into a semblance of sense when the 
 sun shines, seems all superior to sense in those midnight hours, 
 and floods itself out wholesale. Kosamond Fane having no 
 foolish fear of critics and readers before her, filled her pen at once, 
 and lost not a moment in finishing the sentence into which Sophy's 
 ill-timed summons had broken : 
 
 " . . . . when there rose before their wondering gaze that 
 terrible form. The gleam of the torches first turned blue and 
 was then lost in the glow that gleamed from the cavernous eyes 
 of the phantom. Even in that moment of terror Callista noticed 
 a blood-red cross in the centre of its brow, and remembered how 
 the mysterious Montalvan had told her by that brand the whole 
 mystery would become clear. She threw herself on her knees 
 beside the priest, and grasped his sable robe. ' Speak ! phantom ! ' 
 said the priest. ' Who art thou ? and whence comest thou ? 
 and why?' A strange groan made the walls of the chambeJ 
 quake and tremble. To the ears of the priest it meant naught; 
 lut it said to Callista, " Lady, behold in me the spirit of the 
 miserable Demetrius branded with the brand of Cain!" It 
 seemed to her that a powerful sentence, she knew not how, had 
 slipped from her pen, and she paused to listen to the melancholy 
 music that it seemed to her, under the glamour of night, excite- 
 ment, and solitude, to contain. The ring of it felt, indeed, almost
 
 A HEAL QUE'M. 43 
 
 too good to be her own. Yet she was sure she had never met 
 with it in any of her books, and was conscious of the poet's glow 
 when the pooiest bit of work is glorified to the workman's eyes 
 by the flying sparks of the forge at work and the roar of the 
 labouring wind. 
 
 But, after such a stroke as that, to continue the description of 
 the murderer's ghost was much less easy than it had been to begin. 
 She re-read her morning's work, dwelling upon the fine points, and 
 here and there mending them. But somehow her written words 
 no longer realised her conception of the scene. It all came before 
 her so much better when she looked away from her paper, and 
 leaned back in her chair, and allowed the priest and Lady Callista, 
 and the murderous apparition to act before her. There was 
 something wanting in all that she had written heretofore, with 
 the single-minded purpose of indulging an instinct, and of some 
 day seeing how the work of her pen could make Sophy's blood 
 run cold, for every author must needs write for some public, and 
 Sophy was Rosamond's. Now, however, either Oswald had 
 proved himself the most unheroic of lovers, or else her own great 
 love-scene between the beautiful Callista and the mysterious 
 Montalvan was all wrong. And then since the morning there 
 was a real murderer abroad. Her miserable Demetrius lacked 
 the cachet of a lost soul from Lowmoor, whose very existence, 
 invisibly ghost-like as it was, had been enough to charge the 
 air of Crossmarsh with sudden and pervading thunder. 
 
 How much better, could she find the words, would she raise her 
 ghost now ! She began the half of another sentence, and then a 
 few words of another ; but the inspiration, which had seemed ready 
 to last all night, refused any longer to come at her bidding. Her 
 fancies seemed to take upon them the visible form in which such 
 things appear to ghost-seers, looking with contempt on the feeble 
 efforts of words to follow them. The old loft expanded easily into 
 the vast and ancient hall of her story, with gallery and dais, just 
 as she had seen in the illustrated county history. The air was 
 heavy enough with heat, and the one candle was burning dimly 
 enough to represent to the life the impotent light of the torches. 
 She was herself a flesh and blood Callista, with a real lover, who 
 had set out on a desperate life and death chase, and impressed with 
 an actual atmosphere of crime and mystery. Indeed, she was in 
 worse plight than Callista with her priest. She was alone all 
 alone. She never thought of returning to her bed : it is of tho
 
 44 A PEAL QUEEX. 
 
 nature of such moods to hold us where we are till wo have exhausted 
 all the influence that holds our minds not unwilling prisoners. 
 
 But where was the spectre P That, at least, she had no desire 
 to raise. All the rest, though made up of the most intangible 
 fancies, was quite real enough for one who was keeping a vigil of 
 candle-light in such a place, and at such an hour. Yet Fancy is 
 not one of those creatures who can he fixed to its place, and for- 
 bidden to wander beyond a given line. . . . She could swear 
 that the air was growing thicker and closer in one corner of the 
 room ; she could almost swear that she saw the motion in that 
 more compact and darker air that suggested the presence of an un- 
 substantial form. 
 
 Then her heart misgave her. It was not for this that she had come 
 to use the magic of her pen. She gave herself a mental shake, 
 passed her hands quickly and roughly over her eyes and forehead, 
 plunged her pen iuto the ink, and again sat down to the table. 
 She even wrote a whole sentence. But it was incoherent, and was 
 written really as a sort of charm against the visible appearance of 
 the unseen. She was ashamed to run away from a freak of fancy, 
 and yet she could not, for the life of her, but feel that the air in 
 that corner was growing thicker and darker, and the presence con- 
 centrating itself there more and more. She could not write, and 
 ahe dared not look round. 
 
 The strain was growing terrible. Who is strong enough to 
 battle against causeless fear, or to stir hand or foot when bound 
 with invisible chains P " They would not hurt us if they could ; 
 they could not if they would," she forced herself to remember ; 
 and found that old jingling charm of daylight reason against mid- 
 night spectres as unavailing as thousands of wiser people have 
 found it before her. She might certainly hava said her prayers 
 and the hymn which begs protection against all powers of dark- 
 uess ; but she had a natural shame of turning prayer into a talisman 
 against childish terrors. So she sat spell-bound, pen in hand, lis- 
 tening, and hearing nothing not looking, for fear of what she 
 might see. " Branded with the brand of Cain ! " Suppose she 
 should look up, and those caverns of eyes, and between them the 
 cross of crimson, and 
 
 Her shoulder was grasped by a heavy hand.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 45 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Gil Elrich till that ladie came, 
 
 And ran before her knee 
 " Now help and hide me soon, fair Damo, 
 
 Out of thy great pitie." 
 But she forth spake, "And though I woul^ 
 
 And had withal the power, 
 How will they deem of maidenhood 
 
 Who find thee here in bower ? " 
 " Then ouV quoth he, " on Hope and all 
 
 On maid be bale and ban 
 Who'll chide her Hawk when finches fall, 
 
 But hound a hunted Man ! " 
 
 "TTUSH!" breathed a voice in her ear. "Don't scream 
 don't faint : I shall do you no harm." 
 
 There was not the least chance of her doing either. 
 One must have a voice to scream with, and one's heart must bo 
 alive and going 1 before it faints and Rosamond's breath was 
 paralysed and her heart standing still. She was too petrified 
 even to be called afraid : for fear, like pain, has a limit beyond 
 which it cannot go. And, for another thing, she had never 
 fainted in her life, and so did not know how. 
 
 " Of course she could not help looking : and was almost reassured 
 to find that the eyes were not cavernous and that there was no 
 crimson cross between them. Her nerves had been strung to 
 such a point of tension, that she would have been amazed at 
 nothing : and it was a loosening of the cords to find that the 
 owner of the voice and the grasp was of real flesh and blood, after 
 all. But, as exaltation died down, fear arose. Though but mortal 
 like herself, he was no very attractive object upon whom her 
 eyes were riveted. Perhaps he might not have been ill-looking 
 under more favourable circumstances; but what she saw was a 
 tall man, obviously a good many years older than Oswald, with a 
 closely shaven face, closely cropped hair, and a strange bundle of 
 clothes upon him that had evidently been made for a man of at 
 most half his size. His legs were bare below the knees, and his 
 arms nearly to the elbows and, singularly enough, the gar- 
 ments, if such they could be called, did not seem entirely unfamiliar 
 to her. But the man himself was an utter stranger: so she must 
 have been mistaken about his clothes. 
 
 "Indeed you need not be in the least alarmed," said he, rather 
 quickly and eagerly, " though it is likely enough you should be." 
 His voice was pleasant enough, and had the accent of a gentleman. 
 " I am neither a burglar, nor anything of that kind. You are a 
 woman or you will be one, some day. I don't suppose you have
 
 46 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 yet learned that it is the right thing to betray the hunted beast to 
 the hounds; of course, if you have, I am in your hands." 
 
 Rosamond was trembling all over: but all her knowledge of 
 life was innocent, and she was therefore spared the extremity of 
 fear. A boy might have been frightened enough, but Rosamond 
 was at any rate unconscious of having any more cause for fear 
 than if she hid bean * boy. Her heart was sound, and her health 
 perfect and those things mean courage, in whatever chance 
 humour the nerves may be. 
 
 Who are you?" she asked, in a voice that was at least 
 decently firm. 
 
 " First of all are you a Miss Fane ? Then, did you ever hear 
 of a place called Lowmoor ? But of course you have you know 
 all about it, I dare say ; but you never yet heard of a man escap- 
 ing from it. Very well I have escaped from Lowmoor." 
 
 So this was the very being whose freedom that gun had pro- 
 claimed ! And yet, startling as it was to learn that she was alone, 
 almost in the dark, with the creature which had spread fear and 
 confusion around, Rosamond was scarcely any longer surprised. 
 Indeed, it seemed to her now as if his presence in her own citadel 
 in Cliff Cottage were the most natural thing in the world in 
 short, as if she had stumbled unwittingly upon an actual spell, 
 and had really raised the spectre of which she had only dreamed. 
 
 " Are you ? " gasped she. 
 
 "Ah that is better! I see you are a brave girl. For that 
 matter, I expect you were a good bit less afraid, even when you 
 first felt my hand, than I was when I first saw you. I suppose 
 you think it's a strange place to find an escaped convict in the 
 house of a justice. Well, it was the last place where anybody 
 was likely to look for me, that's all. There's the whole story of 
 my escape from beginning to end doing precisely what would 
 occur to nobody in his senses. And now the same question comes 
 in what's the most unlikely thing for anybody in his senses to 
 do?" 
 
 As he spoke, rather to himself than to her, as if to give her 
 time for the recovery of startled nerves, a sense of reaction of 
 disappointment I hardly know the right word, began to come 
 over Rosamond. His language was too much like that to which 
 she had been accustomed, differing only in greater readiness and 
 fluency : in spite of his extraordinary costume, the man was far 
 too much like any mere ordinary man. He even seemed, instead
 
 A REAL QUEEN. ^ 
 
 of being mysterious and terrible, composed, subdued even heed- 
 fully gentle in his bearing. Had she been better acquainted wit'u 
 convicts, these very qualities would have seemed remarkable even 
 to the point of mystery. But, in her ignorance, she began to be 
 almost annoyed with herself that she could not contrive to be 
 appropriately afraid. 
 
 Wherefore it must be concluded that the convict, whatever 
 else he may have been, understood the indescribable and unteach- 
 able art of depriving those with whom he had to deal of at least 
 one set of defensive weapons their fears. Rosamond became 
 able to distinguish the man himself from the effect given him by 
 his clothes, and being with no prejudices, save of her own 
 making felt that his breadth of -best and shoulders, his length 
 of limb, and his Roman cast of features ought to be formidable, 
 not to the weak, but only to the strong. Being what she was, it 
 was hardly possible that she should fear strength, especially when 
 strength spoke gently. She began at last actually to think and, 
 thinking, wondered how she might best and soonest ensure the 
 man's escape by the way he came, and hurry back to her bed, 
 never to return to her cast]e after nightfall again. 
 
 But his next words though spoken as gently as by a woman 
 were these : 
 
 " A man in his senses he would begin by strangling you, and 
 hiding the body where it would take long to find, because dead 
 tongues tell no tales. I know how that would double my chances 
 and if I was taken in spite of them, I should, at any rate, be 
 better off than at Lowmoor, because I should be hanged and, 
 therefore, I'll do nothing of the kind. What would a man in his 
 senses not do ? " 
 
 He seated himself on the table, and absently began to turn 
 over the loose leaves of Rosamond's manuscript, but without 
 reading them. 
 
 "I will tell you," said he; "it's my one chance: 111 do it, 
 because it is the maddest thing in the world I'll trust a woman 
 and a strange woman, not with life, that's nothing, but with 
 liberty. I'm just run to earth here ; and needs must, when the 
 devil drives. Miss Fane, you are young ; that is to say, you are 
 still too wise to take for granted that when a gaol-bird says he 
 is innocent of all real crime, except that of gaol-breaking, he 
 must needs be lying. You must judge for yourself whether I'm 
 the kind of man, apart from these clothes, to have robbed, forged,
 
 48 A REAL 
 
 burnt hay ricks, or done anything else to fit myself for an idiot 
 asylum. The truth is, Miss Fane, that I am one of those poor 
 devils, more common than people, who are old and foolish, think 
 for, who am punished for nothing at all. I tell you that, on the 
 honour of a gentleman, which is a thing that a lady is bound to 
 believe. And now for my plan: I mean to stay here, in this 
 room, till one of two things happen ; till either you give me up to 
 injustice, or till the hunt has run by. I put myself into your 
 hands, even as Sisera did into Jael's." 
 
 " Here ? " faltered Rosamond. 
 
 H.-re. When you leave the room, you need only lock the 
 door and pocket the key. When you came in some half hour, 
 or whatever it was, ago you locked the door and then sat down 
 to your story. Of course that means that this out-of-the-way 
 comer of a rambling house is your own particular bower, where 
 you can rely upon being alone and undisturbed. Aye, and I 
 found the door locked from the outside when I squeezed myself 
 through the window. In short, this is your own citadel of 
 which you alone keep the key. Very good then nobody need 
 know of my presence in the house, save you and this most fortu- 
 nate heap of straw. If I am taken, I shall not envy you your 
 conscience, which has allowed you to betray an innocent man, 
 who trusts you because he has none else to trust to in the whole 
 wide world. If I starve but no, Jael did not starve Sisera 
 you might, hang a dog, but you'd hardly starve him. There, that 
 is my plan. And now you'd better go back to bed ; and 1 hope 
 you'll sleep hah* as well as I, who am going, on that straw, to 
 dream for the first time that I am free without its being only a 
 dream. Good night, Miss Fane, and take my thanks for the 
 brave, kind thing you are going to do for one who has put life, 
 liberty, faith, hope, all that he has, into your hands." 
 
 "I cannot! " cried Rosamond, not in the least disbelieving his 
 Assertions of innocence, but feeling, all in a moment, and with no 
 need of help from thought, all that the attempt to carry out 
 such a plan would mean ; " don't ask me ; I'm sorry if you are in 
 trouble that you don't deserve. I will help you out of the 
 house " 
 
 " As you will," said the convict, yawning and rubbing his 
 yes. " I have told you the circumstances. It is for you to decide 
 not me. Only, I won't leave the house. If I am to be taken 
 it shall be here, and it shall be by you. Sleep over it ; sleep is
 
 A PEAL QUEEN. 49 
 
 counsel, you know. Permit me, Miss Fane, if you will trust me 
 with your key for a moment, I will unlock the door." 
 
 It is not good to feel that another's will is making itself the 
 master of one's own. But it was not strange that the will of this 
 txceedingly singular convict was mastering one so ill-tried as 
 Rosamond's, fighting, as it was, upon such unfamiliar ground. 
 Had he commanded or threatened, she might have found courage 
 to escape : had he gone upon his knees and implored her to save 
 him, his object must have been injured by the contempt with 
 which weakness regards weakness. But he had simply trusted to 
 the honour which forbids treachery, assuming that such an appeal 
 cannot possibly be made from one human creature to another in 
 vain, and he had expressed his trust with a cool decision of manner 
 which was in itself a power, and with a dignity that even his 
 grotesque costume could not lessen, nay, rather increased by force 
 of contrast, and by giving the man's own personality an air of 
 essential superiority to all outward and accidental conditions. 
 She gave him the key. He unlocked and opened the door for her 
 to pass out, and returned her the key with a bow, neither too low 
 to seem theatrical, nor too slight for reverence and courtesy, and 
 gravely significant of present trust and future gratitude. 
 
 " Now you will kindly lock me in," said he ; " and for to-morrow, 
 you will, I hope, remember that you have a prisoner who has not 
 eaten anything but a handful of wheat-ears since breakfast-time 
 at Lowmoor. Good night, Miss Fane. You are a brave young 
 lady, and nobody can be brave without being true." 
 
 There was no need to bid her lock and double lock the door. 
 She listened for a moment, with beating heart, until she heard the 
 faint rustle of straw, and crept back into her bedroom and her 
 bed, as miserable as a girl could be, save for a lingering hope 
 that, when morning came, the whole of that night's work 
 would prove to be but the nightmare which its beginning had 
 seemed. 
 
 And indeed, when the night with all its mysteries was freely 
 blotted out, and the sun, already high in the sky, called all the 
 world to begin a new summer day, such an adventure could not 
 have seemed otherwise than a dream to man or woman, boy or 
 girl. From the very heaviest and most dreamless sleep she had 
 ever known, Rosamond was aroused by Sophy singing as a rule, 
 it was Rosamond's morning toilette that, waked Sophy. For a 
 whole long minute her mind was a clean blank ; she only knew 
 
 4
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 that she was awake and alive. And when the first memory of her 
 midnight watch came back, it was at first indeed with a shudder, 
 but then with a feeling of joyful relief that it had been but a bad 
 dream after all. 
 
 "Oh, Sophy!" she began, "I have had such a strange 
 
 Bat she was fairly awake now, and her mind grasped reality. 
 What was to be done P That escaped prisoner -was actually and 
 absolutely in the house ; and it depended upon her whether he was 
 straightway to be returned to all the vague terrors of Lowmoor, 
 or whether she was to burden herself with such a secret, and her 
 life with attempting to hide that which could not be hidden for 
 long. She turned round upon her pillow, affecting to have fallen 
 asleep again, until she might imagine what she ought to do. Of 
 course, she could go straight to Uncle ^Eneas, and tell him all. 
 It would not take long to send for a constable, or to Lowmoor, for 
 help, and her mind would once more be open and free. But no 
 it would be no such thing. If the man was in truth guiltless of 
 crime, how could she bring herself to be the means of re-setting 
 the world that world beyond the hills upon its work of cruelty, 
 injustice and wrong ? She felt that she would never know a single 
 happy moment again. And even if a real wolf, rightly pursued 
 by the hunters, had crawled into her castle, and, licking her hands, 
 had thrown himself upon her mercy, how could she find the heart 
 to betray the miserable wretch to its foes ? 
 
 Perhaps there are girls of her age perhaps even in Crossmarsh 
 who know how to distinguish between the opposing claims of 
 justice and honour, and would not feel called upon to sacrifice their 
 own peace of mind to Quixotic notions of loyalty to trusts im- 
 posed on them against their wills. Nevertheless, I hope and I 
 believe their good sense to be so rare, and I admire it so little, that, 
 were it shared by Rosamond, I should hold her at once too exceptional, 
 end too contemptible for her fortunes to be worth the following 
 let others take what view they please. Guilty or innocent of urx 
 known crimes, the man had spoken the simple truth in telling her 
 that his liberty his life it may be lay in the hands of a giri of 
 fifteen. How far an instinctive knowledge of the material he had 
 to woik upon had suggested his scheme she was not to know, and 
 even had she owned more prudence, the man's readiness to trust to 
 the honour of a stranger might have fairly argued honour in him. 
 
 " Wlieu are you going to get up ? " asked Sophy, long before 
 Rosamond had found a clue to the maze in which she was wander-
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 51 
 
 ing. " I'm nearly dressed, and in less than five minutes there'll 
 be the breakfast bell." 
 
 Well, there was no help for it. Rosamond must face her day, 
 all undecided and unprepared. She was not sorry to be late, how- 
 ever, since that would give her the reprieve of dressing alone. 
 She said nothing while crawling out of bed, and Sophy was her- 
 self in too much of a scramble, in order to make up for the conse- 
 quences of an over-long sleep, to take notice of her sister's silence. 
 Before the five minutes could have passed the bell rang, and Sophy 
 scampered downstairs. 
 
 How Rosamond envied Sophy ! It was the first time in her life 
 that she had woke to a single care and, for a first, what a care. 
 In spite of her lateness she did not hurry. But she was ready at 
 last to face her troubles, and went down with a sense of weight 
 dragging upon her and a weight was in truth dragging her, though 
 it was only the weight of a key. Even during the length of the 
 staircase she found time to ask herself a hundred questions a hundred 
 times Have they found that man in that room ? Have they not 
 found him ? Will they think that I look strangely, and ask me 
 questions to find out why ? And, above all, oh ! what ought I to 
 doP 
 
 Nothing, however, is less likely to happen than what we hope, 
 except what we fear. Rosamond looked to find everything as 
 usual her uncle in his place, devouring his toast and some newly 
 found flint in alternate mouthfuls, and Sophy doing her best to 
 delay the tea-making, so as to give her sister time to avoid the 
 charge of late rising. So much was she usually the first to be up 
 and down that her appearing last would have been a family event 
 on ordinary occasions, and have drawn the eyes of Uncle ^Eneas as 
 if to the sudden entrance of the Phoenician sun-dial. As it proved, 
 she heard voices in full talk, and recognised one of them as 
 Oswald's. So she crept in quietly under the cover of the 'conver- 
 sation, and avoided all but a general and including nod of good 
 morning. Oswald recognised her entrance, but the others were 
 intent upon what he was saying so intent that he could not stop 
 speaking : 
 
 " No, Mr. Fane I believe I know every inch of the cliffs and 
 every hole ; and we didn't miss a point where a man could have 
 gone over. And then " 
 
 " Is it possible," asked Uncle ^Eneas, " that he has gone over 
 
 where a man can't go over ? That " 
 
 4A
 
 5 3 
 
 A SEAL 
 
 Ah, you're thinking of that old business of Furnace Point P 
 No, it's impossible. He couldn't have reached the cliffs, reckon it 
 as we may, till the tide had turned, and if he had walked over the 
 edge his body must have been found on the shore. Besides, men 
 dqn't escape in order to kill themselves at least, not to kill them- 
 selves till there's nothing left to do. This fellow is young, Brown 
 says, and healthy and strong, and couldn't have escaped from a place 
 like Lowmoor without miracles of courage and skill. They can't 
 find out how it was done, even now, and he had been a gentleman, 
 they say, though a desperate sort of one. Brown, who's a sharp 
 fellow, tracked him close to Pix-Knoll that he can swear to. But 
 there's no hiding place within a mile of that, and if he'd taken to 
 any road, high or bye, in the prison dress, he'd be safe in Lowmoor 
 now." 
 
 " I needn't ask you, Oswald, if you've left no corner unex- 
 plored P" 
 
 " We could ride, between snuset and breakfast-time, over more 
 ground than a man could run. And a prisoner from Lowmoor 
 isn't likely to know the *>pes of the country let alone when he's 
 being tracked by one who's hunted, ani shot, and fished and birds'- 
 nested over it ever since he was born. Let me alone for that, 
 Uncle ./Eneas ; barring your own house, tXere isn't a spot in Cross- 
 marsh we haven't been over, high or low, land or shore." 
 
 "And you conclude he is alive, and at large? B'-t where ? " 
 
 " He couldn't have got out of Crossmarsh, for we ntc- 'ft have had 
 net*, of him. So, after all I've said, it's my firm belie\ that he's 
 still in this very neighbourhood ; though where iu the name of 
 miracles he can have chanced on a hiding place I don't know." 
 
 Oswald's idle mention of a place so impossible as her own house 
 for the convict's refuge drove all the colour from the cheek of Rosa- 
 mond. But, lest her confusion should be noticed, she spoke: 
 and 
 
 " IB it certain he has done is guilty of anything ? " asked shi. 
 
 " Bless the girl ! a convict an escaped convict from Low- 
 moor ! " exclaimed Uncle ^neas, in some surprise. " I must give 
 you some elementary readings in the law of England, my dear. 
 Well, Oswald, and what do you propose to do ? " 
 
 He mutt be caught. We can't have an escaped convict wander- 
 ing about at large. The houses won't be safe, nor a woman, nor a 
 child, nor a man who has got to go out alone with anything on him 
 wort 1 ' losing. Of course, everybody about the place has been
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 53 
 
 warned, and the police will see that there's no getting out cf the 
 circle within which he must be. Of course there'll be a reward 
 out, to make the people look alive. As for me well, I'm not 
 going to throw away my night's ride ; I'm going to have that 
 scoundrel dead or alive. I'm not going to give in when once I've 
 put my hand to anything ; no, whatever it may be." 
 
 As he spoke, he looked straightly at Rosamond : and her con- 
 scious blush made him believe that she had comprehended what 
 lay a^ the root of his words. For his " whatever it may be " meant 
 the uand and heart of Rosamond herself, and not the body of any 
 felon, dead or alive. Not that it was Oswald's way to boast, but 
 he meant the whole world to know that he was not to be turned 
 from the purpose of his life ; while, in his present mood, manly 
 action commended itself to him both as an outlet for his energy, a 
 salve for his suspense, and, in some indirect fashion, a way of 
 proving his devotion. Even so, in certain good old times, the way 
 to a lady's favour was identical with the path that led to enchanters' 
 caves, giants' castles, and dragons' dens. So long as love lasts will 
 that same knighthood last ; and here were knight to do, deed to be 
 done, and lady's eyes to see. 
 
 Could Oswald only have guessed that she whose steps abroad he 
 was preparing in the name of public safety to secure from peili: 
 could he have guessed that she was hiding the wizard, the dragon, 
 the giant, the evil knight, secret in her own bower ! For a 
 moment, seeing what the hunter, and not the quarry, thought of 
 the hunt, she was inclined to make a clean breast of it all. But 
 then it felt such a horrible thing to betray a fellow creature, bird, 
 beast, or man, to its pursuers it could not be done. Had Oswald 
 been less bent upon the man-hunt, it is possible she might have 
 made a confidant of her old playfellow, and all have ended well : 
 for it is not good that even the guiltless should be able to escape 
 unlawfully from the hands of the la V. She could trust Oswald, 
 eve) i as this hunted convict had trusted her; but, alas, she had 
 watcliiully read in his eyes and heard in the tones of his voice that 
 she could only trust him to do what he thought right, and that he 
 would never think it right to let this man go free. When would 
 breakfast be over, so that she might be free to think these things 
 out alone ? 
 
 Oh, if only they would search the house, and break down the 
 door of her castle, so long as that were done of their own motion, 
 and without treacherous hint or help from her ! That would be
 
 54 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 way out of the difficulty indeed so complete that it was some- 
 thing to pray for. But even as she had been ashamed last night 
 to pray against imaginary fears, so now it would be like taking a 
 mean advantage to ask the power of Heaven to do what would 
 soil her own hands ; to ask, as it were, an wigel to do dirty work 
 for her. If she had ever thought of betraying the convict, her 
 lips were sealed now. 
 
 "By the Lord Harry," suddenly exclaimed Uncle ./Eneas. "I 
 have it. I have him ! Aye, Oswald, by the heels 1 There's some- 
 thing in having an old brain, after all." 
 
 "Indeed," said Oswald: "Is there any place in Crossmarsh 
 where " 
 
 " Aye, my lad, there's sure to be. Don't worry yourself : after 
 your night's hunt you must be dog-tired. 111 111 set Silver 
 Mold warp on him : there! There's nothing in Crossmarsh that 
 Silver Moldwarp won't smell out. Ill have him round in half-an- 
 hour." 
 
 Alas there was no thought among them all of looking under 
 their feet, none. Why should there be P the houses of justices are 
 not chosen by escaped criminals to hide in. Uncle ./Eneas swal- 
 lowed his last mouthful of tea, pocketed his flint, and went out 
 to give orders for the immediate appearance of the man who could 
 find everything even Phoenician sun-dials. 
 
 Sophy vanished altogether. 
 
 Oswald lingered about for another word with Rosamond : but 
 he dared not listen to a word, lest she should betray what had 
 now grown into a secret that she must guard, or be a dishonoured 
 traitor. He could only misread her coldness, and ride off, either 
 back to Windgates, with his errand undone, or else further on his 
 search, to see if he, though unable to catch a girl, might at least 
 catch a man. 
 
 Rosamond seized the first chance of cutting off half the break- 
 fast loaf and carrying it to her castle door just when vanished 
 Sophy, by tha merest chance, happened to have her in full eight 
 from the top of the stairg.
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 5 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 And when they won to the walls of brick 
 
 That had tossed back battle with lightsome scorn 
 
 The builded bulwark and rampart thick 
 Were melt to the inist of a summer morn : 
 
 And when to the midmost keep they won 
 
 That a thousand knights might not hope to win, 
 
 Each gate of steel and each girth of stone, 
 As carven of cobweb, hath let them in. 
 
 AS she approached the door of her castle, Rosamond was 
 seized with an awful hope that the man who had shown 
 himself such an adept at imprisoning himself might have 
 disappeared again, either through the window, or the wall, or the 
 floor, or the roof, or by whatever path it was that he had entered. 
 It would be so much more than a relief it would be so simple and 
 natural to find that nothing had really happened after all. For 
 there are things so impossible that it is easier to disbelieve in the 
 memory of our own eyes and our own ears than to believe. What 
 a delight it would be to draw a free breath on finding her room 
 empty, and to feel herself without a secret once more ! 
 
 Everything was so silent as she listened at the door, with a 
 beating heart, that the wish it could be so almost grew up into the 
 hope that it might be so. The fear that it might not be so swal- 
 lowed up all the remains of meaner fear. She opened the door as 
 gently as possible. It was never really light there, owing to the 
 height of the windows, the badness of the glass, and the small- 
 ness of the panes. It was not immediately, therefore, that all 
 hope died away. Eut alas, the death of hope's last whisper had 
 to come. There, on the straw heap, sat the Man. 
 
 " Good morning, Miss Fane," said he, courteously and even 
 pleasantly, as she closed the door. " Ah and bread ! I was get- 
 ting so famished that I almost fancied you meant to get rid of me 
 by starvation. Give me the loaf, if you please. Did you ever 
 see a wolf killed, Miss Fane ? " 
 
 " A wolf ? " the word did not come agreeably from the lips of 
 this strong and wild-looking scare-crow. For the long night, and 
 the cold daybreak, and unbroken hunger, had done their work 
 upon him, and he was really looking, in broad daylight, the 
 desperate criminal that he professed not to be. 
 
 " Never ? Then you shall see me kill one now. But pray sit 
 down. It won't take long.'' 
 
 She did not obey the invitation to make herself at home in her 
 own room but 'woodst, ondering how all this was to end, while
 
 56 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 the convict tore the bread into huge fragments and devoured them 
 greedily. Not for five good minutes did he speak a single word. 
 At last he paused in his work, drew a strong sigh, and said, 
 
 " Do you bake at home ? " 
 
 " ^ < *," said Rosamond, with a start from her hopeless thought : 
 for, under the circumstances, so homely a question was surely the 
 most startling that could have been devised. 
 
 ilo we at Lowmoor : but nothing like this. ' Liberty and 
 a crust/ indeed ! this is liberty and Ambrosia. There the wolf Ls 
 pretty near dead now : at any rate asleep till dinner time. And 
 now to business. The rest of the bread won't hinder talking. But 
 while we talk, Miss Fane pray oblige me by taking a chair. 
 You would rather stand? Then so will I. In the first place, 
 Miss Fane" another bite, and an almost simultaneous swallow 
 " I mustn't forget manners. I must thank you for being kind 
 no, that would be nothing to you ; I mean I must thank you for 
 being brave. It wanted a little courage to come all alone with 
 that loaf to a hunted, heaven-forsaken man like me, when you 
 could have got rid of him in a moment, with a word or a scream. 
 Women are not often brave, Miss Fane, and men, poor creatures, 
 more seldom still. I was driven to trust you with more than my 
 life last night, because it was my one last desperate chance ; but 
 I hardly half-believed that I could trust you. I heard a mouse 
 scrambling once, outside the door ; and so sure was I that I had 
 fallen into a trap, that I thought you had brought the police or 
 the gaolers upon me : and if you had I wouldn't have blamed you. 
 A mouse wouldn't frighten you, Miss Fane but it frightened me. 
 Do you know what made me trust you through thick and " 
 another bite and swallow " thin ? This was it not a triumph 
 of literature, but written with a pen dipped into a heart for an 
 inkstand, and a good big heart too. I knew the hand that wrote 
 this? said he, bringing down his fist upon her pile of scrawl, 
 "wouldn't deprive even a real wolf of bread and water and open 
 , air." 
 
 Something like the maternal instinct the only thing that fears 
 nothing arose in Rosamond at seeing her brood of fancies covered 
 by a strange hand, and at hearing that they had already been pro- 
 faned by sacrilegious eyes. In any case, perhaps, no shame, in 
 point of heat and sharpness, equals the shame of being detected 
 in a first act of authorship, where the fancy is concerned. If 
 Uncle ./Eneas had been the criminal, she would have wished for
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 57 
 
 the floor to open and cover her even Sophy, her intended public, 
 was not to set eyes on a word until the moment, if it should ever 
 come, when the last word was written and copied ; and even then 
 she might lack the courage, even if she should retain the desire. 
 This had been written only for the writing's sake, as children 
 write : and it may be that she held to it all the more closely, as 
 half conscious that she was too quickly out-growing its inspira- 
 tion, just as a girl may make a younger girl an excuse for playing 
 with her doll, or as a boy who has become half a man may still 
 hide away his old make-believes in a dark corner of his heart, 
 to take them out and play with them when he is quite sure that 
 he is quite alone. 
 
 " Give me my papers ! " she said, feeling like a detected criminal 
 but speaking like a real Queen. " You have no right those are 
 my papers, and this is my room ! " 
 
 "And therefore my place of refuge," said he. "Of course I 
 hadn't a shadow of a right to read this romance of yours. Of 
 course I haven't a ghost of a right to be here at all. But I don't 
 beg pardon for either. I've read you in your romance, Miss Fane; 
 and I feel as safe here as if I had your wizard's invisible ring. 
 You can no more betray a man to whom you have given bread 
 than Flora Macdonald could have given up Prince Charley. Could 
 you yes or no ? " 
 
 But there was no need to read her writings in which, after all, 
 an author is mostly prone to paint himself as he is not to feel 
 that Rosamond Fane could no more betray a trust than she could 
 give up her worst enemy to his pursuers. With all his masterful 
 ease of manner, this condemned soul (according to her theories 
 of Lowmoor) was inspiring her with a dread which felt, to her 
 innocence, almost like what she fancied must be hate: and 
 his having read the secret of her life gave him the kind of 
 awful influence that comes of knowing all the mysteries of one's 
 mind and soul. 
 
 " I have done all I can," said she. " Tkis is not my house, though 
 it is my room. You if you were my own sister, I could do 
 nothing for you; nothing in the world." 
 
 " In fact, you are as anxious to be clear of me as I assuredly am 
 or rather assuredly was to be clear of you. Well ? " 
 
 " Perhaps if you are not found I can manage to bring you 
 something to eat : just once more before you go. But you will be 
 found. Mr. Fane, my uncle, is a magistrate ; Silver Moldwarp has
 
 58 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 been sent for, who finds out everything ; Oswald Mr. Hargrave 
 who knows every inch of all the land, is riding after you every- 
 where " 
 
 " And therefore the only place for me is the only place where 
 Silver Moldwarp, who finds everything, and Oswald Mr. Hargrave 
 who rides everywhere, will neither look nor ride." He spoke 
 in a tone she had not yet heard from him, and she did not under- 
 stand it, for she had never yet, so strange a place was Crossmarsh, 
 seen or heard a sneer. " Who is Oswald Mr. Hargrave ? And 
 what has he to do with the affair P " 
 
 " Mr. Hargrave, of Windgates," said she, stiffly. " He is not 
 likely to let go anything that he once takes up till it is done." 
 
 The convict growled something to himself, in which more accus- 
 tomed ears might have recognised words hardly suited to a girl's 
 ears. " I never counted on that wind ! " said he. " Well if one 
 trusts a man, one tells some woman ; if one trusts a woman, one 
 tells some man. Of course, he has read this romance of yours, this 
 Mr. Hargrave, of Windgates? He may find me here, without 
 riding P " 
 
 Not even the faded remembrance of what had passed yesterday 
 in the greenhouse rendered Rosamond conscious that her mention 
 of a man by his Christian name had at once suggested the conclu- 
 sion that he must needs be her lover to her most unwelcome guest. 
 There are girls, scarcely older in years, who would have read in 
 the words, in the passing sneer, and in the suppressed eagerness of 
 the half-question, something deeper than an escaped convict's dread 
 of discovery that is to say, jealousy. He had, beyond question, 
 too much to think of to have a thought for love-making at first or 
 second sight, even were such a thing under any conditions oufr- 
 rageously absurd : but danger, and hunger, and loneli ness, and weari- 
 ness, and watching will make their victim melt at the faintest touch 
 of long unknown kindness, and a girl's voice had become a new 
 sight, a girl's voice a new sound, to the ex-inmate of Lowmoor. 
 The girl who was not Rosamond would have felt, at least, one thrill 
 of fearful pride before leaving the room and closing the door upon 
 this gaunt, perhaps desperate, certain evilly handsome scarecrow 
 for good and all. Even Rosamond herself could not help feeling 
 indignant, though she knew not wholly why. 
 
 " Nobody ever comes into this room but myself," she exclaimed 
 imprudently, forgetting that the opposite belief would be the most 
 efficient means of scaring him away "Nobody in the world I *
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 59 
 
 Three taps on the door count one, two, three, four two taps 
 count three one blow. 
 
 The convict, as well he might, started and turned pale. It was 
 clearly a signal of some sort and, to a man with only himself 
 to think of, what thing could it mean but one ? Rosamond could 
 almost hear the clench of his teeth, as he threw upon her a look of 
 upbraiding no ; she could never betray him now. That reproach- 
 ful glance, thrown by a strong man, who believed himself betrayed, 
 and by her, would have been past her bearing if it had been de- 
 served. In fancy, before there was time for the next count, she felt 
 the remorse of a traitor: come now what might, her course was 
 sealed. 
 
 "Quick, quick! " slie could only whisper, "hide yourself under 
 the straw and don't rustle or move." How Rosamond, even Rosa- 
 mond, who had never before had a secret in her life, should be sud- 
 denly inspired with the sole shift for keeping so great an one, belongs 
 to the chapter of mysteries and of common things. 
 
 She was as long as possible in opening the door, since for a long 
 man to hide himself under a straw heap is by no means so easy as 
 it sounds. But it was done as quickly as it might ; and Rosamond, 
 having thrown a glance round the room to make sure that there 
 was nothing in sight that might tell tales to Sophy's sharp eyes, 
 answered the signal. 
 
 " What is the news now ? " she asked, trying to fill the doorway. 
 " Am I wanted, again ? Oh, Sophy, BO busy as I am, I only wish 
 the world would leave me alone ! " 
 
 " Silver Moldwarp's come and of course, I thought," said Sophy, 
 while her eyes tried to look over Rosamond's head into the farther 
 twilight, " I thought you would like to know." 
 
 " Does he guess anything ? Does he think he can find " 
 
 " I don't know. He's with Uncle ./Eneas now. But you ought 
 to come down and see him he's such a figure of fun ! He always 
 did wear the strangest sort of clothes ; but he must have bought of 
 a beggar those he's got now. Do go and look at him, Rosamond ; 
 I'll guard your castle while you're gone." 
 
 Rosamond's secret felt as if it were choking her she would as 
 soon have left Sophy alone with it as a cat with a basin of cream. 
 "No, no," she gasped, "I don't want to see Silver Mold warp and 
 certainly not his old clothes. Anyhow that that man, he isn't 
 found?" 
 
 " I only wish he were ! Please don't shut yourself up to-day ; I
 
 60 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 don't like to go about the house alone. We don't believe in ghoats, 
 of course not in real ones: but I've been fancying myself seeing 
 things ever since breakfast, and hearing things, too ; aud I don't 
 like it at all." 
 
 " Hearing things ! What things P " 
 
 "Strange voices, and things like those. I wouldn't go back 
 through the lumber room and along the passage alone for the 
 world. It seemed as if people were talking in your castle not 
 out loud, nor whispering, but between. I thought you never would 
 open the door ! " 
 
 Rosamond's heart was sinking deeper and deeper she had for- 
 gotten that stone walls have voices, and that Sophy had ears as 
 well as eyes. " Voices ? " she asked in a faint voice, that harmon- 
 ised well with the touch of panic in her sister's humour. " What 
 did they say P " 
 
 " That was the worst of it," said Sophy. " I couldn't make out 
 a single word. Do you think the house is haunted ? I should lose 
 my senses if I was to sit all alone in a dark empty room like you. 
 I mutt come in, till you're ready to go. I feel as if that horrible 
 wretch they're trying to find was coming down the passage 
 after me. I)o come into the garden, Rosamond it's sunshine 
 there." 
 
 It would have been easy enough for Rosamond to lock the door 
 ai.xl go back at once to the living rooms or the garden ; but she 
 was still but a tyro in plotting, and she fancied it would look 
 suspicious if she refused admission into her castle-tower. It is 
 true she had done so fifty times before, out of nothing but whim ; 
 but now she had become afraid to move a finger, lest that finger 
 itself should prove a traitor. As for looking so much as the hall 
 clock straight in the face, she felt that she would never have the 
 courage to do such a thing again. So she made way for Sophy to 
 enter, and followed in an agony, from which the only attainable 
 relief was to press her finger-nails hard into her palms. 
 
 " No," said Sophy, " I can not make out what makes you so fond 
 of sitting here. But what a lot you have written, to be sure. 
 What have you been doing with dry bread P I saw you with the 
 rest of the loaf after breakfast, and there's nothing left of it but 
 crumbs, and not many of them." 
 
 " Bread P Oh, I often get hungry when I'm working," faltered 
 Rosamond a reason as true to the letter as was ever made by a 
 hungry girl who grew in sea air. " Yes, the story is nearly done
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. fti 
 
 low. I I wish it had never been begun. I know what we'll do, 
 Sophy ! We'll take it out into the garden, now, this minute, and 
 I'll read it you as far as it's gone." 
 
 " But there are ghosts in it, aren't there and murderers ? " 
 
 "Yes, plenty!" 
 
 " Then, Rosamond, I think I'd rather wait till it's quite finished. 
 T want to get all that sort of people out of my eyes and ears. Not 
 that I mind them so much, any more, now that I'm here with you. 
 After all, it's snug to have a castle all to one's self, and all one's 
 own. When you're married to Oswald oh, yes, / know ! I'll 
 take this for myself, only I won't keep it just like it is now. I'd 
 have company I'll have a big cage for canaries, and two or three 
 dogs, and a kitten, and perhaps an owl. And good gracious, 
 Rosamond ! what is the matter with that straw ? " 
 
 Poor Rosamond felt that she was indeed bearing the very last 
 straw. 
 
 " What straw ? " she gasped, as well as her throat would let 
 her. 
 
 ' I saw it it moved ! " 
 
 "And you heard voices ! and you saw ghosts ! " cried Rosamond, 
 who had almost foreknown what must come. But she also knew 
 that she must hold out to the last, for honour's sake, and let herself 
 be torn in quarters by wild horses, if need' were, rather than let so 
 contemptible a thing as cowardice betray the man who had trusted 
 his all to her courage. " Come, Sophy, I will see Silver Moldwarp 
 after all." 
 
 " One minute, Rosamond ; I must see if there's anything under 
 that straw ! " 
 
 Rosamond contrived to place herself between Sophy and the far 
 from easy bed where the convict lay. 
 
 " No, Sophy, what nonsense ! What should there be ? " 
 
 " It might be a mouse, or a bat, or a cat with kittens. It might 
 be something that would do for my room, you know." 
 
 It was too latt to repent the over-cleverness which had let this 
 irrepressible detective into the room. That Sophy would dive into 
 the straw-heap, unless very speedily prevented by some extra- 
 ordinary means, was as certain as that the convict was hidden 
 there. And then ? Then either Rosamond must either have to 
 bear the life-long remorse of feeling herself responsible for the 
 return to Lowmoor of a condemned soul, or else the thought was 
 not too horrible to rise up before her like the apparition she had
 
 fe A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 conjured up last night this desperate man might prefer the doing 
 of murder to the loss of liberty. She could be almost willing, for 
 her own part, to lose life if that were the only means of getting 
 rid of her secret but, if Sophy, groping among the straw for a 
 kitten or ft mouse, were suddenly to be grasped round the throat by 
 the hand of a murderer? Rosamond turned faint, and for a 
 moment the light of day turned to a chaos of sparks, and the air 
 seemed filled with the buzzing of beea. Only by a desperate effort 
 die gathered herself together. 
 
 "Sophy," said she, "do me a real favour please ; pray don't 
 look under that straw." 
 
 Oh, Rosamond f Why P " asked Sophy. "What care you have 
 bidden that I'm not to see P " 
 
 The sisters were really very like boy and girl, or Rosamond 
 would surely have known better than to think that the way to 
 keep a secret is to implore that it shall not be unlocked, so long as 
 the key is in the door. 
 
 " Nothing ; you'll know some day ; at least perhaps you will." 
 
 It was a challenge to a game of hide and find : for how could 
 Sophy dream that Rosamond was not making up some new play ? 
 Rosamond's one real secret was her story; and even that was 
 shared with Sophy, as were all other things. 
 
 " Oswald says you are a real witch," said she, " and that you 
 come here to work real spells. Do you keep your what is it they 
 call it your Familiar under that straw ? " 
 
 u Perhaps," said Rosamond. " But please, pray, never mind 
 what it is now. I want to go out. Please don't tease me now." 
 
 Even Sophy, struck by something in her voice, and perhaps in 
 her face, began to think that all this mystery was something more 
 than play. 
 
 " 111 tell you what it is," said she, with her best grown-up- 
 woman-of-the^world air ; " you've been seeing things, and hearing 
 whispers and strange talking, as well as me. They all came from 
 your castle : and, now we're in the castle, it all seems to belong to 
 the straw. " I'm not going to be frightened by bogeys, nor shall 
 you. Ghosts are nonsense, you know and there's nothing in the 
 house that could hurt us, if it's alive. And so here goes ! " 
 
 " Sophy 1 " cried Rosamond, holding out both her arms to bar. 
 the way. 
 
 But Sophy, though not famous for courage before known and 
 intelligible dangers, would have charged a regiment of soldiers i
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 63 
 
 they barred her way to the ghost of a secret, and have opened 
 Pandora's box or Bluebeard's chamber, as surely as if she had been 
 christened Eve. In an instant she had dived under Rosamond's 
 right arm, and was scattering the straw. 
 
 Rosamond fancied she beard a scream, but could not tell whether 
 the cry was Sophy's or her own. In truth it was her own : but it 
 was audible only to herself voice and limbs were paralysed as by 
 nightmare. Had the moment been less terrible, she must have 
 swooned. And then 
 
 " There ! " cried Sophy, in triumph. " As if I didn't know there 
 was nothing at all, all the time !" 
 
 Had Rosamond indeed lost her senses ? or had the con?ict 
 indeed been but a monstrous apparition, created of overv rought 
 fancies and dreams. There stood Sophy, waist deep in the scattered 
 steraw. But there was neither cat nor convict, murderer nor man. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BIB MIDAS. 
 
 If yon had seen, sir, half that I have Known t 
 Spirits from space in flesh-and-blood-like form 
 (Materialised, we term it) if you'd seen 
 Twice two make five, and chairs with tables dance, 
 And great Lord Bacon taught in other worlds, 
 Come back to jabber like the parish fool, 
 And harps, unfingered, twang themselves, and all 
 The laws of Newton topsy-turvy- wise 
 You'd surely, sir, have faith ? 
 
 COLONEL HOTWELL. 
 
 I would indeed 
 In Doctor Bolus : and I'd send for him. 
 
 " i~\F course," said Silver Moldwarp, with a slightly superior 
 
 I i smile, of course they'll find neither nothing nor nobody if 
 
 they go to work that way. That's the fault of all the regular 
 
 detectives, sir. They think to find a thing by looking. But that 
 
 aren't my way." 
 
 " I know you're a clever fellow, Moldwarp," said Uncle .^Eneas, 
 who was giving his prime minister a private audience in the 
 library ; "that's why I sent for you. But what is your way ? " 
 
 " That's their mistake, sir to think they'll find things by look- 
 ing. And whetKer it's a Flint or whether it's an Eleflint, the prin- 
 ciple's the same. The way to find a thing's by not looking." 
 
 " By not looking ? Bless my soul ! " 
 
 " That's right, sir. What's the way, if you're lost a-horseback,
 
 64 A HEAL QUERN. 
 
 to find the trtg-n road, but to give the animal his hearf and leive 
 him to instinc', sir? That's my way. When I want to find 
 anything, I get on the back of instinc', and straight I go: but I 
 could never tell you how I got there for a hundred pounds. The 
 others can always tell you the way they went, but 'tis always to 
 nowhere. Now, sir, do you think it likeiy a desperate character, 
 and as cunning as an old fox, would go where any mortal soul 
 would think of looking for him? No, sir ; you don't think any- 
 thing of the kind. And you're right, sir just as you always are 
 right, and as I never know'd you wrong. Ah, Mr. Fane, begging 
 your pardon, you've that eye for an axe as'd puzzle old Harry to 
 take in you." 
 
 " Well, Moldwarp," said Uncle ^Eneas, " I certainly do think 
 Mr. Hargrave over confident in supposing that the rascal could be 
 discovered by means of mere topographical knowledge. What 
 you sav only confirms my own original view. But you under- 
 stand the gravity of the occasion ? Here is a desperate character 
 from Lowmoor at large in Crossmarsh, if he's anywhere. If he is 
 finally to make good his escape, he must manage to supply him- 
 self with food, money, and clothes. Not a house in the parish is 
 safe as long as he is at large. Not a man can safely go out after 
 dark, nor a woman at all. As you say, the authorities have 
 lamentably broken down. You suppose he is in Crossmarsh, 
 Moldwarp ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I do. He couldn't have cleared the parish in his 
 prison clothes ; and if he had changed 'em, by force or trick, we'd 
 have heard tell of it long afore now." 
 
 "Of course therell be a reward issued for his apprehension. 
 But, whatever it is, I, on my own account, as the principal resident 
 in this parish, will add fifty pounds to whoever gives such infor- 
 mation as will lead to the apprehension of this Lawrence Derwent 
 yes, fifty pounds. Great Heaven ! To think there's an escaped 
 convict about, in the same parish with a house like this, Mold- 
 warp with a museum of flints worth their weight in gold ! n 
 
 " Aye, sir to think of that indeed ! " 
 
 " This house is a national responsibility, Moldwarp. Suppose 
 the man were to break in some night and carry off some priceless 
 link in the history of the aboriginal Phoenicians the labour of 
 a life, and the intentions of Providence, might be destroyed. 
 While that man is at large and exposed to such temptations in the 
 hapo of flints, I shall not be able to sleep in my bed, and be unlit
 
 A ItEAL QUEEN. 65 
 
 for my work all next day. It is worth paying fifty pounds for 
 peace of mind." 
 
 " I'll give you that, sir leastways, a piece of my mind. And 
 that's not to trust overmuch to a young gentleman like Mr. Har- 
 grave. He's young, you see ; and if he goes scouring all over the 
 country, he'll find nothing himself, and he'll only spoil the game 
 of them that can. A young gentleman, gallopingthat gait, would 
 scare away that Fenian Sun-Dyle. If I'm to earn that fifty pound 
 I must earn it my own way. And I can't if you don't put in a 
 word to hinder Mr. Hargrave." 
 
 " Well, Moldwarp there is sense in what you say. But you 
 said something ahout a sun-dial, a Phoenician sun-dial ; how do 
 you know that if there's one thing wanting to be found what do 
 you know of such things ? What put the idea into your mind ? " 
 
 For a moment, Mr. Moldwarp looked a little disconcerted. But 
 it was only a moment before he scratched his head and smiled 
 again his superior smile. " There it is, sir ! I couldn't tell you 
 how ! You might as well ask a bee how he knows there's honey 
 in a flower. He'd only buzz and that buzz would mean natural 
 instinc', Mr. Fane. That's how I find things, and no other way." 
 
 " Aye, Moldwarp, but I don't understand how a man hits on 
 things by chance, without knowing what's wanted." 
 
 " As you say, sir, 'tis just beyond mortal understanding ; nobody 
 that understands things is ever able to do anything any more. 
 Why don't you find the axes and the flints P because you 
 understand 'em. What comes of my not knowing one from 
 t'other ? why I find 'em. If you, sir, was to understand the 
 works of my mind 'twould be all the same as if I was to 
 understand yours, and then we'd be of no more use than if 
 we understood why we was both born." 
 
 " Well, well," said Uncle yEneas, hastily, not wholly convinced, 
 but not caring to follow farther in the direction of so unwelcome 
 a conclusion as that Silver Moldwarp might not be so complete 
 an ignoramus as his patron choose to believe him. "Well, well: 
 J dare say that's all very true. I'll speak to Hargrave ; the lad's 
 reasonable at least, in most things and he'll see the need of 
 your setting to work in your own way. And about this Lawrence 
 Derwent how are you going to begin ? " 
 
 " That's instinc', sir ! " 
 
 " But bless my soul, instinct isn't dumb, I suppose ? What 
 does it say?" 
 
 5
 
 66 A HEAL 
 
 Uncle /Eneas would far sooner have lost confidence in himse'lf 
 than in Silver Moldwarp ; but impatience to justify his own faitii 
 in the man who could find everything rendered him impatient, and 
 the impatience expressing itself somewhat testily, may have seemed 
 to Moldwarp in the slightest degree flavoured with suspicion. At 
 any rate, he thought it advisable to satisfy his patron's desire for 
 something definite by suggesting something in the shape of prac- 
 tical course of action. 
 
 u Instinc' says, sir, says she, that 111 take the boat out of the 
 boat-house, and course along under the cliffs, and overhaul the 
 holes and caves. If that scoundrel's neither drowned nor dry ho 
 must be between the two. And if he's in a hole, sir, 111 spot him 
 with half an eye. He must have scrambled up, or scrambled down, 
 and if there's a scratch on the rock, or pebble out of place, 
 or a tuft of grass awry, 111 know if it's been done by man or 
 cony and there's none else to leave a mark except myself, 
 and I know my own marks as sure as sure. That's the voice 
 of instinc', Mr. Fane." 
 
 " Aye, Moldwarp, and of reason too. I said from the begin- 
 ning that the man would make for the caves, but you'll want 
 help?" 
 
 " No, thank you, sir. Helping's hindering, all over the world. 
 Ill just go along with the tide, and the pair of sculls. Another 
 man would be interfering with instinc', and may be asking why 
 I did this? and, why I didn't do that? or went here, or didn't 
 go along there, till I didn't know sense from reason. I'll have 
 him, if he's alive. And if he's not alive, why he's drowned. And 
 you won't say a word to Mr. Hargrave, sir, if you please except 
 to tell him not to go scattering my flints, and, maybe breaking 
 to bits things you'd like to have found whole." 
 
 " Bless my soul, Moldwarp that's true. I never thought of 
 what might come of riding about the country off the roads. 
 "Why that confounded mare's shoe might strike on a Phoenician 
 sun Better let fifty convicts loose than have that happen. I'll 
 toll him ! Come in ! " 
 
 " Uncle," said Sophy, opening the door without coming in. 
 
 " Well, what is it ? Don't you see I'm busy with Moldwarp ? " 
 
 " I want you to come to Rosamond, if you please, uncle. I'm 
 afraid she's ill." 
 
 * * 
 
 Rosamond was not ill. But it was not strange that she seemed
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 67 
 
 so : it would, not have been wonderful if she were. Not only had 
 she been living under the burden of an intolerable secret, but the 
 unaccountable disappearance of the convict from his hiding place 
 and from the room itself made havoc of her whole mind. Unless 
 she had been dreaming, he had been there. The straw heap had 
 moved before her own eyes as well as before Sophy's ; he could not 
 have left it without being seen by her, as well as by the quickest 
 eyes in the world ; there was no other hiding place in that empty 
 room, and the window was too high for a tall man to reach with- 
 out using either the chair or table. And yet he had vanished, as 
 completely as if he had never been there at all, 
 
 When Sophy first plunged into the straw, she had half covered 
 her eyes with her hands ; when she removed them, all sense of 
 relief was lost in incredulous wonder. Were magic and witch- 
 craft real had she, while engaged in the creation of apparitions, 
 been playing with edged tools and fire ? Was the occupation, or 
 the crime, of the condemned souls in Lowmoor truly of a sort 
 that defied and over-turned the laws of nature? Mr. Pitcairn 
 had told her tales of Indian conjurers of the great basket trick, 
 and how a man can throw a rope's end into the air, and climb up 
 the rope, coiling it after him till he and it are out of sight, and 
 seemingly lost midway to the sky. But this feat was to the full 
 as wonderful as these ; it was the work rather of a wizard, who 
 can control nature for great ends, than of a conjurer who is hired 
 only to surprise and amuse. With awe of Lowmoor deepened in 
 her, she was in the mood to give way to 2t, belief in magic and in 
 all maddening things. 
 
 " Into the air ! " was all she could say to Sophy, who, wondering 
 at her sudden paleness, and change of voice, took her sister's hand 
 and led her from the chamber of mystery. Then, safely away at 
 last from an atmosphere that seemed charged with a necromancer's 
 fumes, she lay down upon the sofa in the parlour, with flowers 
 within, and the window open to the sunshine and birds, and closed 
 her eyes. She neither faulted nor slept ; but yet, for some need- 
 ful instants of rest, her mind and memory became closed. It was 
 the instinct of health and strength to preserve themselves ; and 
 health and strength were Rosamond's fairy godmothers, who had 
 promised never to fail her whatever migfeS Betide. 
 
 But Sophy, who had never seen sickness except in a labourer's 
 cottage, was alarmed ; and Rosamond's next living sensation was 
 the sight of her uncle's anxious face, who bent over her and held 
 
 5 A
 
 68 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 her hand. He was as sparing as his favourite flints of the signs 
 of affection ; and Rosamond's heart, touched to its depth, felt like 
 a criminal's. The need of confession healthily possessed her, and 
 confession no longer meant so much as the imagination of trea- 
 chery. If the human-seeming creature had ever been there, he 
 was gone now, and cafe, no doubt, in some region where nature 
 has no laws, and where such things as this can be. 
 
 II. r uncle listened in silence as she contrived, incoherently 
 enough, to deliver the story of her nightmare, while Sophy sat 
 at her feet in fascinated amaze. She was not interrupted by a 
 word : and even when she had finished, Uncle ^Eneas did not ask 
 her a single question. He only shook his head gloomily. 
 
 " Yes, yes, my dear," he said, " I daresay I've no doubt it all 
 happened just exactly as you say. We oughtn't to have let you 
 hear about such things. Justice work, and men like that and 
 their doings, aren't fit things to fill little girls' brains. I think 
 you'd better go to bed and go to sleep. I don't wonder at your 
 lying awake, with all my coins and flints in the house ; I must 
 buy a safe and put everything into it every night at bedtime. See 
 your sister upstairs to her room, Sophy, and when you've seen 
 her in bed come back to me." 
 
 " Bed, uncle ! " exclaimed Rosamond. " No ; why half the day 
 hasn't gone, and I'm as well " 
 
 "Yes, yes, my dear. No doubt you're perfectly well, but 
 you'll go to bed all the same. Sophy, take your sister to her 
 room." 
 
 Uncle ^Eneas did not often interfere with his nieces' liberty, but 
 old-fashioned obedience to lawful authority was one of the laws 
 of their life, and Rosamond did not dream of rebellion and, for 
 that matter, she was growing hungry for rest and solitude. The 
 companionship of Sophy would only be a burden to her for some 
 hours to come. 
 
 " Then uncle," she asked, as she rose from the sofa, " then you 
 don't think all I saw was true P " 
 
 " God bless my soul, no bless my soul, yes, I mean. But don't 
 worry over it any more, there's a good girl ; don't be afraid of the 
 man any more. He's gone, and Moldwarp will find him, and then 
 hell be kept safe enough, you may be sure, for the rest of his 
 days for he's in for life, I'm told. There, go to sleep like a good 
 girl, and forget it all." 
 
 " And and you don't think I did wrong P"
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 69 
 
 , no : don't worry, that's all. Be off with you, and don't 
 let me hear about it any more." 
 
 " Oh, Rosamond," said Sophy, on their way upstairs, " and have 
 you really been hiding that prisoner, all alone ? 1 wonder you 
 aren't dead of fear ! Why didn't you scream, and call up the 
 house ? Why didn't you call me ? " 
 
 " Indeed, Sophy, I can't tell you all about it now, I must think 
 it all out, for I'm sure there must be something about it all that 
 can't be really true. Sophy, forgive me. I'll never try to hide 
 anything from you any more. It's the first time, and the last too, 
 so forgive me please do. But how could I give up that poor run- 
 away P You'd have done just like I did, indeed." 
 
 " Indeed, I wouldn't though," said Sophy, " I should have run 
 away back to bed, and hid under the clothes. I don't pretend to 
 be brave, like you," she added, for Rosamond was still her heroine 
 and her chief, and she felt that her heroine had somehow risen to 
 the occasion, though she hardly comprehended how. 
 
 " Will you forgive me, dear ? " asked Rosamond, humbly, the 
 larger nature bowing before the smaller, as is the way of larger 
 natures, always and everywhere. 
 
 "Of course I do. And and I think I'll never try to find 
 things out again, only I do wonder how he got away. I must find 
 out that, or else I shall never be able to rest in my grave." 
 
 " I'm afraid, Sophy, there are a great many things that we'd 
 much better not try to understand. I don't want anything to 
 happen any more. I want things to go on just as they are for 
 ever. Promise me you'll never marry anybody, Sophy. If you 
 won't I never will." 
 
 " What not Oswald ? " 
 
 " No nobody." 
 
 " Then, neither will I. But you're quite sure you'll never have 
 any secrets from me any more ? " 
 
 Rosamond laid down upon her bed without undressing. Sophy 
 brought her book and then returned to Uncle ^Eueas in the 
 library. 
 
 " Ah, there yow are," he said, stopping in the middle of an im- 
 patient walk up and down the room. " Have you seen her safe 
 upstairs ? " 
 
 " Yes, uncle. But how did he get away P " 
 
 " Then say nothing to the other servants, but go into the yard 
 or up the long garden, and find Pritchard, and tell him to rid
 
 jo A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 over to the village, and give this note at once to Dr. Hawker, and 
 to trot fast all the way." 
 
 " Dr. Hawker, uncle P " 
 
 " Bless my soul, yea who else, when Rosamond's got the fever 
 on the brain P But don't say a word about that to Pritchard, or 
 to another soul about the place till Hawker's been. They might 
 
 think it catching " 
 
 " Then you don't believe, uncle 
 
 " Bless the child, no ! As if an escaped convict would hide 
 in the house of a justice as if he could get in, and, being in, as 
 if he could get out again absurd ! And, on her own showing, 
 there was no convict convicts at Lowmoor don't treat young 
 ladies, and a houseful with throats to cut, and of priceless arch- 
 aeological treasures to steal, in that fine gentlemanly sort of way. 
 She's been reading too many story-books, and has been patching up 
 a r6chauff6 of Claude Duval, or some such lady-killing scoundrel. 
 I shall overhaul that lumber room, not for convicts, but for books ; 
 and if I find what I expect, 111 take a leaf out of old Don Quixote, 
 and have a bonfire without waiting for November. That straw 
 will come in well. And do I believe that a man of flesh and blood 
 can vanish, like a hobgoblin on a broomstick, through solid walls ! " 
 
 "Oh, uncle? Is she ill?" 
 
 " She's been scared about that convict being at large, and it's 
 got to her brain. But she mayn't be seriously ill if Hawker gets 
 here pretty soon." 
 
 Off ran Sophy. Illness had never yet come to the cottage, and 
 she scarcely knew how to feel towards it when it did come. Could 
 it mean that Rosamond might die ? But nothing like that could 
 happen that would mean the end of the world. Of course her 
 uncle was right, and Rosamond could really have seen nothing; 
 but Sophy remembered how she herself had been tricked by phan- 
 tom voices along the passage, and how she herself had seen the 
 straw-heap move. Had she also received a touch of fever on the 
 brain ? But, with this appalling shadow hanging over Rosamond, 
 she had reason enough for feeling fevered now. Having delivered 
 her message to Pritchard, the groom and gardener, with an at- 
 tempt at prudence and reticence that suggested nothing less than 
 a sudden outbreak of plague, and with an evasion of questions 
 that amounted to exaggerated answers, she crept back to the 
 house, and, not daring to disturb her sister, gave herself up to 
 tears until she was tired.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 7* 
 
 Rosamond, alone at last, and free from the burden of her secret, 
 closed her eyes, and wished and wished so strongly that the wish 
 almost persuaded her that her night and morning had been a 
 dream, and nothing but a dream, or, at any rate, a visitation from 
 that unknown and lawless world beyond the hills. People who 
 are unused to wonders, believe in them when they come more 
 easily than those who live in an atmosphere of strange things. 
 At last, however, the sense of infinite relief possessed her ; and, 
 after her sleepless night, set her sleeping. She slept so sound and 
 so long that she knew nothing, towards the end of the afternoon, 
 of the visit of Dr. Hawker, who, having heard her story, came 
 and shook his head over her, and very properly ordered that on no 
 account should she be disturbed. " She's called in Dr. Nature," 
 said he, " and I won't interfere till he goes. When he gives up 
 the case, call me again. It's a case of cerebral excitement ; but I 
 hope that inflammation may be averted with proper care. Miss 
 Rosamond is of a peculiar type, of the nervous temperament, I 
 should say. Strange things, those morbid fancies ; but we may 
 look for plenty of them, with an escaped convict roaming over the 
 country. Mrs. Hawker, when she heard of it, went off into hys- 
 terics ; she's a highly organised type of the nervous temperament, 
 too. Miss Sophy had better not sleep in the same room to-night, 
 for fear the patient should be disturbed ; every minute's sleep is 
 worth a pound of medicine. But she can be somewhere within 
 call : patients like these are liable to have bad dreams. Die, did 
 you ask, Miss Sophy ? Nonsense or perhaps when she's a great 
 grandmother of eighty years old. Only keep her quiet and let 
 her sleep : that's all. Her being woke up before her time is 
 just the one chance and there's always one of things going 
 wrong." 
 
 The counsel was wise, and it made Sophy happy again : for, 
 though her heart had not yet grown to be very large, it was all 
 Rosamond's. She even rose to the occasion, and took infinite pre- 
 cautions to ensure her sister's slumber from being disturbed by 
 the remotest of accidents. She shut every window in the house, 
 and stood sentry, without any shoes, on the landing outside the 
 bedroom door, so as to compel silence on all who went up or down. 
 At tea-time, she poured out the milk drop by drop, and would not 
 stir her sugar for fear the spoon should rattle. And her going to 
 bed among the creepy sensations belonging to the first experience 
 of a solitary room was as much a miracle of swiftness and
 
 7 a A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 silence as her sleep was of soundness so soon as the pillow 
 was touched by her golden hair. 
 
 It was dark when Rosamond woke : but she was not ignorant 
 of the hour, because the haM clock, which Sophy had unaccouuta- 
 ably forgotten to stop, struck eleven immediately afterwards. 
 " I have slept ! " thought she. " What can it mean ? And I am 
 not undressed yea, I was sent to bed : I remember now. Sophy, 
 are you there ? " she whispered ; but no answer came, nor, when 
 she Mstened, could she hear the faintest breathing. " They're very 
 late in coming to bed," thought she. She rose, groped her way to 
 the door, and looked out upon the landing. All was dark ; the 
 hall lamp was out, and the tick of the hall clock was the only sound. 
 
 She worked her way back to Sophy's bed, and found it empty. 
 It aH seemed very odd ; and of course Sophy ought to have slept 
 lightly enough, in the next room, to hear her moving. How- 
 ever, Rosamond could find a match, and lighted a candle, and 
 presently discovered that Sophy's room had been changed. " Am 
 I going to be ill P " thought she. " And yet I don't feel different 
 from usual. But perhaps I do feel different without knowing it ; 
 and surely people don't sleep all day and half through the night 
 when they're well. I wish Sophy was awake, but I can't wake 
 her ; she looks a great deal too happy. Oh, I hope I am not going 
 to fall ik and oh, if I am, there's my story : nobody must find 
 that ; nobody must ever see that now. I must get hold of that, 
 and tear it to bits, before I ever go into that horrible castle again." 
 
 After the part it had played in her terrible adventure, the 
 creature of her mere fancy had been blighted out of life and soul. 
 She would never be able, herself, to bear the sight of it again ; 
 and the vision of herself laid up helplessly ill, while her uncle, and 
 perhaps Oswald Hargrave, were exploring her bower and rifling 
 her past of its mysteries, was not to be borne. That must be 
 averted at any cost, even at that of another, one more, one last 
 visit to the castle, where she had formerly spent so many happy 
 and busily idle hours. She might find herself ill to-morrow, the 
 deed must be done now. Yet she shuddered as she thought of a 
 repetition of last night's journey. It was like courting fresh dis- 
 aster, and she fore-knew that, as she followed the passages to her 
 citadel, the echo of her feet would become visible phantoms. 
 Still they would be but empty phantoms, this time, after all; 
 the manuscript must be seized and forthwith destroyed, as if it 
 were some evil charm. She need not linger a moment in the
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 73 
 
 room, she need but snatch the papers from the table, lock the door 
 behind, fly back to bed and safety, and let herself fall ill, if so she 
 must, with a clear mind. Sophy might wake at any instant. The 
 deed must be done, and now. 
 
 She had expected so much from the terror that flieth by dark- 
 ness that the reality fell infinitely short of her fears. It was true 
 that the boards would creak, and that the failure of the ticking 
 clock to rouse the household was scarcely short of a miracle. But 
 for the rest, the powers of darkness did not molest her on the road. 
 For the last time for the very last time she entered that dreary 
 room, which the light of her one bedroom candle rendered more 
 dreary and dismal still. Her hand was on the papers, the deed 
 was well-nigh done. But at that moment another hand was laid 
 upon her shoulder. 
 
 " You are come at last ! " said He. 
 
 Let those picture the poor girl's misery who have the power. 
 It passes mine. 
 
 " I am half dead with hunger, half mad with waiting," said he. 
 " But never mind now. After all, you could have chosen no better 
 time. For heaven's sake, don't look so scared ; bring your wits 
 together. Don't you want to be rid of me for good and all? 
 Won't you understand that I've found the way to escape clean off 
 never to see you again, if you'll only be half as brave, for a short 
 ten minutes, as you were, God bless you, last night and this morn- 
 ing ? Come you must be ; you shall. Do you think I want to 
 stay here ? And do you want me to stay ? Listen be yourself. 
 Don't you understand that you are to rid yourself of me ; to help 
 me to go ? " 
 
 " I can do nothing more," said she, faintly. 
 
 " Y i s you can. And you have no time to loose. I know, better 
 than you, that any minute may bring somebody to this room. The 
 very stupidest of them all can't go on without looking in the right 
 place for ever. Their stupidity even theirs has reached its last 
 limit by now. There's a boat-house, isn't there, where you keep a 
 boat, with sculls ? " 
 
 " Yes," said she, without in the least wondering how he had 
 come to know. 
 
 " Is it locked or open ? " 
 
 " Not locked." His former mesmeric force over her was return- 
 ing rapidly.
 
 74 A HEAL QUEEX 
 
 " Then vou must let me out of the house, and show me (he 
 way. I'm sailor enough to pull a boat in a calm, and I shall know 
 where to make for. If I can get off at once, I shall have as many 
 dark hours as I need. Come." 
 
 " No ! " she managed to bring out, with what seemed to be the 
 last remnant of strength that was left in her. 
 
 " Then Miss Fane there is only one thing to be done. I can't 
 stay here and starve ; and I won't be taken back to Lowmoor for 
 nothing. Do you understand ? " 
 
 She did not understand ; at least not wholly. But she could 
 guess his drift, and began to be conscious that only her courage 
 stood between a desperate man and some desperate deed. Ills 
 voice and his manner, for all their quiet ease, and their unfailing 
 courtesy, were for that very reason more significant than threats 
 could have been. Whatever it might cost her, the man must go, 
 and in his own way. 
 
 " Are you ready now ? " asked he. " You have only to guide 
 me to the boat-house, and then to return as quietly as you please. 
 You can wake in the morning, certain of there not being a sign 
 left to show that I have been here for a single hour. When the 
 boat's missed, that will be nothing to you. You will never be 
 troubled by me again. I shall be either on the other side of the 
 world, and alive, or dead at the bottom of the sea. If you pause 
 one moment longer, you are a fool, and on your own head be 
 whatever comes of your folly." 
 
 "Anything to be sure he is gone for ever!" thought Rosa- 
 mond. And, somehow, she felt as if the convict read her thoughts 
 aa he followed her from the room. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Even thus he fares who, on the hill 
 
 Where toward the sunset wandered she, 
 Feels, at one stroke, hit heart turn chill 
 By path* her feet have blest, what ill 
 
 Should make nlm start to see ? 
 Only a glove, or ring, you'll gay. 
 
 That the bad lost the while she stood 
 To watch the war of gold and frrey 
 His ear hath caught from love's estray 
 
 A whisper as of Blood. 
 
 I ELL, Moldwarp," asked Uncle yEneas next morning 
 before breakfast, " what have you found ? You took 
 the boat out yesterday eh P " 
 
 w
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 75 
 
 "I did that, sir aye, and this morning again too. I'm on my 
 way up from the boat-house now." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I can't say I've found much to speak of not as yet. But " 
 
 " Then it seems," said Oswald, who had ridden over on chance 
 of hearing news, " that your instinct hasn't turned out so much 
 better than mine ? " 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Mr. Hargrave. I didn't say I'd found 
 nothing. Not much to speak of don't mean nothing at all. Only 
 so sure as you begin to ask questions of instinc', off she goes." 
 
 " Oswald," said Uncle ^Eneas, a little sharp, " don't bother the 
 man. He has ways of his own. You can't expect even Silver 
 Moldwarp to find everything in a day." 
 
 " All right," said Oswald. " Of course genius had nothing to do 
 with reason, as all the world knows. My belief is that the man 
 has got out of this country altogether in spite of everyone. Still, 
 every notion's good for something, and I won't own myself beat 
 till I've tried everything. My horse wants a rest, and I want to 
 change my limbs. I'll take a pull along shore myself, and see 
 what instinct will do for me." 
 
 " Well, what do you say to that, Moldwarp ? " asked Uncle 
 ^Eneas. 
 
 " Well, sir, nothing but what, if Mr. Hargrave likes the job, it's 
 all one to me." 
 
 " All right," said Oswald. " Then, Mr. Fane, if you'll let me, 
 I'll breakfast here." 
 
 " And you'd better get some breakfast yourself, Moldwarp," 
 said Uncle ^Eneas,thus taking occasion to save his 'prime minister' 
 from the cross examination that he seemed to see gathering in 
 Oswald's eyes. " You don't understand Moldwarp," he said, as the 
 latter, no less ready to take advantage of the occasion for escape, 
 left the library. " If that man, Derwent, is to be found, Mold- 
 warp will find him only he must do it in his own "way. You 
 may wager what you like he wouldn't have given up the boat to 
 you if he hadn't put himself on a track that he's going to follow 
 up ashore. That's Moldwarp all over ; he never understands any- 
 thing, and he never can explain anything, but he'll go for what- 
 ever's wanted as straight as a hound." 
 
 Oswald did not affect Silver Moldwarp, but he had no call to 
 interfere with any man's hobby, so he said nothing, but went for 
 a stroll in the garden till breakfast time. Of Rosamond's illness
 
 76 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 lie had heard nothing 1 , for he had spoken to nobody about the 
 place but Mr. Fane, who had slept off all anxiety on that score, 
 and scarcely cared to enter upon the topic of his niece with her 
 unreasonable lover without real occasion. 
 
 Meanwhile Mold warp carried his own reflections with him. 
 " Confound that Oswald Hargrave ! " thought he. " If they find 
 that murdering thief they'll find my jacket pocket, and if they 
 find my jacket pocket, I may live to Methuselah before I get hold 
 of such another green-handed pump as Squire Fane. J know what 
 Master Oswald thinks he don't believe I ever went out in that 
 boat at all, and he wants to spy. Ah, my lad, you may be one 
 too many for Silver Moldwarp, but Silver Moldwarp's a baker's 
 dozen too many for you! You expect to find a dry old tub fit for 
 firewood, so you may say, ' Holloa, this hasn't felt the touch of 
 salt water since 'twas last painted, whenever that may be ! '" 
 
 Moldwarp was, as has been said, exceedingly prone to talk half, 
 or even quite aloud to himself, for he was his only companion 
 during the daytime, and his own only friend and confidant always. 
 Thus soliloquy, which in most cases is but a convenient makeshift, 
 was in his case a reality. Only it was one of his many instincts 
 that he never thus suffered his tongue to take its needful exercise 
 at times or places where it could be overheard. 
 
 Of these places the boat-house was not one. Indeed, it was the 
 least frequented spot in all the ground belonging to the cottage, for 
 it was difficult to get at, and the boat itself was never used it 
 fulfilled the purpose of its existence by being there to be used some 
 time next summer that never came, and meanwhile by being one of 
 the orthodox properties of a house by the sea. Still, like a grand 
 piano, there was a household tradition that it was not an idler, and 
 that Moldwarp should have had it out was assumed to be quite in 
 the natural course of things. He was therefore no little taken 
 back when he found that, despite the confident assertions he had 
 made not a minute ago of his having not only used the boat but of 
 having left the boat in safety, that no boat was there. 
 
 " If I haven't let my confounded instinc'run me into a fix now ! ' 
 exclaimed he, in his half-thought, half-speech. " It looks uncom- 
 mon like as if some of the fishers had been making free with what 
 nobody was likely to miss from year's end to years end and I 
 can't go back from it now, that I had her out all yesterday, and all 
 this morning up to breakfast time. Things aren't looking quite so 
 pleasant all round that I can afford to be bothered with lies. I've
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 77 
 
 liad that confounded boat, that I must stick to my truth's my 
 character ; and as I said 'twas here ten minutes ago, why, here it 
 must have been. But then, what must have become of the brute 
 within ten minutes ago ? Devil take the tub, if this isn't a tougher 
 job than chipping out that Fenian Dyle ! And if there isn't that 
 Paul Pry of a Hargrave coming down ! " 
 
 But there again Silver Moldwarp's celebrated instinct had con- 
 trived to lead its owner wrong. It may be that the fear was 
 father to the thought, for it would certainly have been an awkward 
 business for Silver Moldwarp, while unprepared with a story that 
 would hold together, to have the boat-house found empty by 
 Oswald Hargrave. The right conclusion would be the only one 
 open that the boat had been absent, nobody could guess how long, 
 at the time when Silver Moldwarp had professed to be using her, 
 and that, for a man who made simplicity and straightforwardness 
 his principal stock in trade, would never do. Moreover, perhaps 
 because Oswald Hargrave somewhat mistrusted Silver Moldwarp, 
 Silver Moldwarp had an especial objection to being caught in a 
 common-place, bungling, utterly inartistic lie by Oswald Hargrave. 
 For the man was a real artist in his way, and was really ashamed 
 of a lie that lacked even a respectable amount of ingenuity. The 
 merest tyro, he felt, would, before saying he had been using the 
 boat, have made sure that the boat was there to be used. However, 
 there was not the immediate call upon his readiness of wit that he 
 feared. 
 
 Oswald, on reaching the steep cliff path that led to the cove, 
 turned aside, and lounged along the edge of the cliff itself, just 
 outside the low wall of the kitchen garden. This particular part 
 of the path, originally made for the coast-guard, was not without 
 a certain promise of possible danger for weak heads, and was 
 therefore the fuller of pleasure for strong ones. The young man, 
 to Silver Moldwarp's infinite relief, seated himself upon the wall, 
 and enjoyed the sheer down-look into the ebbing tide, and its 
 angry battle as it retreated from the steep shelves of the shingle. 
 The tide there rose high and fell low ; when high it covered the 
 narrow beach and met the cliffs, and was never, at its lowest, 
 other than deep water, leaving nothing in the way of flotsam and 
 jetsam behind. It need not be said that Rosamond, as always, 
 was deep down in the mind of the man whose fixed purpose was 
 to become her husband in due time and her lover for all time ; but 
 her mental presence was so constant and so deep that he bad
 
 ?g A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 plenty of mind to .pare for daily things, and the seizure of the 
 La A convict, if only for the reason that he had undertaken ^ 
 w^oxed in hismind also. Moldwarp is aconceited ass/thought 
 he He's bound to do something, but doesn't know what-and 
 v ,,; f ,ring about with a boat is the best way of wasting time till 
 everything's forgotten, and till Uncle ^Eneas gets into a hurry for 
 hinftobTat the flints again. However, if I take a boat too and 
 prove there's nothing to be found that way, I shall stop a false 
 scent-and that helps to find the true one. And it may bring the 
 fox out of his hole, wherever it is, if he's let think that the hunt s 
 i-illed off If he isn't starved out or tempted out by this time to- 
 morrow, I shall begin to think he's walked over this precipice in 
 the dark, and been washed out into the deep sea. By Jove, if 
 done that, he wouldn't have left even his body behind him. 
 wouldn't be a bad place even to dive over, for a man who knew 
 how to swim at high tide. It isn't like Furnace Point, where the 
 rocks wouldn't give him even so much chance as that of hemp- 
 
 drowned. What in the name of " 
 
 His eye had been suddenly caught by something which, though 
 it had nothing to do with Lawrence Derwent, seemed to require 
 looking into. It was not the way of straw hats at Crossmarsh, any 
 more than in more civilised quarters of the globe, to grow on 
 gorse bushes ready made. But that was what Oswald Hargrave, 
 craning the edge of the precipice, and speculating on the fate of 
 one who should slip or spring over, very distinctly saw. The bush 
 was not on the narrow path itself, but hung out a few inches 
 below the edge, an advanced guard, or sentinel, of vegetation ; and 
 held tightly among the thorns was a brown straw hat, with a nar- 
 row brim and blue ribbon a small hat, such as a girl might wear 
 for playing at sailors, and, though like thousands of others, perfectly 
 familiar to Oswald's eyes. It did not require a second glance to 
 recognise the hat which Rosamond had worn the day before yes- 
 terday in the garden, and a hundred times before. 
 
 There was no reason for suspecting mystery or evil in a very 
 natural trick of the wind. Rosamond had, no doubt, been walking 
 on the safe side of the wall, when some playfully-minded breeze 
 had teased her by blowing her hat out of the reach of her hands, 
 It was a fine opportunity for a lover with the least touch of the 
 knight about him. Oswald laid himself flat on the path, and 
 pushed himself forward, holding the stem of the bush with his left 
 hand, till, with almost half his body extended beyond the brink of
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 79 
 
 the precipice, his right fingers reached the straw brim. It was less 
 easy to draw himself back again, but he succeeded at last in standing 
 with the recovered hat in his smarting and bleeding fingers. But it 
 was Rosamond's very own hat, and well worth a good many 
 scratches. 
 
 " I must get Sophy to help me play her a trick about this," 
 thought he. " The witch mustn't think there's no magic in the 
 world but her own." 
 
 Clearly Oswald Hargrave was no despairing lover, who took his 
 repulse of yesterday for the loss of a pitched battle. And, for 
 that matter, it would be difficult for any man to feel very hopeless 
 on so bright and fair a morning. Pleased at having begun the day 
 by doing something for Rosamond, and something which was en- 
 nobled by the element of just possible peril, he touched with his 
 lips what had touched her hair, vaulted over the wall, and went 
 towards the house in search of Sophy. Before reaching the front 
 door he heard himself accosted from behind with a hearty 
 
 " Holloa, Hargrave you here ? You've come to ask after Miss 
 Rosamond, I suppose ? How is she to-day ? " 
 
 " What haven't you heard she isn't well ? But you've just 
 arrived, I suppose. This is my day out your way, so I've come 
 over early, before starting on my regular round." 
 
 " Miss Fane ill ? " asked Oswald, in surprise and dismay. 
 
 "Yes," said the Doctor, who knew nothing of the nature of 
 Oswald's interest in Rosamond, and therefore thought himself 
 free to talk openly : " I didn't like to frighten old Fane and Miss 
 Sophy when I was called in yesterday, but it's lucky if she's been 
 able to sleep off a threat of brain fever. The heat, I suppose, and 
 an intensely excited condition of nerves. She was asleep when 
 I saw her, but she had been delirious and one knows what that 
 means." 
 
 " Good God ! " exclaimed Oswald, " and I have heard nothing 
 not a word ! What 
 
 " Yes. She fancied, and told her uncle and her sister, that she 
 had been helping to hide that man from Lowmoor that he had 
 come out of a heap of straw in some room where she was at 
 night, and that she had been obliged to give him food and shelter, 
 and but here's Mr. Fane. Well, Mr. Fane, has she slept out 
 yet ? She hasn't been disturbed ? " 
 
 But Oswald broke in before Uncle ^Eneas, who, grown hungry, 
 had come out to gather his breakfast flock, could answer. " And
 
 So * SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 what makes you think that fever, Doctor?" asked he, a little 
 roughly. " Why should it not be true f " 
 
 "Because, my dear Hargrove," said the Doctor, "Fane here 
 will tell you that certain portions of her story could not possibly 
 be true. The end of the man was that he disappeared no, 
 vanished into air. It could not be true, because it was a halluci- 
 nation, a strange one, but nothing more. Perhaps Miss Sophy 
 will see if her sister is awake, Mr. Fane ? " 
 
 But before Uncle yEneas could find room for a word, and before 
 Oswald could realise that Rosamond either had lost her senses or 
 had gone through some terrible adventure incredible to archaeo- 
 logists and physicians, Sophy herself darted out of the house all 
 scared and breathless, as if the man from Lowmoor himself was at 
 her heels. She did not pause to notice Oswald or the Doctor, but 
 seized Uncle yEneas by the hand, and cried out, 
 
 "She ia Gone!" 
 
 "Rosamond? Miss Fane? Why what is thematter with her?" 
 
 There was no need to ask whom Sophy meant by She. But 
 " gone " could have only one meaning; nor was there one there, 
 save Dr. Hawker, who dared to give that meaning its name. 
 
 "Dead!" he exclaimed, most unprofessionally aghast, "I will 
 go at once to her room." 
 
 " She is not in her room," cried poor Sophy ; " she is not any- 
 where. I've hunted everywhere, high and low. She is gone, 
 and, oh ! her hat's gone too." 
 
 "Was this her the hat, Sophy?" aaked Oswald, in a strange, 
 hollow voice, and deadly pale. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Sophy with hope springing up in her eyes, 
 " where did you find her ? Where is she, after all ? " 
 
 It was no time to spare the hearts or respect the hopes of 
 others when it was he that had to deal the blow who himself felt 
 the stroke the most keenly. "Where I found this? on a furze 
 buoh, over the cliff," Oswald groaned, " and " 
 
 Dr. Hawker looked at Uncle ^neas, who had collapsed, all 
 bewildered. " If that has happened if she woke too soon if the 
 worst has happened to her brain " 
 
 "Speak out, man!" Uncle JEneas cried out, suddenly starting 
 from his stupor. "You believe that she has gone out in a fit 
 of fever-madness, and thrown herself from the cliff into the sea- 
 ls that what you believe ? "
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 81 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Fane, calm yourself be a man ! Perhaps " 
 
 " Moldwarp ahoy ! " sung out Uncle ^Eueas. " Get out the 
 boat and, Oswald " 
 
 But Oswald was already at the boathouse, and Sophy half way 
 after him. So long as something, anything, could be done, 
 though only to prove the worst to be the very worst, he would 
 not realise the terrible fate that the Doctor's words implied a 
 young girl sent mad by a summer sun, and self-slain in a fit of 
 delirious frenzy. But even while he hurried to the boat there 
 came before his mind the only too clear picture of the pitch-dark 
 midnight, the narrow path, the sheer cliff, the hungry tide, and the 
 frenzied girl. He bu*st open the boat-house door. " The boat at 
 onie ! " he cried to Moldwarp, who stood within, staring out to 
 sea. 
 
 " And that's the very thing I'm looking round the offing for," 
 said Moldwarp. " Only half an hour ago I made her fast by the 
 painter to that post and I suppose it broke with rottedness, for 
 anyhow 'tis broke and off, that blessed tub has gone all alone 
 with the ebb you may see her pitching out there this minute, if 
 you've got your eyes. 'Twas no fault of mine, sir maybe she'll 
 be picked up yet ; but anyhow we must stay ashore for to-day." 
 
 Silver Moldwarp spoke so straightly, and with such abstinence 
 from all superfluous details and flourishes, that Oswald, much 
 less Uncle ^Eneas, who had now overtaken the others, would not, 
 even under less all-absorbing conditions, have dreamed of doubting 
 him. To connect the absence of the boat with the absence of 
 Rosamond, or either with the convict, was a process which could 
 not possibly occur to any man's mind. Oswald could only feel 
 faint with despair Uncle yEneas was already grown older by ten 
 years. Dr. Hawker must be right. And then there was Sophy 
 
 " / have killed her ! " the poor child cried. " I fell asleep. 1 
 did not hear her go " 
 
 "No, Sophy!" said Oswald, coming to his senses. "For God's 
 sake don't get that into your mind it was not you " 
 
 Moldwarp, knowing nothing of what had happened, looked from 
 one to the other. So he did not perceive that Sophy, her ruling 
 passion intensified, or at least turned into instinct by despair, or 
 perhaps in the forlorn hope that any tjafle might give light, had 
 picked up from a dark corner a tatteaed old jacket from some hole 
 in which fell a chisel and a cheap note-book, bound in frayed 
 leather. "With miserably passive face she placed the book and 
 
 6
 
 8a A SEAL QUEEX. 
 
 chisel in Oswald's unnerved and passive fingers. But Moldwarp, 
 his attention called by the movement, caught sight of the gar- 
 ment, though not of the note-book, made a pounce at the former 
 as it lay on Sophy's arm, and recovered it somewhat rudely. 
 
 "Begging your pardon, miss but that's my old coat," said he. 
 
 Oswald, catching one last ray of Sophy's struggling hope, 
 glanced at the book, and then at the tool, first slightly, but then 
 more sharply. And then he looked straight at Moldwarp, and 
 openly held out chisel and book towards Uncle ./Eneas. 
 
 " I believe," said he, firmly enough out of his heavy and 
 desperate heart, " that she was not mad that her story was true. 
 I believe it, because I believe that the man who stands there, 
 being a liar by trade, has lied about the boat : that it was there 
 yesterday, and not there this morning. I believe Her story, 
 because it is hers, and because it contradicts his lie. For his lie 
 and her truth mean that the man out of Lowmoor is even now at 
 sea if this means Murder I will not give way, nor sit down 
 and mourn no, not for a single hour. If I never find Her, I will 
 never rest tiB I find Him." 
 
 None longer noticed Sophy, who had broken down into pas- 
 sionate and remorseful tears. To the Doctor hs words were those 
 of one whom desperate grief and horror had turned into a mad- 
 man. But little did Oswald to whom flints were but flints, reckon 
 on the effect of the chisel and note-book upon a collector's soul, 
 Uncle ^Eneas loved his niece dearly: I have said that the shock 
 of her horrible fate had aged him by ten years. But his nieces 
 had never, like the flints of Pix-Knoll, grasped the foundations of 
 his nature. He, also, saw in the note-book, among a score of like 
 things, the working notes of the Phoenician Dial, precisely as it 
 existed in his own mind; he also took note of the chisel then, 
 seeing the guilt-brazened face of the detected impostor who had 
 been trading on his heart's desire, he turned away, aged ten, nay 
 twenty years more. What, after all, was the death of a girl? 
 She had been spared this she was better off than he. 
 
 But Oswald, misreading him, placed his hand on the old man's 
 shoulder. * Love is over," said he, sternly. " But, since hell haa 
 proved stronger than heaven therefore vengeance remains."
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 83 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Use Fortune for a slave, she'll cheat your will : 
 Dare her as foe dares foe, she'll conquer still ; 
 Deny her force, and swift her force shall fall 
 Bat he who trusts her blindly, gaineth. all. 
 
 "jl/rlSS FANE," said Lawrence Derwent, tha convict, "I 
 VI must most humbly apologise. But necessity knows 
 
 no law." 
 
 So, in the gentlest of voices, he addressed the girl who was 
 alone Avith him, far out at sea. He had rowed hard, the night 
 had been dark, and the morning grey ; and even now, though the 
 hour of sunrise was long past, the nearer of the two steep shores 
 of the sea looked but a bank of clouds the farther was unseen. 
 .Rosamond for it was she could only imagine that she was her- 
 self one of those lost souls, whose doom, ever since she could 
 remember, had hung over her like an awe. Or rather, she could 
 only feel this imagination could not grasp the truth of a situa- 
 tion that defied the reach of dreams. Had she been but a year 
 older in heart, she must have been prostrate with physical fear. 
 But a soul suddenly whirled away out of life, as she seemed to 
 herself to be, and into the region of doom, has nothing left to fear 
 the worst has come. Only a few days ago alive, and happy, 
 and at unbroken peace, and never dreaming of change, but as of 
 something too infinitely dreadful to concern her and hers now, 
 alone with this man, who seemed something far else than man, 
 and on the sea, which stood to her for the border-land of all 
 outer mystery; it was enough to make her despair. It might 
 have been natural to cast about for the chances of human help 
 from human peril. But she had been driven to believe, in spite 
 of herself, that he who had borne her off belonged to a world 
 whose creatures are gifted, or cursed, with super-human powers 
 that he could read her thoughts, and command nature herself 
 to obey his will. Moreover, it might surely have been natural to 
 be overwhelmed with desperate wonder, if wonder, however 
 desperate, were not all too weak a word. But Rosamond had 
 long learned to regard the whole outer world, with Lowmoor in 
 it, from a point of belief that would not have regarded the adven- 
 tures of Sindbad himself as wonderful, had she been told that they 
 were true. For Rosamond's fancy, at any rate, was as bold and 
 uncDmpromising at fifteen years old as it had been at five. 
 
 6 A
 
 8 4 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 She had not yet learned to look upon the tanrise as not 
 surpassing all imaginable wonders, or upon the flights of the 
 wildcat dreams as approaching the wonder of the rising of the sun. 
 She had given one startled scream, when her companion had 
 lift.il her into the boat before pushing off from the shore, but she 
 had no hope that it could have been heard in the sleeping cottage, 
 through the roar of the sea ; or that, had it been heard through 
 sleep, it would have suggested anything but a sea-bird out fishing 
 at an untimely hour. Since then, she had only remained passive 
 and, indeed, the bravest could have done no more. It was not 
 that she felt herself at a desperate man's mercy. Derwent waa 
 no mere man to her. 
 
 " I must apologise most humbly," said he, again, resting on his 
 bv no means energetic oars, and wiping his brow. " I assure you 
 I had to conquer myself, and, after a hard battle, to put you to 
 all thia well, say trouble. And it pains me all the more for 
 you are a brave girl. Come, have you nothing to ask ? Nothing 
 to say P" 
 
 " What is to happen to me ? " 
 
 " On my life, I could not have believed in a girl who would not 
 have torn out at least one of my eyes. I assure you that I waa 
 prepared to pay one, as the lowest price I could expect to pay for 
 liberty. You have been my guardian angel all through. If 
 I knew how to find speech for such dumb things as thanks but 
 I can't do that. Nobody ever can. Only for this night's work 
 sake I am your slave, for ever and a day." 
 
 It was not the first time that something in his voice though 
 certainly not in his words, had made the girl almost hate herself 
 for feeling herself so much a slave, or rather, for not being able 
 to comprehend the confusion of fancy and faith, error and honour, 
 that had brought her here. If she could only be sure that, in 
 helping this creature, she had been following the clear light of 
 plain duty, and of her own free will, she might have dared the 
 unknown worst of her doom. It was too late for this assurance 
 now, for all freedom of will had passed out of her hands. But 
 her very helplessness inspired her to rebel. 
 
 " Then," said she, as if taking him at his word, " put me ashore 
 again, anywhere ; I will find my own way home, even from 
 Furnace Point." 
 
 " You ask me the one impossible thing. No, Miss Fane ; that 
 I cannot do. If I could have done that, I would not have
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 8 
 
 carried you off: I did not bring you out to sea 1o put you on 
 shore. Pray don't look at me like that. On my honour, Miss 
 Fane, I mean you no harm, no possible avoidable harm. There, 
 we can let the tide take care of us now. Ah, it's a comfort to 
 be able to drift again. Whether I'm to be henceforth gaol-bird 
 or free-bird, luck must decide it now. I've done my all ; the rest 
 is a matter of heads and tails. Just think of it, Miss Fane, 
 at this moment all the thousand chances that go to make an hour 
 of the world's life are being shaken over me, and will soon be 
 thrown. I can't even cog the dice, and yet something tells me 
 that I shall win the game. Since I won eight thousand in one 
 night, without a break in the luck, I never felt like this before. 
 It's true that I never before felt half so hungry, and, maybe, 
 hunger helps a man to feel hopeful." 
 
 Rosamond's had been but the poorest pretence of rebellion, 
 after all. His apparently meaningless words, spoken like the 
 commonplaces of a morning call, ceased to touch her ears. She 
 could only crouch in the stern, dead to the fresh breeze that 
 followed them, and blind to the sunlight that was now beginning to 
 make a golden path for the boat upon the waves. The glory of 
 yesterday was returning to the sky and the sea. But that same 
 glory of light revealed something more. At first she sat, with 
 her elbows on her knees, and her chin upon her hands, in a state 
 of absolute blindness, only wondering if God knew what He was 
 doing with her, and with Sophy, and with all at home. But, as 
 the breeze blew fresher, and as the waves began to dance to its 
 more lively tune, she saw the cliffs receding on either side, and, in 
 front, a line of white that she knew, by instinct, to be the edge 
 of the open sea. She felt herself turn pale and her heart sink. 
 She was drifting out of the last sight of the world to the threshold 
 of doom; nay, being danced thither to the music of sunlight 
 and wind. 
 
 " How soon will it be," she asked the wind, " before I die ? " 
 Despair was deepening into awe. 
 
 " No man on earth knows that," said Derwent, less lightly. 
 " What makes you think death an inch nearer here than in the 
 safest place on earth, which is a gaol ? Listen to me, Miss Fane, 
 and when you have listened, think of me as you please, but not 
 till then. Whatever has happened, we are in the same boat now 
 truely enough ; and, till we are out of it, for both our sakes we 
 must be comrades and friends ; are you listening ? "
 
 86 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 "I hear," said Rosamond, answering him with her lips, but not 
 with her eyes, which were alive only to the vanishing 1 shores 
 and the nearing line of foam. For she was as one who, in the 
 midst of life and strength, ia called upon to watch the parting 
 of the shores of life and the nearing of the ocean of death, and 
 yet U not allowed to leave behind a word of comfort or of f are- 
 well. She thought of Sophy, and of the uncle who had hitherto 
 seemed of such small account in her life, and of Oswald, her <>J 
 playfellow, from whom she had scarcely parted friends How 
 had she treasured 00 little the mere daisies that grew on I'ix- 
 KnollP She would never see them again and in their place 
 only the terrible smile of the sea. 
 
 " Think," said Derwent, torturing with his voice the last hours 
 in which she might make at least her thoughts her own j " think 
 of what is ten thousand times more horrible than the most 
 hideous of deaths the life of a man, young, strong, able, who 
 knows how to think, and how to live, condemre 1 to a prison cell 
 until he is old! No, you can't think of it; only such a man 
 himself can conceive what it means, nor then truly until 
 he has tried. I have tried it : and, if I could, I would not 
 dare tell you all it means. You needn't know half to answer 
 this is there any imaginable thing a human being would not do 
 to escape from hell ? Having escaped, is there anything he would 
 not do to remain free ? Have I escaped as some would say 
 by miracle to throw my last chance away for the sake of a 
 child of whom I know nothing, scarcely so much as her name ? 
 "When I said there is nothing I would not do for you if I could, 
 I was not thinking of impossible things. I would cut off my 
 right hand, Miss Fane, because I am grateful, but I could not go 
 back to Lowmoor, because, though I am grateful, I am a man." 
 
 ^ s,"said Rosamond, compelled to answer, " 1 can understand 
 how a man would do anything to be free. But " she dared to 
 look round once more, and in the matter of daring all things for 
 freedom, she was very far indeed from being gifted with a man's 
 soul ; he saw her shudder, as she added bitterly " what need had 
 you of me ? " 
 
 -My dear young Jady," said Derwent, "you are rashly 
 inquiring into the great mystery of creation. Why must the 
 weak always suffer for the strong ? Why, that some may live 
 must others die ? I presume you would welcome my return to 
 Lowmoor, in order that you might be at home again. If you
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 87 
 
 wish to know what need I had of you simply, I dared not leave 
 you behind. I have learned not to trust you, Miss Fane. Your 
 heart is as true as steel, and you have the honour of a man ; but 
 you have a woman's tongue you would betray me against your 
 will : you have done so already, ten to one. I tell you that I 
 would have killed you, without scruple, if that had been the only 
 way of silencing the only tongue that could tell the story of how 
 I left the land, and what there was between your boat and me. 
 The boat will be missed perhaps it has been missed now : and 
 your conscious silence would have put them on the track more 
 surely than your open speech would have done. Leaving you 
 on shore would have been the same as sending the bellman round. 
 There is an Oswald, I remember and, as I said before, what one 
 woman knows in the morning, at least one man knows in the 
 afternoon. No if I had strangled you I should have been less a 
 fool than if I had left you on shore alive. That was one reason 
 why ; another was that your loss would throw people off my trail > 
 they won't connect you with me, and your vanishing will put out 
 of people's minds the unprofitable search for one for whom nobody 
 cares but the law that's reason number two. Another was that, 
 if we fall in with the help I'm looking for, your presence will 
 account for a good many things that's reason number three, 
 lleason number four is well, because carrying you off is 
 coggiag the dice, and getting the whip-hand of fortune, after 
 all." 
 
 He paused, as if waiting for her to question him. But he had 
 to take her silence for questioning. 
 
 " Yes," he went on, " it's all matter of chance with me. But 
 it's different with you. I take you with me in the capacity of 
 guardian angel, Miss Fane. With you on board, this boat, cockle 
 shell as it is, will come to no harm ; and though we may reach 
 starvation point, we shall not starve. I mean what I say though 
 it may sound as superstitious as faith always sounds to fools. 
 Till he or she has lived his or her life out, nobody dies : else 
 the universe would be a sheer bungle from beginning to 
 end. I may have lived my own life out, for aught I know. But 
 yours has not begun. You have the health of a mountain 
 nymph ; you are brave : you are wise, in your own way : you are 
 of the stuff of which nature makes heroes your time is not 
 come. As to myself, it may be that your life's work is to save 
 mine ; for it may be my life that has got to be lived out, after all.
 
 88 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 But, if not, so long as you are in this boat, the boat dares rot 
 *ink, and therefore I cannot drown ; you will not starve, which 
 nieans that help will come to me in coming to you. If Heaven 
 lets you suffer for my deeds, then Heaven is ruled by fiends. 
 And, as Heaven can't protect you without protecting ine, or 
 drown me without drowning you you have reason number four: 
 maybe the best and wisest of them all. Have you heard of the 
 pword, the edge of which is the bridge to Mahomet's Paradise ? 
 The saints pass it the sinners fall into the flames. This is the 
 bridge to life and freedom. You must pass it I cling to your 
 skirts so tightly that you also must perish if I fall. Since you 
 cannot be lost for my sake, I must be saved for yours." 
 
 The picture called up by his words was certainly not likely to 
 lessen any of the fear that awe had left her. Nor was his cata- 
 logue of reasons, for all its frankness, of a nature to reassure any 
 creature that found itself to be helplessly in this man's hands, and 
 held to be of use in them. A very real earnestness had been in- 
 creasingly revealing itself through his habitual, perhaps partly 
 affected, lightness and indifference of tone ; whether his professed 
 belief in her protection, as if innocence were magic, was honest or 
 no, his other reasons for complicating his escape with the apparent 
 encumbrance of a girl were sound enough, and argued deliberately 
 nn unscrupulous heart no less than a singularly ready brain. No 
 doubt he had found plenty of time to lay out his plans in detail 
 while imprisoned in what had once been Rosamond's castle ; but 
 actual details seldom shape themselves so exactly in accordance 
 with the best laid plans. Rosamond felt herself falling more and 
 more helplessly into his grasp at every word. After all, the 
 -rpent, despite his fame, is a frank and honest creature, and the 
 bird who comes to him has not, like the antelope or the lion, to 
 complain of ambush and treachery. 
 
 "Oh," cried Rosamond's heart to her, "if Oswald could see me 
 now !" The cry found no voice, but her companion's next words 
 came as if in answer 
 
 " And if you want a last reason, it is," said he, " that I, know- 
 ing what you are now, and what you will be, need you as no 
 other man needs you, or will ever know how. I am staking more 
 on this than liberty. Well : we shall know the end soon, now." 
 
 Truly it seemed to Rosamond that they would indeed very soon 
 know the end. "What was his plan of saving himself in mid sea, 
 and how far at her cost, were matters far too practical for her to
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 89 
 
 gather. He was apparently drifting, and leaving everything to 
 the caprice of the waves, which still, whether by the effect of a 
 constant current, or of a still ebbing tide, carried the boat, though 
 very slowly, still perceptibly farther from the lands. Small crafts 
 were occasionally in sight, but Derwent appeared neither to seek 
 nor to avoid them. For themselves, they were as unnoticeable as 
 if they had been Moldwarp and Oswald the hunters instead of 
 the hunted. And with the passing of each sail, another hold upon 
 life appeared to pass away; in truth, Rosamond hardly knew 
 whether she was dead or alive. 
 
 "Want of sleep and food were also telling, not the less because it 
 was not thought of at least by her, any more than was the 
 passage of time, during which, since her companion's last words, 
 silence remained unbroken. 
 
 " You had better pull your skirt over your head/' said he at last, 
 " the sun is getting strong ; though I can't be sorry you lost your 
 hat that was a lucky chance on the whole, and promises well for 
 the end. But it won't be lucky if you get a sunstroke " 
 
 " What does that matter ? " asked she, faintly. 
 
 "Everything to me; so do as you are told. And I think we 
 may eat a mouthful, now, without being wasteful. Here is the 
 loaf that we stole. After all, you have a right to your own 
 bread, any way : and I will take my share as a gift, as I did before. 
 Help may be long in coming, and we must eke out our supplies 
 but all the same, it's time to break into them now. I wish there 
 had been more time to lay in supplies. Break the loaf yourself, if 
 you please you have the cleaner hands." 
 
 Rosamond ate, forced by the now conscious hunger that pro- 
 claimed her spirit to be not even as yet wholly subdued. Then, to 
 escape from further speech, she turned away her face, affecting to 
 sleep, and indeed hoping that she might sleep, so that, if the ap- 
 proaching ocean was to devour her, she might perish before wak- 
 ing. She prayed silently as she best could, but scarcely with full 
 faith for she had to pray for miracles. Derwent's faith, in what- 
 ever it lay, must have been ten thousand times stronger than hers. 
 He ate his bread slowly, as if to get all possible good out of its last 
 crumb, and then giving himself up to complete inaction, sat 
 stolidly with folded arms, as if he were a good Mussulman 
 with the most supreme trust in destiny. Whatever he might be, 
 even Rosamond could not but feel that there was something in his 
 power of patience that, in a good sense, was more than human. She
 
 90 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 had found him capable of calculating and combining every chance, 
 and at the same time of daring all things when there was anything 
 to dare and now she found him no less capable of the hardest 
 thing of all : of doing nothing when there was nothing to be done. 
 If she could only read one fragment of his mind as she believed 
 him able to read, through and through, the whole of hers ! Mean- 
 while she could only credit him with some plan of action of which 
 this absolute inaction was but apart, instead of its being the whole 
 of his plan, and in truth the blind waiting upon fortune which it 
 appeared to be. He had calculated the least impossible out of a 
 thousand chances without one that was, not desperate among them 
 and that was all. It must have been true that he had faith and 
 he had said that it was in Her. 
 
 She no longer watched the vanishing of the shore, or the nearing 
 of the sea. Her heart had grown too faint and too dull for that 
 as well as her eyes. But at last the darkening of that long after- 
 noon warned her that the night was at hand the terror of dark- 
 IMS: the only new terror that remained. Death, if it were 
 coming, had not even the mercy to come quickly. For the first 
 time she buried her face in her hands, and moaned. 
 
 " Sit still and steady, Miss Fane, for life's sake ! " cried Derwent, 
 " I kuew it there was the one chance, your chance, and it has 
 come. Only don't speak and for heaven's sake, don't stir ! " 
 
 Had Rosamond forthwith beheld an open miracle, she would 
 have thought it nothing strange. Indeed, the more it was of a 
 miracle, the less strange it would have been. However, there was 
 nothing strange to see only her companion in peril hastily strip- 
 ping from his body Silver Moldwarp's ragged shirt and tying it 
 flagwise to the end of an oar. It was a signal that there was still 
 light enough to be seen over a good breadth of water: but to what, 
 and to whom? Were they the hunters, with Oswald at their 
 head, and had the hunted man given in ? Alas ! his ^oice was far 
 too full of hope, or rather of hope changed into joy. She dared 
 not look round, to see what he had seen. Her heat beat violently 
 with the dread thet her flash of hope would die out all too 
 soon. 
 
 Nothing happened. Was nothing ever to happen was it her 
 doom to drift in this wise through an eternity of nights and days ? 
 It was not as if she could call to mind a single sin that deserved 
 the name. She tried to lift her eyes now, but failed she WPS too 
 weak even to see, and even the extemporised signal of dist.-ss ;
 
 A SEAL QUEEX. 91 
 
 though but just over her head, was only visible through the mist 
 that makes eyes blind. Even her perfect strength, worn out as 
 she was both in body and mind, could no longer bear the strain, 
 and the merest flash of hope was only enough, not to renew it, but 
 to make it give way. She felt rather than saw, that Derwent's 
 eyes were upon her, as if bidding her to become deaf and blind. 
 Presently she saw nothing, not even the fiag, and the last thing 
 she heard was a dull rhythm as of phantom oars ; then followed a 
 rush of waters, as she threw up her arms, and felt herself sinking 
 into the depth of the sea. Yet even to the utmost depth the over- 
 Mastering gaze of the demon who had usurped the rule of her life 
 followed her. " Sophy ! " she cried, faintly ; " Oswald ! " she tried 
 to cry out, more faintly still. It was her last thought, that Oswald 
 could not hear. 
 
 Faint, however, as the cry was, it had been heard. And he 
 who heard it smiled with a sort of triumph for he knew that 
 they were no phantoms who pulled the approaching oars. 
 
 " Anyhow exit Oswald ! " said he. " I have seen a new thing 
 under the sun : a girl who faults at the right time." 
 
 CHAPTEK XI. 
 
 And if the Queen herself would giro 
 
 Her crown to buy from me 
 My homely weeds, and bid me live 
 
 As royally as she 
 Yet if she won, full well I ween, 
 
 The things I lost thereby, 
 She still would be the crowned Queen, 
 
 The beggar still were I. 
 
 IT will have been gathered that the escape from Lowmoor of 
 the man called Lawrence Derwent had not been wholly due 
 to any extraordinary amount of what is commonly considered 
 skill. He had been marvellously favoured by fortune ; but then 
 on the other hand he had earned her favours by trusting her 
 boldly. Every chance had been against him from first to last, and 
 yet he had won every throw. No doubt he had shown wisdom in 
 his first choice of a hiding place that is to say, the very house 
 where he was the least likely to be looked for : but then the houses 
 are few which contain a room where a man may lie hid for whole 
 days together, and a daughter of the house upon whom he might 
 rely as upon Rosamond. And even with her he would not have 
 been safe had it not been for a combination of chances that the
 
 9 2 A REAL QUEEX. 
 
 bent skilled of players could not have prepared. Uncle /Eneas, 
 Sophy, Oswald Hargrave, Silver Moldwarp, nay, even such indi- 
 rect agents of fortune [as Mr. Pitcairn and the Doctor, had joined ' 
 together to aid him, and, as if all this had not been enough, his 
 reliance upon the guardianship of Rosamond's presence had been 
 justified. 
 
 Even, aa he had said, Rosamond's fit of weakness had been 
 marvellously well timed. When she came to herself, with what 
 seemed to her an agonising death-struggle out of death, she for an 
 instant bad lost memory, and believed herself to be on land. 
 But she soon realised that her terrible adventure had only entered 
 upon a new and even more inexplicable phase. She was no 
 longer in the boat indeed, but its light dance had been exchanged 
 for a steady swiftness, soon to be accounted for by the swelling of 
 canvas and the lapping of divided waves. She lay upon the deck 
 of a schooner, near the wheel, and, while she opened her eyes, 
 she heard a sharp order roughly shouted in a shrill foreign tongue. 
 What had happened now P Only yesterday she had been at home, 
 and more safely and surely there, anyone would think, than a 
 prisoner in Lowmoor. This evening she was out at sea, among 
 dark-skinned and bearded sailors, dressed in outlandish colours, 
 and, to her eyes, like a crew of savages. She could never have 
 dreamed it possible that she would live to look round for Derwent 
 for some assurance of safety. Yet the face of one's worst enemy 
 may be the most welcome sight and so it was then to her. At 
 any rate, it was known. 
 
 At that moment he, bare-headed, was talking fluently in that 
 same foreign tongue with one who was presumably in authority. 
 The latter was a heavily-built man, with a sallow skin, a bristling 
 black beard over half his face, quick black eyes, and bushy hair 
 dressed in a blue cloth shirt open at the throat, and with a large 
 knife hanging from his leather belt by a cord. Of their talk sh 
 could not of course comprehend a single word : she only noticed 
 that while the sailor frequently shrugged his shoulders and 
 scowled, Derwent maintained his fluent ease, and was as elabo- 
 rately courteous as when he had first entered her castle from the 
 heap of straw. Unscrupulous scoundrel Derwent might be ; but, 
 even in his beggar's rags, with his cropped hair, and with the 
 rough stubble with which three days had covered lip, cheeks, and 
 chin, he could not lose the air of a gentleman or at least of 
 having been so, once upon a time.
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 93 
 
 He was beside her so soon as her eyes opened, and in a moment 
 ehe became the centre of a group whose curiosity appeared but 
 little restrained by discipline. She tried to rise, but fell back 
 feebly. Derwent spoke a few words to the skipper, if such he 
 were, and then and though not without more confusion than 
 would have sufficed to clear a frigate's deck for action the space 
 round her was left free, and a half negro, more than half naked, 
 and grinning like an ape, lurched up with a tin pan of something 
 steaming in his hand. 
 
 " I told you," said Derwent, more solemnly than she had thought 
 him able to speak, " I told you that I was safe with you, and that 
 you were safe everywhere. The last chance the chance 1 played 
 for but hardly dared hope for has come. I am a free man, thanks 
 to you free as air. You must take a little of this ; whatever it's 
 made of it's food, and you are half starved." 
 
 " Where am I now ? " She could hardly hear her own whisper ; 
 but he heard. 
 
 " Don't talk eat. You see where you are. Don't fear these 
 fellows ; I daresay they look rough enough to you, but you won't 
 be with them long. I've settled everything." 
 
 " I only want to know one thing," said Rosamond, h^r eyes 
 searching in vain i'or the land. " I only want to know if I am 
 ever to see Sophy, ever to be home again?" 
 
 " Hark ! " said Derwent, as if he had not heard her question, 
 ' if I haven't forgotten all my sea-craft, we're in for a breeze, 
 and as good a one as I could choose with the whole compass 
 before me. You must learn to wait Miss Fane. Judge what the 
 need of freedom means to me, when, for its sake, I must make 
 you second to it, with all my gratitude, and though knowing all 
 you feel. You must submit to be lost for a little while. Hearts 
 of sisters and uncles don't break, and they'll hear you're safe quite 
 soon enough : you shall write at once from wherever we land." 
 
 She could not help starting to her feet, her faintness had gone. 
 " From wherever we land ? From where ? " 
 
 " Have patience ! By such luck as I never dared dream, we 
 are on a foreign schooner, outward bound. Who we are, except 
 that we are sea-waifs, worn out and starving, they neither know 
 nor care. I shall work our passage, and they won't find they've 
 made a bad bargain. We are on board the Mercedes, of St. 
 Sebastian, from Blaiseborough to " 
 
 "Where?"
 
 94 A SEAL QUEEX. 
 
 " Well, Miss Fane with some sort of cargo to the South 
 'Seas. Spain has possessions, you know, in that part of the world : 
 perhaps the Philippines, but I don't exactly know yet, nor why 
 she should have taken Blaiseborough in her course. However, so 
 far as I can judge she's a sound craft, not overloaded, and the 
 Basques are good sailors, and not a bad lot take them all round." 
 
 "To the South Seas!" 
 
 " So I hear. I'm afraid you'll have to rough it a little, perhaps 
 a good deal ; and for some reasons of course it's unlucky that 
 you're the only woman on board. But I read you very wrongly if 
 you're not born to be a sailor, Miss Fane. It will be something 
 to have made a voyage to the Philippines in a Spanish trader." 
 I "As if I cared for that!" she cried, clasping her hands. 
 " Sophy, they will all think me dead, and I shall be at the other 
 side of the world ; God knows where. . . . God forgive you f 
 whatever you are. I shall not die, I suppose, and some day I shall 
 be at home again ; though Heaven knows when. No ; I am not 
 afraid of the sea, nor of these men, among whom you have brought 
 me. What could happen to me more than this ? I am not afraid, 
 not even of you ! " 
 
 " Nor need you," said he humbly. " And of nothing else, so 
 long as I am here." 
 
 In one important respect, at any rate, the man whose name 
 Rosamond knew not even yet proved to be right. Indescribably 
 rough as were the quarters into which a delicately reared English 
 girl had fallen, she was made to feel herself treated with kind- 
 ness, at any rate with goodwill. Nor was this entirely a matter 
 of course, as some who have been thrown by the sea upon the 
 charity of such crews as that of the Mercedes can tell. It need 
 not be said that nothing short of the profound sleep of exhaustion 
 into which she fell before midnight could abate Rosamond's 
 terrible distress of mind ; indeed, to attempt to picture it, save 
 by unwritten thought, must be in vain. It was too great to rriss 
 any comfort, and yet not too great to notice that what could be 
 done for her comfort, where her mere presence was an encum- 
 brance, had been done. The Mercedes had certainly not been 
 built to carry passengers ; she was by no means over clean, and 
 the sailors themselves were sacrificed so far as possible to the 
 merchandise, so that they had but scant opportunity of making 
 further sacrifice for others. Yet, in some manner, room was
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 95 
 
 found or made. Too ignorant to fear what other women would 
 have feared, too familiar with phantoms and wonders to fear 
 them longer, too helpless and hopeless for the active thoughts 
 that banish sleep, she did sleep in some corner that had been 
 cleared for her below deck, and did not even dream. 
 
 Only a few days ago, she had been as safe as any English girl 
 may feel herself to be in the heart of home. There was no girl in 
 England so little likely to find herself plunged into the midst of 
 such an adventure as this was like to prove ; but yesterday left 
 safe on her own bed, now sailii{g. before the wind for the South 
 Seas ; believed dead, and vanished alive. And all this, because a 
 convict had broken gaol ; as though Lowmoor and the cottage at 
 Crossmarsh were, in anything but distance, nearer to one another 
 than the poles ; or, absolutely nearer than wealth and the poverty 
 that starves next door. Accident had, indeed, made her utterly de- 
 pendent upon Derwent, even in the matter of language ; she had 
 no way of knowing so much as the story he had manufactured to 
 account for the presence of a young man and young woman in an 
 open boat out at sea. In the concoction of such a story he was 
 the last man in the world who was likely to be found at a loss ; 
 and, indeed, for that matter, there were a hundred equally 
 plausible and open to him. It will happen, now and then, that 
 those who have set out for pleasure have lost their oars, or other- 
 wise broken down, and found themselves unable to make for home 
 again. Or, again, the story of a love-flight, well told, commends 
 itself at once to Southern ears, especially if the heroine be suffi- 
 ciently young and fair. Or, even the bold confession of a desperate 
 crime, and a flight for life, may, to such a crew as that of the 
 Mercedes seemed, enlist the deepest sympathies of all. How things 
 might have gone, with the pilot from Blaiseborough still on board, 
 is not so easy to say ; but even in this matter, the chance of which 
 had, happily for his complete confidence in Rosamond's star, failed 
 to occur to him, Derwent had been befriended by fortune. A man 
 so amazingly befriended had the right to trust his own star for 
 evermore ; and, if he had failed to find a fitting story, must have 
 proved himself no better than a fool. But, beyond this, he could 
 prove his ability to be that prize of prizes, a man who will do two 
 men's work for the pay of none. Nor was Rosamond herself one 
 of those waifs who are supposed to bring a ship the ill luck of the 
 prophet Jonah, unless, indeed, the fine weather should chance to 
 fall foul.
 
 96 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 But all these things were beyond her knowing or guessing. She 
 could only return upon deck when she awoke, at last, to fold her 
 hands, and look blankly round the unbroken horizon of the open 
 sea. One of the crew, passing her about his work, said something 
 to her in his unknown tongue, and, with a friendly smile that might 
 pass for a good morning, in the place of the general scowl that 
 seemed to be part and parcel of the cargo of the Mercedes ; but 
 the smile was as useless as the words. Every sailor on board 
 might be her zealous friend, if he could know her story ; but her 
 story was not one that could be told by signs. She did not see 
 Derwent. It was a relief; and yet the absence of her enemy made 
 her feel yet more without a friend. 
 
 That day, and for the next, and for the next, until the days grew 
 past counting, the fine weather and the favouring breeze held on. 
 It was a golden year ; and the year's monotony of colour was re- 
 flected by the life of Rosamond on board her prison. The most 
 passionate lover of the sea would have found the voyage dull, and 
 Itosamond was assuredly in no mood to give her interest in the 
 thousand daily things that should have fed her fancy with fresh 
 interest all day long. Yet it was impossible that any human 
 mind could pass through such a period of suspense and solitude 
 without either losing its balance, and going mad, once for all, or 
 else adapting itself in some measure, to the most maddening con- 
 dition ; so it was well for Rosamond that she was young. After 
 all, everyday, though it carried her farther away from Crossmarsh, 
 in point of distance, carried her nearer in point of time. At any 
 rate, in a strange country, she would be able to throw off the 
 tyranny from which she could not escape, while at sea, without 
 wings ; and meanwhile, until the need for action came, she was 
 safe from having to put herself face to face with the question of 
 how she should return. 
 
 Were it seen through the eyes of the Spanish skipper, or, 
 perhaps, through those of Lawrence Derwent, the voyage of the 
 Mercedes would, no doubt, be a history itself, and not a page 
 well-nigh as blank as was the sea itself, for the greater part of the 
 lime. But few, or rather none, would care to read the journal of 
 a voyage in a slaver kept by a slave, at least beyond the first page. 
 By the time that custom had dulled her first despair, it had also 
 dulled her senses to the mere discomforts of such a voyage ; and, it 
 wa$ surely something, even though it seemed shameful to regard 
 buch lesser evils, that she had been carried off without a change of
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 97 
 
 clothes, that all the conditions of her life were not only hard and 
 rough but repulsive, and that even such kindness as she received 
 was rough and outlandish to the last extreme. She had to accustom 
 herself to strange food strangely prepared and uncleanly served, and 
 to strange sounds that she could not understand. Her whole com- 
 munication with some fragment of the outer world as the Mercedes 
 contained was only obtained through the man who had brought 
 her here, and who might tell her just as much or as little as he 
 pleased. Seen through Rosamond's eyes, a sailing voyage half 
 round the world was a blank, or rather such a voyage as some of us 
 have made in a dream between two dreams. Climate followed 
 climate ; sail after sail came into sight and disappeared, latitude 
 after latitude was passed, but the days remained the same, as un- 
 distinguishable as shroud from shroud by a landswoman's eyes. 
 And yet there were times when the uncertainty of strange shores 
 made her almost dread to think of the day when the Mercedes 
 would at last cast anchor, and when, without even an enemy's aid 
 she would have to find her way back home alone; and how that 
 was to be done was a prospect as blank as the sea. 
 
 One day in what month or even in what season of the year she 
 knew not, for she had lost count of time at the outset, and left it to 
 Derwent to guess at the questions that she never put to him 
 Derwent being idle for the moment, or in a mood for talk, came to 
 where she was standing, and leant beside her over the low stern. 
 Though, during so dull a fair-weather voyage, his idle hours must 
 have been many, he had not often made use of them in this way, 
 but on the whole, except when there was occasion, had shown his 
 gratitude by avoiding her ; sometimes two days would pass to- 
 gether without his making an opportunity for speaking to her. 
 
 " "We ought to be near an end of our voyage by now," said he, 
 " if this wonderful wind but half holds. Do you know why it is 
 that they have treated you as nearly like a princess as this vile 
 old hulk will allow ? It's because you've brought them a passage 
 the like of which the best and fastest craft doesn't make once in a 
 lifetime. That's their notion that you're a sort of sea-angel that 
 the Mercedes had the luck to find ; and upon my soul I believe it's 
 true. You are a mystery to them, but the wind vouches for you. 
 If you had picked up any of their language, you would have heard 
 the wildest things said of you and yet none so very wild. 
 There's a Basque fellow here who's going to give a silver heart to 
 Saint Eosamunda. I tell him there's none in the calendar, but he 
 
 7
 
 98 A SEAL QUEES. 
 
 saya he knows better ; and, after all, what should a heretic like me 
 know of such things ?" 
 
 This was speaking in yet a new vein. With nothing to answer, 
 she turned her face to a distant cloud, the only dark spot visible 
 on earth or in heaven, as being the thing that was farthest away 
 from him, and perhaps the thing that was nearest to home of all 
 that she could see. 
 
 " Miss Fane," said he, more gravely, "there is at least one thing 
 I must talk to you about before this voyage ends. You do not 
 know all you have done in saving me from that English gaol. If 
 you did know, you would think all that you have gone through a 
 cheap price to have paid or at any rate well worth the paying. 
 I have been obliged to make you pay it against your will to rob 
 you of it, as it were ; but you would be glad, if I know you, and 
 if you knew all. The work is done. We shall soon be at anchor 
 now, and I shall be beyond the reach of friend or foe. The man 
 that I have been will have died so utterly that I will not even 
 tell you his name. I shall be a new man with a new name. Miss 
 Fane, hate the dead man as much as you will since you cannot 
 know all ; but, for God's sake, don't hate the new." 
 
 There was such real earnestness in his speech that, for the first 
 time she could not help feeling that what the man was now saying 
 was simple and true. 
 
 " I have not blamed you for doing the best you could for your- 
 self," said she. " As you said to me, long ago, what were I or 
 mine to you ? And what should they be ? " 
 
 " They should be everything and they are. But I am not free 
 till we are ashore. It will be my duty to guard you then ; not 
 against my will, as you have saved me, but with all my heart and 
 
 BOOl." 
 
 " You will send me home P " 
 
 "I am coming to that matter, Miss Fane. What are they 
 thinking at Crossmarsh ? That you are dead, drowned, or lost 
 over the cliffs. They will have given up the search by now and 
 time has turned you into a memory. I tell you there is no power 
 on earth that can henceforth, by searching, find me or you. You 
 are dead, and so am I. You have a sister, I believe ? " 
 
 " And you have broken her heart." 
 
 "Indeed, I have done nothing of the kind. Why, she can't 
 have grown a heart at her age ; and if she has, it will mend. Miss 
 Fane, it is your duty not to throw away on a country parish a life
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 9? 
 
 such as yours was made to be. Recognise the road that has opened, 
 for you through me the road that will lead you to those high 
 places for which you are made. I have watched you from hour to 
 hour every day, and have learned to know you through and through. 
 You believe yourself to be in the apathy of despair. You are 
 nothing of the kind. You will find yourself a woman by the time 
 you land ; you have not once lost courage, nor broken down under 
 what would have killed nine girls out of ten but what am I say- 
 ing ? It all comes to this I have escaped from gaol, and you from 
 a home that was worse than a gaol for such as you. You no more 
 dare go back again than I. You are free. You dare not throw 
 your freedom away." 
 
 " I do not understand not one word ! " said Rosamond, startled 
 at last, by his growing earnestness, into listening as she had never 
 listened before. " As if T am not breaking my own heart over 
 Sophy as if it were not like dying every minute till I see them 
 all again ! " 
 
 " So you think now. But how will you think when you have 
 grown old in some Crossmarsh or other, and think how you once 
 had the chance given you of living your life, with which Heaven 
 trusted you, and how you let it go ? Chances like this are inspira- 
 tions ; they are commands, and they never come again. Every 
 creature has its one grand chance, and this is yours. Do you sup- 
 pose it is for nothing that this has come to you, before you have 
 lost a year ? I will tell you my whole story, and when you know 
 that you shall decide whether you and I together are not made to 
 do with the world what we will." 
 
 Her spirit, so long deadened into an unnatural sleep, was touched 
 into waking life, and there flashed across her mind an old engrav- 
 ing she had once seen of the Temptation on the Pinnacle of the 
 Temple. Who was this man who could make himself invisible at 
 will, and was now, in so many plain words, offering her the king- 
 doms of the earth and the glory of them in exchange for her 
 home ? 
 
 Again she looked towards the black spot of cloud in the distance, 
 but not in such a manner as to see that while she had been listen- 
 ing it had grown till nearly half the sky was clouded astern. 
 
 " I cannot I ivill not understand ! " she exclaimed, again. " If 
 I were a queen like what these men think I am I would sooner 
 never reach the shore alive, than understand one word." 
 
 " You mean you would call up a storm P As if anything you 
 
 7 A "
 
 ioo A REAL QUEEX. 
 
 could do would change what is to be ! You were glued to Cross- 
 niareh like a limpet to a rock and here you are in the Pacific . 
 and the same power which has forced you so far will force you tx 
 the end, you may be sure. If you are to be a queen, a queen you 
 will be. Miss Fane you cannot go home ! " 
 
 " Cannot ! " she said, aghast for what, after all, had her will 
 yet been able to prove against this man's power ? " Do you moan 
 that I shall die ? " For surely no power less strong than death 
 had the right to deny her all that life meant to her, or could ever 
 mean. 
 
 " I mean But, good God ! what is this ? " he cried, suddenly 
 
 starting from her and looking round in dismay. For suddenly 
 as if she who had appealed to the elements to aid her had been 
 taken at her word, the darkness of the sky had overtaken them 
 and the fresh breeze was lost in a thunder of wind. " Below at 
 once with you, Rosamond Miss Fane ! " cried Derwent, raising 
 her as best he could, for both had been thrown over, and had rolled 
 half across the deck, as the Mercedes was sent well-nigh flat upon 
 the waves with the blow of the wind. 
 
 Counting over a thousand chances, so as not to miss the least of 
 them, he had yet forgotten to include in his reckoning a tropical 
 storm. There was nothing that thousands have not encountered 
 in the sudden fury that suddenly, one may say in a moment, mad- 
 dened the whole air without warning or seeming cause. It is true 
 that while Derwent had been endeavouring to whisper the teach- 
 ings of the serpent into Rosamond's ears, the Spanish skipper's 
 eyes had been less idle, and that some good minutes before the 
 outbreak had sufficed to take in every inch of sail. But, for the 
 rest, the Mercedes was at the mercy of the hurricane, as it lashed 
 and tore the sea into a madness to rival its own. The wind itself 
 seemed black, and to be the cause of the heavy darkness that thick- 
 ened around. It was no British crew ; and shouts, oaths, and yells 
 battled with the wind prayers, also, which some of the sailors of 
 the Mercedes seemed to hold more efficacious than praying with 
 the strength of their hands. It is true that to keep his legs was 
 as much as the most active could do ; and Derwent did not repeat 
 his perfectly impracticable order to Rosamond to take refuge below. 
 The world had become a chaos of darkness and wind. 
 
 A sailor could doubtless give a better account. To Rosamond, 
 it was chaos indeed but yet, with this supreme peril, her fears, 
 her constant companions, were swept away as if they had never
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 101 
 
 been born. The sight of the hand of God cast out all the fear or 
 man. She could pray now, faithfully and without shame ; for she 
 seemed to see and feel the presence to which she prayed. u Sophy 
 thinks me dead let her think true ! " thought she. 
 
 Suddenly, in the midst of it all, she heard a crash as if the ship 
 were breaking ; then the Mercedes fell over, and, when she recov- 
 ered herself, lay like a log that the waves themselves could no 
 longer move. 
 
 " Miss Fane ! " shouted Derwent, above the yells of the skipper 
 and the crew, "you can be brave show it now, by not moving foot 
 or hand." 
 
 The Mercedes had become unnaturally steady ; but also lay un- 
 naturally low in the waves, which were breaking over her bows 
 as she pitched forward heavily, as if with the intention of plung- 
 ing below. Taking advantage of her log-like state, Derwent made 
 his way to where the crew were gathered in confusion. Rosamond, 
 seeing the group, as if it were of shadows through the black wind, 
 beard for some minutes the sounds of a noisy consultation, which, 
 after awhile, ended in silence, Derwent's voice being the last that 
 was heard. Then, looking beyond the group, she seemed to be con- 
 scious of a yet larger and darker shadow looming full in the course 
 of the Mercedes, and out of the direction of the pursuing clouds. 
 How long the storm had lasted, she could not tell ; but though no 
 sailor, she knew it had been long enough to drive the schooner out 
 of her path before leaving her with a shifted cargo and broken 
 down. 
 
 In another minute Derwent was again by her side. "Do what 
 I tell you," said he, " without a word. There is real danger you 
 are one who are best told the confounded cargo is rolling, and 
 there's no sort of doubt has knocked its way through the hold ; and 
 nothing can be done in such a sea, and we pitching in the dark 
 dead towards a lee shore, that may be anywhere in the world for 
 all these imbeciles can tell." 
 
 " Is it a wreck ? " asked Rosamond in a voice more quiet than 
 his own. 
 
 "We may go to pieces any moment. And /have brought you 
 but I'm not going to trouble you now. We shall get what we 
 deserve, no doubt at last I and you. But there's one chance yet. 
 Come ! Yes for the sake of all you hope to see again, you must 
 hold to my arm now even mine." 
 
 The chance appeared to be that, with a shore in sight and reach f
 
 102 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 the boats carried by the Mercedes might save her crew before the 
 waves rolled over and through her ; for that she was sinking bodily 
 t^ere was no doubt at all, literally beaten to pieces by the loosened 
 cargo, whatever it was, and the tornado's fury. Derwent brought 
 her, not without difficulty, into the midst of the desperate crew, 
 who now regarded their former guardian angel with threatening 
 gestures and evil eyes. She had but mocked them with fair breezes 
 the more surely to destroy them with a storm this witch who had 
 come among them straight from the sea. 
 
 But she understood the full meaning neither of their gestures, 
 nor their words. She only knew what the whirl of the next 
 instants left her the sense to feel and see. The boat was speedily 
 on the waves, that now came nearly deck high, and was held by a 
 single rope to prevent her, till she was filled and could be cast 
 off, from being carried away. 
 
 " The lady first ! " cried Derwent ; and she found herself, she 
 knew not how, thrust into the boat that seemed to strain at the 
 rope for freedom. She clambered as best she could over the thwarts, 
 to make all the room she could, but none followed her. What was 
 being done P Some desperate quarrel seemed to be raging on board, 
 even at that awful time. Where was Denvent ? He, surely, did 
 not mean to drown. Suddenly she felt the rope strain, while the 
 clamour on board grew fiercer than ever. It was as if none would 
 enter the boat, which the presence of the storm-witch had doomed. 
 Then she heard a heavy splash, as if some part of the ship had 
 given away : and then all became as silent as the grave. What 
 did it all mean, she cried out ? but only the wind answered her. 
 
 It was horrible. She cried out again ; but her cry was silenced 
 by a shock of the boat against the side of the Mercedes. A great 
 wave heaved up between them : she could feel the cable strain to 
 its utmost and then, like a sea-bird set free, the boat gave an up- 
 ward leap, and bounded forward through the black air and over the 
 black water, as if it were a living thing, bearing her on Heaven 
 knew whither ! and, at last, utterly alone. 
 
 What followed must surely have been a dream only that dreams 
 are ten thousand times less strange. 
 
 She was lying on a beach of white sand, too weak to move, and 
 with the sensation of a horrible aching in all her limbs. She still 
 heard the beat of the sea, but the wind was dead, and the sky was 
 heavenly blue. A fragrance more soft and mystical than that of 
 the sea filled the air, and trees of a strange growth, such as she
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 103 
 
 had seen in books of travels, climbed half-way up a cliff at the fur- 
 ther end of the bay. And she was being stared at, as though they 
 were made of eyes, by a boy and a girl, of perhaps some eight years 
 old, as beautiful as Cupid and Psyche, as brown as coffee berries, 
 and as naked as they had been born. 
 
 She tried to speak ; but, so soon as they saw her eyes, they took 
 to their heels. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 When misers make their florins fly, 
 And gamesters bid the dice eood-bye 
 Is't you, madame, who ask them why f 
 But if the answer still be far, 
 Ask why the toper breaks his jar, 
 And hind with tiger wageth war : 
 Or why (if still the lesson's lost) 
 Should calmest pools grow tempest tosst. 
 Or what unfreezeth hearts of frost 
 Why I, struck through the heart by thee, 
 Yet bless the hand that slayeth me 
 "Tis Love, madame, or Lunacy. 
 
 IT is quite possible to pass through a long life without finding 
 occasion to make personal acquaintance with the name of 
 Derwent. On the other hand, it is not altogether so uncommon 
 as to make it inevitable that any respectable people who happened 
 to bear it should feel disgraced by learning that their distinc- 
 tion is shared by an inmate of one of Her Majesty's gaols. At 
 any rate, the Derwents of Longwood and of Wilton Square 
 were the last people in the world likely to be troubled by more or 
 less kind enquiries behind their backs, if anything happened to a 
 namesake in Lowmoor. No such enquiries would be conducted in 
 Town and in the season, when and where the world has a short 
 memory, whatever might be the case round their country seat, 
 where memories are too often uncomfortably long,' and never for- 
 get if there has been a hanging matter in any family, even a century 
 ago. 
 
 The Derwents at least such of them as were in town for a 
 season of no ancient date were four : Horace Derwent, his 
 mother, and his two sisters, Catherine and Anne. Horace was the 
 only son of his mother, and she was a widow. Such a description, 
 however, though absolutely true, only shows how misleading truth 
 may be. Pity would be entirely wasted on an only son with soma
 
 ,04 A REAL QUEEX. 
 
 eight thousand a year of his own and with his sisters well provided 
 for, or upon a rich widow, whose loss according to those who had 
 known the late Colonel Derwent best had been in every respect 
 clear gain. Liberty for oneself, power over others, plenty of 
 money, and the removal of a husband whom one regrets, three 
 hundred and sixty-five times a year, ever having married, are not 
 matters that call for any excessive sympathy. 
 
 No doubt the Derwents kept their family skeleton, being human. 
 But, whatever he was, he was an exceptionally accommodating 
 and unobtrusive skeleton, and gave marvellously little trouble, 
 keeping himself well out of the way. He was certainly not visibly 
 present in the morning-room where Kate and Anne Derwent were 
 busily engaged together over some all-absorbing and mysterious, 
 but laughter-provoking occupation his place was occupied by the 
 sunshine, who knows how to make himself at home in a big house 
 in Wilton Square quite as well as in a poor man's country cottage. 
 Despite romantic belief, all the good things of this life are not 
 engrossed by the poor, comparatively well off though they un- 
 questionably are. Kate and Anne were fine, fair girls of a good 
 and healthy sort girls who, at first sight, obviously knew how to 
 ride, walk, dance, talk, laugh, and to suit themselves comfortably 
 and gracefully to their position in lif e, whatever it might be. Kate 
 was the elder, livelier, and smaller : Anne the younger, graver, and 
 statelier. But their difference was much more apparent to their 
 relations and their intimate friends than to the outside world. 
 
 " I don't believe," said Kate, " there ever was such a muddle of 
 a visiting list like ours. Every year we hoe up the weeds and sow 
 salt, and roll the grass, and every year the weeds come up worse 
 than ever. Oh, dear ! " 
 
 " Come," said Anne, in her more placid manner, " I don't think 
 ; t.'s quite so bad as that after all. There are some very amusing 
 people, I'm sure " 
 
 " Oh, yes amusing. But it's such a mixture, that's what I 
 mean. Cabbages are useful, and green peas are delicious, but one 
 doesn't plant them among the geraniums " 
 
 " Nor geraniums among the cabbages that's true. But because 
 we don't, that's no reason why we shouldn't, is it, dear ? I'll have 
 my garden mixed, if ever I have one of my own. Ill put all my 
 seeds and bulbs and things into one basket and have it shaken out 
 all over the ground anyhow " 
 
 " Do let's stick to work/' said Kate, " or it'll be lunch time
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 105 
 
 before we've half done. The question is, shall we send cards to 
 the Coles ? " 
 
 " Well they're not amusing, certainly. They're neither gera- 
 niums nor green peas, neither delicious nor beautiful. But they 
 may be cabbages. I wonder if they are ? " 
 
 " Cabbages, Anne ? " 
 
 " Yes useful, you know ; and some people are passionately fond 
 of cabbages. How did we come to know the Coles ? " 
 
 " Let me see I didn't pick them up : nor you. It must have 
 been Horace " 
 
 " Oh, no, Kate they're not at all in his line. The girls are rich, 
 and are not pretty ; and Horace never looks at a girl unless she's 
 very pretty and very poor. It must have been mamma." 
 
 " Ah that's just the worst of it ; we all go on making our own 
 friends, and then nobody ever knows who belongs to who. It's 
 my firm belief, Anne, that people come here that none of us know, 
 because they've found out that each of us will think they belong to 
 the other. Horace is bad enough that way, but mamma's the 
 worst of us all. She has no criterion at all. Something must 
 really be done to restrain mamma. Some day we shall find our- 
 selves introducing a bishop to his own tailor, or some other terrible 
 thing. My dear Anne who are the Coles ? " 
 
 " Well, put a big M against the Coles meaning, ask mamma. 
 Who comes next ? " 
 
 " The Pitcairns." 
 
 " Good gracious P doesn't come next to C ? " 
 
 " Well, it didn't use to ; but I said this list is a muddle. Per- 
 haps the name's Cairn, not Pitcairn, and Pit's the Christian 
 name." 
 
 " My dear, dear, dear Kate, have we come to this then, that we 
 don't know of our friends so much as even their names ? " 
 
 "Yes, Anne, that is what it is coming to indeed thanks to 
 Horace, and mamma, and a little bit to you. But as to the Cairns, 
 or the Pitcairns, or the Pits, things aren't quite so far gone / 
 know them." 
 
 " So it seems, dear name and all ! Who are they ? Did we 
 know them last year ? " 
 
 " I think so ; anyhow, we knew them very well the year before 
 very intimately indeed. They were here three afternoons. I 
 met them at the somebody or other's. He's a clergyman, in the 
 country an Irishman j and she was a Miss Somebody, who had
 
 106 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 money. Have you ever noticed, Anne, that the wives of Irish 
 clergymen were mostly Miss Somebodys with money ? She isn't 
 very nice, but he is, and they're all right, in every way. Yes, 
 we'll have the Pits I mean the Cairns. Write them a card. 
 After all, I dare say they're not in town this year, and won't 
 come." 
 
 " There. I've made it Pitcairn or Pit Cairn they may read it 
 just as they please. Craven Carringtou Deane : they're all right, 
 Dash good gracious, Kate, what human being of our acquaintance 
 answers to the name of Dash ? " 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know. I shall go off my head, if this sort of 
 thing goes on much longer. We've got to get to the Z's, and 
 we've only just begun the D's oh, dear ! No 1 can't remember 
 one single, solitary Dash. By the way, isn't there a Countess 
 Dash, or somebody ? " 
 
 " Not that I know of. Well mark Dash with II, for ask Horace. 
 It doesn't sound like one of mamma's people." 
 
 " And what do you want to ask Horace, if you please ? " asked a 
 good-looking, easy-going young man as he lounged in, with his 
 hands deep down in the pockets of his shooting coat. " Here he 
 stands to answer for himself, if he can." 
 
 " Oh, Horace ! " cried Kate the impulsive, " I was never half so 
 glad to see you before ! Who is Dash ! If you can't tell us I 
 shall go wild." 
 
 " Dash ? Horatiu* sum non CEdipus, my dear child. Why do 
 you want to know ? " 
 
 "Because we're going to be 'at home,' you know, for the 
 season, and are letting the world know. The world ! Four worlds 
 mamma's, Anne's, yours, and mine. Do the Dashes belong- to 
 yours P " 
 
 " The Dashes ? Then there's more than one Dash, is there ? " 
 
 " I suppose so. There's only one Dash down, but when nobody 
 knows people there's sure to be any number of them. Do you 
 know Dash, Horace P " 
 
 " No, Kate. On second thoughts well : no, again." 
 
 " Then there is nothing left me but to go wild." 
 
 " She thinks we are getting rather mixed," said Anne. 
 
 " Rather, indeed ! " said Kate, tossing back her curls. 
 
 " Perhaps I can help you," said the head of the house, the squire 
 of Longwood, with his pleasant smile. He was quite a young 
 man, coming between Kate and Anne, in point of age, unmistakably
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 107 
 
 their brother, but without either Kate's briskness or Anne's dignity. 
 He was big, but of the lazy, good-humoured type at home in the 
 fields and on the moors, where he showed plenty of staying power 
 if little energy, but when at home scarcely taking the trouble to 
 hold himself upright, and contriving to do rather less than any 
 other living man of his age, weight and size. 
 
 " You help, Horace ? " asked Anne, calmly. " Do you know 
 what you would have to do ? No, dear. This is work for strong 
 women, not for weak men." 
 
 " All the better, Nan. I'm always glad to hear of woman's 
 work it means a good time coming for the likes of me. So you're 
 at that old visiting list, are you ? I suppose you've got everybody 
 down?" 
 
 "Everybody, Horace," said Kate. "That wouldn't so much 
 matter, only that we've got nobody too and which is which " 
 
 " I bet you," said Horace Derwent, with a little extra laziness of 
 manner, " that you haven't got everybody down." 
 
 "Horace," said Kate, solemnly, "if you will kindly take the 
 Post Office Directory no, not the Court Guide, but the Post 
 Office Directory and find me out of it one single, solitary name 
 that isn't in our visiting list, I'll " 
 
 "Have you sent a card to the Fanes ? " 
 
 "No. We're only in the D's. We've been pulled up by Dash 
 Who are the Fanes ? Do I know them ? " 
 
 "Well, Kate," said Horace, colouring ever so little, "I don't 
 know that you do indeed, if it comes to that, I'm sure you don't. 
 Fact is, I didn't know them myself till the other day. But you'd 
 like them, awfully you and Anne, I mean. Yes send him a 
 card by all manner of means." 
 
 "Oh Am?" 
 
 " Yes; we certainly do want young men," said Anne, reflectively. 
 " There are always girls ; but young men are becoming an extinct 
 species, it seems to me. Any of your friends, Horace, are sure to 
 be useful, if it's only to let themselves be seen in the doorway. 
 Yes I vote decidedly for Mr. Fane." 
 
 " H'm not that he's exactly young." 
 
 " Well, middle-aged will do. What is he captain colonel ? 
 What's his address ? I must enter him properly, you knew." 
 
 " Oh Mr. Not that he's exactly middle-aged " 
 
 " It seems to me," said Anne, with the air of a judge, and hold- 
 ing her pen suspended over the place for entry, " it seems to me
 
 |0 g A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 that this begins to call for further enquiry, sir. What claims has 
 an unknown Mr. Fane, who cannot even be called exactly elderly, 
 to a place in our doorway, which is already too narrow for half 
 our friends ? " 
 
 u I tell you what it is, young woman," said Horace, beginning a 
 tour of the room, and examining every article it contained as if it 
 were new to him : " our fault is that we have everybody through 
 that doorway which means nobody. Fane is neither everybody 
 nor nobody he's somebody, which is quite another pair of 
 hnrn He's old enough to be my father but we've got a taste 
 in common " 
 
 Oh, Horace ! Horses ? asked Kate. 
 
 " Cigars ? " asked Anne. 
 
 " No. Books old books ! " said Horace, without the ghost of a 
 smile. 
 
 There are some assertions which, however ludicrous from their 
 associations, are so outrageous, so utterly monstrous, as to deprive 
 the quickest-wilted hearers of the faculty of laughter nay, of 
 faculties, save that of an amazed stare. So it was with Catherine 
 and Anne Derwent, who were quick enough at laughter, as a rule, 
 but who knew their brother, and fancied they knew how far a taste 
 for books could prove a bond of sympathy between him and his 
 fellow creatures. For, so far as they were aware, Horace had 
 never read a real book in his life, and that he should recognise the 
 distinction between old books and new books was, in itself, an in- 
 comprehensible marvel. The girls looked at one another to read 
 the jest, if they could, in each other's eyes ; but failed. 
 
 " Good gracious ! Looks, Horace ! " exclaimed Kate. 
 
 " Heavenly powers, Horace ! Books ! " cried Anne. 
 
 " Yes," said their brother, coolly, as he let himself fall into a 
 chair. " They really are most interesting things especially first 
 editions, and tall copies, and all that sort of thing. Fane could 
 show you some books that would make you stare. I'm going to 
 make a library myself, all of black letter, and Fane can give me 
 hints at starting. The only thing I'm sorry about is that I've lost 
 so much time; but Fane must have been double my age when he 
 began. Yes book-hunting's just the finest sport in the world : 
 and you must send a card to Fane." 
 
 It was as if a bishop had suddenly launched out in praise of 
 cock-fighting. Neither at school, nor at college, nor since he en- 
 teied the world, had Horace Derwent shown the faintest tendency
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 109 
 
 towards the most compulsory kinds of scholarship. Nobody had 
 expected it from him, and indeed his attitude towards bookishness 
 had been too indifferent even to amount to contempt it had been 
 identical with that of a Polynesian cannibal towards the music 
 of the future : that is to say, no attitude at all. Saul among the 
 prophets was nothing to Horace Derwent among the folios. His 
 sisters were tinged with as much literature as the rulers of the 
 novel-market considered necessary for young ladies, and on the 
 strength of this took credit for being as well read as the majority 
 of their fellow creatures, as indeed they were : but such terms as 
 first editions and tall copies made them feel that their brother, 
 their unlettered brother, had passed beyond them at a single flight 
 and well, they stared once more. 
 
 "No," said Kate, emphatically, after a long pause. "N , 
 Horace. Those sort of people belong to mamma. We don't want 
 elderly book-worms. I know the kind. I saw one once at the 
 Cravens. He was introduced to me ; and the only thing he said was 
 to ask me if I didn't think the room was very warm. I sai ' nr : 
 and that finished him, poor man. I can see Mr, Fane in my min "j 
 eye a little old gentleman, with his clothes put on nohow, and a 
 wig, and a snuff-box ; and, oh, Horace ! to think of your being 
 some day like that buying books that you can't read, and ihat 
 nobody else wants to. Horace I put down my slipper. I'll have 
 nothing of the kind. You shall not take snuff. You shall not 
 wear a wig. I am your elder sister ; and I'll have nothing >i the 
 kind so there ! " 
 
 "Nonsense, Kate," said her brother, stretching out his legs, 
 thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets, and languidly contem- 
 plating his toes ; book-hunters are the jolliest fellows going. Be- 
 sides, it's intellectual, and all that sort of thing. I'm tired of being 
 stupid I am indeed. I must have a rational pursuit ; and it's 
 time I began. It isn't as if one had to read the books, you know. 
 I don't believe Fane ever reads he hasn't the time. The great 
 thing is to get hold of something that nobody else ever had, and 
 for which all the other fellows would give their ears. I'm begin- 
 ning to make the Derwent collection; and I've found a fellow 
 who's a wonderful hand at finding bargains for, you see, it's a 
 point of honour to get things as cheaply as one can, so that ruin- 
 ing oneself's impossible. You can get a dozen big things in books 
 for the rent of a moor." 
 
 " Where did you pick up this Mr. Fane ? " asked Anne. " If ha
 
 IIO A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 has converted you to books, even their outsides well, he must be 
 a very extraordinary man." 
 
 " lie is" said Horace. " Don't be afraid he's a gentleman. As 
 my guide, philosopher and friend, you must send him a card." 
 
 Must ? " asked Kate. " Well see what slaves we sisters are. 
 Hi< initial, if you please ? " 
 
 A E diphthong, you know." 
 
 " Good gracious, Horace ! I hardly know how to write such a 
 thing! Hasn't the man got even an honest Christian name? 
 \\Y11. There : Mr. A E. diphthong Fane. Address ? " 
 
 " Oh, let me see 28, Richmond Place. That's enough. And 
 by the way " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You may as well put in Miss Fane, too. There's a Miss Fane. 
 There I suppose it's about lunch time : I feel so, anyhow." 
 
 lie rose. But the uncomprehending look had, before he left his 
 chair, already passed out of both his sisters' eyes. Those two pair 
 of eyes met, and the lips below them shared the same smile. 
 
 " Yes, Horace," said Anne, demurely, " Mr. and Miss Fane 
 shall receive a card." 
 
 Horace nodded, and lounged out of the room, whistling as if 
 nothing had happened. 
 
 " Anne, dear ? " asked Kate. 
 
 " Kate, dear ? " answered Anne. 
 
 " Is this number thirty-one or thirty-two ? * 
 
 " Miss Fane ? Let me see I think it's number thirty-three.'' 
 
 " All very pretty, and all very poor. Yes, Anne book-hunt- 
 ing is a delightf ul sport, after all. I wonder how the book will be 
 bound." 
 
 " Yes, Kate and what there'll be to read inside. With most 
 of Horace's books it's been, I'm afraid, Longwood written on the 
 heart. Oh, what geese we were not to guess what Horace's taste 
 for books means ! And the great Derwent collection ! And to 
 think that he thinks that we don't understand ! " 
 
 "Well, Anne anyhow a weight's off my mind. I was afraid 
 Horace was going mad ; but I'm not now. If ever he takes to 
 conchology, or tatting, or the use of the globes, I sha'n't be 
 troubled any more. If it's conchology, I shall remember that 
 there's a lady in the lobster-shell, and understand." 
 
 " Hush," whispered Kate. " Here's mamma."
 
 A REAL QUEEHr. ill 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 What means such talk to me ? My wings, I tro\ 
 
 Are over-wide and strong for peddling trips 
 
 That sparrows practise on the housetops mine 
 
 Are as the eagle's, sir, that toward the sun 
 
 Take flight : and mine the eagle's cosmic eyes 
 
 That take the parish for a paddock : prove 
 
 The shire as but a blot of random ink, 
 
 And all your England but a hank of wool. 
 
 My eyes are all too large to see in small, 
 
 Yea, to perceive aught meaner than the world : 
 
 And e'en the world is petty for I need 
 
 A mirror vast and deep enough to hold 
 
 Mine own pervading image. Bring me straight 
 
 The solar disc 'tis broad enough to serve. 
 
 EVERY family has its own peculiar forms of humour, 
 unless indeed it is so unfortunate as to have no sort of 
 humour at all. The Derwents were, in reality, very amiable 
 people, who, being conscious that they were a trifle common- 
 place and too much like their neighbours, habitually, and un- 
 consciously, developed certain harmless eccentricities, which 
 the ill-natured might call affectations. Herein I speak of the 
 ladies of the household : for Horace was as absolutely unaffected 
 and as content with his commonplaceness as an able-bodied 
 young man can be in these self-conscious and self contemplating 
 days. 
 
 These characteristics of her son were completely acceptable to 
 Mrs. Derwent, who, having been allowed no will of her own 
 during the colonel's life, was, since his death, all the more bent 
 upon making up for lost time. She loved management, and her 
 easy-tempered son was only too willing to be managed it saved 
 him all the trouble of life, and left him all the pleasure, for his 
 mother's despotism was entirely of the indulgent and benevolent 
 order. That he was not without a will of his own Mrs. Derwent 
 had occasionally suspected: but there had never been the least 
 occasion as yet for a collision, and possibly an instinctive prudence 
 warned her to postpone the occasion as long as possible. Of 
 course, she, as a woman and a mother, did not know that ready 
 and habitual submission on the part of a man is the worst possible 
 security for his subjection, because it only shows him to be too 
 strong-minded to waste his self-assertion upon trifles, while 
 occasions that are not trifles are necessarily few and far between. 
 Nothing as yet had seemed to Horace Derwent important enough 
 to demand the infinite discomfort and worry of a domestic battle
 
 ,12 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 not even the most temporarily exciting of those thirty-two or 
 thirty-three love affairs that his sisters had ascribed to him. 
 Still his mothe^ being his mother, foresaw that, though it might 
 be the three hundred and thirty-third, his fate must come a L last; 
 and she also had observed his remarkable preference for poverty 
 as an element in a woman's attraction. Nor had she any the 
 more sympathy with her son's taste for having herself been both 
 pretty and poor before the colonel came. 
 
 She was still a good-looking woman of her years partly per- 
 haps because she had been no longer poor. In tuis, her later 
 middle age, she had exchanged gracefulness for graciousness, 
 brilliancy for dignity, and represented what her Anne might hope 
 to become. It is sometimes dangerous for a mother to be very 
 like a daughter, by thus setting present beauty side by side with 
 the picture of its doom. This was not the case here. Rather, 
 seeing the mother and daughter together, a man meditating 
 marriage would feel assured that the girl came of a good, staying 
 stock, and that she would only cease to be pretty in order to 
 become handsome. And, as to that matter, Mrs. Derwent, look- 
 ing scarcely more than forty, with her fine features, her gracious 
 p.-esence, her fresh complexion, her bright eyes, her amiable 
 smile, and her exceedingly handsome life interest in her son's 
 estate, enjoyed without any sort of restriction, was not unlikely 
 in some quarters to prove even her daughter's rival. She had not 
 the faintest thought of marrying again liberty, sprung from the 
 colonel's grave, was too precious a plant to be thrown away. But, 
 during the more recent years of her widowhood, she had received 
 more than one offer, though she had kept that fact from he 
 children: and, not only so, she had so contrived to refuse her 
 offers as in every case to retain the would-be l>ver as a finn and 
 devoted friend. Indeed, Mrs. Derwent had an altogether extra- 
 ordinary faculty for making many friends, and keeping them all. 
 She was certainly not a brilliant woman, either in thought or in 
 epeech : but, just as certainly, she was no fool. 
 
 "Well, dears," she said, as she made her first appearance 
 that day for she was a very late riser, not out of laziness, 
 but as a believer in plenty of sleep and ease as the most effectual 
 of youth-preservers " how are you getting on with our friends ?" 
 
 " Not much better than the hare," said Kate. " I'm afraid he, 
 couldn't have had many more than we ; or more like the tortoise 
 in the other fable. We haven't finished C."
 
 A REAL QUEEN. nj 
 
 "Then I must help you I suppose." 
 
 " If you can't, mamma, nobody can. Are we to send cards to 
 the Coles?" 
 
 "Are you, Kate? Why, good gracious, child why Avho 
 should you send them to if you were to leave out the Coles ? 
 Why, they're among the very best people we Imow. I don't 
 exactly know wno they are, but they're always at the best houses, 
 and why don't you remember their garden party last year ? No 
 I remember now we weren't able to go : I was thinking of the 
 Deanes. The Coles, let me see, I think old Cole has something to 
 do with business, in a very big way, or else he's a Royal Acade- 
 mician, or an Indian judge I'm not quite sure, but he's certainly 
 one of the three, or anyhow something of the same kind. At any 
 rate he's a very great man : and his daughters are most charming 
 girls not pretty, of course, but just as good as gold." 
 
 "And Dash. Who's Dash, mamma?" asked Anne. 
 
 "Dash, my dear?" 
 
 "Yes Dash. I asked Horace: but he didn't know." 
 
 " Give me the book. Yes there's Dash, to be sure ; and at 
 the same address as the Deanes'. It must be Mrs. Deane's sister : 
 she has a sister very often with her, I know. You had better 
 send a card to Miss Dash, as she's down it can't do any harm, 
 and might give offence : and I wouldn't hurt Lady Deane's feel- 
 ings for the world. The book seems all right," said Mrs. Derwent? 
 as she turned over the pages, and read a name at random here and 
 there. " Fane let me see : who are the Fanes ? " 
 
 "Some of Horace's people," said Anne. "He made us enter 
 them just before you came down." 
 
 "Indeed? Horace doesn't often trouble himself about such 
 things or indeed much about anything, indoors. I don't know 
 any Fanes: but it's a good name. The Marchioness of Hor- 
 chester was a Fane. Richmond Place. . . . Did hs tell you who 
 they are ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Anne. " Horace has turned book-worm, it 
 seems and Mr. Fane is a very big book-worm, indeed. They're 
 kindred souls." 
 
 " Horace Book-worm ! My dear what do you mean ? " 
 
 " He says book-hunting is better than fox-hunting ; and he is 
 going to make a Derwent collection, all in black letter ' 
 
 " My dear ! " exclaimed her mother, " do you know what you're 
 saying ? Of course it's quite right to have Mr. Fane at our 
 
 8
 
 114 A REAL 
 
 aouse, if hb's a distinguished man. A great many people do take 
 an interest in books, I know but Horace! It doesn't seem 
 natural why, ^e was over seven years old before he could read. 
 And his father never read anything either, except the Times, 
 and the Army and Faiy Gazette, and Hoyle's Games, and now 
 and then the cookery book when his liver was particularly 
 troublesome. I hope Horace isn't going to be crotchety. I must 
 see to this I must indeed. If he begins with books, he may go 
 on to pictures, and then to diamonds : and it's not as if lie were a 
 lich man." 
 
 Mrs. Derwent fell into a brown study: for this new departure 
 on the part of her son was fully as inexplicable to her as to 
 Kate and Anne. Indeed it was more so, for she had studied 
 Horace through and through, and believed that she knew him by 
 heart, with no more than that slight, concealed misgiving that 
 he was capable of a certain obstinacy, hitherto unexercised and 
 ever invisible. Kate and Anne, having their suspicions of how 
 the land lay, nevertheless felt bound in honour not to spoil sport, 
 and, besides, were caught by a very natural and wholesome spirit 
 of curiosity to see and judge this Miss Fane for themselves, before 
 deciding whether she was to be suppressed or no. So they went 
 on with their work, or rather with their chat about their work, 
 until they had spent long enough over doing nothing to feel 
 their consciences at ease, and to be justified in considering that 
 something attempted, something done, had earned the right to 
 spend the afternoon as they pleased. 
 
 On this occasion, their pleasure was to order the carriage, to 
 make some calls, while that of Mrs. Derwent was to stay at 
 home. Indeed it had been at her own suggestion that she and 
 her daughters parted company, on the score that she had some 
 letters to write, and also wanted a long day's rest before beginning 
 the evening's dissipation. But, when left alone in the morning- 
 room, she did not begin to write letteis: indeed, she did not 
 attempt to occupy herself in any way, beyond strolling leisurely 
 up and down the room, and taking an occasional glance at the 
 mirror in passing. She had every reason to be satisfied with 
 what she saw there : and when a loud double knock at the street 
 door was followed by the announcement of "Dr. Rackstraw," 
 *he was as ready for the reception of a visitor as if she had been 
 expecting a duke for hours. 
 
 "Tell Dr. Rackstraw that I will see him here." said she.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 Dr. Rackstraw was a striking and even interesting-looking man, 
 and not the less so for not being stamped with any of the con- 
 ventional signs of the English gentleman, such as might be 
 expected on the part of anybody admitted as a matter of course 
 into the room where the ladies of Longwood received only their 
 most intimate and particular friends. It is the reverse of dis- 
 respectful to the British colonies to say that their gentlemen are 
 not of any conventional pattern: and there was in this sense a 
 decidedly colonial cut about Dr. Rackstraw. But there was 
 something more: or rather colonialism intensified. He was 
 nearly, if not fully, six feet high, and lean to gauntness, some- 
 thing after the accepted model of a North- Western trapper all 
 steel and whip-cord. His face was completely and carefully 
 shaved, and his complexion had been tanned into what, both in 
 colour and texture, resembled leather, so that it was not easy to 
 tell his age. As to that matter, he had obviously done and seen 
 too much to be young ; but, on the other hand, any point beyond 
 the first stage of middle age was inconsistent with the almost 
 child-like curve of his singularly handsome lips, his clear blue 
 eyes and his perfectly nmwrinkled skin. His hair, also, worn 
 rather affectedly long, was still thick and soft. But, despite these 
 almost feminine attributes, emphasised by the Greek style of his 
 features generally, Dr. Hackstraw's prevalent expression was that 
 of alertness and thoroughly masculine vigour and energy. Yet, 
 he was grave, even melancholy, in his expression and bearing, 
 so that altogether a physiognomist would have found him a 
 singularly interesting, because inconsistent and even self-contra- 
 dictory, study. He was dressed in the deepest of black and the 
 whitest of linen a >td choice, because his long black frock coat 
 besides being too aew and too glossy, emphasised the lean 
 angularity of his sir feet of stature, and somehow seemed to bring 
 out the points of manner and carriage least consistent with the 
 position of being perfectly at home in Mrs. Derwent's morning- 
 room that he appeared to assume. 
 
 On the whole, what with his long brown hair, his long black 
 coar, the cherubic curl of his lips, and the frosty steel of his deep- 
 set blue eyes, he was not a man to whom his fellow men were 
 likely all at once to take kindly. Women, however, judge men 
 by a very different code of signals, and, above all, are indifferent, 
 or rather blind, to those details which classify a man as Gentle- 
 nan, or as the contrary, or as of merely neutral colour. Men 
 
 8 A
 
 n6 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 are often amazed at the paste that women take for diamond 
 but then, to be sure, there is no certainty that they are always 
 right about one another and women always wrong. As may have 
 been always gathered, Mrs. Derwent was an exceedingly large- 
 minded woman in the matter of acquaintances her heart was as 
 wide aa her doors, and admitted more than the laws of mechanics 
 allow. 
 
 " You got my note, then, dear Mrs. Derwent ? " asked Doctor 
 Ilackstraw, in a hard, rather high, but clear and not unmusical 
 voice, with a slight twang about it not Am&rican, or Continental, 
 but still not wholly English : a voice that would alone suffice to 
 call attention to its owner, so inspired was it with marked in- 
 dividuality. " It was good of you to remain in this beautiful 
 afternoon." 
 
 "Oh, no there was no goodness about it at all," said she. 
 " Indeed, I am in want of your advice about a hundred things 
 but they'll keep. In fact, now, when I come to think of them, 
 I hardly remember what they are. I got so into the way of 
 coming to you for advice in poor Colonel Derwent's time that 
 whenever any little thing troubles me I want to send for you 
 and then they're really so small that, when you do come, they're 
 gone. Not that it's altogether like that, to-day." 
 
 " There would be no trouble at all, dear Mrs. Derwent, dear 
 friend," said he, " if you would only see things in their proper 
 light : if you could only see how it is a law of nature that man is 
 nothing without woman, and woman nothing, nay, less tlun 
 nothing, without man " 
 
 " Hush ! No more of that, if you please," said Mrs. Derwent, 
 hastily, and colouring quickly. But she found means to glance 
 in the mirror as she blushed, and the eight of her own colour 
 made her smile. " We are to be friends, you know, like we've 
 always been. How shall I ever be able to ask your advice again, 
 if you will forget that I'm an old lady with a grown-up son ? " 
 
 " I can't forget what I cever knew," said he solemnly. " There 
 are some women and some men too that never grow old ; you 
 are one of those women 1 am one of those men. Do you know 
 that I am younger now than I was at twenty-one ? The secret's 
 easy it comes of merging my own existence in that of others. 
 There are times, my dear friend, when I forget the very existence 
 of Hermon Rackstraw, almost his very name, so absorbed am 
 I in the realisation of myself as a mere atom iu the progres os
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 117 
 
 the universe and of humanity. That is a terrible thought a; 
 times." 
 
 " It must be ! " said Mrs. Perwent : for one of her c&arms was 
 her readiness and completeness of sympathy, quite independently 
 of her comprehenson. She could at the same moment sympathise, 
 quite honestly, with the artist and with his rival, with the fox 
 and with the hounds ; a point to which the loftiest intelligence can 
 never hope to attain, so much more catholic are hearts than minds. 
 " It must be terrible indeed ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear friend. But it is not so terrible as when the atom 
 wakes to discover that it also is an entity, and Alone ! Dear 
 friend, have you realised what it means to be alone ? " 
 
 "I'm not sure I have, since the colonel died. You see, I 
 have Kate, and Anne, and Horace now: and you and all my 
 friends." 
 
 " True. You are a happy woman. And I have my fellow 
 creatures. I ought not to complain. Only there is so much to be 
 done, and so little time to do it in : so much and so little means. 
 However, I didn't coine to talk of my own troubles. And you 
 said you have some of your own.'' 
 
 "Well, I have. At least, not exactly troubles, but But you 
 
 have something to say to me ? " 
 
 " Something but, whatever it is, it can wait for what you have 
 to say to me. My something is only a request for a very small 
 favour. "What is yours ? " 
 
 "Oh, I'm afraid it will seem very small to a man like you, with 
 the business of all the world on your hands 
 
 He looked quickly at her for a moment, as if to see whether 
 her words were not a trifle tainted with sarcasm. But finding no 
 sign of such a thing, he corrected her. " No, not the business 
 the welfare," said he. " The welfare of those dark regions 
 where the torch of civilisation has never yet beamed. As 
 Agassiz said, when a thing begins to pay, it has nothing more to 
 do with me. I am a pioneer." 
 
 " It's about Horace my son." 
 
 " Yes, my dear friend ? " 
 
 " You know what a boy he is not exactly leaned, or clever, 
 but still the best of boys. I thought, till to-day, there wasn't a 
 thought in his heart that I didn't know " 
 
 " Yes : mothers always think that, well ? " 
 
 " And to-day, the girls tell me, he has set up a crotchet for
 
 US A REAL QUEE*. 
 
 collecting books. If it had been horses, or dogs, or guns, or 
 postage stamps but books ! "What can it mean ? " 
 
 Dr. Rackstraw considered. " Certainly," said he, " I should 
 not have said, off-hand, that books were much in my young friend's 
 line. And it's an awkward sort of a craze, too : books are costly 
 things." 
 
 " Indeed they are ! Why the girl's novels cost a guinea and a 
 half, I believe, when they're new." 
 
 " A guinea and a half ! Do you know that old books have often 
 cost a thousand guineas and more ? Why a man, dear Mrs. 
 Derwent, had better take to gambling, right away. And there's no 
 use in them none. The time is coming when every book that 
 wasn't written last week will be treated as a relic of the dark ages 
 as it ought to be. Old books are the petrifactions of old, that 
 is to say false, ideas. The newspaper is the literature of the 
 future the book that a man buys, and reads, and throws away, and 
 that leaves his mind as open as it found it. Whenever I open up 
 any of this world's dark corners whether in Africa or in Polynesia 
 I set up a printing press the first thing, for the press is the great 
 engine of civilisation, next to steam, and the press means the 
 newspaper. Mr. Derwent's fancy is distinctly reactionary, and 
 diverts money backwards, which is distinctly unnatural and wrong. 
 Is this the first time he has been troubled with such dangerous 
 ideas ? " 
 
 " Then it is dangerous ? Good gracious a thousand guineas 
 for one book how big it must have been ! You alarm me, Doctor 
 Rackstraw. I'm glad I sent for you, indeed. Will you speak 
 tohimP" 
 
 Dr. Rackstraw shook his head. " I'm afraid it would be 
 of little use," said he. " I don't know why, but Mr. Horace 
 Derwent distrusts me, though I am the most devoted of 
 his friends, Perhaps he thinks me a little too near the throne 
 though I'm far enough from it, God knows .... But I 
 mustn't speak of that. Is this the first time he has had such 
 a craze ? " 
 
 " You agree with me that it must be stopped, then P ** 
 
 "Surely I do." 
 
 " And what do you suppose can be the cause P " 
 
 " I cannot venture to suppose, my dear friend. I have reason 
 to believe, I know. Here is a young man, full of health, life, 
 and energy and blessed with a mother such as such as you,
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 119 
 
 dear Mrs. Derwent, dear friend : but he has no occupation none 
 worthy of such privileges as his are. If I had half his means, I 
 would by this time have civilised the half of Africa ; I would 
 have dressed every negro in clothes like my own, and have 
 embraced them in the railway system of the world. It can be 
 done and I know how. At this very moment I have three 
 schemes of the kind on hand. I am but a pioneer Mr. Horace 
 might be a field-marshal of civilisation, if he pleased. Don't be 
 afraid : he needn't go out anywhere : he needn't leave your apron 
 his home, for a single day. All he need do would be to give his 
 name to one of my those three companions, and serve on the 
 board. He wouldn't be running after old books then ! Speak to 
 him seriously, dear Mrs. Derwent. Dear friend, I don't want to 
 revive unpleasant memories, but Lawrence Derwent his half- 
 brother, the colonel's eldest son he, too, was a young man with 
 nothing to do. And see to what he came ! " 
 
 Whether Dr. Hermon Rackstraw intended the result or not, 
 Mrs. Derwent flushed up in another sort of fashion than when he 
 was giving the widow to understand that, with or without hope, 
 she was the one woman in the world to him. 
 
 " Dr. Rackstraw ! " she exclaimed, with a sharpness in her voice 
 which spoke more plainly of departed youth than all the other 
 effects of all her years, " what, in the name of Heaven, has 
 a forger, a convict, to do with my son ? " 
 
 " Except that they were the sons of one father nothing : 
 thank God, nothing, dear friend. I never knew the colonel's 
 first wife, Lawrence's mother ; but the colonel must have had 
 strangely contradictory tastes. She must have been as unlike you 
 as an alligator from a damask rose. But these skeletons what 
 household has them not ? are not meant to be forgotten. They 
 have their use, and there use is to warn. Mr. Horace, though 
 he don't like me, is not likely to do anything ungentlemanly, 
 that I am the first to allow. But the same fatal idleness, which 
 leads one man into crime will lead another into book collecting, 
 or some other folly which, under all the circumstances of life, is 
 also criminal in its own way. Mr. Horace has, I believe, eight 
 thousand a year, and will have more. But what is eight thousand 
 a year to a book-hunter? A drop in the ocean. He'll be through 
 his capital in no time, as sure as my name's Hermon Rackstraw. 
 And all for what ? a shelf full of lumber that he can't even 
 read. It's not forgery, but it's ruin. And, under all the circum-
 
 120 A KEAL QUEF.X. 
 
 stances, I'm hanged, dear friend, if I know which is the worst 
 of the two. Lawrence Derwent lost Longwood by his fault ; see 
 that Mr. Horace don't lose it by his folly, that's all. There, I 
 speak my mind, as a pioneer ; but I love that boy as if he were 
 mine as well as yours and I wish he were ! " 
 
 The case was too urgent to admit of Mrs. Derwent's noticing 
 certain vulgarities in her adviser-general's way of putting things ; 
 and, indeed, his picture had fairly frightened her. She had not 
 been able, without masculine help, to see things from so panoramic 
 a point of view. He saw the state of mind into which his zeal 
 had thrown her, and struck again. 
 
 When I first became acquainted with Colonel Derwent," said 
 he, " his son Lawrence was as fine a lad as you'd wish to see. 
 But he had nothing to do, except what he fancied. Now it was 
 yachting, now it was dicing, now it was stage-playing ; but the 
 paramount claims of humanity upon every human atom he could 
 never be made to see. I don't believe he cared a cent whether the 
 women of the Cactus Islands got their stuffs from Lancashire, or 
 whether they had no stuffs at all. His father cut him off without 
 a shilling I will say for the colonel that he was a just man in 
 money matters and very properly made Mr. Horace his heir. 
 You know what happened the young man, having no fixed 
 principles, tried to set things straight by producing a later will 
 forged and Lowmoor was his end. But what's sauce for the 
 the one, is sauce for the other, my dear friend. Mr. Horace 
 couldn't do anything unbecoming an honest man and a gentleman 
 no, no. But he can lose Longwood as surely as his brother. 
 Cards, my dear friend, have been called the devil's books. But 
 no less surely, Books old Books are the devil's cards." 
 
 "You frighten me out of my wits!" said Horace's mother, 
 rising and pacing the room. " I never thought of all this it is 
 dreadful 1 We must think what is to be done. . . . But I 
 mustn't be selfish. What did you want to say to me ! n 
 
 " Oh I was half forgetting*. After the sad business you have 
 told me, it seems so small. No, I'm wrong. After all, nothing's 
 small. And, in a way, this is really a great thing, though it won't 
 take five minutes to tell." 
 
 " I'm thinking of my boy ! But I can listen. Well P " 
 
 " It's rather a curious circumstance if it wasn't that toe many 
 curious circumstances happen to me to be noticeable one more 
 than the other. I needn't tell you of my old connection with the
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 121 
 
 Goblin Islands; you know all about that that's where Port Hack- 
 straw is, which is now bidding fair to be a centre of civilisation in 
 one of the most neglected corners of the world. I am Agent- 
 General for the Goblin Islands, and in that capacity I have 
 received notice that I shall shortly be called upon to do the 
 honours to a most illustrious personage in short to a Heal 
 Queen ! " 
 
 " Good gracious ! a Queen ? " 
 
 " Yes : a Eeal Queen. The Queen of an unknown island 
 think of there being an unknown island on the world's map in 
 these days ? Even I, who have reason to know how behind- 
 hand the geographers even still are, was surprised. But there's 
 no question about it, dear friend. It must, however, have become 
 known to some extent, since I was in those seas, and since the 
 last maps were made, became obviously, if the Queen of that 
 Island has discovered the rest of the world, some portion of the 
 world must have discovered the Island. However, that may be, 
 my correspondent, who is my agent at Port Rackstraw, or rathei 
 whose agent-general I am in Great Britain, writes me that Ilei 
 Majesty landed recently from a large canoe at the largest of the 
 Goblins, not far from Port Rackstraw, and managed to convey to 
 my agent-correspondent her desire to visit this country. I don't 
 know how she ever came to hear of this country I hope, if it was 
 from shipwrecked sailors, that the process of cooking them was 
 not too painfully long " 
 
 " Good gracious ! " exclaimed Mrs. Derwent, starting. 
 
 " There are notorious cannibals in those seas," said Dr. Rack- 
 straw, quietly. " I have been nearly eaten myself, more than a 
 dozen times : no doubt if I fattened better, I shouldn't be now sit- 
 ing here. Anyhow, the desire to break through her barbaric limits 
 shows remarkable enlightenment in a queen of unheard-of savages 
 whether they be cannibals or no. It is an occasion of stupendous 
 interest a supreme opportunity, dear friend! We have had 
 African princes, Indian princes, kings from the Sandwich Islands, 
 Japanese embassies but never a queen from an island absolutely 
 unknown. Think what she will see and learn, and what a 
 responsibility rests upon us, who will have the making or marring 
 of that island to the end of time ! I shall lose no time she 
 is due at Southampton the day after to-morrow. I shall lose not 
 a day in taking her toBirmingham and Manchester, and the Black 
 Country, and all our really civilised districts, and make her give
 
 laa A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 orders for cotton (foods and hardware, and machinery, and every- 
 thing that an enlightened community can want to buy, or that an 
 enlightened Empire can want to sell. Bnt even British commerce 
 isn't everything. Her Majesty must learn British culture too. 
 Would you, in the sacred name of civilisation, dear friend, send 
 one of these cards of yours to this Real Queen ? " 
 
 "A Queen!" 
 
 Mrs. Derwent was impressed by the title, though borne by a 
 savage, who probably would not have known the meaning of the 
 word. But after a full minute's rumination, her thoughts took 
 another turn. 
 
 " Of course as you put it like that." 
 
 " In the sacred name of civilisation P " 
 
 " Yes like that I don't like to refuse. But a black woman 
 perhaps a cannibal ! And, oh, Dr. Rackstraw are you sure they 
 wear enough clothes ? " 
 
 " Oh the colour's nothing, it gives distinction to a room, and 
 excites conversation. As for cannibalism I don't know how Her 
 Majesty may live at home, but if she is one, all the better ; there's 
 a delight in civilising a good, right down square barbarian that 
 one never gets out of your milk-and-water savage. Mark my 
 words she'll be converted from that by her first ice cream. As 
 for dress she will of course conform to the custom of the 
 country. If you'll give me the address of your dressmaker, I'll 
 put Her Majesty into her hands the day after she arrives. Dear 
 friend next to steam, and above the printing press, the foremost 
 of all civilising agents is a dressmaker, like yours." 
 
 " She is certainly an artist in her way. . . . Well, I sup- 
 pose I must consent though really the idea, it is so strange and 
 eccentric, makes me almost afraid. And how in the world shall I 
 direct the card?" 
 
 " Ah my correspondent writes that she wishes to be incog- 
 nita: at first, at any rate. As far as I can make out, her proper 
 title is Queen Queen Ngahoung Qhlawu, of the Island of 
 Apahu. But that won't do at all. There are reasons, good 
 reasons, for her going about as a private person : queens never 
 learn, and only see what they're shown. We must have a name 
 and style that won't look odd in a hotel book, and that won't 
 be out of keeping with a lady of colour. Let me see you'd 
 better .make out your card to Senhora Miranda. That sounds 
 Portuguese, and euphonius, and perfectly vague distinguished,
 
 A REAL QUEEX. 123 
 
 pronounceable, and telling nothing at all. She shall be Senhora 
 Miranda while she's here." 
 
 "Perhaps you would kindly write the name on the card," said 
 Mrs. Derwent, seeking among the chaos of cards, filled and un- 
 filled, that had been left unsorted by her daughters for one that 
 would serve : " I'm not good at foreign names." Evidently Dr. 
 Rackstraw's recommendation of a new acquaintance was all- 
 sufficient for her, though to everybody who knew him less inti- 
 mately his account of the real queen whom he professed to have 
 caught in the interests of civilisation might seem to require a little 
 judicious sifting before his faith in the report of his corres- 
 pondent in the Goblin Islands could be cordially shared. " Here 
 is a card," said Mrs. Derwent, at last, taking one from the heap. 
 " No that is for Mr. Fane. What's this ? Mr. and Miss Fane ! " 
 
 A light seemed all at once to break upon her a ray of the 
 same light that had broken upon the girls when they first heard 
 of a Miss Fane. " Dr. Rackstraw !" said she. 
 
 " Yes, dear friend ? " 
 
 " Do you know any people of the name of Fane ? " 
 
 " No. I never knew anybody named Fane." 
 
 " They live at 28, Richmond Place. And " 
 
 Well ? " 
 
 " I want you to find out for me who they are." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 While wearily I wandered round, 
 
 I heard a whispered song 
 " In seven years are all things found, 
 
 If they be lost so long. 
 There's magi<^ on that number set : 
 
 And they 1 hat part in tears, 
 Yat cannot in one hour forget. 
 
 May meet iii Seven years." 
 
 HERMON RACKSTRAW, the self-appointed agent-general 
 for the civilisation of savages, and reported by those who did 
 not like him to make a very fair commercial profit out of 
 his calling, might easily have executed the behest of the well- 
 looking and well-left widow if, instead of conversing with the 
 mother, he had followed the son. Sure enough, Horace Derwent's 
 newly awakened passion for old black letter, which had sown such 
 a harvest of dismay in the family bosom, carried him straight to 
 the house in Richmond Place, where it was to be indulged.
 
 24 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 Not manycuch houses are to be seen: though probably this 
 city of all things has never been at any time without one or two. 
 For the thing or creature that is not to be found in London is not 
 to be found in the world. 
 
 Horace, at the street door, asked for Mr. Fane, and was ad- 
 mitted. But the admission apparently amounted merely to a per- 
 mission to attack a series of barricades. The entrance passage was 
 piled with books, presumably, from their exposure to all comers, 
 of but little value : even less must have been the worth of those 
 which served for stumbling-blocks upon the stairs. It was rather 
 the entrance to the cave of a slovenly student than of a careful 
 collector ; and Horace, in the earlier days of his hobby, had won- 
 dered what sort of servant would consent to stay in a place where 
 not a tray could be carried upstairs or down without imminent 
 risk to the neck of bearer. But he had long ceased to wonder 
 at such impersonal questions. He found his own way into 
 what had no doubt been intended for the drawing-room, to find 
 confusion ten times confounded. It was a fairly large room, 
 but how it was furnished no mortal eyes could tell, seeing 
 that it was the headquarters of the army of volumes whereof 
 the landing, the staircase, and the passage, were but the out- 
 posts of the advanced guard. But, straight as an arrow, his 
 eyes went straight to a certain corner between the fire-place and 
 one of the windows. They lighted up by the road, and lie moved 
 eagerly forward, but at the same moment, from the side of the 
 girl who had brought the brightness into his eyes, there rose, 
 as if from a cave of books, the figure of a grave young man, 
 without a coat, and with the sleeves rolled back as for labour. 
 Horace looked vexed, and he lounged forward after his normal 
 fashion, as if he were merely making an ordinary morning call. 
 
 " You seem busy, Miss Fane," said he, holding out his hand. 
 
 " Oh, don't touch me ! " cried the girl. " Look at my hands, 
 and touch me if you dare," she said, holding up two palms that 
 were certainly strangely black for those of a young lady his 
 sisters had never dreamed of hands like these. 
 
 It is a long long time since we have seen or thought of Sophy. 
 Indeed, she has grown out of all knowing ; for since we knew her 
 when she was that high and "that " was very little it is going 
 on for nine years. And yet she has neither grown so much nor 
 changed so much as might be warranted by the difference between 
 one-and-twenty and thirteen ; for she is still small and vivacious,
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 125 
 
 and her eyes are as much like soft lightning as ever they were 
 The spirit of curiosity had not, it is to be feared, been exorcised 
 Vy the incantations of time, and a sprite of mischief seemed td 
 nave had a finger in the twisting of every brown curl. That no 
 woman would have called her pretty, I am sure. That nine men 
 out of ten would have sworn that she was pretty, I am equally 
 *ure : at any rate, Horace Derwent swore it, as he looked, lazily ; 
 videed, but with looks of little favour, towards the strange young 
 man without a coat and with turned up sleeves. He was evidently 
 not a carpenter or a man from the pantechnicon so what the 
 devil was his business there? 
 
 "Mr. Hargrave Mr. Derwent," said Sophy, bringing two 
 volumes together with a bang, and making their dust fly. " Mr. 
 Hargrave is helping me re-arrange the library. A new folio 
 has come in, and that obliges all the shelves to be arranged over 
 again. Mr. Derwent, will you take off your coat, and roll up your 
 sleeves, and help, too ? " 
 
 Horace bowed his acknowledgment of the introduction, and was 
 a little surprised to notice that this Mr. Hargrave, for no apparent 
 reason, started and changed colour on hearing his name perhaps 
 the fellow was shy. Altogether he was not, so Horace thought, a 
 prepossessing person, with his set, almost sullen look, his general 
 awkwardness, the atmosphere of dust which he appeared to exhale, 
 and, above all, his close proximity to Sophy Fane. Horace 
 would have given much to know how long he had been there. 
 
 " If I could help you I'd take off twenty coats," said Horace, 
 "but I don't see why you shouldn't rest a minute. So your 
 uncle has been getting a new treasure, has he ? Is he better 
 to-day?" 
 
 "Yes, a little. But you won't see him," said Sophy, between 
 a smile and a sigh. " He has a new treasure, as you say and he's 
 carried it off into hie den, so that nobody may come between it 
 and him. We're turning the house out of windows to make a 
 place for it, Oswald Mr. Hargrave and I." 
 
 That "Oswald and I " almost made Horace hate Mr. Hargrave. 
 But he was much too true a young Briton to show his feelings ; 
 and only protested against the occupation of his silent rival by 
 clearing a dozen volumes off the corner of the sofa, and sitting 
 down. 
 
 " You are sadly lazy ! " said she. 
 
 " Lazy yes ! Sadly no. The fact is, I only came to let your
 
 126 A REAL QUELN. 
 
 uncle know that I've been searching everywhere, all over London 
 for an uncut what's-his-name Hunsden's Flora, you know, that 
 he said he'd give his ears for ; and that at last I've run her down. 
 At least, I hope so ; and I thought he might be glad to know." 
 
 " Glad P Glad isn't the word ! But don't tell him so to-day 
 you'll spoil his present pleasure. Wait till that's in its place, 
 which, from the look of things I should think would be in about 
 tn years, and then let him know that there's something still left 
 to live for. Thank you indeed, Mr. Derwent ; not that I can thank 
 you for so much kindness, so much trouble do you mind taking a 
 very dusty hand ? " 
 
 He did not mind ; he not only took the very dusty hand, but, 
 regardless of the coatless rival among the book-heaps, touched it 
 with his lips, and held it for an instant more. Strange to say, 
 when this was over, and he looked up, the coatless rival had 
 vanished from the room. 
 
 "Miss Fane," said he, "you really oughtn't to work like this. 
 Why should one new book cause chaos to come again ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't mind. It's something to do. And you know my 
 uncle. If it wasn't for the books, arranging, and the disarranging, 
 and the re-arranging but no; nobody could quite know, but 
 Oswald and me." 
 
 "Oswald ? " asked Horace, his lips, just now made warm by the 
 dusty little hand, all at once struck cold again. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Hargrave, the gentleman who was here just now." 
 
 " And who is Mr. Hargrove ? I didn't know you had any 
 friends I hadn't seen. Is he a great friend of yours ? " 
 
 " Only the oldest friend we have in the world. We don't see 
 much of him, I wish we saw more, but he's a good deal abroad. 
 He he wanted to marry my poor sister, Rosamond, who died. 
 He's never forgotten her, and he never will no, though he's a 
 man." 
 
 " Though he's a man ! Because he's a man, you mean. As if I 
 could forget a woman I loved," said Horace, unmindful of numbers 
 one to thirty-two, but feeling that his prejudice against Oswald 
 Hargrave had been at any rate hasty and premature. "Poor 
 fellow ! I can understand it, though, if she was anything like you.' 
 
 " But she was not the least bit like me ! She was the most 
 beautiful, the cleverest, the very best girl that ever was born, or 
 that ever will be. Talk of me beside Rosamond me ! She 
 would have died for me, and I would have died for her ; and when
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 12," 
 
 she did die well, there was the end of life, of everything but old 
 books, for us all. Everytning broke to pieces after that ; poor 
 Oswald's heart, and uncle's antiquities, that turned out to be frauds, 
 and our old country life aiid but, well, I can't do in a stress 
 what she would have done, but I do what I can. I can dust books ; 
 so here goes again." 
 
 The bang of the two dusty volumes went hard to Horace Der- 
 went's heart this time. 
 
 "Sophy," began he, unconscious that for the first time he had 
 spoken her Christian name aloud. 
 
 But she was, or seemed to be, intent upon other things. She was 
 punishing the books heavily, and her eyes were filling with tears. 
 Horace knew something about the story of the Fanes, and had 
 guessed, wrongly enough, a great deal more than he could possibly 
 know ; but at this moment he felt that all his guessing had all 
 been wrong. But he had long guessed that he loved her ; and he 
 knew it now. 
 
 " I will help you with those books," said he, looking at the 
 tears in her eyes. 
 
 But his very look must have dried them. " You help ? " she 
 asked, with a bright little laugh, as natural as the sunshine in the 
 heart of an April shower. " Why, I don't believe you could work 
 if you tried. But I forgot to have got that Flora you must have 
 worked and walked indeed " 
 
 " And you gave me your fingers for it. Will you give them 
 again ? " 
 
 But, alas for his hope to keep those blackenel fingers for at least 
 one instant longer than before ; at that most promising of moments 
 Oswald Hargrave came back into the room, clothed this time, and 
 like a common Christian man ; and two more easy mannered people 
 than Horace and Sophy no interrupter of a tete-a-tete could pos- 
 sibly have found. 
 
 " Then shall I bring the Flora f " asked Horace, carelessly 
 enough, " the next time I call ? " 
 
 " Please if you can. I needn't give it him all at once " 
 
 " Then I will go now," he said, almost with a sigh : for there 
 was little pleasure in remaining with this silent Oswald to make a 
 third. 
 
 That visit had not been what he had hoped nay, it had been 
 much less, for nine times out of ten, except when her uncle was 
 present he had found her alone, and h er uncle was deep in some
 
 I2b A REAL QUEEX. 
 
 new old hook every tenth time. Still he had fallen more deeply 
 in love, and that was something to make his few minutes in Rich- 
 mond Place not wholly in vain. For it is the loving (I speak 
 subject to correction) that is the great thing in love after all. 
 S.ijmv had not said much, but what she had said about her 
 dead sister had seemed to him full of heart, and her readiness to 
 laujrh through her tears and to cry through her laughter had 
 touched him with the whole secret of the spring. It was a real 
 disappointment to him, however, when, being inclined to go home 
 in company with his own thoughts the longest way, for the sake 
 of such solitude as the streets alone can give a man, he was over- 
 taken by Oswald Hargrave a very few yards from the door. 
 
 So Hargrave had been delaying to obtain the priceless privilege of 
 last words ; and Horace might have finished his visit in peace if he 
 had only had the patience to stay on. Unquestionably Hargrave 
 was a bore. But still the man who had broken his heart for the 
 dead sister was to be pitied and borne with, for Horace was a good- 
 natured fellow, even when crossed, and he fancied he knew how 
 he would feel if Sophy should suddenly walk over a cliff into the 
 sea, as poor Rosamond had done. Thank God that it had been 
 Rosamond and not Sophy ! So he thrust his hands into his 
 pockets, and asked, quite good-humouredly : 
 
 " Are you going my way ? I'm after that Flora. Are you a 
 book-worm too ? " 
 
 "Not I," said Oswald: and, for the first time heard to spoak, it 
 was wonderful how the whole manner and expression of this grave 
 young man seemed to improve ; " but I'll help you angle for the 
 Flora, if you don't mind." Horace felt as if the eyes of his com- 
 panion were seeking to penetrate him it was an odd feeling and 
 uot an agreeable one, callous as Horace was to the fancies with 
 which sensitive people are troubled. 
 
 If he could only have guessed what his name, the name of Der- 
 went, meant to Oswald Hargrave ; but what need is there to specu- 
 late on what might have happened had he known what he could 
 not know ? For Oswald, and Oswald alone, had clung to the hope, 
 so passionate as to amount to the faith which scorns reason, that 
 Rosamond might not have perished ; that her incredible romance 
 was no dream of fever, but simply and literally true, and that 
 Derwent, the escaped forger from Lowmoor, might be forced to 
 unravel the mystery could he be found anywhere within the circle 
 of the world. He knew how to keep his faith to himself, as sano
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 125 
 
 men know how to keep a secret what others would take for a 
 craze. But he had changed the life of a farmer for that of a man 
 as devoted to a craze as if he had been named ^Eneas Fane. Der- 
 went is at any rate uncommon enough to serve for a way-mark to 
 a pursuer who had hitherto sought for the slightest sign of a trail 
 in vain. 
 
 Assuredly this frank-looking, easy-going young gentleman was 
 no escaped convict : that was too absurd a notion even to serve as a 
 straw for a drowning man. But, according to all accounts, the 
 convict himself had been a gentleman, or at least in the position 
 of one : he must therefore have had connections in the same con- 
 dition of life, and this casual meeting with one Derwent might 
 possibly lead to the discovery of another. Men with fixed ideas 
 are prone to see the finger of fate in all things. So he strove to 
 unbend, not unsuccessfully, while the two young men strolled on, 
 talking of this thing and that, first of books, of which neither 
 knew anything ; then of the same thing in rekt on to ./Eneas 
 Fane ; then a little, but not much, of Sophy ; then of more mascu- 
 line matters, and at last drifting into horses and guns, where they 
 found a common ground. 
 
 " He isn't hah* a bad fellow after all," thought Ho -ace, after a 
 while. " And if he's almost Sophy's brother, I must cultivate 
 him ; but if I had been he, and Sophy had been Kosamond, I 
 shouldn't have had the heart to talk of such things as he can. 
 I don't half believe the fellow's as heart-broken as Sophy thinks, 
 after all. Here's the place where I'm told the Flora hangs out,'' 
 said he. " A queer enough shop, by Jove ! but then these pi ices 
 where they breed book-worms mostly are. Do you mind comii g)i i ?' 
 
 " Not a bit," said Oswald, who had not yet contrived to get in e 
 question that could bear upon so awkward a business as the dis- 
 covery whether a Derwent like this had ever had the most distant 
 cousin in Lowmoor. 
 
 Horace, who, as a collector, was studying the fine art of bargain- 
 ing, did not announce his errand at once, but chose to put the raw 
 lad, who kept the dark, out-of-the-way shop, or rather cross 
 between a shop and stall, off the scent by taking down volumes 
 at random from the shelves, chaffing a little meanwhile in a very 
 unbookworm like way. Oswald lounged farther into the premises, 
 also looking at volumes in the same random manner, until he nearly 
 reached a desk separated from the shop by a ground glass door. 
 And, while standing here, he distinctly heard these words spoken 
 
 9
 
 1 3 o A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 n a certain north-country accent which he had not beard since 
 Silver Moldwarp had been detected in forging Phcenici an dials nine 
 
 " I'm never mistook, Mister. Instinc's a sure guide. And if the 
 villain that nigh did for me in Fix-Knoll's named Lawrence Der- 
 weut, then Lawrence Derwent, with these very eyes I saw Tuesday 
 morning, as plain as I see - " 
 
 "Shop!" cried the lad; "Here's a gentleman 'quiring after 
 that there Floorer - " 
 
 It was Silver Moldwarp, with his ragged jacket exchanged for an 
 almost professional suit of hlack, and with gilt spectacles on nose, 
 who emerged from the den behind the glass door. Oswald rapidly 
 turned his back, and affected to be absorbed in the nearest shelves. 
 Hia companion had evidently heard nothing. But, though thus 
 quick-witted enough to conceal himself from the rascal who seemed 
 to know so much, Oswald's heart was literally standing still. 
 After nine long years of search to light upon this accident after 
 all! The finger of fate, indeed? Say rather fate's open hand. 
 " To him who waits, all things come." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Light, up the hall throw wide the door: 
 
 The house is whire, without, within 
 
 Each secret nook is swept and clean, 
 With greenest rushes on the floor. 
 
 The spirit of infinite unrest 
 
 Who till to-nipht possessed my gate 
 Hath flown before the hour's too late 
 To welcome in a better guest 
 
 * 
 Who needs to knock when doors are wide ? 
 Welcome ! For none would seek to pass 
 These portals save the pure. Alas 1 
 Tis He 'tis He, with seven beside 1 
 
 terrible discovery that his niece was dead, and that 
 Silver Moldwarp was an impostor had fallen with 
 crushing force upon ^Eneas Fane. Up to that moment 
 there was not a more perfectly happy elderly gentleman in exis 
 tence; he had no anxieties, no troubles, no cares. As a justice of 
 the po.Ace, and as otherwise the most important person in th 
 parish, he could feel himself of use in the world, and, since hia 
 actual duties amounted to nothing, he might lie down to sleep 
 every night of his life in the happy consciousness that all had 
 teen well done >Uid none omitted. But, above all, he possessed
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 131 
 
 the one, true, infallible secret of human happiness he had a 
 hobby. Not only so, but he possessed in Pix-Knoll a treasure 
 house of ever fresh antiquity to which Pompeii was a poor 
 modern invention, only fit to amuse the vulgar, and the British 
 Museum little more than a lumber room. Moreover, he rode his 
 hobby with brains with real brains, in their way. He was not 
 a mere collector, but had staked his mind and his soul upon the 
 belief that, from the historical fossils of Pix-Knoll he, a greater 
 Cuvier, was restoring, not merely the skeletons of birds and beasts, 
 but the very image of pre-historic Man accounting for the unac- 
 countable, and playing CEdipus to the arch Sphynx of the world. 
 Nor as yet had his theories been put upon printed paper, and so 
 exposed to that microscopic criticism of envious or jealous rivals 
 which robs great discoveries of so much of their bloom. As yet 
 he was in the happy state of being his own public, his own only 
 critic, and the judge of his own present merits and future fame. 
 Nor was he, like so many great collectors and other discoverers, 
 troubled by his woman-kind : while at the same time he had the 
 advantage over those no less many others who are without woman- 
 kind to trouble them. His nieces, united, did not amount to a 
 wife. A wife a thousand to one would have distracted his at- 
 tention, made havoc of his flints, dusted his shelves, c espisel his 
 hobby as stuff and nonsense, and sent Silver Moldwarp about his 
 business pretty quickly. All this she would have done had she 
 been a woman of tact : if she had been otherwise but that sup- 
 position is too cruel. Rosamond and Sophy simply gave the house 
 its home feeling, and kept the flints from turning too hard and 
 cold. If he loved the work of Silver Moldwarp's rascally fingers 
 li ke a poet and a lover, he would have given his second-best arrow- 
 head to save either of the children from any real and lasting sorrow. 
 Can many men say as much ? Can any whole-hearted collecting 
 man say more ? Nay, I will go further he would have given up 
 all hope of obtaining a real Phoenician sun-dial to save Rosa- 
 mond from dying. But when her horrible death was accompanied 
 at the same moment by clear and open proof that Silver Mold- 
 warp was an impostor, forger, cheat, that he himself, ^Eneas Fane, 
 had been a dupe and an idiot, and that Pix-Knoll, instead of being 
 a library of unwritten history, was merely a common chalk-pit 
 why then Rosamond's fate was only death, but Silver Moldwarp's 
 exposure was the end of the world. Life had come down with a 
 run, like a house of cards : and what is so hideous as to wake to 
 
 9 A
 
 I3 a A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 the consciousness of & fooled and wasted life when one ia no longe 
 young enough to begin again ? 
 
 For years afterwards Sophy could not bring herself to think of 
 the terrible time that followed ; for months, she, child as she w.s, 
 feared to lie down in her bed, for fear it should haunt her dreams. 
 No very deep feelings were needed to make it seem as if, with the 
 loss of Rosamond, life had been roughly wrenched in two; while 
 to Oswald and the few neighbours it seemed as if her uncle would 
 never recover from the blow. Incapable of imagining that ho was 
 half maddened, or rather half paralysed, with the murder of his 
 hobby-horse, and believing him to be somewhat dull and cold- 
 hearted, the apparent breaking of his heart over the loss of his 
 niece bewildered ev? a the parish doctor j he seemed unable to lift 
 up his head, and kept his room in what was taken for an excess 
 of grief, but was in reality an agony of shame. He did grieve 
 for Rosamond more, perhaps, than he himself knew. But the 
 greater passion must needs swallow up the less ; and, while the 
 flints of Pix-Knoll were the ruins of a man's pride and vanity, the 
 loss of Rosamond was just the \>ss of Rosamond, and nothing more. 
 It was but a miserable part of an infinitely more miserable 
 whole. 
 
 Oswald, helped by the Pitcairns and the Doctor, thought his 
 best for Sophy all that was left of Rosamond in the world. The 
 house whence her sister had been taken and where her uncle was 
 in this state of mind and body, was no place for a child to be left 
 in alone. .3ut even this grave consideration had to be delayed ; 
 for at the first suggestion of Sophy's going to stay for a little 
 while with the Pitcairns, Uncle ^Eneas broke into a fit of anger 
 the first in which he had ever been seen. He never seemed to 
 want the child about him, and yet he was manifestly unable to 
 bear the thought that he was to be deprived of the last real thing, 
 however trifling, that had been left him of his exploded collection. 
 So Sophy had to be left alone for the present : and then the anger 
 fit was succeeded by one of brooding in absolute silence and soli- 
 tude. " We must have another opinion," said the Doctor to 
 Oswald. " He'll be going melancholy mad : and I don't under- 
 stand it at all. Of course it's bad to lose a niece in that way, 
 poor young thing, or in any other but it's not a thing to go mad 
 for. Why the poor girl's lover, if she'd been old enough to have 
 one, couldn't have done more." But, at the end of many days, 
 Sophy herself was startled by the sudden appearance of Uncle
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 133 
 
 ^Eneas in the drawing-room; he had not made his appearance 
 once among his shelves and drawers since their contents had 
 been proved to he lies. 
 
 He did not say a word, or even seem to notice that she was 
 there though, indeed, that was Sophy's way, to be wherever 
 anything was happening, and to see without being seen. Some 
 change appeared to have come over the old gentleman, though 
 the child AVUS still too young to realise what it meant to him to 
 come among the treasures which had turned to dust and ruhbish 
 like Fairy gold. After a moment or two he went out of the 
 room, and presently returned, dragging in a large sack, which had 
 once held potatoes. Then he pulled out all his shelves and his 
 drawers, tossed and swept their contents into the sack, and 
 rang the bell for the housemaid. "Send Pritchard here," 
 said he. 
 
 The man came. " Pritchard," said Uncle ./Eneas, shortly, " put 
 this sack of rubbish into a wheelbarrow, wheel it to the cliff, and 
 turn it over into the sea. Sophy, my dear," he said, turning to 
 his niece, " of all the idiotic crazes that a man can take up, 
 archaeology is the most idiotic and the most crazy. It was in- 
 vented by rogues to cheat fools or else by fools to give rogues a 
 trade. What can it signify what men did before we were born ? 
 Not a flint not a flint, Sophy ! " 
 
 Sophy had now and then thought herself rather wicked for not 
 being able to respect the flints sufficiently, or to see their beauties. 
 But the loss of her sister, her heroine, almost her idol, had left 
 her little heart very sore, and the tears ran to her eyes when she 
 saw her uncle contemptuously discarding the household gods with 
 his own hands. And to be thrown over that cliff where Rosamond 
 had gone to be swallowed by the sea which Sophy felt she would 
 dread and hate for evermor'e ! 
 
 But Uncle ^Eneas had become wonderfully calm. It was cl< a: 
 that the wholesale destruction of his idol, now it was proved but 
 of common stone, did not cost him a single pang. " They want 
 you to go to the Pitcairns," said he. " There's no need for that 
 and I rather fancy they want to put me into a madhouse : but there's 
 no need for that either, my dear. I'm sane for the first time 
 i'.nce I picked up the first bit of trash on Pix-Knoll. But they'ie 
 all right in one thing Crossmarsh is no longer the place for me 
 and you. Bless my soul it would be like living in a grave : and I 
 can't meet the neighbours after what has happened: no, never
 
 134 -A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 again, I can't sit on the bench -while all the Court's saying, 
 ' That's -Fane of Crossnjarsh : the old fool that was cheated by 
 Silver Moldwarp, and didn't know an ancient Phoenician's work 
 from a modern English knave's.' We'll travel : you shall see the 
 world before you cry your eyes and your heart out, little girl. 
 We won't stay here. But we won't part. Now She's gone, and 
 They're gone there's not much but you and me left in the 
 world." 
 
 This was by no moans in his old vein of talk, such as that in which 
 he had received Oswald's first offer for the hand of poor Rosamond. 
 But it was gentler, and kinder, and not without sense, and it made 
 Sophy cry all the more. Nor could Oswald, when he heard of 
 his old friend's plan, find it in his heart to persuade him to remain 
 in a place where every gorse-bush and every flint-stone would 
 henceforth be a monument of misery and, in yEneas Fane's case, 
 of morbid shame. Oswald Ilargrave breathed no further wori 
 of his faith, a faith beyond the reach of reason, that Rosamond, 
 whom he loved, was still either to be discovered or avenged. He 
 saw what Sophy could not see that ^Eneas Fane was changed 
 and softened because broken down, and that a complete change of 
 place and life was in reality the wisest medicine that could be 
 prescribed. So, before long, Sophy had bidden Crossmarsh a half- 
 sorrowful, half-hopeful good-bye, and had crossed those limits of 
 the outer world which her dead sister's fancy had clothed with 
 such awe. 
 
 Well Sophy was, after all, but a child. Twelve or thirteen 
 years are not enough for a soul to take root in life, and to be killed 
 or even much huit, by the process of uprooting. She had loved 
 Rosamond with the love of sister for sister, of sister for brother, 
 of friend for friend, almost of daughter for mother, all in one : and 
 yet, at the end of a year's journeying to and fro, her need of Rosa- 
 mond in her life was over, and, by the end of another, memory itself 
 had grown dim. Rosamond would always occupy the shrine of 
 a saint in her heart, not to be thought of without tears: but then 
 Sophy's tears were as near her eyes as her laugh was near her lips, 
 and such shrines are never left open all day long. It was a 
 pleasant, rambling life they led, unspoiled by definite plans or by 
 more lessons than her eager curiosity inspired her to learn ; while 
 the languages of many lands came to her without any troublesome 
 sort of learning. Sometimes they would make a long stay of many 
 months at some place that pleased them : sometimes they would
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 135 
 
 make a long tour. By the time Sophy was eighteen she had he- 
 come, in many respects, a citizeness of the world, and yet, by luck, 
 or hy instinct, or hy quickness of wit, she, though an heiress and 
 something of a heauty, had kept her heart as well as her hand as 
 free as air. As for her uncle, though he had never recovered his 
 old manner, he was, to all appearance, as sane as if he had never 
 found Silver Moldwarp or lost poor half-forgotten Kosamond : and 
 he was falling into the position of his niece's very humhle and 
 obedient slave more and more day hy day. In short, Fate was 
 doing her utmost to spoil Sophy : and the only wonder was that 
 it took such a power as Fate so long to do. 
 
 But Fate had other views in store than the spoiling of a girL 
 Katuram expdlas Pitchfork Dame Nature out, yet hack she'li 
 crawl. 
 
 One day it was at Venice Uncle ^Eneas picked up from 
 some dealer or other a fragment of lace that would please Sophy : 
 or that he thought would please her. And so it did : hut the ac- 
 quisition pleased Uncle ^Eneas himself though he knew nothing- 
 whatever about such things still more. In a week he had read 
 a book about lace : in a month he had as many specimens as would 
 fill a large portmanteau : in another he had to increase the amount 
 of his luggage to meet this new demand. "I intend to make a 
 great collection of all the sorts of lace in the world," argued he, 
 " old and new. It ought to be done. There's no archaeology about 
 it no, no. It doesn't take one back more than three hundred 
 years a mere yesterday. And it is beautiful in itself, a::d the 
 production still goes on." Sophy thought nothing of the matter, 
 and, as she wrote to Oswald Ilargrave (then, for reasons best 
 known to himself, in the United States), it gave Uncle ./Eneas 
 a new interest in life, and revived his energies. They began to 
 travel with a purpose now ; and 
 
 Yes you may reform the criminal : you may cure the drunkard: 
 you may make the camel pass through the needle's eye such things 
 have been done; you may, perhaps, wean a smoker from his pipe 
 such a thing may once have been known : but a collector from his 
 hobby, not without murder. He who had made a museum of 
 used penny stamps and curiously marked oyster-shells in his child- 
 hood, and coins in his hot youth, and imaginary flint knives and 
 arrow-heads in his middle age, could not escape from the law of 
 his being. Why should he, indeed ? He had nothing else to do; 
 and nothing wearies so utterly as travel without an aim. To be
 
 136 A REAL 
 
 satisfied with doing nothing, one must sit still and then people 
 find it easy enough, considering how many such people there are. 
 
 In short, yEueus Fane was himself again. The only difference 
 in him now was that he had lost constancy there had to be some 
 effect from a disenchantment so great as to have unhinged his 
 mind. You may mend a hroken rope, but there will always be a knot 
 in it: and in ^Eneas Fane's case the knot was a readiness to change 
 from purpose to purpose, whenever some new temptation fell in 
 his way. Even as the most inconstant of lovers is he whose heart, 
 in spite of himself, remains true to the memory of a false first love, 
 ao did vEneas Fane, jilted by pre-historic archaeology, fly from 
 mistress to mistress from lace to porcelain, from porcelain to 
 butterflies. And then he no longer had the parish of Crossmarsh, 
 but all Europe, for his hunting ground ; and every city, old and 
 new, had a fascination of its own. lie became a very Don Juan 
 of vertu, and made the acquaintance of a hundred new Moldwarps, 
 both Jew and Gentile, though perhaps of few able so completely 
 to meet his wishes half way as the old. 
 
 And so by swift and sure descent, he fell, in due course, into 
 the hands spread open to receive him at the bottom of the slope 
 of the collector's Avernus into those of the Book Fiend. From 
 those claws alone there is no return. He possessed the two grand 
 qualifications for a veritable bibliomaniac ; he knew nothing of 
 books, and he never read them. There is no need to tell how the 
 taste began. No doubt it began with a thousand accidents, all 
 converging towards one point, as all the magnetic needles in the 
 world converge to a common pole. But it had an unlooked-for 
 effect upon the life of Sophy, who was strong enough to twist her 
 mere uncle round her finger, but not to turn an inch from his path 
 her uncle plus a craze. A man cannot carry about a library, even 
 though he travel with half the luggage of an American belle. He 
 and she had to settle down, so that the last new Fane collection 
 might fix itself and grow. And thus it had come to pass that 
 28, Richmond Place, became a great literary lumber room, into 
 which all the Moldwarps of that department of trade shot, with 
 much profit to themselves, what would otherwise have been their 
 bad bargains. 
 
 Of course all this cost money. But Sophy, who had never had 
 occasion to learn what money means, took it all for granted, and 
 never thought of asking considering that Uncle ^Eneas scarcely 
 had a penny of his own whence all the money came. It was
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 137 
 
 much more strange that, after her girlhood of travel and well-nigh 
 daily excitement, she could settle down, in fair content, to a dull 
 life of dust and mould, wherein the grand incidents were the per- 
 petual shifting of the contents of the shelves ; for Uncle ^Eneaa 
 arranged his library on system, and one new acquisition implied 
 universal change. The best of girls would have ample excuse for 
 fretting and beating her wings. Then why did not Sophy, who, 
 if a good enough girl as girls go, was still very far from being the 
 best of girls ? 
 Perhaps, as yet, not even Sophy herself could have told why. 
 
 " Oswald has been here," said she, when, both her visitors hav- 
 ing taken their leave, her uncle came in to see the result of her 
 work, witn a folio under his arm, and a duodecimo in his hand. 
 He was certainly older than nine years ago, and had breathed the 
 air of books long and deeply enough to have acquired the look and 
 bearing of a scholar. Perhaps about this there was a certain 
 amount of scarcely conscious affectation : but there was none in 
 the less upright carriage of the shoulders, and the half-weary 
 manner that he had never quite lost since his life had been snapped 
 in two. 
 
 "I know it he has been with me. And young what's his 
 name ? has been here, too." 
 
 " Yes, uncle," said Sophy, with scarcely the dream of a blush ; 
 " he came to say he had found that book, the Flora." 
 
 " Aye ? Bless my soul ! He's a good lad, and has the making 
 of a real man in him. Now Oswald, with all his merits, will 
 never be a real man I don't believe he knows one book from 
 another. Ah, the Flora ! when do you think it will be here ? " 
 
 " I think I'm almost sure Mr. Derwent is going to see about 
 it to-day." 
 
 " That young Derwent, Sophy, is as fine a fellow as ever lived 1 
 How have you been getting on ? " 
 
 " Famously thanks to Oswald ! He's had his coat off, working 
 like ten. See there, uncle nine shelves arranged." 
 
 Uncle ./Eneas looked critically from the nine shelves that were 
 arranged to the chaos remaining on the floor, from which the new 
 order had been growing so slowly, and with so much labour of 
 hands, patience, method, and brains. " Well/' said he, " then 
 there's not so much harm done, after all. I was afraid you'd have 
 done more."
 
 I 3 8 A HEAL QUEEX 
 
 " More P why I thought you'd have said we'd done wonders ! " 
 said she. 
 
 But then there's the Flora coming, you see ! So, you must see 
 for yourself, that arrangement we've been making will never do. 
 It must be revised and recast, entirely. The Flora must go on 
 that shelf: and it will have to be the point of a new section, 
 which will alter all the others." 
 
 " Oh, Uncle ! Do you mean all to-day's work is to be thrown 
 away, and all those shelves emptied, and 
 
 " Not thrown away, Sophy. This is literary work, you know : 
 you can't take too much trouble with that the more you take, the 
 better it's done. 111 spend this evening in drawing up a new 
 arrangement, ready for the Flora, and then to-morrow you and 
 Oswald can begin all over again. Just think, Sophy the Flora : 
 the only copy in the whole world ! " 
 
 There must indeed have been some unseen element in Sophy's 
 London life to make this sort of life endurable ; for this sort of 
 labour in vain, and this sort of talk, had become the story of every 
 day. Fortunately, for this afternoon at least, her work was over, 
 and, until the new arrangement was ripe for discussion, she was 
 free to take up a book it was not one of her uncle's in which she 
 was interested enough to think her own thoughts over; and they were 
 far from being unpleasant ones. Meanwhile, her uncle, catalogue 
 and pencil in hand, inspected the shelves, with his mind full of the 
 Flora. For the hundredth time since he had become a slave of the 
 Book Demon he felt that he had not lived in vain; his shoulders 
 straightened, his chest expanded, and he now and then paused to 
 stroke the back of some once supreme treasure as fondly as if 
 it were alive. 
 
 Sophy was sitting in the window : and exactly as in old times 
 it was just while she happened to be sitting there that a 
 stranger passed along the terrace whose appearance caught her at- 
 tention. Nine years of varied scenes had cultivated and de- 
 veloped, instead of rendering callous and dull, her natural genius 
 for seeing and hearing everything that went on around her ; and, 
 without the least effort, she had become perfectly familiar, by 
 sight, with every man, woman, child, dog, cat, and canary who 
 made up the population of Richmond Place, and even with the 
 friends and relations who came to see them. It was not the sign 
 of a large mind, but, in her case at least, it was no sign of an ill- 
 natured one. On the contrary, her faculty helped to keep her
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 139 
 
 heart fresh by turning an ordinary thoroi7ghfare into a per- 
 petual comedy, with its heroes and heroines, its mysteries and its 
 oddities ; and it may be that, after all, watching one's neighbours 
 overmuch is the better fault than heeding them teo little. Had 
 Rosamond been alive, she would no doubt have buried herself in 
 the back of the house with her fancies she would have seen no- 
 thing but hats and bonnets from the front windows, while Sophy 
 would have seen nothing from the back but the cats, so differently 
 are such common things as human eyes made. There was nothing 
 out of the way, of course, in the fact that a strange man, tall and 
 lean, was walking along the pavement of Richmond Place. Stran- 
 gers of all shapes and sizes are common in London, and Richmond 
 Place was open to them all. But Sophy's attention was caught by 
 the entirely individual manner in which he wore his hat well at the 
 back of his head, by a certain defiant and aggressive carriage of his 
 umbrella, and by his unfashionable length of stride. He pulled 
 up at the door of No. 30, and took a view of the door. Then he 
 turned back, and knocked at the door, the Fanes' own door, under 
 Sophy's very eyes. There must be something really strange about 
 this stranger, after all. 
 
 " Oh, uncle ! " she exclaimed unnecessarily enough " there's 
 somebody at the door ! " 
 
 " Oswald, I suppose ? I'm glad of it he can get down these 
 books again. Or Bless my soul, if it should be the Flora and 
 that young man ! " 
 
 " No, uncle it's nobody we know." 
 
 " ' Dr. Hermon Rackstraw ? ' " asked Uncle ^Eneas, reading 
 from the stranger's card that the maidservant contrived to carry 
 across the barricades. "Who's Doctor Hermon Rackstraw? 
 What does he want ? Did he say ? Wants to see me for a 
 minute on business ? Well I'm very busy, as you see ; but if it's 
 only for a minute, I suppose I must see him, though, in a library 
 like this, minutes are precious things. . No don't show him .into 
 the study ; show him in here. ... It doesn't do to show a 
 complete stranger into the study, Sophy, there are things 
 there I'd think twice before letting my own brother, if I 
 had one, see. Things I'd scarcely trust my own self alone 
 with, if they belonged to somebody else, and I had my great 
 coat on. ... Dr. Rackstraw ? " he asked, a little more doubt- 
 fully, as the visitor's long legs took the barricades, two at a time. 
 
 " I am Dr. Rackstraw," said the other. " I hope you will for-
 
 I4 o A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 give me, sir, for dispensing with forms and ceremonies, but, if 
 vou ever come to know me better, you will find that I am not a 
 ceremonious man." He caught sight of Sophy in her corner, and 
 bowed. " The truth is, I ventured to call in the hope that a great 
 master, like yourself, would pardon the intrusion of a humble, 
 cadly ignorant, but enthusiastic pilgrim. In short, I have heard 
 that the Fane Collection is rapidly getting to be one of the 
 wonders of the world : and, as a traveller, I hoped I might 
 be permitted to inspect it, as one of the lions of London. I trust 
 I was not wrong P " 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " exclaimed Uncle ^Enecs, holding out his 
 hand, and colouring like a girl with pleasure and pride, for this 
 was his first word of sympathy the first note blown for him upon 
 the trumpet of Fame. Indeed indeed, Dr. Rackstraw, I had no 
 idea Of course a bibliophile like yourself Not that my little 
 collection is much to boast of as yet, though I have one or two 
 things worth seeing Pray sit down, if you can find a chair ; we 
 are hard at work arranging you see. Sophy Dr. Rackstraw; Dr. 
 Rackstraw my niece, Miss Fane." 
 
 " I am deeply honoured, I'm sure," said Dr. Rackstraw, as 
 Sophy was brought formally into view. " Travellers are always 
 privileged, but to receive me at once so generously into a treasure- 
 house like this is something more than kind." 
 
 " You are a traveller ? " asked Uncle ./Eneas, struck by some- 
 thing in the general appearance and manner of his visitor. "Are 
 you an American ? 1 have met many Americans on the Continent, 
 and some of them are terrible rivals to us poor European 
 bibliophiles " 
 
 " No, sir I have been in America, but I am not an American . 
 and I have been in Australia, but am not an Australian : and 
 among the Cannibals, but am not a Cannibal. And I was born in 
 England but am not exactly an Englishman. I am a citizen of no 
 mean city that is to say, of the World. My position in London 
 is that of Agent-General for the Goblin Islands : so I am a man 
 of the future. But I am a man of the past too, when I get a whiff 
 of the calf-skin and leather sweeter to us book hunters, Miss 
 Fme, than eau de cologne? 
 
 " Do you mean that my modest collection has been heard of in 
 the Goblin Islands ? " asked Uncle ^Eneas. " That is very won- 
 derful to hear ! I can't guess how it happened I thought I was 
 quite unknown ! "
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 141 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Fane don't you remember what the poet says of 
 Glory : how she ' shuns those who chase her those who shun, 
 pursues ' ? I'm afraid that literature isn't very highly developed 
 in the Gohlin Islands as yet, but I'm doing what I can, 
 and it is one of my visions to found a library a real 
 library, such as you and I understand the word at Port 
 Rackstraw " 
 
 But Uncle JEneas did not want to talk about the Goblin Islands 
 of which until this moment he had never heard the name. I have 
 said he had blushed like a girl and well he might, for he was in 
 the position of a girl who, after waiting long for her first lover 
 receives at last her first offer when she was least of all dreaming 
 of such a thing. A sort of glory, not his own, appeared to radiate 
 from Dr. Hermon Rackstraw, and the whole air took the colours of 
 the rose. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Uncle ^Eneas, hastily. " But you want to see 
 my books such as they are. I'm sorry their present temporary 
 disarrangment on the floors and. landings makes the catalogue use- 
 less until I have made a new one, but I can get without trouble at 
 the best things. Ah here's something you'll enjoy; a first edition of 
 the complete poetical works of Anon, 1617, printed by let me see ; 
 ah, of course, Nemo. Or wait before you look at that, here's a 
 black letter copy of the famous treatise of the Dutch Jesuit, Van 
 Daft, on the sixth angle of the pentagon I bought it for no more 
 than two hundred florins at Frankfort, in the Judengasse. Three 
 leaves are missing, I'm sorry to say but then I don't believe there's 
 another copy of that book in existence that has lost three leaves 
 . . . . And here's a binding " 
 
 And so he mounted his hobby, and made it gallop. Dr. Rack- 
 straw, though he had given the impression of a talkative person, 
 said but little, and generally played the part of a wise man who, 
 for his own purposes, has to play an intelligent part in respect of 
 a subject which he does not understand. Uncle ^Eneas, once set 
 going, could have enjoyed going on till the end of time : and ye 
 presently, without any apparent check, the talk ceased to be quite 
 so one-sided, and to include not only the books themselves, but 
 the people and the incidents connected with their acquisition 
 It was the Flora, still uppermost in the heart of Uncle ^Eneas, 
 which touched this fuller key. " What's the name of the young 
 fellow who's taking so much trouble about it, Sophy ? asked he, 
 " Mr. Denvent, uncle, do you mean ? "
 
 , 42 A HEAL QUEEX. 
 
 Yea Derwent ; it's so difficult to fix names that one never 
 sees in a catalogue " 
 
 " Indeed," asked Dr. Rackstraw. " I know some Derwents very 
 well. I wonder if it's any of those." 
 
 u Not unlikely," said Uncle ^Eneas. u Under my guidance he's 
 getting to know something about books, too. It isn't everybody 
 who could go straight, by instinct, to a book like the Flora, as 
 he's done. It reminds me of another man, that - No : Bless my 
 soul what am I saying ? I mean he's a young man that my niece 
 "and I came across somewhere abroad. Where was it, Sophy ? " 
 
 It was when we were last in Switzerland," said she. 
 
 " Ah, yes Switzerland : the most uninteresting 1 country in the 
 world. You might stay there for a year, and not find a thing 
 worth looking at much less buying " 
 
 " I know Horace Derwent ; I know him well. A fine young 
 fellow, and with a most extraordinary love of books, as you say. 
 I've known the whole family for years. What a curious family 
 history theirs has been, to be sure ! " 
 
 " Indeed ? " asked Uncle ^Eneas, carelessly, while feeling that 
 his first disciple was beginning to slip from his clutch, he 
 searched for some other wonder. Sophy's ears began to prick; 
 
 00 she turned her eyes upon her book, and unostentatiously turned 
 over a page. What could Horace Derweut's family histoiy signify 
 to her ? 
 
 "Yes," said Dr. Rackstraw, while he also turned over the pages 
 of the last volume that had been given him to examine. " It 
 isn't every man in his position, you see, who has a convict for a 
 half-brother, or who comes into a fine estate without being his 
 father's eldest son. But of course you know all that 
 
 " No," said Uncle ./Eneas, " I never heard. Confound that 
 Mother Goose I must find it though " 
 
 " The old colonel's heir, you see son by a first marriage was 
 a wild lot ; a bad lot, I'm afraid I must say. He did his best to 
 get himself cut off with a shilling, and, when he succeeded, he 
 had no right to complain. He was the Lawrence Derwent, you 
 know, who was sentenced to penal servitude, or transportation 
 
 1 forget which for destroying the will that made his little 
 half-brother, Horace, the heir. It was a bad case he stole the 
 will from where it was kept in the very room where his father 
 lay dying, and destroyed it under his dying father's very eyes. 
 Luckily providentially, I should say there was plentyof proof
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 143 
 
 of what the contents of the will were; or else our friend Horace, 
 and his sisters, and his mother, would have been beggars, and 
 but, as I. said before, there's a providence about these things, and 
 justice was done. Perhaps you remember the trial, Mr. Fane ? 
 It made some noise in its time. . . . Yes this is a curious book 
 indeed ; quite unique, I should say." 
 
 Sophy, though she continued to turn over her own pages, felt 
 that the eyes of Dr. Backstraw were resting upon her in a 
 manner that made her feel fidgety and uncomfortable as if 
 either he could read in her the precise amount of the interest she 
 took in Horace Derwent, and was making her conscious of it also, 
 or as if he were venturing to admire her, on his own account, in a 
 manner to which her long course of foreign travel had, whiLj 
 giving her considerable experience of it, failed to accustom her. 
 She did not choose to let herself be driven from the room, but she 
 could not help feeling relieved when all her uncle's efforts to 
 detain him were exhausted, and the long legs, the long frock 
 coat, and the uncomfortable eyes were gone at last. 
 
 " I don't like Dr. Kackstraw ! " said she, closing her book, and 
 tossing it aside. " Do you ? " 
 
 " Not like him ? Bless my soul, child ! "Why he's the most 
 intellectual man I ever met. He really does understand books ; 
 he doesn't only talk about them 
 
 " He certainly did not say much about books," said Sophy. 
 
 " Of course not. He came to learn, and very naturally listened 
 to me. But what he did say was to the purpose. I only hope 
 he'll come again. It has always been one of my great sorrows, 
 Sophy of course it isn't your fault that I shall leave nobody 
 behind me to take a properly intelligent interest in my work, and 
 to carry it on when I am gone. I'm not collecting for the nation, 
 you know, to have the collection of a life-time swamped and 
 scattered. You heard, didn't you, what Dr. Backstraw said of 
 the Fane Collection even so far as it has gone? I've t-en 
 waiting to meet with some such man all my life. Who knows 
 but this Dr. Backstraw with his learning, his vast experience, 
 his evident ability, and his modesty may be the very man ? " 
 
 Sophy, until this hour, would have said that she knew her 
 uncle, her constant companion of years, better than she knew 
 herself. But now she felt as if all her experience had been 
 thrown away. Never till now had his secret vanity been touched 
 and exposed, and the hunger for sympathy in his pursuits, which
 
 I44 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 no human being had ever dreamed of giving him, received the 
 promise of being satisfied. One who had seen less of him than 
 she might have perceived symptoms of something far more 
 dangerous than mere hobby-riding in the change which all these. 
 years had wrought in the Squire of Crossmarsh; a hundred 
 things would have struck comparative strangers as strange which 
 appeared perfectly natural to her, who had only really known 
 him (or thought so) since Silver Moldwarp's time. It needed 
 some such incident as this afternoon's visit to make her realise 
 that the eccentricities of Uncle yEneas were something deeper 
 than an idle elderiy gentleman's way of killing time. 
 
 " No," said she, "I do not like Dr. Rackstraw. And why did 
 he make such a point of telling us that scandal about the 
 Derwents. What was it to us, or to him ? " 
 
 " Scandal the Derwents ? Why you must have been asleep 
 over our book-talk, my dear, and dreaming ! I never heard a 
 word of anything of the kind. Well I suppose it is natural 
 for a child like you to find men's talk dull Dr. Rackstraw's or 
 young Derwent's or mine! Never mind, my dear; Nature 
 knew what she was about when she made men and women with 
 different minds. There never was yet a book huntress. I know 
 what I'm about and you can't possibly dislike Dr. Rackstraw, 
 when I tell you that I have never met a man who gave me such a 
 complete sense of intellectual power." 
 
 Sophy had been unable to see any signs of the intellect ; but 
 she had to confess to herself that the man's very impudence had 
 served as evidence of some sort of power. He had not said a 
 single word worth the saying, and she was convinced in her heart 
 that he cared as little about old books as he knew of them, and 
 that he knew about them rather less than nothing so why had 
 he called P Surely, not merely to rake up for the benefit of 
 strangers old scandals about their friends. She wished he had 
 never called, and yet could not have given the ghost of a reason 
 why.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 145 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 I come from where night falls clearer 
 
 Than your morning sun can rise 
 From an earth that to heaven draws nearer 
 
 Than your vision of paradise : 
 
 For the things that your dreamers dream, we behold them with open eyes. 
 From the heart of an ancient garden 
 
 Girt fast with four walls of peace, 
 Where he who is set for warden 
 
 From his vigil shall never cease 
 Nor quench the flame of his sword till the trumpet shall sound Release. 
 
 " T7GU neecl not trouble yourself about the Fanes," said Dr. 
 Rackstraw to Mrs. Derwent. "I have done your 
 bidding, you see, and have surveyed the whole land. 
 The old gentleman is the most hopeless old idiot to be found 
 out of an asykim. I enquired about him of a man in the trade 
 with whom I have some acquaintance and who would be likely to 
 know: and he told me what I afterwards saw for myself that 
 the poor old fellow is on the high road to Bedlam, or to the 
 workhouse, or both together. He'll give the most enormous 
 prices for any trash in the shape of a book that nobody else 
 would give a straw for, and fancies he's gathering a library that's 
 to be the wonder of the world. That's his form of monomania, 
 it seems. He got acquainted with Mr. Horace abroad as for 
 leading him into any extravagant or disreputable courses, the 
 p.otion is absurd. He is simply a ridiculous old idiot that's all." 
 
 " Not quite all," said Mrs. Derwent. " Thank you very much 
 for your trouble, but it wasn't the father I wanted to hear about 
 it was the girl. As if I thought for a moment that Horace 
 was likely to get entangled with a bookworm ! London isn't the 
 Goblin Islands, you know " 
 
 " And girls have a great deal to do with what happens in 
 London? True, dear friend and in the Goblin Islands also. 
 Still, in this case, I don't know we need trouble ourselves about 
 Miss Sophia Fane. I saw her. She's a poor, washed out little 
 thing, without a good feature or a word to say for herself one 
 goose, who wouldn't be able to say ' Bo ' to another 
 
 " Which means, that she is sly. But are they well off, should 
 you sayp What Fanes are they? Do they live in good style 
 or how ? Who knows them whom do they know ? Really 
 you have told me nothing at all. And surely you see the import- 
 ance Horace is so young, and so much depends on his making no 
 mistake that will hang about him all his days." 
 
 10
 
 ! 4 6 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 " Oh as to that my bookselling friend knows all about them; 
 at least all there's any need to know. They're Fanes of some- 
 where County people, who've been abroad for some years. 
 They know nobody in particular, and nobody in particular knows 
 them. Their house is good enough, but they evidently have no 
 establishment, and it's all a litter of books you tumble over 
 them even on the stairs." 
 
 " Thank you," said Mrs. Derwent. " I think we women see 
 things the quickest, after all. County people who live abroad for 
 years, and then hide themselves away in town without establish- 
 ment or friends I think we know what that means ; and indeed 
 I guessed as much all along. Of course I must let. that card go, 
 but I shall know where I am." 
 
 " And that other card to Senhora Miranda, I mean ? " 
 
 " To the Queen of ? Yes : it's gone." 
 
 "I thank you, dear Mrs. Derwent. I assure you that she'll 
 be the lioness of the season a Real Queen. I must see about 
 meeting and preparing for her; but I sha'n't be absent many 
 days." 
 
 Lest there should be any <aispicion of mystery attaching to 
 the proceedings of Dr. Hermon Rackstraw in relation to Horace 
 Derwent's suspected love affair, let it be understood at once that 
 he had, simply in obedience to the desire of that careful mother, 
 Mrs. Derwent, betaken himself to the authority from whom he 
 was likely to learn most of the manners and customs of any 
 particular connoisseur in Mr. Fane's reputed line an elderly 
 dealer in curiosities of all kinds, literary and otherwise, who 
 traded within a narrow, but profitable connection under the name 
 of Crake & Co. " Fane ? what old Fane of Crossmarsh ? I should 
 think I did, too ! " was the answer of the representative of the 
 firm. " A regular old ass but as rich as a mine, if that's what 
 you want to know. I never see him for reasons ; and if he knew 
 my name was Moldwarp, I should lose my best customer ! like I 
 once lost him before, in another line, before I turned respectable. 
 I was in his service what we call professional flinting when 
 young Lawrence Derwent got out o' Lowmoor; and then dis- 
 agreeables happened that made me and him not part the best o* 
 friends. But somehow I'd an instinc' that him and me was made 
 for one another why, Doctor, that old addle-pate could no more 
 live without a Moldwarp round than he can see through a mill- 
 ion'. Either me or Miss Sophy will be well off when he goes.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 147 
 
 But, Doctor, begging your pardon, what do you want of old Fane ? 
 That old ignoramus is a perquisite of my own." 
 
 " I don't want to meddle with you I'm glad to hear you've got 
 hold of a good thing. I wanted to know who he was, that's all. 
 So your old gentleman's well off eh ? Responsible in business, 
 and all that kind of thing ? " 
 
 " I wish I was half as 'sponsible that's all. Why, he owns half 
 Crossmarsh and he'll spend more on a maggot than most men 
 will on their living. Why, if he was to get sick of books, I'd only 
 have to change the name of my firm, and make him rise to auto- 
 scraps old boots anything old in art or nature, so long as it was 
 new. But he'll be no good to you, Mister none in the world. 
 Pie aren't your sort of fool." 
 
 " All right, Moldwarp. I'm glad you've got such a good con- 
 nection. Good-day." 
 
 " Oh, no I don't mind telling you whatever you please. If I 
 found a gold mine under the water-butt in my back-yard and 
 I've found more unlikely things than that I'd tell you. If you're 
 thinking of working on old Fane, I've no call to be afraid. I saw 
 a more unlikely thing, only Tuesday. If I was to tell you how I've 
 seen somebody back in England, and in London for all that but 
 there's no need, seeing how you mean to leave my customers alone." 
 
 " What ! " cried Hermon Rackstraw, with a start ; " stuff and 
 nonsense, man, He'll no more dare show his face this side of the 
 Atlantic, if he's alive, than, if he's dead, he'd show it this side the 
 grave. You've made a mistake, that's all." 
 
 " I'm never mistook, Mister. Instinc's a sure guide. And if the 
 villain that nigh did for me in Pix-Knoll's named Lawrence Der- 
 went, with these very eyes I saw Tuesday morning as plain as I 
 see " 
 
 But at this moment the bookseller was summoned to the shop, 
 and Dr. Rackstraw, who knew the premises, chose to leave by way 
 of a side door before his friend became again disengaged. Indeed 
 he fancied he caught the voice of Mrs. Derwent's son, and there 
 was no reason why he should give himself the trouble of explain- 
 ing how he also came to be found in a shop that could beve no 
 possible attractions for one who looked upon all relics of a le- 
 nighted past with a civilised scorn. If the announcement of the 
 re-appearance hi London of Lawrence Derwent the convict had 
 been intended as a threat of some kind from the book broker to 
 the Agent-General, it must have miscarried, for there was no 
 
 XO A
 
 148 A REAL QUEt* 
 
 Additional cloud upon the brow of the latter wfcen he arrived in 
 Richmond Place. After all, a man who is immersed in the affairs 
 of a territory like the Goblin Islands can hardly condescend to 
 trouble himself over long about private affairs especially when 
 they are merely those of his friends. 
 
 But paullb majora canemus what were the affairs of the Goblin 
 Islands theuiselves, and of all the Goblin Islanders, and all the 
 trade of that rising emporium, Port Rackstraw, to the first public 
 proof, for that season, that the Derwents of Wilton Square were 
 at home ? 
 
 Nothing of any note had happened meanwhile, so far as Mrs. 
 Derwent was aware. The girls had gone on in their own pleasant 
 way ; Horace had developed no new signs of bibliomania : Dr. 
 Rackstraw had been prevented by certain country engagements 
 from returning direct from Southampton, and had only written to 
 say that Senhora Miranda was to arrive, after all, by a later ship 
 than the Polynesia, and could not be in town till a very few days 
 before her introduction to the manners and customs of a civilised 
 land. Mrs. Derwent still had her anxieties pleasant ones, so far 
 as they referred to the reception of barbarian royalty ; less pleasant 
 so far as regarded Horace, of whose safety from the toils of the 
 daughter of an obviously decayed house Dr. Rackstraw's report 
 had failed to reassure her men are so blind about girls, and plain 
 girls are always the most dangerous of all. However, that card 
 had gone, and Miss Fane would make a point of coming, and then 
 the mother would see with her own eyes. 
 
 Kate had not exaggerated when she declared her family to be 
 like the hare in the matter of many friends. At a fairly early 
 hour of the evening the rooms of reception were nearly as full of 
 flesh and blood as was ./Eneas Fane's drawing-room of books, and 
 talk ran high and loud. Each member of the family had a set, 
 more or less independent of the others ; but not opposed : and 
 about Mrs. Derwent's especial circle was a quality of lionism which 
 in some sort gave these crushes an air of distinction. She took 
 pride in her numbers ; but not in mere numbers she liked to be 
 a social prism dealing only in coloured rays. 
 
 But to Horace Derwent, all the chattering cro^vd was but a 
 legion of ghosts, and its talk but an echo of Babel. He was 
 looking in vain for the guest who would bring the evening into life 
 as a single digit placed before a row of ciphers gives them at once
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 149 
 
 force and meaning. And lie was full of faith as well as of hope 
 and love, for he believed, as firmly as in his own existence, that 
 his mother would exclaim, so soon as she set eyes on Sophy Fane, 
 " There, of all women, is the wife for my boy." What man, nay, 
 what woman, could fail to see all the charms and all the virtues 
 incarnate in Sophy Fane ? This evening was to be the turnin^ 
 point in his life, when her foot would first cross the threshold of 
 her future home. He was desperately hard hit no doubt of that : 
 and he had gone down before Sophy's finger tips as cleanly as if 
 he had not been in love those three-and-thirty times before and 
 perhaps oftener, for sisters do not know everything. But why did 
 she not come ? Life is too short to waste minutes in which seem 
 like hours. Besides, he had hoped that she would be there before 
 the crowd, so that she might be introduced to his mother with 
 some sort of special distinction as became the future lady of Long- 
 wood on first coming to her own. It was a new mood for a young 
 man who had cultivated easy indifference as one of the fine arts, 
 and who had been inclined to jest at scars because he had found 
 wounds mere trifles, easier to heal even than to deal. 
 
 At last he caught sight, at the head of the stairs, if not of the 
 goddess herself, yet an earthly sign of her. 
 
 " Ah, Hargrave ! I'm glad you've managed to find your way 
 here at last," he said, but with his eyes further down the stairs. 
 " I suppose you're with the Fanes ? I didn't think, though, that 
 you foreigners would have outdone us in late hours I hoped you'd 
 have been here before the crowd, so that I might have introduced 
 you to my people quietly. There's my mother only six yards off, 
 if we could only get at her." 
 
 " Isn't Miss Fane here ? " asked Oswald, looking round. " Her 
 uncle isn't coming, of course ; but I thought she'd have been here 
 an hour ago. I couldn't bring her I had business that I couldn't 
 leave. 1 suppose getting out has been hard work for her, poor 
 girl." 
 
 " You don't think there can be anything wrong ? " 
 
 " Wrong ? No. What should there be wrong ? " asked Oswald, 
 rather wondering at such signs of needless anxiety on the part of 
 his new friend or rather acquaintance, for Oswald never made 
 friends. It was Horace Derwent's name, not Horace Derwent 
 himself, that had led him to cultivate a certain amount of com- 
 radeship with the only visitor besides himself who ever came 
 to the Fanes. An acquaintance with Horace was not much
 
 i S o A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 of a help towards a meeting with Lawrence; but combined 
 with the hint he had overheard from an audible though invisible 
 Moldwarp, it really seemed as if fortune or providence were 
 gradually leading him to the point which he only lived to attain 
 the heart of the mystery of Rosamond, were she dead or 
 living. Unhappily for him, he had been rich enough to devote his 
 life to the pursuit of a phantom : and he had followed it with all 
 the stubborn energy that, had she lived, would have won her. 
 The quarry he was chasing was no phantom, to his eyes. lie 
 could not out-grow the faith that, after all, she to whom he had 
 given his heart for ever could die. 
 
 As Horace Derwent had told him, he was within a very few 
 paces of the step-mother of the man for whom he was still search- 
 ing the world. Under the best of conditions an immediate intro- 
 duction was out of the question ; for at that moment the lady was 
 saying : 
 
 " Yes, Lady Deane it is perfectly true. She is a Real Queen 
 but she is supposed to be incognita for the present ; and indeed 
 her real name is not to be pronounced by civilised tongues. This 
 will be her first appearance in civilised society, I expect she will 
 feel a little surprised I suppose she will have an interpreter, or I 
 eha'n't exactly know what to do. However, Dr. Rackstraw will be 
 here." 
 
 " Surprised ? " answered Lady Deane a plain little old lady, 
 with a brusque manner and bright eyes. " Yes the manners of 
 us natives must strike an intelligent traveller as curious indeed. 
 For she is intelligent of course travellers always are ; and igno- 
 rance of a language is an advantage, because it doesn't disturb the 
 impressions we came out with and intend to carry home again. 
 But, by the way, what on earth made you send a card to poor 
 Dash?" 
 
 " Poor Dash ? Poor Dash f Why what have we done ? " 
 
 "Sent an invitation to my Skye terrier, my dear the little 
 creature would have come, of course, but she is ailing, and I per- 
 suaded her to stay at home. Of course, though, it was very kind 
 so I've taken the liberty of bringing with me another young 
 friend, neither so clever, nor so good, nor so amusing, but still 
 worth knowing well enough to speak to. Mr. Richard Harding 
 Mrs. Derwent: and Miss Anne Derwent too. Mr Harding is 
 another traveller of the usual intelligent kind. Poor Dash ! She 
 has charged me with all manner of regrets and regards."
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 151 
 
 "It is a great pleasure for me to be here, Mrs. Derwent," said 
 Mr. Richard Harding, in slow, languid, carefully modulated mono- 
 tone, " and a great pride, besides. I have been so long abroad 
 that I assure you the sight of a gathering like this has become 
 almost as strange to me as it will bo to your Queen. The only 
 difference is, that thanks to Lady Deane and you, I feel like com- 
 ing home." 
 
 There was something about Richard Harding that attracted 
 Oswald's attention, trained for so many years to observe all things 
 and all men. He was in the prime of middle age, tall and well 
 built, and with something of the exaggeratedly easy air which 
 some soldiers affect in order to hide the results of drill and pipe- 
 clay. His features were good and regular, the forehead being 
 displayed the more by the desertion of the hair's advanced guard 
 desertion, however, more than balanced by the fulness of a 
 brown moustache that completely covered the mouth, and of a 
 beard that reached half way down the breast. One cheek was 
 disfigured by a long scar, which somehow seemed to emphasise 
 a certain peculiar glow in the eyes. The expression of the face 
 was curiously complicated one instinctively felt that its non- 
 chalance, to correspond with its owner's carriage, covered sullen- 
 ness, and that this in its turn covered passion. But he knew how 
 to smite with grace as well as self-possession and dignity. Oswald 
 was no theoretical physiognomist, but constant observation had 
 sharpened his first impressions, and he felt that this Richard Hard- 
 ing might as an enemy prove dangerous, as a friend more dangerous 
 still, as a lover most dangerous of all. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Derwent, confused and abashed by th<3 discovery that 
 a Skye terrier had somehow trotted into her visiting list, could 
 only say that she was glad to see him, and turn towards some 
 new comers, who, fortunately for her, just then happened to enter. 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Pitcairn dear Mrs. Pitcairn ! How fortunate ! I 
 am every moment expecting who should you imagine ? A Queen 
 from the South Seas. I must introduce Mr. Pitcairn to be? the 
 very first of all perhaps he will convert her on the spot, who 
 knows ? " 
 
 "Mr. Derwent Mr. Harding," said Lady Deane, looking through 
 Oswald, as if to say, What lion are you ? What is your particular 
 roar? 
 
 Horace Derwent, however, heard merely his own name ; for hia 
 impatience was beginning to grow desperate, and he scarcely cared
 
 I 5 2 A HEAL QUELS. 
 
 whether he was not behaving like a boor. He had looked for so 
 much from this evening, and now the evening was more than half 
 spent. Could anything have happened beyond the unpunctuality 
 of a dressmaker, or a cabman's loss of his way ? The knocker had 
 been at rest for a good half hour, and everybody had fallen into 
 his or her circle of affinity nay, there were even noticeable signals 
 of departing. He looked at Oswald, and could not comprehend 
 how the latter could be content to look round the room instead of 
 persistently in the direction of the front door. 
 
 Mr. Richard Harding, like Oswald, let himself fall back into the 
 position of a looker on. Oswald took his position in silence ; but 
 his fellow stranger did not seem disposed to be alone in a crowd. 
 
 " Warm, isn't it ? " he asked Oswald. " It's so long since I've 
 seen more than a score of people in one room that it seems to me 
 as if Mrs. Derwent had gathered together the population of the 
 globe. So this is what you call being at home ? " 
 
 " I suppose so," said Oswald. " I have certainly been where 
 this would represent all the men and women within a hundred 
 mile circle." 
 
 " More like two hundred, as my experience goes ! were you ever 
 in Nevada ? " 
 
 " I had business in Nevada," said Oswald, " some years ago." 
 
 " The deuce you had ! Fancy my tumbling over a man who 
 knows Nevada! But you'd find changes, even there, if you haven't 
 been so far west for years. "What was your business ? Silver, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 Oswald would never have suspected Mr. Harding of being from 
 America, and much less from the wild west. His accent was 
 peculiar and artificial, but certainly not in the least American, and 
 his manner, though rather off-hand and perfectly unembarrassed, 
 was that of a man who belonged to the precise circle in which he 
 declared himself to be so complete a stranger. " No," said Oswald, 
 " It wasn't on business at least of that kind. Are you in Europe 
 for the first time?" 
 
 " Only for the second. I suppose you know the Derwente well ? 
 Young Derwent is a good fellow, I hear from my friends the 
 Deanes. I'm sorry you're not interested in silver, for it's the only 
 thing I know how to talk about I believe it's mostly to get 
 silver out of my blood that I'm over here. Holloa what's up 
 now ? " 
 
 Horace Derwent's heart beat quickly in answer to a tremendous
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 153 
 
 peal of the knocker. It was not the sort of flourish that wa 
 likely to announce the arrival of Sophy, but then she was not an- 
 Bwerable for what her cabman might consider due to the dignity 
 of his fare, and Horace, driven to despair of Sophy's coming 
 leaped at any last hope that the very latest of knocks might throve 
 him. Some instinct, however, seemed to draw a closer crus} 
 round his mother, who brought herself full in front of the dooi 
 Oswald and his new acquaintance from Nevada, standing when, 
 they had a full view of the stairs, saw a tall, cleanly shaven gentk 
 man ascending with a lady upon his arm. 
 
 " Senhora Miranda ! " announced the footman, who seemed t 
 have been stationed in exactly the right place, and in exactly the 
 right time, to do this particular guest the most impressive honour. 
 
 Mrs. Derwent curtseyed deeply. And then all knew that they 
 were in the presence of a Queen no doubt a heathen, perhaps a 
 cannibal, but still a Heal Queen. 
 
 Ngahoung Qhlawu, Queen of Apahu, considerably surprised the 
 company. She was not black. She was not ugly. She was not 
 dressed so as to make anybody blush or stare. On the contrary 
 she was not so dark as many an English brunette; she was 
 dressed like a duchess ; and she was simply the most beautiful 
 woman in the room. 
 
 She was of a woman's middle height, rather under than over 
 that is to say, for an islander of the far South, remarkably tall. 
 Had she been English, one would have set her down at about five- 
 and-twenty years old a reckoning which, considering that she came 
 from latitudes where people age fast, would argue her to be very 
 much younger. Her gure was exquisitely perfect, and her taste 
 in dress was a miracle. Strange to say, her beautiful, large, soft, 
 kind eyes were not brown, but the darkest of grey, and there was 
 a tinge of brightness in her crown of brown curls that is seldom 
 given by a southern sun. Her features were worthy of her form 
 of the purest and most regular type, but a little grave and sad d 
 look, while her mouth had to make up for its graciousness ant 
 royal beauty for being a little larger than completeness of harmony 
 is supposed to require. Not only was she a Queen, but she looked 
 the very ideal of a Queen in grace and dignity of bearing, as well 
 as in face and form. She needed no golden crown ; and, moreover 
 she looked a Queen in a yet higher sense in the sense of one wh? 
 would rule her people by the love that casteth out fear.
 
 154 <* REAL QUEEN. 
 
 " Great heaven ! What a lovely creature ! " exclaimed the man 
 from Nevada, to himself, but more than half aloud nor was there 
 any harm in that, seeing that he said it in English, and not in the 
 unknown language of Apahu. "Why, she is Venus straight 
 from the waves, or the stars ! " 
 
 Strange women were nothing to Oswald ; but had not his eyes 
 said amen, he would have been more or less than mortal inau. 
 Nay, the sight of this beautiful savage from an undiscovered 
 country gave him that indescribable feeling suggested by the 
 perfume of certain flowers that he had stood as he was standing 
 now, in the presence of this Senhora Miranda, in some other life 
 or some other dream. Indeed for the moment he scarcely knew 
 whether he was waking or sleeping, so strongly did this caprice 
 lay hold of him. But when in his turn he tried to lay hold of it, 
 and to grasp what it could mean, it was gone. 
 
 " And oh ! what jewels ! " breathed an admiring sigh at his 
 elbow. 
 
 And truly her rubies were of themselves glorious enough to 
 make their wearer the lode-star of all eyes. She wore them 
 in her ears, round her neck, and on her bosom, the finest being 
 fine enough for Sultans to fight for. Only their setting was, 
 to say the best of it, barbaric, and they were one and all cut 
 so roughly and set so unskilfully as to lose full half their splen- 
 dour though quite enough remained to show what they really 
 were. What with the rubies, and the beauty that outshone them, 
 people quite forgot to be disappointed that she was so utterly 
 unlike any pre-conceived ideas of a royal cannibal. They had 
 looked for the royalty of burlesque they were met by the royalty 
 of nature. What sort of an island could be Apahu, to produce 
 such women and such gems P 
 
 "Madame," said Dr. Rackstraw, with his long and awkward 
 bow, " permit me the honour of presenting to you my friend 
 Mrs. Derwent Miss Derwent Miss Anne Derwent." 
 
 " The honour is mine and the pleasure too," said Senhora 
 Miranda, in a voice so peculiarly sweet and gentle that everybody 
 forgot to notice, for full half a minute, that she had spoken, not 
 in the language of Apahu in English as pure as from foreign lips 
 it had any need to be. True, it was foreign English, of a kind 
 English, so to speak, softened, mellowed, and sweetened by southern 
 air. Moreover, her words stood clearly apart from one another, 
 with the slightest of pauses between each, and each vowel and
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 155 
 
 consonant received its full value. That is to say, she spoke better 
 than well. But that did not make it the less strange that a lady 
 fresh from an undiscovered island should speak any language 
 but her own. 
 
 " The Senhora speaks English like a native ! " caid Doctor 
 Rackstraw, with enthusiasm; in answer to Mrs. Derwent's look of 
 bewilderment. " She learnt it all at sea ! " 
 
 " I am so glad, your ma madam," said Mrs. Derwent ; " it will 
 make your visit to us so much more interesting! May I ask 
 what you think of England ? Are you going to make a long 
 stay ? Anything I and my children can do to make it pleasant, 
 or profitable, we shall be only too proud and happy to do, I am 
 sure." 
 
 " You are very, very kind," said Her Majesty. " Indeed, I 
 cannot yet tell you what I think of England I have seen so 
 little of it yet and it is all so different from my own country. 
 It makes me a little maabe dazzled confused. Your houses 
 are so close together : we have nothing like what you call a town, 
 and what Dr. Eackstraw tells me of your ways I do not yet 
 comprehend." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mrs. Pitcairn, who was in the inner circle of this 
 informal levee, " but you will learn and then you will have so 
 much to teach your people on your return : so much indeed." 
 
 The Queen smiled radiantly. " You are a great people," she 
 said ; " mine are very small ; I doubt if what you find good, would 
 be good for them. For example, they would not like to live close 
 together ; and they would never learn to buy and sell, which 
 Dr. Eackstraw tells me makes you what you are." 
 
 "You don't buy you don't sell!" exclaimed Lady Deane. 
 " Then what is the use of money ? " 
 
 " We have no money," said Senhora Miranda. " You see how 
 different we are." 
 
 " You proceed upon the primaeval system of barter ?" asked one 
 of Mrs. Derwent's political friends. " That is interesting 
 
 " No," answered sue, " we give one another whatever is wanted, 
 unless we can make it for ourselves. If I want something I have 
 not got, I go to somebody who has, and take it ; if nobody has 
 it, I go to somebody who can make it, and he makes it for me." 
 
 "Then do you mean to say, Senhora," asked the man from 
 Nevada, " that if I take a fancy to your ruby necklace, and ask 
 you for it, you would take it off and give it me, without more ado P"
 
 156 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 " Not at all ! If anybody has what he wants to keep, he has it 
 marked by the Idbaah the priest and he must not give it till he 
 has got the mark taken off again in the same way. Nobodj 
 would take it, then. I must not give my necklace, even if I v/ill." 
 
 " Most interesting ! " said the guest, with the sociological turn. 
 " It is the principle of the Taboo. But if somebody broke the 
 custom, what then ? " 
 
 " My people never break customs," said Senhora Miranda, with 
 a deep, sad sigh. "Never. It has never been done it has never 
 come into their minds to do. I understand what you mean ; but 
 the very thought of it fills me with fear. Please do not speak of 
 such a thing again." 
 
 " It would entail a religious penalty ? " asked Mr. Pitcairn. " I 
 have been in the Pacific myself, and worked there. No doubt the 
 breach of the Taboo you speak of would be followed by divine 
 vengeance in this or another world." 
 
 " I don't know," said she, turning strangely red and pale. 
 u Nobody knows not even the Idbash-fonk, the great priest of 
 all. Nobody would do it nobody has done it nobody ever will 
 do it. That is all ; please speak of something else. We never 
 speak of such a dreadful thing os doing wrong ; I have learned 
 how but not one of my people would know what you mean." 
 
 " By Jupiter ! " said the man of Nevada, aside to Oswald, 
 " but Her Majesty will lead a life of misery, if she stays another 
 week on this unsqueamish planet I told you she must have come 
 straight from the stars. My belief is that her kingdom is some- 
 where in the milky way the milk and watery way. But how 
 lovely she is, to be sure ! And it's queer she gives me the 
 notion that I've seen her before, aye, and heard her voice before, 
 impossible though that must be. I wonder if the poets are right, 
 when they say that we come into this world innocent from some 
 other, and that our evil thoughts are but the gradual decaying of 
 our memory of the world where our souls, not our brains and 
 bodies, were born and preciously bad our memories mostly are ! " 
 
 Oswald could not help starting at hearing hLs own vague, 
 mystical impression put into words, and by so unlikely a man. 
 Was it thus that everybody was being affected by this most 
 unaccountable woman in the same unaccountable way ? Had he 
 been less accustomed to observe with a purpose, he might have 
 been able to guess at a wonderful solution of the mystery. But 
 when reason knocks at the door, truth is apt to fly out of the
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 157 
 
 window, The subtle impression of a pre-existent contact with 
 the quern of a country unknown to geographers had died out 
 of him even before the man from Nevada had put it into words ; 
 and the words, so far from reviving it, by their very definiteness 
 had given it a final death-blow. Still, the mere coincidence 
 of the impression was strange. 
 
 " No," answered he, " our memories are strong enough " 
 as none had better cause to say than he. " But we can't remem 
 ber what has never been." 
 
 " I see you're a practical man ; so am I. And, as a practical 
 man, I must get to know something more of this cannibal Venus, 
 before she falls into the hands of the book-makers I don't mean 
 the betting men : I mean the worse kind. For she's doomed. In 
 a week there will be her photograph all down Regent Street 
 in a month there'll be an exhaustive book out on her island : and 
 no sooner than that, she'll have become a common, vulgar, beef- 
 eating, brandy-drinking lioness she r s been corrupted already 
 by her dressmaker. Do you know old Rackstraw ? " 
 
 " No, who is old Rackstraw ? " 
 
 " That fellow with her her guide, philosopher, and friend. A 
 very nice old gentleman indeed, whose life's devoted to the great 
 cause of progress and civilisation all over the world. Mark my 
 words he'll never rest till he's established a newspaper and a 
 model gaol in that unknown island. Benighted heathens not to 
 know what money means, and to look upon wrong doing as a 
 thing not even to be named among decent people ! Why, we're 
 more civilised, even in Nevada eh ? " 
 
 " May I ask," said Lady Deane, " if your country has a king ?" 
 
 " No, indeed ! " said Senhora Miranda. " We have no king." 
 
 " I've half a mind that you shall, though," muttered the man 
 from Nevada, with a smile towards Oswald. " Richard the First, 
 King of the Ruby Islands, Emperor of the Milky Way. What 
 do you say, Mr. Derwent. How would that be for high ? " 
 
 ' I beg your pardon ? " asked Horace, starting out of an absent 
 fit; for he now had Sophy's absence on the brain. The non- 
 appearance of this girl was the first real disappointment he had 
 ever known, or had been allowed to know. 
 
 " Or perhaps," said the other, who certainly seemed to have no 
 shyness towards the newest of acquaintances, " you are thinking 
 that Horatius Primus, Lord of Venus,Emperor of the Zodiac, would 
 eoimd higher st'Jl What's the name of her country ? Will you
 
 158 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 introduce me to Rackstraw P . . . Thanks. Will you tell me, 
 Doctor Rackstraw, the name of the country of which this lady is 
 Queen P " 
 
 Oswald noticed that the man from Nevada looked straight into 
 Dr. Rackstraw's eyes with a peculiar long and steady gaze, and, 
 for the first time, spoke with a slightly American twang. 
 
 " Pardon me, Mr. Harding,** said the Doctor; " Senhora Miranda 
 is incognita at present ; a fiction, no doubt, but etiquette must 
 be observed. I would tell you with pleasure, were she not, in a 
 certain special sense, under my charge ; and of course you under- 
 stand " 
 
 " Oh, certainly. Nothing could be clearer. If I were you, and 
 you were I, I should do just the same. Madam may I venture 
 to ask you the name of the country whence you have come ? " 
 
 " Excuse me, sir I must not name it," said she, in a low tone 
 almost in a whisper, not to be heard farther off than his and 
 Oswald's ears. " It is busqd secret : holy but you have no such 
 word. Of course you understand ? " 
 
 " Oh certainly. Nothing could be clearer, Madam. Will you 
 allow me to get you some refreshment ? " he asked, offering his arm. 
 
 She placed her fingers within it as if she had been used to 
 drawing-room manners for years instead of minutes. Mrs. Der- 
 went looked almost angrily towards Dr. Rackstraw and then to- 
 wards Lady Deane. Who was this impudent stranger that had 
 presumed to usurp the honour she had intended to reserve for the 
 most distinguished man in the room or perhaps, in his capacity 
 of host, for her own son? " Your friend Mr. Harding does not 
 seem over diffident," said she. " By the way, who is Mr. Harding ? 
 Is he anybody whose name we ought to know ? " 
 
 " Oh, my dear, you must excuse him ; he is just rolling in gold 
 or in silver, I should say. He brought letters to us from 
 Sir John's correspondents in New York he's a millionaire ; and 
 yet he's a gentleman. With all his money, and all his push and 
 assurance, he is a gentleman. If I had a daughter and you, my 
 dear, have two : if I were you, I should take quite a fancy to Mr. 
 Harding; I should indeed." 
 
 " He is certainly good-looking and he does seem a gentleman, 
 as you say. I should never have taken him for an American." 
 
 " Oh, there are Americans of all sorts now. We musn't be too 
 particular in these days. Why the Queen's do look the 
 Queen's eating chicken, just as if she were a Christian! And
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. I 59 
 
 she's holding her fork like you or me ! My dear, I am dis- 
 appointed in your Queen. But it's true that her rubies are just 
 glorious. You are a fortunate -woman, my dear ; two daughters 
 and a son. I have only Dash poor dear little thing." 
 
 " Hargrave, will you look after my sister ? " asked Horace. 
 " Mr. Hargrave my sister Anne." And he wearily turned to the 
 duty of looking after the nearest at hand of his lady guests, who 
 happened to be a plain and elderly nobody, deaf, and with nothing 
 to say one of the flies found in every specimen of social amber 
 who could only wonder at the distinction. 
 
 Oswald had already offered his arm to Miss Anne, when the 
 footman to whom he had given his name on arriving handed him 
 a note, directed to him in pencil in a hurried hand, brought, so he 
 was told, by a maidservant who was waiting for an answer. 
 
 " Pray read it," said Anne Derwent. " Dear me, Mr Hargrave," 
 she added, seeing the look that came over his face as he opened 
 it, " I hope it is no bad news ? " 
 
 " Yes no I hope not, Miss Derwent ; but you will not think 
 me rude if 1 leave you ? I must go at once. You will forgive 
 me, I am sure." 
 
 " Of course ; pray don't mind me. Good-night, Mr. Hargrave," 
 said Miss Anne, who had not been particularly taken with her 
 brother's silent, door-way haunting friend, and was in some haste 
 to watch Senhora Miranda feed. She reached the supper table 
 just as the man from NeA-ada was pouring out Her Majesty's first 
 glass of champagne. Meanwhile the searcher for Lawrence 
 Derwent and Rosamond Fane was half way down the staircase 
 reading once more the pencil note that had summoned him away : 
 
 " DEAR OSWALD, Come at once, wherever you are. Uncle 
 has been taken very ill. SPHY." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Caspa. But if thou hast occasion of a lie, see that it be of good, honest black, 
 and not of your brown, nor of your grey, nor of your white the 
 least of all. For out of black, what can grow more than but black- 
 ness ? But out of white groweth fruit of the fiend's own colour, 
 which is to daikness even what the hue of Saturn of a midwinter 
 midnight showeth beside the plory of the light of a midsummer 
 noon. See thou to it misstrust a white horse, a white hand, a 
 white sepulchre, and a WHITE LIE. 
 
 OSWALD lost no time in driving to the Fanes'. Sophy's 
 message had startled and alarmed, but had scarcely sur- 
 prised, him : for he had, since his return from his latest
 
 I6o A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 Chapter of travel, formed his own opinion as to the mental and 
 oodily condition of his old friend. lie had been dreading a break- 
 down, and, during his impatient drive, only trusted that it might 
 be but of the body, and not of the mind. Well in any case it 
 was fortunate he was in London, for Sophy's sake, who was that 
 jfarest of mortals : an heiress without friends. Jf she needed him, 
 he must even consent to let his life's search grow cold for a time, 
 hard as that would be. 
 
 So he passed the literary fortifications, outworks, citadel, and all. 
 But, before he had time to look round the barely lighted drawing- 
 room or to ask a question, he heard a sob, so eloquent of desolation 
 and despair as to make him feel that something must have happened 
 that was worse than the worst he had feared. 
 
 " Sophy ? " he said, half aloud. " What has happened ? I am 
 here." 
 
 " And he is Dead ! " said she. 
 
 And what is more right and natural than that a man should 
 die ? Surely, when we consider it in the cold light of reason, there 
 is no mystery of life greater than the manner in which we regard 
 so simple and so common a thing. After all, it is infinitely more 
 wonderful that a man should live than that he should die : for he 
 spands his moments amid a flight of poisoned arrows, and every 
 instant that he escapes is a new miracle. Nor was there any especial 
 element cf pathos in the fact or in the manner of ^Eneas Fane's 
 departure from a world wherein his part had been to prove that 
 one man who gives his whole mind to the work can waste more 
 time than any ordinary ten. Unless indeed there might be some- 
 thing like pathos in the wonder what occupation could be found 
 beyond the grave for a collector's disembodied soul. To discover 
 the vanity of its own nature would be the same thisg as sheer an- 
 nihilation yet one cannot suppose that it would be let loose 
 among such tempting specimens as comets and stars. Yet Oswald 
 who had remained unimpressed by all the flood of life from which 
 he had freshly come, felt all the awe which, in a house of Death 
 tells a man that the new Master of that house is the one reality 
 amofig a world of phantoms and stage-shadows. lie had, in his 
 wanderings, met with Death often : but had never till now been 
 under the same roof, alone with II im and a girl. 
 
 Try as we will, where Death is concerned only common-place 
 are the things we can feel, and only most utterly common-place the
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 161 
 
 things we can say, if we are so foolish as to say anything at all. 
 Oswald was not f oolish at least in this way. Something no doubt 
 would have to be done presently, when the time should come for 
 business, but nothing now, except to give Sophy the comfort of an 
 old friend's sympathetic presence until her tears should change into 
 articulate words. 
 
 It was not long before he heard, in fragments, the story of the 
 end of ^Eneas Fane. Sophy had been dressing for Mrs. Derwent's 
 reception, and had gone to her uncle's study, his inmost treasure- 
 house, to bid him good-night, and to see that he had all he could 
 possibly want for the next few hours, only to find him crushed, as 
 it were, into his armchair, scarcely conscious, and apparently in an 
 agony of pain. An open book, the Flora, was at his feet, just 
 where it had fallen from his hand. The nearest doctor came with- 
 out a moment's delay : but her uncle had never rallied, had never 
 spoken, had never made a conscious sign, and had died before Sophy 
 had realised that he was dying. 
 
 Oswald remained in Richmond Place that night, sitting in the 
 room where his old friend's heart had broken down, and thinking 
 over Sophy's affairs. As to these he foresaw some little trouble, 
 for these had been entirely in her uncle's hands from the beginning, 
 and it would probably prove difficult to discover precisely how 
 they stood,, with a view to arranging them. However, that would 
 be merely a question of time and trouble, not to be grudged to 
 Rosamond's sister by Rosamond's lover, even though it meant the 
 robbery of precious days from the work he lived for. Even from 
 that point of view matters might have been worse: it was not as if 
 he had just found that there was a hint of a clue in Central Africa 
 or at the Antipodes, which unless it were grasped immediately 
 would slip from his fingers. For Silver Moldwarp was in London : 
 and, for the moment, Silver Moldwarp represented the whole of the 
 clue not much indeed, but stiH all. As for Sophy herself, he could 
 not feel that the death of her uncle, at a reasonable age, would 
 prove by any means an irreparable misfortune. The old gentleman, 
 with his books upon the brain, had been doing his unconscious best 
 to ruin the poor girl's life and to cut her off from her kind, and it 
 had become inexplicable to Oswald that she had never rebelled 
 perhaps that was a sign that the crushing process was being only too 
 well done. She would now be able to take her place inthe world, 
 or better still, to go down to live at Crossmarsh and live there 
 quietly and usefully among her own people and on her own laud. 
 
 11
 
 162 A PEAL QUEEX. 
 
 She would easily find some middle-aged companion of the right 
 sort, and Oswald, wherever he might be, would somehow manage 
 to look after her in a general brotherly way. 
 
 And so, having overleaped the immediate trouble of the inquest 
 and the lawyers, and having disposed of Sophy in that masculine 
 manner which leaves the chances of love and marriage out of 
 every question except one's own, Oswald's mind was free to fall 
 back upon itself and Rosamond. Not Death under the same roof 
 could for long interfere with that long thought which had be- 
 come a second nature which had only become the stronger with 
 the decline of passion, or rather had itself become a passion, 
 devouring alike all other realities and dreams. It never occurred 
 to him that his search for one whom reason could not doubt was 
 dead, had been practically proved as vain as had been ^Eneas 
 Fane's for the Phoenician sun-dial. It never occurred to him that 
 it was almost as endless and worthless as another man's devotion 
 of a life to getting richer, or yet another's to the pursuit of 
 pleasure. If he thought of the matter in this light at all, it 
 seemed to him at the very least as sane as theirs. Every man 
 tries to get what he most wants. Oswald did not want more 
 money. He did not want pleasure. He did not want to make a 
 name. There was nobody who needed his help : nor was he one 
 of those people who feel impelled to work for the benefit of the 
 world at large. The ruling motive of his life was to carry out to 
 the end what he had begun : and he must cease to be himself, as 
 Le was made, before he could lay this search aside. And no less 
 must he cease to be himself before he could tear away from him 
 the faith that Rosamond had not perished nine years ago, and 
 therefore might be living still. He thought the chance of finding 
 her living better worth working for than the possession of plea- 
 sure for which he had no taste, or of money, for which he had no 
 need. I suppose he was another case of the dog who snatched at 
 the shadow. But who is not ? And then there is another legend 
 about a mote and a beam. 
 
 And now it was less likely that he would cease to be himself 
 than ever : because he had obtained an actual thread of a possible 
 clue for the first time during nine years. Silver Moldwarp pro- 
 fessed to have seen Lawrence Derwent, and in London. Moreover 
 1 here was evidently more in this profession than had met the ear. 
 It meant that Lawrence Derwent had succeeded in his escape, and 
 that his movements were of interest to exceeding unlikely people,
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 163 
 
 and in a way that had a significance of its own. Silver Mold- 
 warp's peculiar connection with Rosamond's disappearance re- 
 mained unforgotten, and his connection moreover with the 
 simultaneous disappearance of Lawrence Derwent from Lowtnoor. 
 Of course there had heen nothing definite in the connection. But 
 he had played a conspicuous part in the search for the latter, and 
 had signalised his paraded failure by turning out to he an extra- 
 ordinary skilful rogue. If those who hide can find, it is no less 
 true that those know where not to look who do not want to find. 
 Oswald remembered how he had searched the neighbourhood of 
 Crossmarsh and Windgates, inland and along the shore, well-nigh 
 inch by inch, while the gaol people and the police had been 
 scarcely less active. The man from Lowmoor must have been 
 hidden somewhere all the time, and supplied with food until the 
 coast was clear. He could not have been thus hidden and supplied 
 without friendly or purchased aid. Though a prisoner, he might 
 be in a position to promise a reward : and, as one scoundrel, he 
 might find a friend in another. Since that conversation at the 
 bookseller's, Oswald had become half convinced that Silver Mold- 
 warp had aided Lawrence Derwent to escape, and that through 
 him the secret of the yet greater mystery was to be discovered, if 
 it was to be discovered at all. 
 
 But this strong belief, well founded as it was, obliged him to 
 proceed with the utmost caution. He wanted to get at Lawrence 
 Dei-went himself ; and so cunning a rogue as Moldwarp was not to 
 be dealt with easily. If the bookseller and the escaped convict 
 were still friends, a word of warning would spoil all. So, as yet, 
 he scarcely knew what to do. It was unfortunate that the old 
 rascal knew him, and knew, moreover, that he knew him to be a 
 rogue. Possibly a heavy bribe might serve, made conditional on 
 results. But then Oswald was troubled with one rare quality 
 a distrust of his own sharpness. He fancied himself capable of 
 being taken in, and Silver Moldwarp to be capable of taking in 
 cleverer men than he. For had he not taken in, for years, a 
 learned scholar like poor JEneas Fane ? 
 
 No inspiration came to him that night, as he sat among the 
 ghosts of forgotten authors that had been gathered together by 
 hands now nearly as dead as they. Had his mind been free, and 
 had it been open to fancies, he migl, t have seen a vision of wasted 
 labour impressive enough to turn him away from his own search, 
 and to dismiss even Rosamond herself to the region of her fellow 
 
 11 A
 
 164 A HEAL QUEEX. 
 
 shadows. If wo were to think of why we work, what work 
 would ever be done? Happily for Oswald, he never thought 
 of the Why, but always and only of the How. So he saw no 
 vision* and dreamed no dreams. And when the morning came 
 his only thought was, with a sigh, that he had brought himself 
 no *arer to a plan, and, that, for the moment, the actual Sophy 
 must come before the shadowy Rosamond. Well he needed 
 time to think. The change of thoughts might not prove wholly 
 thrown away. 
 
 He saw Sophy for a few minutes before going out on her busi- 
 ness, and found her, now that her first outburst of grief and 
 terror had spent itself, scarcely able to realise a blow that, in 
 effect, had swept the whole of her past life away. Her affection 
 for her uncle had not been that which comes of sympathy he 
 was not the man to have inspired the deepest scut of filial love, 
 even in a child of his own. But nobody can ever be missed kke 
 a man of one dominant and aggressive idea, who makes that the 
 centre of the household circle until all about him learn to regard 
 it as an essential and indispensable part of their own lives. Uncle 
 ./Eneas, with his coins, his flints, his laces, or his books, had been 
 bound up with every association of her life from the beginning 
 the could only feel herself left alone without chart or compass 
 >n a strange sea. The cable of habit had broken, with a sharper 
 shock than belongs to the severing of any more delicate and pre- 
 cious cord. Such grief is not the less sharp at the time for being 
 so much inspired with self-pity rather the more : especially when 
 that troublesome creature, conscience, enters and charges us with 
 feeling less sorrow for our dead than for our living selves. 
 
 Oswald's first visit was to the doctor, who had no doubt done 
 his best in a case where, as he told his visitor, there was simply 
 nothing to be done. " Heart ? unquestionably," said he. " Of 
 course there will have to be an examination, and an inquest : but 
 it will all be arranged very quietly, and with no pain or trouble 
 to the young lady." 
 
 Thence Oswald went to make arrangements for the funeral, and 
 then returned to the house, and, shutting himself in the study, 
 set to work upon sorting the papers which, alas, require no taste 
 for collecting to bring together. 
 
 tineas Fane's documents mostly consisted of letters referring 
 to his various dealings, of obsolete catalogues, and of bibliographi- 
 cal memoranda. There were also a journal or two, kept in a
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 165 
 
 fragmentary manner: the draft of an unfinished monograph on 
 an unusual form of the letter M in some manuscript or other ; 
 the lease of the house in London, and the ordinary bills and 
 receipts of a housekeeper. Of such old letters or other written 
 relics as give a soul to a dead man's escritoire there were no signs. 
 The man had lived an absolutely single life in more senses than 
 one there was more pathos in the want of one such touch than in 
 a whole cart-load of memories. Can he be rightly even called dead, 
 who leaves no signs that he has ever been alive ? 
 
 Then followed a rather curious paper a scheme neatly drawn 
 out on foolscap, for the establishment, custody, and development 
 of the Fane library a wonderful institution, containing ancient 
 books to the value of a fabulous number of thousands of pounds, 
 all the property of Miss Sophia Fane and her heirs, but to be avail- 
 able to students and scholars under certain stringent conditions 
 therein fully specified. There was something of child's play, or 
 of the revelry of imagination, in this elaborate scheme which 
 found no comprehension in Oswald's strictly practical mind. Why 
 should a reasonable being amuse himself with building such 
 castles in the air ? He did not recognise in it the one poem that 
 ./Eneas Fane had ever written, not the less a poem for being com- 
 posed in the form of legal prose. Looking at it from a reasonable 
 point of view, it was preposterous altogether. It priced books as 
 if they were diamonds, and treated Miss Sophia Fane as if its 
 imagined possession rendered her a queen of millionaires, and 
 through its author, an arch-benefactress of the world. There, 
 for example, was that precious Flora, set down in the schedule as 
 representing five thousand pounds sterling. It could not be a joke, 
 because ^Eneas Fane would have thought it sacrilege to jest about 
 such things. Perhaps Oswald would have understood it better, 
 had he been conscious that he had a yet more unreasonable dream 
 of his own. But then to be a man of action is to dream without 
 knowing that one dreams. 
 
 He had been something more than two hours over this monoto- 
 nous work when he came upon a document that made him start 
 and knit his brows together quickly before he had read half-a-dozen 
 lines. But even when he had read it twice through, first at a 
 gallop, then slowly and carefully, he was yet more bewiklered 
 than at the beginning. This, at any rate, was no jest, whatever 
 the other thing might be. He was engaged in a third anxious 
 reading when a knock at the front door was followed by the card
 
 1 66 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 of Mr. Horace Derwent, with a pencilled request for at least one 
 minute's interview. 
 
 There could not have been a moment at which he was less 
 ready to be disturbed ; for the document, taken by itself and 
 without further light, meant ruin to Sophy at the hands of a 
 madman, so far as he could yet guess at its meaning. However, 
 lie could hardly deny himself to the only friend, besides himself, 
 of the dead man. 
 
 "What is all this terrible business?" asked Horace. "Good 
 God when I called and saw all the blinds down I thought but 
 thank God, I thought wrong. How is she Miss Fane ? " 
 
 " A terrible business ? Yes, indeed. He died suddenly, of 
 heart disease. Of course it is a terrible blow to the poor girl." 
 
 " And at the very time when we were making fools of ourselves 
 I was sure, though, all the time, that there was something 
 wrong. What can i do ? " 
 
 " Nothing. I am doing all there is to be done. I am almost 
 her brother " 
 
 "Yes: I know. But still I might do something. You are 
 full of business, I see : and there must be other things Of course she 
 couldn't see everybody. But she might see me. . . . Hargrave 
 I thought she was dead, when I saw all those bh'nds. And 
 even now I can't say just what I mean I want to see with my 
 own eyes that she's alive." 
 
 Something in the tone or manner of his acquaintance struck 
 Oswald with a new light, though his mind happened to be at the 
 moment anything but open to any ideas save those connected 
 with the estate of ^Eneas Fane. And that something made him 
 far from anxious to allow a meeting until he had learned a great 
 deal that was still utterly dark to him. 
 
 "No," he said, "I don't think Miss Fane would care to sea 
 anybody to-day not even you. She hasn't borne the blow 
 worse than she needs must, but I've no doubt she would 
 wish to be alone : and as for doing anything, there is nothing to 
 be done, more than I am doing now." 
 
 " Of course I should not wish to trouble her. Let me see 
 you're not related to the Fanes ? " 
 
 " No. I only hoped to have been, But why do you ask ? I 
 am their oldest friend, and have known them since I was ft 
 child." 
 
 "Well then, Hargrave I asked because I wanted to know
 
 A REAL QUEEN. ,67 
 
 j list how much right you had to speak for Misa Fane : that's all 
 I fancy that perhaps she would see me : anyhow I should like the 
 choice to be hers." 
 
 He did not speak in a manner at which anybody could possibly 
 take offence, though it rather surprised Oswald by its most 
 uncharacteristic air of decision. Evidently this quiet young 1 
 man, to whom self-assertion had always seemed too much trouble 
 to be worth the taking, was not without a will of his o\vn, when 
 he had occasion for its exercise. And, as to control of Sophy, 
 whatever duties Oswald might assume, of rights he had absolutely 
 none. Assuredly Sophy was entitled to see whomsoever she 
 pleased. And in this case, how could he be sure that she would 
 not please? Between any two given young men, one of them 
 always feels himself, and generally with good reason, to be 
 master, whenever there comes a clash of wills. As between 
 Horace Derwent and Oswald Hargrave, this position had hitherto 
 been held by the latter: and now it seemed that there was at 
 any rate one matter in which the former meant to hold his own 
 And rebellion was the easier, seeing that Oswald was, in all 
 things save one, an eminently reasonable man, and therefore fore- 
 doomed to give way before one who was not reasonable, and 
 therefore stronger than reason. 
 
 "After all," said Horace, "there's no reason why I shouldn't 
 make a clean breast of it to an oid friend of the house like you 
 and I hope a friend of my own besides. I meant last night to 
 ask her to be my wife and I mean to ask her as soon as I find 
 her able to listen. I must, therefore, know something of her 
 plans : and it is now, in her trouble, that she ought to feel that 
 I am by her side." 
 
 " You wish to many Sophy Fane ! " 
 
 " Of course I do. Is there anybody who wouldn't, if he had 
 the chance ? Of course I don't know yet whether she would 
 marry me. But I must know it, and that soon, if I'm to be any 
 sort of use to myself, or good for anything in the world. And 1 
 am not without hope why should I be? Of course it isn't a 
 time to be talking to her of myself to-day, or perhaps for many 
 days but " 
 
 But Oswald's ears were growing deaf, for his mind was wander- 
 ing far away. The brother of Lawrence Derwent was proposing 
 to marry the sister of Rosamond Fane. 
 
 Believing as he believed, that, in some undiscovered but doubt-
 
 163 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 less terrible way, Lawrence Derwent was connected with the 
 death of .Rosamond, if she were dead, or with her disappearance, 
 if she were yet living, the thought suggested even hideous possi- 
 bilities. Had Rosamond been murdered ? For it was that solu- 
 tion which lay at the root of his master passion of vengeance : 
 and in that case what could be more hideous than that Sophy 
 should unwittingly give her hand to her sister's murderer unless 
 indeed she gave him her heart, which would be something more 
 hideous still. The tragedy of nine years ago was coming home 1 o him 
 in a new way. And yet, ignorant as he was of all that had really 
 happened, and hanging his faith to a belief that reason scorned, 
 what explicable right had he to interfere between a young man 
 who was but an acquaintance, and a girl over whom he could 
 only usurp authority ? In the nature of things there was no sort 
 of reason why Horace Derwent of Longwood should not marry 
 Sophia Fane of Crossmarsh. They were of suitable age, appar- 
 ently of suitable character : their social position was sufficiently 
 equal, and there was enough fortune on both sides, and to spare. 
 Moreover Sophy was now in absolute need of a protector, and 
 she might well live to a good old age without finding another: 
 the marriage looked as if it had been made in Heaven, and destined 
 to be brought to pass at Heaven's best time. And yet Oswald 
 knew in his heart that, till the mystery was made clear, the 
 marriage must not be. 
 
 And if Horace Derwent saw Sophy now, in the first hours of 
 her desolation, and with her past life wholly swept away, it 
 might be very well on the lover's part to mean to speak no word of 
 love ; but that was no reason why the words should not come to 
 themselves. Both, under the shadow of death, would be rapt 
 into an exalted mood, when men and women speak not as they 
 will but as they feel. He, Oswald, would have no right to forbid 
 the banns. But his mission must go on to the end ; and then 
 what an end, if it should be discovered that Sophy was bound by 
 stronger ties than blood to the house at whose door the blood of 
 her sister lay ? Oswald had persistently fought away the thought 
 of Rosamond's death till now. But now it rose before him as a 
 terrible possibility, though still connected with him whose dis- 
 appearance was so inextricably bound up with hers. 
 
 " I will see if she can see you," said he. " Well," he thought 
 within himself as he went upstairs not to Sophy's room, but to 
 his own, "I'm afraid one must sometimes do some evil that
 
 A REAL QUEEN. !6 9 
 
 worse evil mayn't come and if all should end well for these two 
 they'll have lost nothing by being kept from meeting for a day. 
 A white lie will hurt nobody but myself : and this might turn so 
 that I oughtn't to mind being hurt by a black one. They must 
 not meet, if I had to perjure myself black and blue. So here 
 goes .... Derweut," said he, returning, " it's no use your stay- 
 ing : she really can't see anybody to-day, not even you. She has 
 a bad headache no wonder ; and she's trying to sleep. It's the 
 best thing she can do. To-morrow " 
 
 It -was the first lie that Oswald had tried to tell in his life, and 
 he felt that he was telling it badly. Am I the first who has 
 ever been driven to admit that a man who in any sense or degree 
 was supposed to be playing a hero's part told a lie deliberately 
 and for a purpose, in order to keep two lovers apart, and FO 
 played the villain's proper role? At any rate, this liar had ihe 
 grace to be ashamed, though he did not for a moment alter his 
 opinion as to its being better to hurt his own conscience, which 
 mattered to nobody but himself, than to risk ruining others' lives. 
 The shame seemed punishment enough so far. 
 
 Still he obtained one unfair advantage upon which he had not 
 reckoned however badly and awkwardly he might lie, nobody, 
 not even the acquaintance of an hour, would suspect Oswald Har- 
 gi-ave of having tried to lie. Surely it would pay some villain to 
 tell the truth for twenty years, by way of investing in honesty, for 
 the sake of the grand coup that he might make at the end. 
 
 Horace believed him why should he not ? But the thought of 
 Sophy in pain as well as in sorrow went to his heart, and his head 
 throbbed in sympathy with hers. " I'm sorry awfully," said he. 
 " But of course she mustn't be disturbed. Only, is there nothing I 
 can do for her nothing in the world ? Nowhere I could go '( 
 By Jove, Ilargrave, I wish I could do her any good by setting off 
 to the North Pole " 
 
 " I wish you could," said Oswald ; this time with unquestion- 
 able honesty. " I wish anything could do her good, poor girl." 
 
 " I will call to-morrow," said Horace. " Good-bye." And off 
 he set, to think of what might help to cheat away a headache, 
 and more than ever in a state of mind of which his mother would 
 disapprove. 
 
 Oswald sighed with relief when he was gone ; and again turned 
 to the paper over which he had been interrupted, though with a 
 siffh of a different kind.
 
 1 70 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 ''Good God ! Fane must have been fit for a madhouse! " he 
 exclaimed in thought. "There was neither jest nor child's play 
 about that library scheme. He has really believed that he wa 
 making Sophy's fortune by turning her land into waste paper. 
 His book-shelves hold all her estate, if this paper is not a dream. 
 The poor girl has had a mad trustee worse than mad, because he 
 made everybody think him sane. Let me see who was his 
 lawyer P Corbet, of Laxham, I suppose. Yes I must run 
 down. . . . And then there'll be that confounded young 
 fellow calling to-morrow when my back's turned ; to-morrow and 
 every day. "What's to be done ; there must be no love-making tiU 
 I've mastered Moldwarp; and even that must wait, now . . 
 "Well, there's nothing for it but another lie, and a large one this 
 time. I've begun, and I must go through." 
 
 He rang the bell. The Fane's parlour-maid was a sharp girl, 
 who had for some weeks realised that Oswald's was maire du 
 palais, and was not likely to disobey the orders of a somewhat 
 masterful young man. 
 
 "I'm going down into the country," said he, "perhaps for 
 some days. You know Mr. Horace Derwent ? " 
 
 " Of course, sir. He that's just gone." 
 
 "Well, your mistress is very unwell at present, and on no 
 account to be disturbed. She must see nobody except the doctor, 
 nobody : you understand ? If Mr. Derwent calls to-morrow, or 
 any other day before I come back, your mistress is not at home. 
 And if he asks when she will be at home you must not know. No 
 you must say that she has gone into the country for some time, 
 and that you don't know when she will be back : and that will 
 prevent his calling again. It is of the utmost importance that she 
 should be quite quiet, and not disturbed. Here's something for 
 yourself, Susan. 1 trust your mistress to you, you see and it 
 depends upon if Mr. Derwent sees her whether I trust you again." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Susan, as she took her fee, and smiled. "What 
 was more natural than that one young man should do his best to 
 keep another out of the field while he himself was away. Oswald 
 had not thought of that reading : but then, if he had thought of 
 it, he would not have cared. 
 
 It was treachery, no doubt. But better treachery which could 
 as it seemed cause no irreparable wrong than the risk of 
 letting the brother of Lawrence Derwent whisper too closely in 
 the ear of the sister of Rosamond Fane.
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. iji 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Alone ! 
 
 Hath Music's self a sadder tone 
 1'han lies in that one word Alone? 
 Ah, if fhe hath, then let her speak 
 Her comfort unto hearts that break 
 For want of finding, mid the tares, 
 A weed more sorrowful than theirs 
 For sorrow's deepest depths unknown 
 To all save thoso that mourn alone : 
 And half its bitterness is gone 
 'Whene'er we find, 'neath moon or sun, 
 Some sadder heart to rest our b urden on. 
 
 SOPHY was in truth so free from headache, and so little desirous 
 of sleep, that she had heard the knock at the door, and her 
 heart gave a little leap at its familiar sound. Whether 
 she was actually in love with Horace, after the manner accepted 
 in books and more or less in common conversation, she as yet 
 hardly knew. But she would have thought it perfectly natural 
 that he should be the first to call upon her in her trouble, and her 
 very trouble itself made her miss him 'Oswald was all very well > 
 but then all he did was for the sake of her poor dead sister's 
 memory, and nothing for her own. He could not save her from 
 feeling alone and uncared for in the world. 
 
 She would assuredly have seen Horace. But, as the knock pro- 
 duced no result, and as she did not even hear of his having called 
 she could only suppose herself mistaken in the sound, while a shy- 
 ness, very natural in her half -developed feeling towards him, kept 
 her from showing any interest or betraying any disappointed 
 expectation by enquiring. Since he had not seen her, it was not 
 he; since he had not come, he had not cared to come. That was 
 all perfectly right, of course, and she was not going to care or at 
 anv rate to show Oswald or the servants that she cared. 
 
 Oswald had come up for the inquest and the funeral, but had 
 only the scantiest and most unavoidable of talk with her, and had 
 then left town again immediately. She scarcely noticed how full 
 of gloom he had become he was always grave and somewhat 
 silent, and present circumstances were not of the sort to make any 
 man otherwise. But he might have done something to give her 
 cheer and comfort, and he brought her neither he even put off 
 everything in the shape of discussing her immediate plans. And, 
 as the days went on, and brought nothing with them, the poor 
 girl felt wofully in need of some excuse to smile. She had 
 cried enough ; for her tears came easily and profusely, and when
 
 172 A SEAL QUEEX. 
 
 she wept she wept herself out, and required a charge. One does 
 not break one's heart over an elderly uncle whom one first knew 
 as a collector of flints, among which his own heart appeared to he 
 the arch specimen. Yet he was too lately gone for her lo sm'le 
 without an excuse, and none came. It seemed fourteen years 
 since he had died, instead of fourteen days. 
 
 But long before that time, her pride had taken fire. Even if 
 Horace Derwent did not care the value of a straw for her, com- 
 mon courtesy should have compelled the form of a visit from her 
 uncle's professed friend. Her heart, at least, had never been party 
 to the fiction that Horace was a veritable bookworm, who only 
 called at Richmond Place out of a passion for first editions and 
 worm-eaten bindings. Some instinct had told her that the book he 
 came after was bound in another fashion, and was anything but a 
 first edition of that wonderful volume called Eve. She had liked 
 his visits she had liked the visitor: and now it seemed as if his 
 professed object in coming was the true one, and that she was 
 humiliated by having been mistaken from the beginning. Her 
 very error seemed to accuse her of conceit, and of an offence 
 against all that was maidenly. How could she have been so vain 
 a goose as to suppose that a brilliant young hero like Horace 
 would come and spend hours among the dust and litter of dead 
 men's brains for the sake of her voice and eyes ? His real taste 
 had no doubt been strange but so were the tastes of young men 
 in general. And after all, was it more strange than if he had 
 really cared for so common-place a girl as Sophy Fane ? If 
 Rosamond had lived then there would have been a reason for his 
 coming, besides the books, thought she. "Well I shall know 
 better another time. There are old women in Crossmarsh and I 
 will be one of them. Yes : I will go Home." 
 
 Of course she would not give another thought to Horace who, 
 had treated her in a manner that really amounted to downright 
 contempt. It is quite possible that if he did call now lie would find 
 the door closed to him by genuine orders given at first hand. But 
 this question was not put to the test : and the only visitor who 
 succeeded in passing Susan's sentry box, was the very last person 
 whom she either expected or cared to see. It was Dr. Rackstraw. 
 Perhaps the sentry remembered that she was to make an excep- 
 tion in favour of doctors ; perhaps she too rashly assumed that the 
 order was given for the sake of excluding a single visitor. Or 
 perhaps Dr. Rackstraw, being accustomed to diplomacy, had
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 173 
 
 methods of his own for overcoming all ordinary forms of op- 
 position. At any rate he made his appearance : and Sophy was 
 not ill pleased to see some sort of fellow creature, though she had 
 no liking for this particular specimen. 
 
 " I would have called long ago," he said, taking and holding her 
 hand as if he did not mean easily to let it go. " But I was away 
 from town when I heard the sad news. What can I say ? He waa 
 a great and good man : one of the choice spirits of the world and 
 I say it, though the past belonged to him, as the future to me. I 
 want to be of some use to you. What can I do ? " 
 
 " You are very kind," she said, managing to slip her hand away, 
 and rather wondering at such enthusiasm about her uncle so true 
 it is that a man cannot be a prophet in his own country and 
 in his own house. She was the quicker to withdraw her hand for 
 feeling that the man she disliked was saying and doing what 
 Horace ought to have said and done a full fortnight ago, and she 
 was angry with herself for caring. " But there is nothing you can 
 do, thank you. I am not left without the best of friends." 
 
 " Ah you mean my young friend, Horace Derwent ? " asked 
 Dr. Rackstraw, looking round at the untouched piles of books 
 that lay about just as their owner had left them. "Yes : he is a 
 good sort of young man, as young men go. Not that I should have 
 thought him exactly fitted to advise a girl in matters of business 
 a woman wants the help of an older head, and the grip of a harder 
 hand." He looked at her as she spoke with that long, penetrated 
 gaze that had made her feel so uncomfortable during his first 
 visit to her uncle : and his words had angered her. 
 
 " No," said she, sharply. " I do not mean Mr. Derwent. I have 
 not even seen him since I mean Mr. Hargrave." 
 
 " What ! You mean to tell me you mean to say you have not 
 seen Horace Derwent since my dear old friend and master went 
 where he is now conversing with those great spirits who on earth 
 conversed with him ? That is strange ! " 
 
 As before, she could not rid herself of the belief that he was 
 conscious of her thoughts : and heart, having been hurt, wished 
 to hide. " Why is it strange ? " she asked, with what she meant 
 for sublime indifference. He has nothing to do with my affairs, 
 such as they are. Now that my poor uncle is gone, it is not likely 
 that he would, come." 
 
 Dr. Rackstraw was really for a moment surprised. He knew 
 Horace, and could not account for the fact that a lover, too far
 
 174 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 gone to keep the whole world out of his secret, wearing his de- 
 votion, so to speak, written on his forehead, should not have been 
 near the house all this time. There was no engagement, lie knew, 
 for in that case Horace would have told his mother at once, and 
 his mother would have told Dr. Rackstraw. As it happened, the 
 matter touched him very- closely indeed. For the truth of the 
 matter is that the Agent-General for the Goblin Islands, having 
 called in Richmond Place to spy out the nakedness of the land, 
 had found a beauty and an heiress a discovery not to be lightly 
 thrown away. Although Mrs. Derwent's sworn knight and 
 servant, he had a warm admiration for female beauty at large, of 
 a younger kind than his liege lady's : indeed so catholic was he 
 that the yellow skins, flat noses, tattooed cheeks, and lips turned 
 inside out of the belles of Port Racksf raw itself had more than 
 once led their Agent-General astray. But the apostle of civilisa- 
 tion preferred, on the whole, a civilised type of beauty, es- 
 pecially when it represented funds and lands. A philanthropist 
 is never too rich, and the Goblin Islands had not yet wholly de- 
 developed their trade. 
 
 "They must have quarrelled," thought he. " I always thought 
 the young man was a fool, ft runs in the blood, I suppose. Not that 
 he would have been much discouraged even if he had found Horace 
 and Sophy actually engaged : for it was not likely that so weak a 
 vessel as Horace would endure against the will of Hennon Rack- 
 straw, who had made a good thing out of the father, whose path 
 had been cleared of the elder son, and who had the control of the 
 mother's purse strings. There was certainly no reason why any 
 Derwent should for long prove troublesome to a Rack straw. The 
 only point in the situation he did not like was Sophy's affectation 
 of indifference to cover real pique and anger. He knew Horace's 
 state of heart well enough, but had not supposed that Sophy's 
 heart had as yet spoken. Nor indeed had it, except to Dr. Rack- 
 straw's ears not by more than the faintest of whispers, even to 
 her own. 
 
 " No," he said, " of course it isn't likely he would come, unless 
 he cared to come. "What I meant by strange was, that he hadn't 
 cared. However, I'm glad you're not without a real friend. What 
 are your plans ? " 
 
 " Oh I don't know. It doesn't much matter. I suppose I shall 
 go home to Crossmarsh, and stay there. It's a quiet place : and I 
 want quiet "
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 175 
 
 " Is that Mr. Hargrave's plan ? " 
 
 " His aud mine." 
 
 " Then I beg leave to protest against your doing siich a thing 
 Forgive me for telling you that I know you probably I alone 
 know you. Yours is not the life or the nature to be buried, dear 
 Miss Fane. I don't know what sort of a place Crossmarsh is, but I 
 can fancy. You, with your beauty, and your grand nature, have 
 a place to fill in the great world." 
 
 Sophy opened her eyes widely. " I am sadly afraid that you 
 know you are talking nonsense," said she. " I am bound to 
 believe my looking-glass : and if I am grand, how very small the 
 small must be ! " So she answered, with what she believed to be 
 perfect honesty. But, nevertheless, she did not dislike Dr. Rack- 
 straw quite so much as ten minutes ago. Evidently he was a bad 
 judge of features and character, but such blunders at any rate 
 showed a generous enthusiasm, which is anxious to praise. A ny- 
 how Dr. Rackstraw avoided making- one blunder he had not 
 seemed to be paying a compliment, but to be merely stating an 
 obvious fact, for the sole purpose of drawing a logical con- 
 clusion. 
 
 " No, dear Miss Fane : you are not bound to believe your look- 
 ing-glass : and it is a part of grandeur to believe itself small. I 
 can quite believe that nobody has yet told you what I can tell you 
 now. To appreciate a character like yours calls for the insight of 
 perfect sympathy. Your uncle was a great man but not in a 
 way that could possibly sympathise with yours. Mr. Hargrave 
 is forgive me if I seem a little blunt : bluntness is our colonial 
 virtue is a little hard and narrow : Horace Derwent is but a 
 boy. I do not pretend to grandeur, except in ideas, and for the 
 benefit of humanity, but I have eyes, and I have a heart, and I 
 have sympathy. Probably I know you better than you know 
 yourself. I know something about Queens and, if I were found- 
 ing a new empire (than which many things are less impossible) I 
 should offer you the crown." 
 
 " Thank you, Dr. Rackstraw. But I shall be a queen queen 
 of Crossmarsh. And I shall not be without subjects either " 
 
 " No. You will not be without subjects, Miss Fane." 
 
 Her visitor was not so very awkward after all. For a moment 
 she was vexed with herself, for she caught herself smiling, and it 
 was for the first time during fourteen dreary days. But then 
 she had been hungry for an excuse for smiling : and she was
 
 \-jrs A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 presently pleased to have shown somebody that nt any rate sho 
 was not fretting after a faithless lover. Dr. Rackstraw never 
 smiled. But he triumphed gravely, for he felt that the ice was 
 begining to thaw. " She is but a child," thought he, though the 
 prettiest that ever was made." He might not have fallen in love 
 unless Crossmarsh had been in the bargain : but he was not think- 
 ing of Crossmarsh now. He could love for love's sake, and had 
 done it often in his own way. 
 
 Weariness, solitude, the sense of desertion on Sophy's past were 
 combining to render any human being welcome, even if it had 
 been the King himself instead of the Agent of the Goblin Islands. 
 By the time that the postman's knock sounded at the end of half 
 an hour, she had become really interested in her visitor. He had 
 ceased to pay her compliments, but had not ceased to talk over 
 her future plans, and somehow managed to make her feel that she 
 was the centre of interest however far away the talk might 
 wander for a time. Now and then, moreover, he used a touch of 
 the art wherewith Othello won Desdemona's heart through her 
 ears. The seas in which he had laboured were far enough away 
 to baffle her somewhat vague ideas of Antipodean geography, and 
 to permit of decidedly romantic episodes. Perhaps it might be 
 found that even at the Round Table itself some of the knights 
 tvere long and cadaverous, with unmusical voices and awkward 
 Hmbs such unquestionably was the Manchegan knight, the very 
 flower and crown of chivalry. Dr. Hermon Rackstraw had not 
 only fed the hungry with the fruits of the press and clothed the 
 naked in Manchester cotton print, but he had fought actual 
 battles, by sea and land, and had always won. Nay, there were 
 indications that Venus as well as Mars and Jupiter had a hand in 
 the horoscope of Dr. Hermon Rackstraw : and, in short, he was 
 interesting her, although, had she been asked whether she liked 
 him, she would still have answered no. 
 
 " Will you excuse me for ft moment ? " she asked, when, at the 
 end of that half hour the postman's knock was followed by a letter 
 addressed in the hand of Oswald Hargave. " It will be on busi- 
 ness ; and Mr. Hargrave would not write unless he had something 
 important to say." He bowed submission : and she read 
 
 "My DEAR SOPHY, I would have come tcr see you instead of 
 writing, but your poor uncle's affairs must keep me here every 
 day till they are settled. And in any case if I did not write to 
 you, Corbet, of Laxham, your uncle's lawyer, would and it is
 
 A REAL QUEElt. , 77 
 
 better you should hear bad news from me. There is no doubt 
 that your uncle, acting with the best intentions in the world, 
 has made use of his large powers as your trustee to invest as 
 much of your property as he could in what he thought the best 
 form of security from time to time first in old lace, which he 
 afterwards sold at a ruinous loss, then in similar things with 
 the same result, and lastly in books, believing them for the time 
 to be the best security of all. Unfortunately, he was mistaken ; 
 the last and fullest catalogue has been submitted to an expert, 
 who says that the collection would sell for little more than as 
 waste paper. Of course you used to sign and execute whatever 
 documents he asked you it was one of these which originally 
 alarmed me and of course he fully believed that he was actimg 
 in your interest, and was more than doubling your fortune. I will 
 come to the worst at once : so that I may sooner get to a practical 
 proposal. Your property at Crossmarsh is mortgaged to its full 
 value. The rents will not be more than enough to pay the in- 
 terest of the mortgages, and if the estate is sold, it will do no 
 more than pay off the principal. Under all the circumstances, 
 both Corbet and I think that the best way will be for you to sell 
 Crossmarsh. That can be done, with the consent of the Court of 
 Chancery, on your giving security that your sister or her repre- 
 sentatives should sustain no loss by the sale, in case that question 
 should ever arise. For her sake and for yours, you will look to 
 me to supply the security : you know that I represent her interests 
 and that they are my own. Next conies the question of how you 
 are to live meanwhile. My dear Sophy, I never wished before 
 that I was richer than is enough for one purpose, so that I might 
 advance what is needed to save Crossmarsh, and to purchase your 
 uncle's library at its value on paper. But that idea is hopeless : 
 and I must ask you in plain terms to look on me as the brother 
 that I once was to have been. Do not let her loss come between 
 me and the right to help you. You will not blame your uncle, I 
 know. He was an enthusiast, and did all things for what he 
 believed to be the best : and only acted secretly because he be- 
 lieved in his own opinions too firmly to wish to be troubled with 
 those of others. You will have to live quietly, of course, and in 
 a different manner from that which I had planned for you. But 
 you may be entirely free from anxiety, whether I live or die. 
 That is the chief thing that I want you to understand ; and you 
 need only let me have a line, before I see you, to tell me that you 
 
 12
 
 i;8 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 will be guided by me, who am always, dear Sophy, your most 
 affectionate friend and brother, OSWALD. 
 
 " Direct to me, to the care of E. Corbet, Esq., Solicitor, Laxham." 
 
 Dr. Rackstraw was no longer looking at her as if reading her. 
 
 On the contrary, he was looking as if he were reading one of the 
 
 books, which he had taken from the floor to occupy his time while 
 
 Sophy was reading her letter. 
 
 " You asked me just now if I had any plans," said she, " and 
 what they are." 
 
 She spoke with almost exaggerated quietness. But its exag- 
 geration was just the quality of it that struck Dr. Rackstraw, 
 and, glancing towards her quickly from his book, he saw that 
 her cheeks were flushing and her eyes sparkling. " She is some- 
 thing much more than pretty!" thought he. "Yes," he said. 
 " Are they made ? I almost hope not for it would be my am- 
 bition to advise. That is my mission, you know to advise." 
 
 " Then I will take you at your word," said Sophy with unin- 
 tended eagerness in her tone. " I wont you to tell me how I am 
 to earn my own living. That is my plan and I don't know 
 how." 
 
 " To earn your living ? You ? " 
 
 u Yes I. This letter tells me I have not a penny in the world. 
 I'm not sure whether it isn't really good news. Why should I be 
 rich when so many better people are poor ? And why should 1 
 be idle when other women have to work so hard ? Poor uncle ! 
 it never came into my head that everything was not his, to do with 
 as he pleased. Money, for once, made one man perfectly happy 
 I wouldn't have it back again. And the letter is good news for 
 it tells me that I have a real friend only he must think me a 
 wretch, when he thinks that the sister of the girl who has ruined 
 his life would be a burden on him to the weight of another straw. 
 If it's shameful to be idle and rich, it must be twice the shame to 
 be idle and poor." 
 
 " You bewilder and amaze me 1 " said Dr. Rackstraw. " What 
 has happened ? I would advise you I would help you, Heaven 
 knows. But perhaps you have read the letter wrong: it is so 
 easy to read a business letter wrong. Is it a question of a will ? " 
 " But you will put me in the way of earning a living ? You 
 can?" 
 
 " No doubt; if there is need." 
 " There is need. As you will help me you had better read
 
 A REAL QUEEN. , 7g 
 
 the letter. There is nothing in it that all the world may not know : 
 and you will see if I have misread it. Don't think I'm crying 
 over myself I'm crying because Oswald is so kind. Oh, I wish 
 Rosamond had lived instead of me ! Everything would have 
 been right for everybody, then." 
 
 Dr. Eackstraw took the letter, and read it carefully through. 
 " It comes to this," thought he. " I was wrong in calling old 
 Fane an old fool. I should have called him as mad as a March 
 hare, with enough wit to hide it ; mad as to the end, sane as to 
 the means. And this young man wants Crossmarsh sold out and 
 out either that he may throw a kindly veil over the eccentricities 
 of Sophy's uncle or that he may buy Crossmarsh cheap which 
 it is depends on the character of that young man. But the advice 
 is good, all the same. I don't want to be bothered with amateur 
 brothers. They're a nuisance always, and mostly want, before 
 they've done, to become something more. No : the girl mustn't 
 take his money. That would never do. He'll think he's bought 
 her, and expect gratitude. . . . The miserable young hound ! " 
 he exclaimed, in an audible aside, as if his thoughts were too 
 much for him, and had slipped out unawares. 
 
 "Dr. Eackstraw ! " cried Sophy, in a tone as if he had struckher. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said he. " I didn't mean to think aloud. 
 But I can't deny my own beliefs. I had been wondering why 
 Horace Derwent hadn't been to see you. I don't wonder any more. 
 He is a well, an exceedingly prudent young man. As a 
 trusted friend of your uncle, and an acquaintance of that really 
 fine and generous fellow, Hargrave, he would find out, no man 
 sooner, how you were likely to be left and these things run in 
 families, my dear child. His elder brother stole and destroyed 
 his own father's will and though that was a venial offence, by 
 comparison it shows the sort of thing that's bred in the Derwent 
 bone. That's what I meant by a 'miserable hound.' The ex- 
 pression was strong but that it was too strong, or even strong 
 enough, I cannot allow." 
 
 Sophy had thought he was speaking of Oswald. It hurt her 
 hardly less to find he had been speaking of Horace, but in another 
 way everything had combined to embitter her against Horace, 
 and she was angry with him more than she could have been with 
 any man who had not made her care for him. For she was angry 
 with herself. But, though she could not charge Dr. Eackstraw 
 with injustice, it was one thing to feel that Horace Derwent 
 
 12 A
 
 iSo A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 deserved ftard words, quite another thing to hear him receive 
 what he deserred. 
 
 " But it was much too strong," said she. " He had no duty 
 towards me not the least in the world. I never even expected 
 him to come. He was my uncle's friend not mine. He had no 
 more reason for coming than you. I would have thanked him, 
 as I thank you. But I should have no more blamed you for not 
 coming than I hlame him." 
 
 " That is because you are a dear, generous, unselfish girl. No 
 I can not sit and hear black called white it is just as dishonest 
 as the other thing. I happen to know that Mrs. Derwent was 
 afraid of you. She believed you poor before it was generally 
 known " 
 
 Sophy flushed crimson, and her eyes sparkled tenfold. 
 
 " I know what you mean, Dr. Rackstraw as if I would enter a 
 house where I was not received by all by mothers and sisters 
 with open arms ! What business had these Derwents to suppose 
 that I was laying traps and snares for their precious son ? Since 
 you know them so well, you may tell them that I would not speak 
 to him henceforth, if he called a hundred times a day. I am poor, 
 and they are rich, but I am as well born, and as proud. There 
 I have done with them all. Tell me what I shall do ? " 
 
 " Mr. Hargrave generously asks you to be his pensioner," said 
 he. " It is a handsome offer. A brother could do no more." 
 
 "And and you advise me to become a burden on one who has 
 been spending life and fortune on but you know nothing of all 
 that. Did you not hear me say I am proud ? " 
 
 " I understand you ! You are the true kinswoman of the great, 
 misunderstood spirit which is gone. ... No : the Derwents, 
 one and all, are only dust to be shaken from your shoes. And it is 
 not for you, as you say, to be a pensioner on any man." 
 
 " Then tell me how to earn my bread. All these things belong 
 to my creditors, you see. I want to begin.** 
 
 It has been said that, but for Crossmarsh, Dr. Rackstraw would 
 never have dreamed of making love to Sophy. But he was in 
 love with her now, after his manner, and, though marriage had 
 certainly ceased to be a prime object, he did not feel disposed to 
 lose the sense of ownership. He had never thought her so pretty, 
 and so piquante as now, when he had seen her in her varied moods 
 of grief, anger, and pride : and he certainly did not intend to lose 
 her until she was won. P<x>r, and alone, he could become every-
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 181 
 
 thing to her for just as long as he pleased ; and, to judge from his 
 present feelings, he saw no reason why it should not please him to 
 keep her his for ever. Horace, he felt, was struck out of the field : 
 if she could be taken irom the stronger and colder grasp of Oswald, 
 she was won. 
 
 " I honour you, my dear child," said he. " Were I as rich as I 
 am not, I would not insult your independence by offering you help 
 that you could not take without loss of self respect. My feelings 
 are identical with yours. Fortunately, you might have asked 
 ninety-nine men in a hundred for advice, and they could have told 
 you nothing but to wait and work till your chance came if it 
 came. I am the hundredth man. A lady in whom I am deeply 
 interested a Queen in her own country indeed that very lady of 
 whom I was speaking to your uncle not three weeks ago requires 
 the companionship of a young English lady to act as her secretary 
 and fellow traveller, or rather her philosopher and friend. She is 
 wonderfully like a European., considering all her disadvantages of 
 education, and is miraculously intelligent, but of course there are 
 little things that only a woman can learn from a woman and a 
 girl for she is little more only from a girl of about her own age. I 
 have been searching high and low for such a young lady of 
 course, imagining you to be in good circumstances, I did not pre- 
 sume to think of you. There is nothing you would not like in 
 such a position. You would be the friend and maid of honour to 
 a Eeal Queen, though of a barbarous kingdom : and above all 
 you would be engaged in the great and glorious mission of civilis- 
 ing the benighted, forgotten corners of the human world. Think 
 it over : and, as soon as you can, send me your decision. A word 
 
 Sophy felt and looked a little alarmed. "I I don't know," 
 said she. " Yes, I remember your speaking of that Savage Queen. 
 But mustn't one know her language ? And the responsibility 
 
 " She speaks English nearly as well as you. She learned it on 
 the voyage in the most wonderful way. As for the responsibility, 
 that is mine. She is under my charge : and if I could feel that you 
 were her friend I should be a happy man, and be able to attend 
 to larger things." 
 
 Sophy cast down her eyes, and considered. In truth, when she 
 had spoken so bravely about fighting her way through the world 
 by the strength of her own hands, she had not supposed that a 
 weapon wouli be put into her hands quite so soon. But tho
 
 i8z A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 impulse was on her, and she could not draw back without, yet 
 further humiliation. Besides, it would be so great a thing if she 
 could take her life into her own hands before writing to Oswald, and 
 could say, " Thank you with all my heart but, you see, I can 
 stand alone." For in truth her pride had been sorely wounded on 
 all sides, and she needed to regain self-respect, and to revindicate 
 herself in her own eyes. 
 
 " You will need no recommendation," said Dr. Rackstraw, " but 
 mine. Perhaps you might think it advisable to take another name 
 a sort of nom de guerre. No doubt you will see all sorts of 
 people, and you might not care to have yourself discussed in relat ion 
 to your own family affairs. It would be best for you, no uoubt, to 
 merge yourself in your position as secretary to the Queen. But of 
 coarse that is for yourself to decide. ... I mustn't venture yet 
 upon advertising her place of refuge to Master Horace," thought 
 he. " He'll find it out, of course but with three days' start a 
 man who doesn't win a race deserves to lose." 
 
 " My name ? I shall certainly take a new name. 1 can't have 
 the Pitcainis and all the people in Crossmarsh talking about my 
 uncle I want to begin my life, and to begin it free. Of course 
 I will take a new name : I feel 1 don't know why as if I want 
 to hide." She did not say, " From Horace " but though she had 
 said that she did not know why, she did know why particularly 
 well. " Will you wait for me five minutes ? I shall not be more." 
 
 " I certainly have the art of managing women," said Dr. Rack- 
 straw to himself, as soon as he was left alone. " She adopts every 
 hint I make, as if it were her own. Well she's worth a little 
 trouble : or for that matter, a good deal : and the Queen will take 
 care of her, and she'll take care of the Queen. . . . Why are you 
 going- out, Miss Fane? " he asked, as Sophy returned, dressed for 
 walking. 
 
 " Are you not going to take me to the Queen ? I have sent for 
 a cab 1 tcant to go : and if I don't go at once I'm afraid I shall 
 change my mind." 
 
 '' It is the hand of Fate," said Dr. Rackstraw, solemnly, " that 
 cent me here to-day. At once, then. Come." 
 
 Sophy, in her exalted mood of decision and energy, heightened 
 by the fear of being afraid, did not see Horace Dei-went, who, in 
 the exercise of some lover's folly, was without a shadow of reason 
 passing along the terrace on the opposite side.
 
 A REAL QUEBN. T g 3 
 
 "Then she is not out of town and I am a fool! " thought he. 
 " Well it is never too late to mend. Women they're all the 
 same." And lie strode off, wondering why it had been worth 
 Sophy's while to play with him and then throw him away, while 
 his feet seemed to beat the pavement to the old tune, 
 
 " La donna e mobile qual piuma al vento 
 Muta d'accento, e di pensier." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Not welcoming shores, though kissed by native seas, 
 Not English daisies, nor ancestral trees 
 Make home, save iu a dream though far we roam 
 Name but one name, and magic leads us home. 
 
 SOPHY wondered, as she and her newly developed friend 
 drove along in silence, where she was leaping to. Now 
 that the plunge had been made, she realised that she had 
 been leaping before thinking, and that her impulse had, in some 
 inexplicable way, been directed from without rather than excited 
 from within. But it was too late to withdraw now she could 
 only indulge a sort of hope that she might not satisfy this 
 barbarian Queen, or that some other accident might keep the 
 arrangement from being made. But, on the other hand, she could 
 not possibly mistrust the good faith of Dr. Eackstraw, or repent 
 having decided to act for herself without the aid or advice 
 of Oswald, to whom she could only prove a burden. " I wish 
 I had slept on it ! " thought she, " only then, if I had, I should 
 never have made up my mind and if I had lost this chanco 
 I should not have deserved another. Since I am to earn my own 
 bread somehow, the sooner I begin anyhow. I suppose I am as 
 fit for an etiquette mistress, as I am for anything and after all, 
 if I do make a mistake or two, it won't matter much with a 
 savage Queen. And if I don't suit, or if I can't get on, I can 
 always go : and, as I shall have another name, no particular harm 
 can be done. What will Oswald say ! But I shall have done 
 right and I sha'n't have to argue about doing it : it will be done." 
 Meanwhile the Senhora had made an unquestionable sensation. 
 No doubt, when the first glamour of her beauty had spent itself, 
 the general feeling was one of disappointment. As a savage, she 
 was an impostor. But in other respects there was no doubt about 
 her being a. very charming and fascinating woman, and with an
 
 184 A EEAL QUEEN. 
 
 unconscious natural dignity without the least self -consciousness 
 that added to her charm to an infinite extent, and she was talked 
 over with something of the interest due to a Queen who wore one 
 of the recognised crowns of the world. 
 
 And yet, who was she, after all ? 
 
 Her jewels were undoubtedly real ; and they spoke in her favour 
 with an eloquence beyond the reach of all words. They were no 
 impostors: and if she were an adventuress, as was hinted at by 
 two most notorious crotcheteers, who did not like Dr. Rackstraw, 
 her adventures must have been of a royal kind. It had become 
 known that she was living very quietly and unostentatiously in 
 expensive apartments taken for her by Dr. Rackstraw in Mayfair, 
 where she had MO fellow lodgers. On the morning after Mrs. Der- 
 went's reception, that quiet house in Holford Street was a quiet 
 house no more, and the door remained chronically open. But to 
 the visitors, one and all philanthropic, commercial, religious; 
 tradesmen, speculators, and lion-hunters, the same answer was 
 returned by the foreign servant in plain clothes " Madam did not 
 receive that day, and was fatigued." The visitors only had for 
 their pains the view of an ordinary London entrance passage, and 
 the power to say that they had left a card on royalty. 
 
 But Dr. Rackstraw had evidently the petite as well as the 
 grande entrte : and he was instantly admitted, without even the 
 trouble of enquiring if Madam received. Sophy's heart beat : for 
 though the Doctor had by main force, as it were, taken possession 
 of her faith, she felt as if she were entering a lion's den. She 
 followed him up the rather dark stairs, and presently found her- 
 self in a rather gaudily but not uncomfortably furnished drawing- 
 room, evidently arranged for tenants of wealth or rank, but with- 
 out any special sort of character. 
 
 " You had better sit down," said Dr. Rackstraw, " and when the 
 Senhora enters, don't try to pay her royal honour. She is incognita, 
 you know but of course if you bring in your Majesty once or 
 twice, as if by accident, you will do yourself no harm. Don't be 
 afraid, dear Miss Fane. . . . Ah here she comes." 
 
 Sophy's heart could no*, help beating a little as she became 
 aware of the entrance of a wonderfully graceful woman, exquisitely 
 dressed, into the room. "Madam," said Dr. Rackstraw, "this 
 young lady the daughter of an old friend is willing to take the 
 post of your Majesty's secretary. You could not do better than 
 accept her services, if I may venture to advise."
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 185 
 
 " Indeed ? " asked Her Majesty, with a gracious smile that made 
 Sophy feel as if the sun had suddenly begun to shine. This a 
 savage, indeed ? Sophy, always impressed by the nature of the 
 moment, seemed to feel her heart drawn to the lady, scarcely oldei 
 than herself, who had such a voice and such a smile. "She will 
 be an admirable secretary, no doubt but if she means to answer 
 all my letters, she will have to work hard. Two hundred and 
 seventeen letters, printed and written, all in one day ! Well I 
 shall have two secretaries : this young lady, and the fire : and I 
 think the fire will have the most to do. How many wine mer- 
 chants are there in London, Dr. Rackstraw ? I shall have an 
 advertisement that I drink only lemonade. Pray sit down. Oh, 
 what an evening last night ! I am tired." 
 " I thought you would be pleased." 
 
 " Pleased ? I was not pleased. In my country, we meet to 
 rest, and to amuse ourselves : we sit down always, and all do just 
 what we please. With you we had to stand and talk talk talk : 
 my head aches still. How can one talk with nothing to say ? 
 And you all had nothing to say, except ask stupid questions 
 which is rude. I am not going again to a company like that. I 
 do not like my head to ache, or to breathe and smell pah ! Would 
 you mind leaving me a few minutes with this young lady alone ? " 
 Dr. Rackstraw bowed, and retired, with a glance towards Sophy 
 to give her courage. 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked the Queen. 
 " My name ? " stammered Sophy. " Oh Gray : Sophia Gray." 
 " Sophia Sophy ? " asked the Q.ueen, starting. 
 " Sophy is the short for Sophia, Madam." 
 " I know, I will call you Sophy, then, Miss Gray. I like the 
 name," she said, with a deep sigh. " And I like you. You are 
 not like those horrible women 1 saw last night. And mind, I 
 don't engage you on Dr. Rackstraw's word. I engage you because 
 because 1 please. I shall not be a troublesome mistress, Miss 
 Gray. Give me your hand." 
 
 Sophy touched the beautiful f hand, and bent her lips over it, 
 remembering that its beauty was a Queen's. 
 
 N _not my hand ! " cried Her Majesty. " I like you- f wai/ 
 you to like me. Kiss my lips " 
 
 And before Sophy could frame a wondering thought, the ,mpuk 
 sive savage had thrown her arms round her neck, and her cheek 
 was wet with tears that were not her own.
 
 186 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " Bnt of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, thou shalfc not cat of It : 
 for in the Day that thou eatest thereof thou ehalt sorely die." 
 
 I HAVE not thought it worth while to insult my readers by 
 the formal information that Rosamond Fane had returned 
 to England Queen of Apahu. I only say so now because 
 the passing months have made it more than possible that some 
 among them may have forgotten the very existence of Rosamond 
 Fane. Indeed, who had not, save Oswald ? For her uncle was 
 dead, and to her sister she belonged to an ancient dreamland : and 
 as to Crossmarsh, dozens of births, marriages, and deaths have 
 been written over the story of how .Hosamond Fane had thrown 
 herself over the cliff in a brain fever. Nine days is the period 
 for wonder : and this was nine years. 
 
 Or rather it was nearer ten since the child of fifteen had been 
 taken up suddenly from such a home as Crossmarsh (whence she 
 had never been ten miles distant in her life) as it were up into the 
 clouds, and dropped straight therefrom upon an unknown shore 
 in the South Seas. That is perhaps the only adventure on record 
 for which the whole world and all time may be defied to furnish 
 a fellow the one absolutely new thing that there has ever been 
 under the sun. She had just vanished without a trace from the 
 safest and quietest of English homes : and had woke out of a 
 nightmare well, in Apahu : an island of which the most learned 
 geographer had never heard. Let that be matched in human 
 experience if it can. And yet the process had not a grain of 
 magic in it from first to last ; but, on the contrary, taken step by 
 step, contains no more unlikelihood than the things that are 
 always happening to us or around us, every day. 
 
 But to her, who till now had known no wonders greater than 
 sunrise and spring, the immediate pass had seemed such a chaos 
 of wonders that nothing could well seem wonderful any more It 
 was to her literally as if she had been lifted up into the sky by a 
 giant hand and dropped again at' random. She lay passively upon 
 the deliciously warm sand, upon which the caprice of the waves 
 had tossed her without hurt or pain. Perhaps, thought she, she 
 was dying or dead, and this was the threshold of the world of 
 souls. Perhaps Sophy and Uncle ^Eneas were standing round her 
 bed, watching the parting of spirit from clay which is as likely
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. jg 7 
 
 to be pleasant as not, if \ve only knew. Of course she felt -weak, 
 and her brain seemed to have done with thinking: but her 
 lang-uor felt like the presage of infinite rest, and her senses 
 were bathed in an atmosphere of heavenly fragrant balm. And 
 surely those two perfect children, unspoiled by a rag of mortal 
 clothes, who stood gazing at her, hand in hand, with the eyes of 
 fawns, must be the angels of the threshold if only it were 
 credible that the Cherubim have coffee-coloured skins. 
 
 Happily for this shuttlecock of destiny, it was not among the 
 traditions of Apahu to treat a stranger in any of the methods 
 accepted among the countries which Dr. Rackstraw counted 
 civilised the savages neither heaved bricks at her, nor mobbed 
 her, nor invited her to dinner to see how she would feed. But 
 they had their superstitions, for they were human : and the sight 
 of a supremely beautiful girl, cast up as if by a miracle from 
 the holy sea, speaking in unknown tongues, and of the complexion 
 of sunshine, overcame the whole country with awe. She was a 
 gift from the elements: and these islanders, in their ignorance, 
 had no experience of any gifts straight from nature that were not 
 divine. From the very beginning there was no doubt of Rosa- 
 mond's social position in Apahu. Nature had written " Queen " 
 upon her so that all eyes could read : and when the priests of an 
 unknown God consecrated her to empire, they did but translate 
 the language of nature into their own. 
 
 It was an ideal kingdom. There were no wars no seditions 
 no parties no crimes. There Avas not even poverty. A child of 
 five years old could have ruled the island of Apahu. The people 
 were as gentle as their climate, and not a philosopher among 
 them dreamed of doubting that their complex and ancient system 
 of ethics was as much a law of nature as life and death were. 
 They were saturated with ceremonials and symbolisms, but they 
 observed them as unconsciously as they breathed, or as children, 
 who have no friends beyond their own nursery, take for granted 
 the unwritten laws of their little world. Or rather as children, 
 if civilised children were as childlike as the heathen savages of 
 Apahu. Yet their minds were as quick as lightning to observe, 
 and to reason after their manner, and their untainted health made 
 life itself an all-sufficient pleasure, without the help of invention. 
 They had their faults, as even their new Queen could see they 
 could not imagine that man has any higher mission than to take 
 life as he finds it, to get the utmost good out of it, and to leave
 
 188 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 it none the worse for his having been born. A brain with 
 centuries of Europe in it, could not fall into this view of thing's, 
 though that brain was but a girl's. In truth, the new Queen's was 
 the only burdened brain and sorrowful heart in Apahu. AVhat 
 wore the perfect climate, the fragrant air, even the human worship 
 and kindness, to her who was pining and wearying for the grey 
 skies and angry rocks of Crossmarsh, for the perfume of homo, and 
 for those whose hearts she had left to break with suspense and 
 sorrow ? She could not even get the utmost good out of evil to 
 speak only in unknown tongues is to be deaf and dumb. How- 
 ever, she shared one grand quality with her subjects Health, and 
 therefore Hope: and she could not tell that she was in a sea 
 whither no ship ever came. Sooner or later, release must come : 
 and with all her bodily needs amply supplied, she took to thinking. 
 And the first fruits of her thoughts were that, even at the worst, 
 she was the worst Christian in the island if she did not give 
 grateful thanks every day of her life for her wonderful preserva- 
 tion. The second, that she was almost the worst if she did not 
 take to heart the lesson that she was no less cared for than the 
 sparrows of the air and the lilies of the field. The third, that 
 thanks are to be rendered in deeds, not thoughts or words. She 
 had to choose between two things, and only two rebellious 
 despair, and the acceptance of life on whatever conditions it had 
 been given : and the latter so it seemed to a young woman whose 
 brains were English meant the further acceptance of some sort 
 of duty. All her system of theology, such as it was, would be 
 overturned if all that had happened to her was without a reason 
 as well as a cause : for the logic of doubt had not reached Cross- 
 marsh at that time. And what was the obvious work for a 
 Christian English girl in a heathen laud ? Clearly to bring these 
 forgotten sheep into her own fold. 
 
 The language came to her, at first stawly, then rapidly, as 
 a language always does when one is compelled to use it to escape 
 from being deaf and dumb. But it was unwritten, while the 
 young Queen was no grammarian: and, in addition to these 
 essential and accidental difficulties, she found it barren in words 
 to express even her elementary theology. So long as she talked 
 to the ladies of court out of the Sermon on the Mount, foi 
 example, everything was plain sailing, until she was hopelessly 
 thrown out by the absolute incapacity of the Apahuic mind 
 1 to understand what was meant by doing wrong not to epeak
 
 A REAL QUEEN. l8 g 
 
 of sin. What was worse, she could not discover that anything 
 was ever done that would have been called wrong in Apahu. 
 The absence of words essential to all theology was due to the 
 absence of the corresponding things. Once, indeed, a brilliant 
 thought struck her. She imagined the case of a person who 
 should slay a sea-bird, that being regarded as a consecrated 
 creature, to serve for her first lesson in the difference between 
 good and evil. The coffee-coloured Eve, upon whom she tried tne 
 experiment, hung down her head, said not a single word, and, 
 at the end of the lesson, crept away with her face buried in 
 her hands. The girl was a chatterbox : and yet, when Rosamond 
 next met her, she maintained the same dead silence, and the next 
 time, and the next, as if she had been suddenly struck dumb. 
 Not only so, but none, even of her own kindred, spoke a word 
 to the poor creature, who went about in melancholy plight as 
 if she were impure. Rosamond addressed her; but in vain. 
 She questioned others, equally in vain. Not till the first glimpse 
 of the second new moon that followed did she recover her speech : 
 nor till then was the too zealous missionary allowed to learn 
 that the girl " had heard words not to be spoken : but she has 
 forgotten them now." 
 
 " Then what should happen to the one who speaks such words ? " 
 asked the Queen of the old priest who had placed the sceptre 
 in her hands, and was supposed to know everything. " Surely it 
 is the tongue, not the ear which is to blame." 
 
 " The tongue would not speak if the ear did not listen," said 
 the patriarch of Apahu. " The Queen's words are always wise, 
 and may be spoken but they must not be heard." 
 
 Such logic was unanswerable. She could not adopt Mr. 
 Pitcairn's plan of converting her people with her fists : and 
 yet there seemed no other means. She had to content herself with 
 the practical theology of doing her duty in the state of life to 
 which she had been called : and even this was difficult, seeing that 
 there was so little to be done. Unconsciously to herself, the 
 atmosphere of this island of innocence sank into her own spirit, 
 and dulled even her memories of other times. She also began to 
 forget that there was another world beyond the sea in which 
 human life was a battle, and in sin and sorrow were something 
 much more than names. Her very soul fell asleep, and even 
 forgot to wonder whether it were dead or alive. 
 
 But one day, while wandering with two of her maids of honour
 
 igo A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 along the sands, she saw what Deemed to set her whole heart on 
 fire. It was what looked at first like a purple cloud. But her 
 eyes soon made out that it was land. Now air and light will 
 play such tricks now and then, and reveal across deserts of sea or 
 sand the phantoms of invisible hills and streams. Fata Morgana 
 was doubtless playing one of her tricks now. Never had the 
 Queen of Apahu seen the sign of a distant shore or heard of such 
 a sight having been given to the oldest or farthest reaching eyes. 
 And yet this could be no fancy so complete was the mirage that 
 she could make out the shape of the cliffs, and even the masses of 
 foliage above them and the white foam at their feet. She reached 
 out both her arms, and, as her ladies' eyes followed hers, there 
 came into view a nest of white huts with whiter sails slowly pass- 
 ing them. There was nobody in Apahu to scatter her vision by 
 a lecture on the laws of light : and presently she was surrounded 
 bv what was called a crowd in that country, all more full of wonder 
 than she. As she stood with outstretched arms towards the re- 
 velation of her own world, she looked as if spreading out her wings 
 to fly and ah, why had nature denied her wings ? Nor did the 
 vision pass till the sun went down with tropical swiftness : and 
 then it remained in her dreams. For she dreamed she was at home, 
 and fifteen years old. 
 
 There was nothing contrary to the laws of Apahu since the 
 case was without precedent in this summons to their Queen to 
 return for a season to the unknown world whence she had come. 
 Where there was no tradition to the contrary, the royal will was 
 law : and, moreover she had the privileges belonging to a mystery. 
 The matter was laid before the sacred college (I must manage 
 with English terms as best I can) and Rosamond's old priest, her 
 especial counsellor, found himself in a minority of one. It was 
 with sorrow that he brought her the tidings that, since she willed 
 it, she must go. " I am an old man," said he, " I, also, am on the 
 eve of my voyage back to that other world whence we all came. 
 But old as I am, I, nor my father before me, though he lived to 
 six score years, ever saw what you have shown us, even in a 
 dream. It fills me with dread that we, with living eyes, have 
 seen the land that lies beyond the grave. We have seen tilings 
 not to be seen. What should this forbode to living souls ? " It 
 was thus that the Queen learned, for the first time, that Apahu 
 regarded itself as the entire world, bounded by an infinite sea ; 
 and that her subjects believed her about to pass that ocean while
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. I 9I 
 
 still alive. And why not, when she had already crossed it full- 
 grown. 
 
 " It is not for the old to teach the young," said her priest, sadly 
 and humbly. " You are fresh from where you are going I came 
 from it as a child, and have long ago forgotten its wavs. But I 
 heard from my father, who heard it from his, and he from his 
 fathers, that Apahu is blessed because its name has never been 
 named to the evil spirits who live beyond the sea. Who they are 
 I know not : only I tremble. I have guessed there is evil, for I 
 have learned there is pain. I dread to think what ruler next may 
 be sent us from the sea." 
 
 " But I shall learn all that the other world has to teach," said 
 the Queen, " and all that I learn I shall be able to teach again. 
 Do you think I will not return ? Do I not love my people the 
 gentlest, kindest, best, that ever were known ? Do I not owe you 
 all more than I can ever repay ? God has made me your Queen 
 God forbid that I should give up my crown to one who must 
 needs love you all less than I ! Only now I must go. In that 
 other world I have a sister kindred friends. I shall find those 
 who will teach me what I am hungering and thirsting to teach my 
 people, and know not how. I shall come back and it will not 
 be long." 
 
 She was burning to start for those white huts and white sails 
 which, though now become invisible, could not possibly be unat- 
 tainable, since they had been seen. But she had passed those years 
 of growth in her island during which a child becomes a woman : 
 and this under influences which had made her one with the people 
 among whom she had been thrown. Crossmarsh, with its blank 
 life of solitary fancies, had left a clear page whereon Apahu might 
 be written large, with nothing to erase or to confuse the letters. 
 For all those years she had not been brought in contact with an 
 English thought, or heard an English word. She had learned to 
 dream even with a new tongue : and the silent power of Goodness 
 had enveloped her till, though unknowingly, she was spoiled for 
 this common life of ours which indeed, save in her own fancies, 
 she had never known. She hungered for home, but it never 
 entered her head to become an escaped prisoner, and to throw 
 off the duties which belonged to her as a Queen. She had made 
 friends she had imperceptibly learned to think their thoughts, 
 and to make their ways hers. Of course she would return, and in 
 such wise as to reward her people for their If ve a thousand-folc 1 *
 
 192 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 She belived that Rosamond Fane of Crossmarsh, and Queen 
 Ngahoung of Apahu, were still one and the same : and that while 
 she had been changing from a child into a woman, all her old 
 world had been standing still. 
 
 She was longing for the return of her childhood ; to see again 
 the same flowers in the old garden, and to amaze Sophy with her 
 reappearance from the grave. Nevertheless it was a sad as well 
 as a solemn moment, when, the centre of a great, incomprehensible 
 mystery, herself the mystery of mysteries, she stepped from the 
 shore, in the sight of all her people into the great canoe which 
 was to bear her across the world-encircling sea. She wore the 
 consecrated jewels, rubies, and emeralds, and the circle out of 
 which she stepped was formed of chief priests and judges in their 
 robes of white, yellow, or crimson silk, of jewelled nobles, and of the 
 ladies of the land. There were neither applauding shouts, nor tears. 
 It was the will of the Queen, whose words were the oracle of 
 fate, and awe silenced the voice of sorrow. She was about, without 
 dying, to pass over the waters of life and death, which she alone had 
 already passed without having been born. Twelve men, chosen 
 by lot from the best mariners of the country, were to carry the 
 royal canoe to the invisible shore. Not one, though bound upon 
 so marvellous an adventure, betrayed a sign of doubt or of fear. In- 
 deed no Apahuic was ever troubled with doubt of any kind ; and 
 they trusted their Queen as their mother, children that they were. 
 Indeed, there was no visible sentiment among them all but pride, 
 that this adventure had been trusted by destiny to their hands; 
 and envy must have been found on the shore if such a serpent had 
 been known in Apahu. 
 
 The voyage of the ship Argo the first voyage of Columbus 
 the voyage of Queen Ngahoung : these three, each in its way, are 
 the wonder voyages of the world. Faith was the grand element 
 in the third. When the next sun rose, and the horizon was still 
 as clear of land as it was of clouds, the Queen's heart sank a little ; 
 but her sailors' hearts were as stout as at starting. One does not 
 travel from this world to the other in a day. They had seen the 
 vision of the shore, and therefore knew which way to sail, and 
 the wind seemed to know it too, for it set steadily to the same 
 path, though not so strongly as to quarrel with the sea. Their 
 unflinching faith gave their Queen hope : and on the morning of 
 the fifth day they saw land no mirage : and in the evening ran 
 ashore. The- Queen landed : her sailors kissed her hands and her
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 193 
 
 feet, and sailed back for Apahu, to tell how they had touched the 
 shore of the world of Souls and had returned alive. 
 
 But the country did not go into mourning for its Queen. She 
 had said she would return : and words, even when promises, were 
 sacred in Apahu. Only the Queen's old priest fell into a lethargy, 
 wherein he spoke no Words but these " It is the End." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 I thought me free as thoughts are free, 
 
 Or dreams of love that's past and o'er, 
 Nor feared I e'er again should see 
 
 That shadow on the floor. 
 
 Yet who may hide his days so deep 
 
 For foes to find ? When dread was slain, 
 And memory's self had fall'n asleep, 
 
 The shadow came again. 
 
 OSWALD HARG RAVE'S business at Laxham proved to be 
 more complicated even than he had feared. His letter to 
 Sophy but poorly represented the state into which a mad 
 trustee, of reputed and unquestioned sanity, had contrived to bring 
 them. With the aid of the lawyer, however, he contrived to clear 
 up the business so far as to learn that Uncle ./Eneas had, with the 
 aid of Sophy's signature whenever it was required, been invest- 
 ing her whole capital, and even whatever could be raised on mort- 
 gage or otherwise, in a mass of worthless and unsaleable rubbish 
 all for her benefit of course, but not the less to her ruin. With a 
 cunning that must have grown with the growth of his craze, he 
 had from time to time employed at least a dozen lawyers, so as to 
 avoid the disagreeable necessity of having to hear good advice : 
 while his own estate, which his mismanagement had rendered 
 liable to his ward's, was simply nil. 
 
 There was certainly no reason why Oswald should consider 
 himself answerable to one of two sisters simply because nine or 
 ten years ago he had wished to marry the other. But his con- 
 science had always been a jealous tyrant ; and it told him that if 
 he had not been spending all those years upon the pursuit of what 
 he alone would not call a Phantom, he would have seen what was 
 going on, and Rosamond's sister would have been an heiress still. 
 " After all, dare / call JEneas Fane a madman ? " he thought. 
 " It is what men would call me if they knew. If I could only 
 be sure she is dead ! but then I know that Lawrence Derwent 
 
 13
 
 194 A REAL QUEEy. 
 
 lives : it is too late for thinking now. After ten years, one must 
 go on to the end. If I am mad well, mad I must be." 
 
 But it did not strike him as a sign of madness that he should 
 impoverish himself for Rosamond's sister's sake, though she had 
 no more claim upon him than what he chose to imagine. And 
 Indeed there was a time at least so we teach ourselves to believe 
 when nobody would have called him mad: when a knight who 
 devoted his life to find or avenge a lady, and to punish a villian, 
 would have had poems made in his honour. And after all, when I 
 come to think of it, I cannot bring myself to decide that Oswald 
 Ilargrave's purpose was much less foolish, or even much more 
 barren, than the ordinary purposes of life which are accepted as 
 sane. No doubt he might have made a fortune, or written a book 
 or whatever else it might be, with half the labour: but then to 
 his mind Rosamond was better worth seeking than a fortune 
 which she could not share, and as for books well, living a book 
 is as good as writing one, any day, and moreover he had no 
 vanity, except in what consisted in finishing whatever he had 
 happened to begin. As it was, there was only one book wanting 
 to the world the only book that he needed; the book that 
 should have told him of Apahu. 
 
 Having, so far as was possible at present, arranged preliminaries 
 with the lawyers at Laxham, subject to Sophy's approval which 
 no doubt would be given, he was able, on his way back to town 
 to return to the subject of Silver Moldwarp, in connection with 
 Lawrence Derwent, and to the means by which he might render 
 available that shadow of a clue. That still baffled him, and for 
 the same reasons which had before raised up a fatal objection to 
 every course he had been able to think of. He went out of his 
 way to pass the book-shop on his way to his hotel it was still 
 there, but as unsuggestive as ever. If only he had a friend to 
 whom he could give his whole confidence, and who had both the 
 time and the craft, to act for him as a detective, much might 
 be done: but if Moldwarp was in the interest of the escaped 
 convict, Oswald's personal enquiries would only serve to put the 
 rascal on his guard. And he had no desire for the help of law or 
 police in hunting down Lawrence Derwent, though it would have 
 been at service, seeing that the man was a felon who had broken 
 gaol. But, if Rosamond were to be found, live or dead, Oswald 
 must get the felon under his own personal power the law might 
 "nave him when he had been used and thrown away. So far as
 
 A HEAL QUEEZ. I9S 
 
 the purpose of his life was concerned, the time spent over Sophy's 
 business had been clean thrown away. 
 
 He was just about starting for Richmond Place, when he re- 
 ceived a letter from the lawyer at Laxham, enclosing another letter 
 which had been addressed to him there and had arrived immediately 
 after his departure. The address was in Sophy's hand-writing. 
 " An answer to mine, I suppose but there was no occasion for 
 that," thought he. But when he had read it" What in the 
 
 name of all perverse folly is the meaning of this ? Rackstraw 
 
 Miss Gray companion and secretary to an outlandish Queen ? 
 What is Rackstraw, that he should meddle with her affairs and 
 mine ? This will never do." 
 
 So, instead of walking at his leisure to Richmond Place, in 
 order to think out the great complication, he drove straight to 
 Mayfair, and arrived just as another visitor had knocked and was 
 waiting at the door. He recognised the man from Nevada : and 
 he was also recognised, for his fellow visitor gave him a careless 
 nod of half acquaintance, accompanied by a smile which seemed 
 to convey some special meaning. " So you have found your way 
 here, too ?" asked he. "Oh, 1 remember you are a traveller 
 Is the Senhora at home ? Does she receive ? " he asked, as the 
 door was opened. 
 
 " Is Miss Fane here ? " asked Oswald. 
 
 "The Senhora is at home, Mr. Harding/'' said the groom of 
 the chambers respectfully, to the first enquiry. "Miss Fane ? 
 No Miss Fane lives here." 
 
 " I beg pardon I mean Miss Gray," said Oswald, as the man 
 from Nevada entered before him. 
 
 " Oh, yes Miss Gray ! She is with Madam." 
 
 And so Oswald, dimly groping for such clue as Silver Mold- 
 warp's fingers might just possibly hold, all unconsciously entered 
 the very centre of the maze. 
 
 " What you have seen of the world ! " Rosamond was saying 
 to her secretary. " It is wonderful and you so young. Why, 
 you must know everthing. You ought to be the queen of my 
 poor people, instead of me. And do you know England as well 
 as you know all those places abroad ? " 
 
 " I know very little of England, Madam," said Sophy. " Very 
 little indeed." 
 
 " Did I not tell you never to call me ' Madam ' again ? Well, 
 we shall both know more of England very soon. I am going on 
 
 13 A
 
 196 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 a journey and indeed I shall be glad, for London is a horror ; not 
 at all what I expected. I can hardly breathe. But still of course 
 it is London that I must look for what I want all the goodness, 
 and the wisdom, and the science that I must carry back with me, 
 when I go. Do you like London? " 
 
 " No," said Sophy with a sigh. " It is the only place where I 
 have ever known sorrow and but that is ungrateful. I ain glad 
 to be in your service. You don't seem like a mistress : you seem 
 like a friend." 
 
 " Seem ? No. I am. The minute I knew your name, I knew 
 we should be friends. Oh, I wish you could see my country I 
 had forgotten, I didn't know, I mean, that England was so dark 
 and so close, and the people so gloomy and grave. And then the 
 poor who suffer, and the rich who do not help the poor my dear 
 child, I sometimes wonder if after all my people could get much 
 good from youss. There is religion, of course but I wonder if 
 it is wrong to think that people who live up to their own, and 
 never do wrong, are best left alone. Oh, it is a dreadful responsi- 
 bility to be a Queen. I wish you could see my country with its 
 earth-like paradise and its skies like heaven, and its people, all as 
 beautiful as angels, and as wise as little children are ! You mustn't 
 judge of them by me. I am full of doubts, and wants, and sorrows : 
 I have thoughts for which they have no words. Do you think it 
 would be best for them if I were never to go back to them again ? " 
 
 It was the lioness asking advice of the mouse. " I think, Madam," 
 said Sophy timidly, " I think your people have a great and a good 
 queen. But oh, if they are heathens ! " she exclaimed, forgetting 
 that the Senhora must needs be a heathen too " Of course they 
 must be taught all that you must find some clergyman who will 
 tell you what to do " 
 
 " I have seen dozens," said Rosamond sadly. " After I was seen 
 at the Derwents', they used to come and advise me every day. 
 They all talked very well, but none of them seemed to understand. 
 And then they all wanted me to have my people converted to dif- 
 ferent things : and out of every dozen the twelfth said that the 
 eleven others were wrong " 
 
 " But religion is religion," said Sophy. "Any sort if it was Chris- 
 tian, would be better than none." 
 
 "Dear child do you know that my people have lived in faith, 
 hope, and charity for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years ? 
 "Will they and their fathers and their children be condemned for
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 197 
 
 knowing no better than to be content with these just because, 
 being blind to the darkness, they have been blind to the light too ? 
 I dread to bring among them the doubt, the terror of death, the 
 want of charity, that I find here everywhere. Let it be my fault 
 that they are left blind. My sin will not be visited on them. If 
 I refuse to let them know the truth, it win* be my sin not theirs." 
 
 This was a flight far and far beyond Sophy, who had never until 
 this moment been taken into confidence by a heroine, who had 
 learned from her queendom to place the good of her people before 
 even her own soul. It was a new experience for the girl to hear 
 right and wrong, sin and duty, and the relations of sovereign, Church, 
 and people, treated, not as matters for books and sermons, but as 
 real, practical things as real, and of more intense moment, than 
 going to market even. 
 
 " But enough of that," said Rosamond, with a sudden smile 
 though rather sad for all its sweetness, as if it were a confession 
 that she had rather wasted her confidence upon her new friend. 
 " I retract my wish that you were a queen. Tell me about your- 
 self rather. You are an orphan like me ? " 
 : " Yes my father and mother both died, when I was quite a 
 child." 
 
 " So did mine but I can just remember my mother, though not 
 her dying. Have you brothers ? Sisters ? " 
 
 " I have no brother. I had a sister once but she died." 
 
 " You are indeed alone ! But how came you to know Dr. Rack- 
 straw ? " 
 
 "He has been a very kind friend and in bringing me to you, 
 more kind than I can say. Do you know, I can hardly believe 
 that you come from an unknown country, so far away ? And you 
 are nearly as fair as I." 
 
 "And you don't think me very much like a heathen 
 savage?" 
 
 " Oh, Madam I You know I think you the loveliest woman in 
 the world ! " 
 
 " I am glad of that, my child ! I want to give a good impression 
 of my people ; for I love them and am proud of them I never 
 knew how much till I came away. Do you know, I am half glad 
 you are so alone ? For perhaps you will go back with me when I 
 go. I want also to give a good impression of your people to mine. 
 All the others here are so ugly, and are not gentle, as mine are, at 
 all. Of course, Dr. Rackstraw is a man of genius but I should
 
 198 A REAL QUEEJT. 
 
 hardly like to take him as a specimen: he is not exactly beautiful. 
 How would you like to come ? " 
 
 " Madam," said Sophy, " there is nothing I would like better in 
 the world ! I hate England. I should like to leave it, and never 
 see it again." 
 
 " Now what does that mean ?" asked Rosamand, smiling through 
 a mist in her eyes at Sophy's flushed cheeks and eager tone. " You 
 must neither bring hate with you, nor call me Madam, if you are 
 to come with me. I love England love her, though her face is all 
 frown while my island's is all sunlight and smile. And I mean to 
 love this dear, old, ugly England yet more. But, though I love it 
 ever so much, my people are my people : they must always come 
 first with me first of all! I shall have to go back, at least for a 
 while and so it is settled you will come too. Ah, you will nc t 
 hate England when you have been away for a year. You wilJ 
 hunger for the sight of her very ugliness " 
 
 "But indeed I would not I want to go to your country where 
 people do not only pretend to be friends, until one is poor. . . . 
 But one would think you were English ! It is very " 
 
 " Strange ? Not at all. If you were only a little browner and 
 a little taller you would pass for one of my people very well. And 
 you shall be one, since you wiH. You shall wear this Qahoung 
 Ruby : that means you are one of my people now ; and- my friend. 
 Now, kiss the hand of your Queen." 
 
 Sophy pressed her lips to those forgotten fingers, and the forgotten 
 lips touched her brow. 
 
 "Mistare Harding for the Senhora!" announced the Swiss. 
 " And a gentleman to see Miss Gray." 
 
 Rosamond's eyes, close to Sophy's face, saw the girl's face colour 
 yet more quickly than before and a startled look in her eyes. In 
 love affairs, Rosamond was a nun. But nuns know how to read, 
 and the language of love was not among the things that were 
 unknown in Apahu. " Are you so sure you hate England ? " 
 whispered she. " Are you sure I am not punished for my greedi- 
 ness in being glad you have no friends but me ? .... Let 
 me see I think Mr. Harding comes to talk business : I will see 
 him here. You had better see your friend in the parlour, Miss 
 Gray. He may have business too." 
 
 Poor Sophy felt stricken with shame. She knew that her tell- 
 tale colour, so terribly out of season, had betrayed the hope and 
 fear of her heart that her nameless visitor would prove to be her
 
 A PEAL QUEEN. 199 
 
 false friend and lover, whom she had vowed [never to see again. 
 Who else should seek her out, and, find her, despite her change of 
 name ? It might be that he would be able to explain her pride 
 and her suspicion might have wronged him, after all. So she put 
 on an air of ice, and the man from Nevada, who passed her on the 
 stairs with a bow, was experimented upon by a half curtsey charged 
 with frozen dignity. But her heart was beating as it had never 
 beaten before : and, when she entered'the parlour, it turned to real, 
 not make-belief, frost, at the sight of Oswald Hargrave the best 
 and truest friend that she had in the world: and that without 
 knowing that it was he to whom the apparent desertion of Horace 
 was wholly due. 
 
 " What in heaven's name is the meaning of all this, Sophy ? " 
 asked he, for his first word. " I arrange the best of plans for you 
 I am doing everything that can be done and I find you in this 
 strange service, under a false name. Here is your letter. What 
 in heaven's name does it mean ? " 
 
 " I know you are very, very kind. . . . But only think,, 
 Oswald what could I do ? I can't take your money. I can't in- 
 deed. Of course Crossmarsh must be sold, and that is the only way 
 for the debts to be paid. Just think, Oswald you have been 
 spending all you have for poor Rosamond's sake : the living must 
 not join the dead in wasting all your means. I am proud I will 
 earn my own bread, since I can : yes, and with comfort and ease. 
 Indeed I have done well better than well." 
 
 " But you must not be proud, Sophy. A fine sort of fellow I 
 should be, while seeking Her, to let her sister serve er starve. 
 Why have you changed your name ? " 
 
 " That's because I am proud too. And it's because because 
 well, because I thought it best : and Dr. Rackstraw thought so 
 too. It was he, you know, who introduced me to the Queen the 
 Senhora, I should say." 
 
 " Dr. Rackstraw ! What can a stranger know of what you 
 ought to do ? " 
 
 " Poor uncle's most intimate friend? " 
 
 " My dear girl don't think I mean to be cross with you. But 
 I know the world at least most of it ; and I have learned two 
 things. . One is to trust a woman's first impression of a man. 
 The second is to distrust the man who flatters another's craze 
 You took an instinctive dislike to Dr. Rackstraw at first eight : 
 lesson number one. Dr. Rackstraw flattered your uncle to the 
 top of his bent, pretending to love books with which the result
 
 200 A REAL Ql'KEX. 
 
 shows he knew nothing. And for this he must have had a motive : 
 lesson number two. I distrust Dr. Rackstraw because you did, 
 and you must, Sophy, because I do." 
 
 " Oswald ! I never knew you unjust before. Yes you are 
 unjust. Is a man to be condemned for ever because some silly 
 girl thinks him awkward and without manners ? Why, where 
 would you all be ? "What has Dr. Rackstraw to gain from me ? 
 He understood my pride at once he has warned me of my friends 
 and enemies he has been my friend even when he knew I was 
 poor he has found me a situation in a thousand 
 
 " As companion to a savage : to an adventuress, for aught you 
 know, though probably he knows " 
 
 " As friend to the loveliest and noblest woman I ever knew 
 yes, if you put it that way. Oh, Oswald, don't be ungenerous 
 unjust : that is not like you. If you could only see her : if you 
 could only hear her speak how she loves her people, and would 
 even sacrifice her immortal soul for their happiness : how gentle 
 she is, and how kind, and how wise " 
 
 " My dear, dear Sophy she may seem all that, and yet she 
 may be no fit companion for you. She comes, I understand 
 from the South Seas. Now a South Sea Islander, fresh from her 
 own home, does not talk English like a native, dress like a duchess, 
 and look a Venus from some Italian picture. If I must put it 
 plainly I am your brother, Sophy I believe her to be some half- 
 bred Portugese, clever, beautiful, accomplished as so many of 
 them are, whom Dr. Rackstraw has brought to England for ends 
 of his own. An unknown island ? Absurd ! But a woman like 
 that would be a grand bait for a company to explore non-exis- 
 tent ruby mines and you are too innocent to tell tales." 
 
 He knew that he was talking sound sense : but Sophy was fresh 
 from the influence some women have that of fascinating their 
 own sex no less, or rather more, than Oswald's. " You are saying 
 horrible things, Oswald," cried she. " She is my Queen : I will 
 not have her slandered, even by you. You shall see her ; you 
 shall judge if she's not even lovelier and nobler than I can say. 
 I know. Oh, Oswald believe that I am doing what is right I 
 must not be a burden on you : I can be of use to her." 
 
 " And when she returns to her Atlantis, her Utopia, or where- 
 ever her ruby mines may be ? " 
 
 " I am alone, Oswald. I have said I will go too." 
 
 Oswald paced the room silently. Then, " It is like witchcraft 1 **
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 1>ON 
 
 said he. " Why did Rackstraw force himself into your uncle's 
 confidence ? Why did he encourage him in his waste ? Why 
 did he seize tho first chance of bringing you into this woman's 
 service, under a false name ? I must get to the bottom of this 
 and I will : though my hands are overfull already, and my wits 
 over-burdened, Heaven knows. I am not hard, Sophy, nor un- 
 generous I hope, nor unjust I know. You are Her sister and 
 mine. A girl like you is the best of instruments in unscrupulous 
 hands, when they are playing a deep game. What end have I 
 but your good ? Who is this Rackstraw ? " 
 
 " Talk of the devil indeed ! " said the Doctor himself, who at 
 that moment opened the door. " Mr. Hargrave ? An unex- 
 pected pleasure. Perhaps I can answer that question better than 
 Miss Gray. I have been in countries ha ha ! where such a 
 question, in such a tone, would have had to be settled at some dozen 
 paces distance : but I am a missionary of civilisation, and duels, 
 being a survival of barbarism, are out of my line. Besides, 
 your question was perfectly natural, since you wanted to know. 
 I am Hermon Rackstraw, Doctor of Philosophy, Agent-General 
 for the Goblin Islands. You can see my credentials at my office, 
 if you have any business in that rising group, where land is still 
 to be had cheap with a moral certainty of being able to sell it at 
 fifty times the value in a very few years." 
 
 " Thanks," said Oswald, shortly. " I will call at your office 
 if you will let me know where it is, and name a time." 
 
 " Here is my card, Mr. Hargrave. You will find me any day, 
 this week, between two and four." 
 
 " Then Sophy good-bye for to-day. To-morrow, or next day 
 I will see you again. By that time you will have heard from 
 Laxham, about the sale. And in that matter you will be guided 
 by them and me." 
 
 And so he left her, as if in anger for which indeed he was 
 surely not without cause. Dr. Rackstraw stroked his smooth 
 chin in silence, while Sophy, her eyes swimming, listened to 
 Oswald's footsteps as they passed into distance with what she 
 took for an angry ring. 
 
 " Oh ! " said sbe, when she heard them no more. "What shall 
 I do to make my brother believe in my Queen ? If he had only 
 seen her and now he is gone." 
 
 " I am afraid very much afraid," said Dr. Rackstraw, " that 
 Mr. Hargrave does not approve of what you have done. Never
 
 202 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 mind, dear Miss Fane. We know that you have done wisely and 
 well. After all, that is the grand difficulty of doing right that 
 we can't make other people understand. It has been so with mo, 
 hundreds of times. You don't repent having done as you have 
 done ? " 
 
 " Not for a moment. And yet but you can't know what any- 
 thing like a quarrel with Oswald means." 
 
 " Indeed but I can. Do you think / can't understand every- 
 thing that concerns you ? Of course you could not take his 
 charity. He will see that for himself, in time. And you have 
 your place in the world. I heard quite enough, as I came in, and 
 afterwards, to see how the land lies, there. He mistrusts me 
 God knows why. But you do not ? " 
 
 " No indeed ! But that was not what distressed me so much 
 but he has got such dreadful ideas about the Senhora " 
 
 " Ah he thinks her an impostor, eh ? " 
 
 "What you heard?" 
 
 "Not a word. But I know what notions always come into 
 those dull, narrow minds. They never believe what they cannot 
 understand. They have no Faith, dear Miss Fane, like you and 
 me. I hope I have brought you into a wider and nobler life a 
 life worth the living. You must trouble your head about all 
 these trifles no more. We must leave them to the Ilargraves 
 and the Derwents the moles and the butterflies. We must soar." 
 
 " Ah you and the Senhora," sighed Sophy. " But I have no 
 wings." 
 
 " Then I have no eyes. By the way, I think I've cleared up 
 the mystery about our other friend young Derwent, you know. 
 He had a good reason for not coming after all." 
 
 "Indeed? Then !" 
 
 " Yes the best of all reasons. Mrs. Derwent his mother " 
 
 "Is she ill?" 
 
 " No tells me he is just engaged to a Miss Craven : that's all. 
 So of course, under the circumstances, one couldn't very well 
 erpect a young man to go about making morning calls. He lives 
 in a rapture, you know however, I'm glad to think it was only 
 that, and not what we supposed. No: one should never judge 
 harshly never. There's always some good, honest reason for 
 everything, if we only knew." 
 
 "Oh is that all?" 
 
 "That's all. It will be a good match, and will please his
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 203 
 
 mother: and I'm glad of it, for he's not a bad sort of a young 
 man." 
 
 " So am / glad very glad indeed ! Do you know how soon 
 the Senhora means to go home ? " 
 
 " Oh, not yet awhile. You needn't he afraid " 
 
 " I'm sorry you don't know, because I hoped it would be soon. 
 I am going with her " 
 
 " And you are impatient to see that wonderful island of hers ? 
 J ust so there, you see, grow your wings I But there's no hurry 
 why do you want to fly away ? " 
 
 " Because I do ! " said Sophy, keeping down a rising sob, to her 
 pain. " And that is all." 
 
 Her lover had the sense to see nothing, and to let her go with 
 no more than some common-place word. Indeed for that matter 
 he had not really seen everything : for though he had hurt her 
 heart with intent, he had no means of knowing the depth and 
 breadth of the wound. Of course she believed him. It was not 
 as if Horace were her betrothed, of whom it would be against 
 her duty to believe what might by the remotest possibility 
 be a lie. Dr. Rackstraw was the family confidant, she knew, 
 and what he had said could not possibly be wrong : besides, he 
 himself had been treated unjustly by Oswald, and her sympathy, 
 and her sense of justice, as well as her gratitude, were all on his 
 side. Why should not Horace have been all the time engaged 
 to another girl ? Some men cannot help flirting idiot that she 
 had been, to fancy that it was more than his way, and that his 
 visits had meant anything more than an easy way of killing 
 time! And a "good" match that meant that ~h\& jiancte was 
 rich while Sophy was poor: and not even the exaltation of a 
 lover could excuse a gentleman for taking no notice of the death 
 of a friend, and for shaking off, as if she were the dust that had 
 gathered on his feet, the only creature whom that friend had 
 left, ruined and alone. She did not even seek the solitude of 
 her own room to let her last sob free, and to recover her lost 
 pride once for all. Not even so much debt was due to a dead 
 dream : nor would she give Horace the paltry triumph over her 
 of causing a single tear. She went straight to her mistress, for- 
 getting that the Queen was not alone. 
 
 This was not by any means the first visit of the man from 
 Nevada to Senhora Miranda. Rosamond rather liked him : and 
 the better the more she saw of him. He was agreeable,
 
 204 * SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 apparently unaffected, and, so far from wanting her portrait, or 
 her subscription, or her materials for books and articles, he 
 amused her by discussing her persecutors in a tone of semi-cynical 
 humour. On what pretence he had given himself a place in her 
 life she could not have told : he had stepped into it easily, and 
 as a matter of course, and altogether in such a manner, that it 
 never occurred to her to ask the question. Nor did it occur 
 to her to notice that he generally timed his visits, now increas- 
 ingly frequent, to such hours as gave him the least chance of com- 
 ing into collision with Dr. Rackstraw. Not that the latter, even 
 without the aid of a secretary of his own choosing, was likely to 
 be in the dark as to any of the Senhora's doings, or who came to 
 see her, and how often, and when. 
 
 But it propos of the secretary " So you have set up a com- 
 panion," he was saying, while Sophy was engaged with Oswald. 
 " And a very pretty girl she is though she swept past me 
 as if she were the Queen. Some friend of Rackstraw's, I 
 suppose ? ' 
 
 " No of mine." 
 
 "Of course it's all right you should have a maid of honour. 
 And I'm glad she's your own friend. Have you seen anything 
 of the what's their name Derwents lately ? Wonderful people 
 they are to be sure. But England 'is altogether a wonderful 
 place for people like you and me. If I'm not very wrong, you 
 won't be particularly sorry to go home. I sha'n't, I know." 
 
 "As to that yes, and no. But have you nothing to say 
 nothing to tell?" asked Rosamond patient in manner, but 
 impatient in tone. 
 
 "Well, yes. A good deal. The difficulty is to know where to 
 begin. Perhaps the best way will be to begin at the beginning," 
 said he, drawing his chair imperceptibly nearer, and laying his 
 right hand upon the table so that it might be within magnetic 
 distance of hers. " You will listen ? Well then I will go back 
 to the very beginning of all, so far as I need. Lightly as I 
 seem to take life, I am here in England to take vengeance for a 
 great wrong, and to extort justice under the very eyas of the 
 law I know that I am talking what would be called treason in 
 Apahu but never mind. England is not Apahu. I was driven 
 out of England by a cabal of scoundrels. I know them all : and 
 I trust to have them in my power. I come back rich richer a 
 hundred times than if I had had my rights at home. But my
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 205 
 
 riches are nothing to me until they have bought vengeauce and 
 justice : you have been long enough in England to understand 
 what I mean." 
 
 " Indeed I have ! " said Rosamond. " But what has all this to 
 do with " 
 
 "Everything." His voice commonly so dry and languid, fell 
 into a deep monotone, yet so soft that his words could hardly 
 have been followed farther off than Rosamond's ears. "For 
 some fifteen years I have lived for this that I have told you: 
 and a purpose grows into a man's life, and becomes himself, for 
 half that time. Until what seems like yesterday, I have been 
 ready for murder, if that should be the only means to my only 
 end. You see what sort of man I am : and I wish vou to see. 
 I want you to imagine how great the strength must be that is 
 greater than my life, and that makes me even me as if all I 
 have told you of had never been : that makes me ready to forget 
 it all. What kind of strength is that ? Can you tell ? " 
 
 Rosamond had drawn back. 
 
 " Repentance ? " said she. 
 
 "Repentance for having set myself to undo a vile wrong? 
 And you say that you, a woman ? You know as well as I." 
 
 " Then I do not choose to know," said the Queen, rising. 
 
 "Which means that you do know, whether you choose or 
 not," said the man from Nevada, rising too. "You know it 
 means that I love you and that I could not love you more if I 
 had known you for years. One does not learn how to make love, 
 in the mines. But one does learn that a man is a mate for a 
 Queen, and a Woman for a King, I offer you a Man, heart, and 
 body, and soul. Oh, how can one speak passion ? Look at me 
 see if I do not love you : let crowns be only the ghosts that they 
 are. Let us be real you and I." 
 
 He held out both his hands towards her : and the action, and 
 the tones of his voice, turned his rough words into living and 
 passionate things. Rosamond did indeed, without bidding, for- 
 get that she was a Queen. But her womanhood did not wake to 
 meet him: it only trembled with dismay. Passion like his she 
 had never seen. 
 
 " It is terrible ! " she breathed. " I do not love you and yoy 
 love me 1 What have I done ?" 
 
 " Never mind what you have done. You do not love me ? But 
 you can you will, Love like mine makes love or hate : nothing
 
 206 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 between. Do you wish me to turn back into my old path, and 
 live for revenge ? But what is the good of words ? I have 
 hidden myself from you all this while now I am what I am. 
 And I more than love you I want to save you, too. For God's 
 sake throw away that sham crown, that can only end in miserable 
 pain. Remember I love you without so much as knowing your 
 trust your nation your name. I love you like a madman. I 
 see a beautiful woman in league with a villain for some devilish 
 ends. And I only love her, for herself; and for her sake I 
 will let the villain go, and spare his dupes and his tools besides. 
 Do you understand what a man's love can mean now ? " 
 
 " No no : I do not understand. What ruin ? What villian ? 
 What crown ? Why do you say all this now ? Have you ceased 
 to be my friend ? " 
 
 " I say all this now, because it will be too late before long. 
 Before long unless you bid me spare him your accomplice will 
 be a ruined man. And, for yourself, the world is already 
 asking dangerous questions about Apahu, and its jewels, and its 
 Queen. Let me save you from evil love will come. My country 
 is real there you will be a Real Queen." 
 
 " Am I going mad ? " she cried. 
 
 " Yes if you refuse to be saved," he answered. " And there 
 is only one way and that is mine. I can give you everything 
 wealth, luxury, passionate love : everything the heart of woman 
 can desire. Think of what your life is ,now think of what it 
 would be with me ! " 
 
 " Are you buying me ? " asked Rosamond for his last words 
 had made her Queen again. " Wealth, luxury ? I have them, and 
 to spare. And passionate love ? No not as a price to be paid. 
 For the rest, I am only amazed. Your words mean nothing 
 What have I to fear ? Oh, I am sorry for this, with all my heart 
 and soul and hate, and vengeance : I did not cross the sea for 
 these. I am sorry for I meant to have told you who I am: 
 why I am here : for what and whom I am searching in vain, till 
 my heart breaks and will not let me rest : for you could have 
 helped me then, you and no other I thought but I cannot tell 
 you now. I have nothing to do with love of that kind. And 
 now " 
 
 " Help you. Is it not all I ask for ? " 
 
 " But in your way not mine. Do you not see I am sorry ? 
 Good-bye."
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 207 
 
 " No by God ! " cried he. " There cannot be good-bye between 
 you and me. Love and vengeance there is nothing between left 
 for me to choose. But I will warn you : though I so risk all. 
 Have you ever heard your friend speak of Lawrence Derwent ?" 
 
 "Never. Lawrence Derwent? I have never heard the 
 name !" 
 
 " Then Heaven help you you have chosen between him and 
 me. But you shall have time. No not good-bye, even now. I 
 have risked all ; 1 will even risk more." 
 
 " Good-bye," said she. But, even as she spoke, all bewildered 
 as she was by the burst of passion without preface from one who 
 had seemed the calmest of men, and by threats and warnings that 
 she could not comprehend, there came back the memory of that 
 fatal evening when she had first heard that passionate monotone, 
 pleading for pity and liberty. The man had changed, purposely, 
 past knowing but the voice had been taken off its guard : that 
 voice which she could never forget till her dying day. How 
 much she must have changed ! But had he spoken truth when 
 he said, " There can be no good-bye between you and me? " 
 
 His presence turned her cold, in the old magical way. Was he 
 to be her doom and to what end ? As a child she had half 
 believed him a wizard what was she to believe him now ? She 
 trembled to think how nearly she had been upon the verge of 
 telling him all, that he might find for her those whom she 
 could not find. 
 
 " Ah but there are some good things, even hi England ! " she 
 exclaimed, as Sophy, with set lips and dim eyes, crept into the 
 room. " Kiss me, dear I am glad there is something even for a 
 savagre heathen to understand! To-morrow to-morrow per- 
 
 O * 
 
 haps I shall know what to do." 
 " To go home ? " whispered Sophy. 
 " Child why, you are crying ! " cried the Queen, bursting into 
 
 tears. /;.%:.
 
 208 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Julian What saith the saw ? 
 
 \s uute'er you'd learn, affect to know it all." 
 Caspar. Aye, master, but at that game two can play. For 
 how goeth the by-word ? 
 " If 1 chase thee, and thon chase me, 
 The third man saith, Two fools there be." 
 
 THE office of the Agent-General for the Goblin Islands was 
 not built or furnished in such a manner as to put Canada or 
 Australia to shame. Indeed, the business of that enterprising 
 colony, at present without colonists, was transacted on the highest 
 floor but one of a high staircase in Mildew Court, which hides in 
 BO obscure a corner of the City as to be almost as undiscoverable 
 as Apahu. The offices consisted of an inner and outer room, both 
 inconveniently email : the latter being occupied by an exceedingly 
 smart lad of sixteen or seventeen, and the former by the Agent- 
 General, whenever he was there. The boy must have had a good 
 berth of it, for he was very much his own master during office 
 hours, except for a disagreeable irregularity on the part of his em- 
 ployer which made it unsafe to count upon an uninterrupted hour. 
 But on the other hand he might for hours and days together be as 
 idle as he pleased; from which it maybe inferred that the Agency 
 was not the sole occupation of Dr. Rackstraw. And this was the 
 truth : for he had a really distinguished name as a promoter of 
 philanthropic enterprise in the interest of commerce, or rather 
 of commerce in the interest of philanthropy and civilisation. He 
 had a really marvellous instinct for discovering old nooks and 
 corners of the globe where a stroke of business could be done in 
 beads, or damaged prints, or old rifles the stroke might merely 
 be a flash, but it would now and then take a firm hold, and then 
 the Doctor undertook the supply of true civilisation at large. 
 Socially, his pursuit had a magnificent ring, and as nobody knew 
 much of the Goblin Islands, nobody dared to confess to ignorance 
 on a subject which regarded the extent and integrity cf this great 
 empire. There are greater colonies about which quite as little is 
 generally known this island has so much to remember that she 
 may be forgiven for not being very ready to worry herself over 
 her great-great-grandchildren, who are always astonishing her by 
 having grown so tall. 
 
 It happened, however, that, on the day following Oswald's visit 
 to Sophy, the Agent-General was at his proper office : not only so,
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 209 
 
 but he had business there. His visitor was a respectable elderly 
 man dressed in black, and wearing gilt spectacles, who was 
 addressing him earnestly. 
 
 "No, Mister," he was saying, "you do not play fair. And 
 them that don't play fair have no call to complain if others act 
 according. That's my moral, and that's the way of the world." 
 
 " Nonsense, Moldwarp," said Dr. Eackstraw. "Just have done 
 with your ' instinc' ' for once, and listen to reason. You did me a 
 service. I don't deny it was a big one. I paid you for it and 
 you can't deny I paid you a big price for a big thing " 
 
 "Precious big when in six months 1 had to be back at the 
 flint trade again for bread and cheese I " 
 
 "I could find you the capital, Moldwarp, but I couldn't find 
 you the qualities of industry, prudence, thrift, and sobriety. If 
 you squandered what you had, what was that to me ? And you 
 forget. When you made the flint trade, as you call the forgery of 
 antiquities, too hot to hold you, who was it that set you up in the 
 old book trade, where your qualities so eminently fitted you 
 to succeed? You are ungrateful, Moldwarp. That's what you 
 are." 
 
 " Gratitude's all very well in its place, but it's not business. I 
 can manufacture anything that's wanted no man better, from an 
 old MS. to a tenpeany nail. But my best customer's in his coffin 
 and his effects are being overhauled: and I must make a new 
 start, if it's only as a professor of leger-de-main. There's appari- 
 tions to be paid for, and bills." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well ! That's a queer word for you to say !" 
 
 "Indeed? Why?" 
 
 " Because I don't see any call for make-believing 'twixt you and 
 I. My instinc's to go straight wherever it may be. You just 
 take a word in season, Mister. I gave it you once, and now I'll 
 give it you again." 
 
 "Gammon, Moldwarp. You mean that cock-and-bull story 
 about young Derwent being still somewhere in the world? 
 What then ? " 
 
 " What then ! Why, it gives me the choice of a market that's 
 all. In the world! He's in England. He's in London. And if 
 I like, I can lay my hand upon him m an hour. What you say to 
 that, Mister eh ? " 
 
 " Silver Moldwarp. You are the cleverest rascal I ever knew, 
 
 14
 
 210 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 Uneducated, you can puzzle a savant : and you can find what over 
 you please to hide. But I'm not a savant, Silver Moldwarp. I'm 
 a practical man. If you take Lawrence Derwent into my con- 
 fidence, he will simply find himself back again in Lowmoor, and 
 you will follow him. Do you suppose I couldn't prove up to the 
 hilt that you have been perpetrating a system of the grossest 
 frauds on my poor friend, ^Eneas Fane ? And, if that were not 
 enough Butnever mind that. You will have to find a jury that will 
 believe a professional forger on his oath against my word. . . . 
 Simply, I can't be troubled with you any more. "Why should I ? 
 Lawrence Derwent is a convicted felon, you are a notorious 
 rascal, and there's not a particle of evidence that Colonel Derwent 
 ever dreamed of a second will." 
 
 " Then you chuck me over like a rotten egg, Mr. Rack- 
 straw ? " 
 
 "Bless the man! Does he think I employ a rascal to do dirty 
 work without reserving the power of chucking him over whenever 
 I please ? " 
 
 " I thought you said I was the cleverest rascal going Eh ? " 
 
 " Of course I did : for you are " 
 
 " Aye and it's true, too : though there's ignorant folks might 
 be disposed to bar one. Ah, ingratitude it's a wicked, shabby 
 thing. Well : give me natural instinc', after all. Instinc' ! 
 
 "Take my advice, Moldwarp. Don't drink. Don't gamble. 
 Don't try to spend two pennies out of one. And then you'll find 
 rascality pay and not till then. What's the good of being a 
 rascal, if you can't do better than an honest man ? And even at 
 the best, honesty pays best in the long run. Take pattern by me 
 once poorer than you : I the dunce and you the genius." 
 
 " And you've beat genius by honesty ? And you call it honesl 
 to suppress a dead man's last will ? " 
 
 "No, I do not, Silver Moldwarp. I never did such a thing., 
 since I was born." 
 
 " And who did then ? I should like to know." 
 
 " The world says it was Lawrence Derwent. I say it was you. 
 There let it be which you please." 
 
 " Then all I can say is," cried the unfortunate bookseller, " give 
 me Instinc' before Hone'sty that's all 1 " 
 
 " Come in ! " cried Dr. Rackstraw, taking no notice of this out- 
 burst, in answer to a tap at the door. 
 
 " Mr. Hargrave, sir," said the smart boy.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 211 
 
 " There be off with you, Moldwarp," said Dr. Rackstraw, 
 brusquely. " I'm always glad to see you ; but business before 
 pleasure, don't you know. Well, Mr. Hargrave so you think of 
 becoming a Goblin ? If so, you are wise. But why do you 
 <*now one another, you two ? " 
 
 "And do you know one another?" asked Oswald, face to face 
 with Moldwarp, just within the doorway. " The world is small 
 indeed." He was gaining time for thought how to act and what 
 to say, for he could not help feeling that this accidental meeting 
 might prove one of those chances which, once lost, never occur 
 again. He was aware of Rackstraw's close connection with the 
 Derwents : he had the best of reasons for knowing Moldwarp to 
 be a rogue ; and it required no detective skill to put together the 
 fragments of a talk m the book-shop with the visit of the known 
 rogue on a small scale to the suspected swindler on a large one. 
 Suddenly there flashed into his mind a sentence which so struck 
 to the centre of the matter that he could not tell whether it was 
 an inspiration or a recollection " Whate'er you'd learn, affect to 
 know it all." 
 
 " No," said he. " Though I came on business, too you were 
 talking, I suppose, about the convict Lawrence Derwent, who 
 escaped from Lowmoor. Am I wrong? It was about him I 
 came." 
 
 As he spoke, he watched his friends. Moldwarp started, and 
 looked hard at him : Dr. Rackstraw started, and glanced sharply 
 at the door, as if to make sure that, though walls have ears, doors 
 have no tongues. 
 
 " And what the devil made you think that, sir ? " exclaimed he. 
 " So you are a friend of Mr. Silver Moldwarp, eh ? Then perhaps 
 your friend will kindly tell you what I have said to him 
 
 " I suppose," said Oswald, quietly, " that you, as a friend of the 
 family, would care to know where Lawrence Derwent is to be 
 found that's all." 
 
 " Oh ! then I don't and thafs all. It seems to me, Mr. liar- 
 grave, that you are rather fond of interfering in other people's 
 concerns. No. I don't want to know what has become of a con- 
 victed felon. Nobody wants to know. I have had enough of 
 this. If you don't come about land I am busy. Perhaps you 
 will aljow me to wish you good-day." 
 
 " The man is a bully because he has something to hide," thought 
 aid. I think I shall know how to deal with him. . . >
 
 ti2 A ItZAL 
 
 Good-day, then," said he. " Here is my card, if you wish to 
 know anything after all." He made way for Moldwarp to pass 
 before him, and then followed him downstairs. His intention was 
 to keep the bookseller in sight, feeling sure that his pursuit would 
 now lead him to the man he sought fairly straight and soon. 
 But, as soon as he reached the street, Moldwarp turned round and 
 faced him. 
 
 " I'm not fond of the sight of you, Mr. Hargrave," said he. 
 " But I'll say for you that you're not one of them that tells lies. 
 Do you know where this Lawrence Derwent is aye or no ? " 
 
 Oswald shrugged his shoulders. " It is no concern of yours," 
 said he, and passed on, intending to turn and follow as soon as he 
 could do so unobserved. 
 
 " No concern of mine, eh ? " muttered Moidwarp " Then I'll 
 just be even with the three of ye ! " And, Baiting till the other 
 was a convenient distance in advance, he sauntered out of Mildew 
 Court and followed Oswald. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Bound somewhere rolls the sun's red ball, 
 
 The frozen poles sway round th' sue : 
 Dame Earth spins round her poles, while all 
 
 Round Her we mortals run. 
 
 Bo maze-wise whirls the race of feet, 
 
 Of orbs, souls, planets, I, and You 
 The marvel's not we never meet, 
 
 But how we ever do. 
 
 OSWALD HARGRAVE thought that Silver Moldwarp 
 would lead him to Lawrence Derwent. 
 
 Silver Moldwarp was sure that Oswald Hargrave would 
 lead him circuitously to Lawrence Derwent. 
 
 The straight man believed that the crooked man would lead 
 straight: the crooked man, that the straight man would lead 
 crooked. But this was the only difference between them. Each 
 believed himself to be tracking the other : and neither could guess 
 that the other was tracking him. 
 
 Such misunderstandings happen often enough where, with the 
 world for their hunting-ground, two lives go chasing one another 
 up and down, and do not meet only because neither of them 
 stands still. But when the game is played, in the most bald and 
 matter-of-fact manner, in the streets of London, it must needs 
 grow bewildering. Consider the problem. Oswald goes in ad-
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 2 , 3 
 
 vance, meaning to turn round presently and follow Moldwarp. 
 But Moldwarp is following him. And so they are to all intents 
 and purposes moving in a circle, wherein as a child may see, to 
 speak of leading and following reduces the problem ad absurdum. 
 
 For Moldwarp of course it was the plainest sailing, because to 
 all appearance Oswald was the guide, and he could not guess that 
 the seeming guide was. only shamming. But Oswald soon grew 
 puzzled. He passed two or three turnings there are any number 
 of them in that part of London and sauntered down the next. 
 The chances were that Moldwarp would pass it : and he could 
 then retrace his steps and put himself behind his pursuer. But 
 Moldwarp took the same turning, too, still following. 
 
 That might, however, be accidental, his taking the identical 
 turning down which Moldwarp had intended to go. However, 
 the next experiment of the same kind could hardly fail. So he 
 repeated the stratagem only to find, on turning his head just 
 enough to confirm the suspicion of his ears, that the other was 
 after him still. 
 
 However, the theory of coincidence is not exhausted by two 
 cases. Oswald tried a third, this time plunging into a court which 
 forbade the idea of its being chosen without a motive. So quick- 
 ly and so suddenly did he contrive to disappear, aided by the 
 intervention of some men loading a cart between him and his 
 pursuer, that this time Moldwarp actually shot past the entrance 
 to the court, imagining that his guide was holding straight on. 
 Oswald emerged again, at last having reversed the order. But 
 presently Moldwarp began to waver, and then stopped. 
 
 Thought Oswald, " Has he lost himself or his way ? " 
 
 And it seemed as if he were right : for Moldwarp, after look- 
 ing to the right and to the left, before and behind, up and down, 
 retraced his steps and came back to the entrance of the court 
 again. Moldwarp passed him so closely that the two men might 
 almost have touched, had they pleased. Oswald counted ten, 
 very slowly, and then stepped out of the dark entrance to follow 
 once more. 
 
 " If he guessed I was following, and was trying to baffle me 
 he has lost me at last," thought he. However, he took the pre- 
 caution of crossing the street, so that his pursuing footsteps 
 might tell no more tales. 
 
 But suddenly Moldwarp vanished : and was seen no more. 
 
 It was not down a turning : for just at that point there was
 
 214 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 none. Nor \vas it into air, for the man bad no wings, nor under 
 the earth, for hia time was not yet come. Oswald could only 
 clench his teeth, and his fists at having been so completely balked 
 by this eel in gold spectacles. "He did knovr I was following him, 
 confound him ! " he swore, in somewhat stronger language, half 
 aloud. " I'm no use at this sort of game. At this, only ? No 
 at none: /, to think lean track the ghost of a girl over the world 
 when I let a substantial knave like that vanish before my very eyes. 
 Aye, and let him know that he has tricked me that a common 
 rogue like this should know what I would give the rest of my 
 life to know, and that I cannot lay hands on him except to 
 strangle the secret with the man. ... I suppose I am beaten, 
 now : beaten and shamed. I may as well go back and hoe my 
 turnips : or if I find I'm not fit even for that, take to shying 
 stones into the sea. Anyhow, that will be more useful than 
 shying myself into Nowhere. Poor Sophy, though we mustn't 
 part bad friends. After all, it's not for me to see motes in eyes a 
 girl has a right to be foolish : but what business has a man to fail ? " 
 
 He walked on slowly till he found a cab : and then desperate 
 at last of ever learning, much less of avenging, Rosamond's mys- 
 terious fate, he had himself driven straight to the very house in 
 which she was dwelling, and where he had left her not much 
 more than an hour ago. If he had only known but If is If : 
 that history whereto all the chronicles of all the ages are less 
 than a grain of sand. Think of all that never has been, is not, 
 cannot be, and never will be : what, beside such a boundless ocean, 
 is all the history of the earth, past, present, and to come, but less 
 than a grain of sand ? Yet If contains it all and more. Chaos 
 itself was a universal If Light the transmutation of If I be into 
 I am. 
 
 It seemed as if Silver Moldwarp, on the contrary, had been 
 transmuted from a very real I am into something less than If I 
 be. But it was not so. As fully persuaded as Oswald that his 
 attempt to follow had been discovered and that the other's leading 
 was a deliberate misleading, he effaced himself by the simple 
 means of vanishing, not into nothingness, but only into the ware- 
 house in front of which the cart was loading. Why did not 
 Oswald guess such an obvious cause for vanishing ? As to that 
 Tu quoque. You, who ask the question, also saw those men and 
 that warehouse but a minute ago, and had a better chance to re- 
 member it than a man whose whole life had been a training in
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 2 , 5 
 
 jthe art of looking a long way off for things that lay close at hand. 
 ; Besides, from his point of view, Moldwarp had no reason for such 
 'a method of disappearing ; and it is not so easy to know what 
 happens in the quietest of back streets unless one is told. Try 
 your best to keep your eye upon any chosen passenger in any 
 thoroughfare : and if he does not in ten minutes vanish in the 
 manner of Moldwarp, you are a born detective, and should in- 
 stantly apply for a place in Scotland Yard. 
 
 For such a place Silver Moldwarp should have applied : for, 
 instead of falling out of the chase, he left the warehouse with a 
 hasty apology for having intruded by mistake, and was in time 
 to see Oswald hail the cab, though strain his ears as he might, he 
 could not catch the address given to the driver. " Hanged if / 
 aren't done ! " thought he. But fortune favoured him : and before 
 the cab was out of the street, another came into sight empty. 
 ."Follow that," said Moldwarp : " he knows where to go." 
 
 It was all plain sailing now : and Moldwarp had every reason 
 to believe that he was being conducted straight to the man of 
 whose whereabouts his guide knew as little as he. Or if not straight 
 at any rate by a road that would lead to Lawrence Derwent in 
 time. For in one thing the manufacturer of antiquities was no 
 impostor. He had an honest, genuine faith in his own Instinct, 
 which was his more modest word for genius : and, though he now 
 and then took the name of Instinct in vain, it was always for 
 cause, and not because he in the least confounded it with reason 
 which he honestly despised, though he did not know it by name. 
 It was instinct, he would have said, that led him to the conclu- 
 sion, at first sight, that ^Eneas Fane was a bundle of golden 
 feathers made for nimble fingers to pluck till not one remained. 
 Instinct, in the matter of books or pebbles, had enabled those 
 nimble fingers of his to work out hints that he had not learning 
 enough to understand. Instinct, he would have said again, told 
 him that a man like Oswald would not be engaged in trying to 
 dodge and baffle him about the streets except to keep him from 
 finding something or somebody that he wished to find and the 
 other to conceal. Of course there was a dash of reason in this 
 as there must be in all operations of even the least imperfect 
 specimens of the human mind : but still there was little of the 
 dash as might be : and only Instinct, barely diluted, could have 
 told him that wherever Lawrence Derwent was to the knowledge 
 of Oswald, there Oswald himself would be in no long time.
 
 216 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 " Don't I mind bow he tried to hunt the poor heggar down ! " 
 thought he, in his half audible way, as he drove along. " And all 
 because he had been in gaol for breaking a law. If 'twas for 
 breaking his own head, 'twould be cause enough : but what's a 
 law P Even if 'tis broken, 'tis no more damaged than if yoird 
 broke a stream of water out of a tap on it goes. Young liar- 
 grave's a bull-dog, and no mistake wanting to get a poor devil 
 that never hurt him nor his Lowmoor'd again after all these 
 years. But fancy his going to old Rackstraw to join him in thief- 
 catching as a family matter ! That's a game and a half Never 
 mind : 'twas a good instinc', that he came when I was by. Holloa 
 I suppose we're there. . . . Stop, I say! Ill get down 
 here." 
 
 He had seen, from the window, the first cab stop at a certain 
 door in a certain street in a very different neighbourhood from 
 that in which the chase had begun. Moldwarp, while several 
 doors behind, stopped the cab, and got out heavily and slowly, so as 
 to give Oswald time to knock and enter before he exposed himself 
 again to the public view. Oswald once within the house, he 
 strolled towards the door to note the number. He had reached 
 the first of its area railings, when the door opened, and a 
 gentleman not Oswald emerged therefrom, came face to face 
 with him for a moment, stared at him mechanically, and passed 
 on : a tall, large built man, with a great brown beard. 
 
 " Now bless my mortal soul ! " gasped Moldwarp. " Instinc"s 
 an awful thing ! That's the man ! " 
 
 Instinct if Silver Moldwarp was right now had been 
 justified indeed of her favourite child. He had followed Oswald, 
 believing that Oswald knew. Oswald did not know : and yet 
 he had led more straightly than he could have gone even if he 
 had known. It was as if a lost wanderer had been guided by 
 Will o' the Wisp straight home. 
 
 Moldwarp turned and brought himself abreast with the man 
 from Nevada. 
 
 " Pardon, sir," said he. " Might I say a word ? " 
 
 The rule for prudent conduct in the streets of London has been 
 laid down thus walk quick : and if anybody speaks to you, 
 knock him down. There was, however, no apparent reason 
 for committing sudden battery upon this elderly person in 
 gold spectacles: and the man from Nevada, though he did
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 217 
 
 not slacken his stride, only answered, in his most exotic 
 twang, 
 
 " This is a free country, sir. Twenty if you please. Only 
 to save time, don't ask for money " 
 
 " Oh no, sir ! I'm not one o' them sort. Silver Moldwarp'a 
 my name." 
 
 " Oh, a capital name, too the first particularly." 
 
 " And I think we have a mutual friend Rackstraw by name." 
 
 a Eh ? " 
 
 " Hermon Rackstraw." 
 
 " I thank you, sir," said the man from Nevada, stiffly, with 
 his twang intensified. " You wish to speak on some matter of 
 business, I con elude ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Lawrence Derwent, I do." 
 
 " I am afraid you are under some mistake," said the man from 
 Nevada. " I am acquainted with Mr. Rackstraw : but my name 
 is Harding : not what name did you say ? " 
 
 For a moment his coolness staggered Moldwarp. But 
 
 "Lawrence Derwent is the name I said," said he. "And 
 Lawrence Derwent is the name I .say. Lawrence Derwent that 
 was in Lowmoor goal for felony, and escaped nigh a dozen years 
 ago." 
 
 " Oh you are a detective, I suppose ? All I can say is that I'm 
 very sorry you've been wasting valuable time. Well you're 
 only doing your duty: and it doesn't matter. I'm in no sort 
 of hurry. It will amuse me to prove that I am not an escaped 
 convict, and I shall learn something about your police system over 
 here. So, Mr. Moldwarp, till you learn your error, I am entirely 
 in your hands." 
 
 " My Eye, Mister but you are cool ! If I didn't put faith 
 in instinc' But I do. You're Lawrence Derwent, out of Low- 
 moor : ten or twelve years older, and grown a beard. And bless 
 you, if I was to hold up my hand to that peeler over there, into 
 Lowmoor you'd be again. I'm no detective I'm not one of them 
 sort, not I." 
 
 " Policeman ! " called the man from Nevada : not loudly, but 
 quite loud enough to be heard. " Make this man scarce he 
 is annoying me. He insists upon it that I am somebody else- 
 drunk, I suppose. Here is my card "and he held out a half- 
 crown. 
 Come, sir," said the constable, " this won't do you know
 
 218 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 annoying a gentleman in this sort of way. You can go on, 
 sir : I'll see to the other gent " 
 
 " Now if here isn't a fuss over a mistake I " said Moldwarp. 
 " I was only telling this gent that there were some friends asking 
 after him he'd be pleased to meet, and have heard he's back from 
 foreign parts and he cuts up as rough as a bear. You mind 
 your beat, my man, and let a pair of old friends have out their 
 bit of a breeze in their own way." 
 
 The constable smiled, shook his head, and passed on, seeing 
 no cause to interfere, in what seemed to be the mildest and most, 
 meaningless quarrel between respectable people in which he had 
 ever been professionally engaged. He looked back once or twice, 
 on the chance of a second summons: but only saw the two 
 gentlemen walking side by side. 
 
 "I'd advise you not to do that again, Mr. Derwent," said 
 Moldwarp, " that's all." 
 
 " Do what again ? Show an intrusive blockhead who threatens 
 me with the police that I mean to look to them for protection ? 
 Be off, whoever you are: or the next constable we meet shall 
 take me on the charge of thrashing a blundering, meddlesome 
 fellow whom I don't know from Adam half as much as he 
 deserves." 
 
 " Eh thrash me ? You've done that, Squire : and once is 
 enough o' that : my bones have been the same, to this day. As if 
 I forget you ! Lord, if I don't feel your knuckles in my wind- 
 pipe still. Have you forgot Pix-Knoll, Crossmarsh, by Low- 
 moor ? Then so haven't I ! Ah, you're older and you're bigger 
 and you're hairier. But I go by the Eyes. Look into a man's 
 eyes as I've looked into yours, and you'll never forget him. 
 There's no two men's eyes alike : and they never change, don't 
 eyes: leastwise the something in 'em don't, that differs man from 
 man .... Ah, and I know you're here : and old Rackstraw 
 knows you're here : and young Oswald Hargrave knows you're 
 here : and here's the only friend you've got going to be thrashed 
 for his pains .... Well, there. I scorn malice : it don't pay 
 .... So whatll you stand if I put you up to doing old Rack- 
 Btraw an ill-turn ? " 
 
 The man from Nevada strode on in silence for one moment 
 no more. Then he said : 
 
 " Well, one mustn't be angry with a mistake. It's not very 
 nattering to be mistaken for an escaped convict however, out
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 21g 
 
 where I come from, I've known ex-gaolbirds who were very 
 decent fellows indeed. It's a bit of an adventure : and adventures 
 aren't too common in this dead-alive old London of yours not to 
 be welcome. You're quite sure my name's Derwent, eh ? " 
 
 " Lawrence Derwent. Sure ? So are you." 
 
 " You've got pluck, old . gentleman, to recognise a man who 
 would prefer to keep dark, I con elude. Is he a desperate 
 character this Lawrence Derwent of yours ? Now look here 
 old gentleman. All this amuses me. I'm going to test your 
 faith. You say your friend Derwent, who nearly throttled you, 
 Avould like to do old Eackstraw an ill turn. I'm Harding, 
 Hackstraw's friend, bound to report to him any plots I hear 
 against his pocket, person, or good name. But if you have 
 faith in your fancy more than in my word, you'll risk that, 
 and tell me what bad turn you want to give me something 
 to do." 
 
 " All right ! You tell me what Lawrence Derwent would give 
 to know that old Rackstraw ought to be in Lowmoor instead 
 of he ? The ungrateful old varmin 
 
 " I don't know. But I know I'd give five hundred dollars 
 a hundred pounds any day, to see the apostle of Christian 
 civilisation on the wheel. Ha'd know what civilisation means 
 then. By old Harry, 'twould be as good as a play." 
 
 " Now you tell me what Lawrence Derwent would give to 
 the man whose instinc' tells him where to lay hand on the will old 
 Rackstraw swore he never witnessed eh ? " 
 
 " Good God ! " exclaimed the man from Nevada, in a deep, full, 
 English voice, suddenly stopping and facing the other full. 
 " Speak out man if this is a trap " 
 
 " You've hit it now, Master Lawrence. Trap's the word," said 
 the fox to the lion. " I've got you under my thumb Instinc's 
 a grand thing ! Because, you see, if you don't come down what's 
 fitting, into gaol you go, and what I've said of a will have been 
 but a bit of a lie like what any honest man may use to catch 
 a thief : and there you are." 
 
 " I see. Then let me tell you, to begin with, that I am safer 
 from gaol than you," said the man from Nevada, recovering his 
 drawl. " All this was beginning to amuse me : but the best of 
 comedies won't stand being too long. All the same I should like 
 to hear the end of the story. I've a bit of business first : per- 
 haps you won't mind coming round with me while I do it, and
 
 220 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 then we can go somewhere and have the rest out comfortably 
 by ourselves ? " 
 
 " Mind. Not I. I mean sticking by you, governor, till this 
 job's done." 
 
 " You're not afraid of trusting yourself alone in a cab with an 
 escaped convict, who would probably prefer taking your life to 
 losing his own liberty, and maybe knows how ? You say I 
 strangled you once before. Are you game to run the risk 
 again?" 
 
 "Oh, I aren't afraid this time. If you strangle me, you'll 
 strangle what you'd be sorry for, if you ever came to know." 
 
 "So far so good then. Hansom Mildew Court, City. In 
 with you, old gentleman. Time's money you know." 
 
 " Mildew Court ! " stammered Moldwarp, for once taken aback, 
 and amazed. 
 
 " Why not ? Now hold your tongue, please. I can't talk in 
 cabs: and I've got a bit of business on my mind." 
 
 They reached Mildew Court : and the man from Nevada, 
 having dismissed the cab, went straight for the staircase of 
 the Agency General of the Goblin Islands. Nor only so ; he 
 went to the very landing of the same company, and knocked at 
 their very door. 
 
 " Bless your soul alive, man ! * exclaimed Moldwarp, clutching 
 at his companion's arm while the knocker, having once fallen, was 
 in mid air " Do you know who hangs out here f " 
 
 " Is Dr. Rackstraw within ? " 
 
 Dr. Rackstraw was within ; and Moldwarp, cowed by such 
 courage into doubting even his own instinct, followed the man 
 from Nevada into the inner room. Dr. Rackstraw, who was 
 engaged at his desk, unfolded his long legs and rose : seeing Mold- 
 warp again, he stared. 
 
 " I've come to trouble you on a queer business, Doctor," sai 1 
 the man from Nevada. " But 1 won't apologise for bothering an 
 Apostle I should say a a you know what I mean of civilisa- 
 tion till I've done. I am haunted by an elderly gentleman, who 
 claims acquaintance with you, and insists upon it that I am an 
 escaped convict from one of your gaols. Will you kindly identify 
 me P For he talks of the police, and I don't know what all : 
 which is worrying to a quiet stranger. Do tell this elderly per- 
 son that he's an ass, and get him to go." 
 Dr. Rackstraw spent a moment in transferring his attention to
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 221 
 
 his visitors from the papers hefore him. "Mr. Harding of 
 Nevada ? " said he. " An escaped convict, indeed ! So this fellow 
 has been bothering you, too, has he, as well as me ? Yes : he haa 
 got a craze that an unfortunate relative of some dear friends of 
 mine, who got himself into trouble, and whose sentence is not 
 expired, is now in London, and at large. As if a convict who had 
 once escaped, would be such a fool ! " 
 
 " Of course he wouldn't it would be going into the lion's den. 
 Only I should like you to say whether there is much likeness 
 between me and your friend's unfortunate relative because if 
 there is, it may be awkward you see. I knew a case where Judge 
 Lynch hanged a man because he resembled a murderer in having 
 a broken nose. Did you know the unfortunate relative well ? " 
 asked the man from Nevada, bringing his face into the strongest 
 light he could find, while Moldwarp felt his faith in In- 
 stinct fading away or rather being shattered under a crushing 
 blow. 
 
 " A prince of the silver mines like a felon! " said Dr. Rack- 
 straw: "Impossible as soon would a civilised manufacturer, 
 the heir of all the ages, resemble a savage whose custom he has 
 not yet obtained. As soon " 
 
 " There is no likeness then ? None at all ? " 
 
 "No. Not a ghost. None. As a skilled physiognomist 
 which as a student of ethnology I am bound to be I assert there 
 is none. . . . Moldwarp ! " said he, " I told you this very 
 afternoon that it is nothing to me, nothing whether Lawrence 
 Derwent is dead or alive. I then thought you a rascal now I 
 can only, in charity, suppose you to be insane. You have Lawrence 
 Derwent on the brain. Mr. Harding agrees with me that you 
 are insane. Mr. Harding if this uncivilised monomaniac annoys 
 you again, I trust you will communicate with Me." 
 
 " Then," exclaimed Silver Moldwarp, "then all I say is Damn 
 instinc' for a liar and a fool ! " 
 
 He was crawling out of the court with his tail between his legs, 
 when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " I am Lawrence Derwent," said the man from Nevada. " The 
 way to test if a thing is a trap is to walk in and see Come 
 in here. We'll have a quiet drink, and you shall say what you 
 please. I suppose you're some worn out tool of Rackstraw's ? 
 Never mind, old gentleman. An ill tool's best for an ill turn."
 
 222 A REAL QUEEK 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The rarest weed that ever a wight 
 
 In ever a hedge might look to see T 
 I cannot mind its name aright, 
 
 But I think they call it Honesty. 
 Yet some do name it Old Man's Beard, 
 
 And Virgin '8 Bower to some 'twill be : 
 And so by a-many names, I'm feared, 
 
 Is called what's called is it Honesty ? 
 For as many as they that live by land, 
 
 And as many aa they that sail the sea, 
 Bo lew be the folk that will fail to stand 
 
 To a lie, for the sake of Honesty. 
 
 only two persons recognised Rosamond's nightmare 
 one by his voice, the other by his eyes. 
 
 " You wouldn't think it," began the fox to the lion, as soon 
 as they were alone in that most complete of solitudes, a city cellar 
 where men hurried in and out, and used their lips and their 
 tongues, but never their eyes or ears; "you wouldn't think it, 
 but me and old Rackstraw was schoolmates together, once on a 
 
 " Indeed I would though," said Lawrence Derwent. " And I 
 wouldn't send a son of mine to that school." 
 
 " And I were top-boy in grammar. But Rackstraw were bottom 
 all round. And now, there be him, and here be I." 
 
 "Well ? I follow you so far. You called top what is called 
 bottom in our schools. Well ? I suppose it isn't for murdering 
 the Queen's English you want me to pay you for putting old 
 Rackstraw in gaol?" 
 
 " Wait a bit, Mister. I've got to tell my tale my own way ; and 
 'tis never the short cut that brings one first home. 'Twas an old 
 country grammar school, where the head master was eighty-three 
 years old, and stone blind, and the second was deaf, and eighty- 
 four. Rackstraw and me were the boys. There aren't no such 
 schools now. So I used to spend the time practising conjuring 
 and such like, and Rackstraw, he used to look on : and when 
 the deaf master was keeping school, I used to study the violin." 
 
 " Well, Mister, when I done with education, I got into a scrape 
 in our village, about a girl me and Rackstraw was both after : so 
 I went into a booth that went round the fairs, and never clapped 
 eyes on either of 'em for years. When I did, 'twas at Halehurst, 
 where Longwood's hard by."
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 223 
 
 " We're getting nearer. Well ? '" 
 
 " I was pretty low down and hard tip, that day. In fact, I'd 
 been sleeping under a haystack, and was trying to fiddle up a few 
 coppers to get a bite of food. And as I was fiddling to the stones 
 in the street round things, and worse for naked feet than knives 
 who should come by, a-horseback, but old Kackstraw : and not 
 like a beggar, neither, for he was dressed like you or me. And 
 there was a young gentleman with him that was Lawrence Der- 
 went by name, son and heir to Colonel Derwent of Longwood, as 
 I came to know." 
 
 " Yes ; I remember once seeing in the High Street of Hale- 
 hurst, the raggedest of fiddlers making his fiddle croak like a 
 raven of ill omen, as I rode with that scoundrel to the house where 
 my father lay dying. So it was you, who gave me that only wel- 
 come home .... Well ? " 
 
 " You were in a hurry : but old Kackstraw knew me : for he 
 nodded, and chucked me a sovereign. I thought at first 'twas a 
 farthing, I hadn't seen one .so long. I stared : for chucking 
 sovereigns about, that was never old Kackstraw's way. Guess if 
 instinc 7 didn't lead me into the first public near. I astonished 
 the yokels a bit, with some tricks and tunes, and got the talk on 
 Rackstraw " 
 
 " And I'll tell you what you ought to have heard. That my 
 father had given me a stepmother. That Rackstraw, who had 
 travelled with them from India, got hold of my stepmother, 
 with his missionary jargon, and that between them they set my 
 own father against his own son even to getting him to make 
 a will that left Rackstraw a small fortune, and put my young 
 half brother Horace into the place of the heir. Is that what 
 you heard ? " 
 
 " Somewhat like : but mostly that the heir, Mr. Lawrence, 
 was a bad lot, and was bringing the old Colonel's grey hairs 
 with sorrow to the grave. Never mind, Mister, I've been a bit 
 wild myself, before I turned archaiologer. I don't think a bit the 
 worse of you for that ; not I." 
 
 Within the last few moments the whole manner, voice, it 
 may almost be said the features, of Lawrence Derwent had 
 undergone a change. Hitherto, it could only be by a marvellous 
 effort of systematic self -control that the passionate and masterful 
 lover of Queen Rosamond had, all in -a moment, become the 
 keen and bold fencer with Moldwarp and Racketraw. Now,
 
 224 * REAL QlrEEtf 
 
 convinced that he might for once throw off his long disguise, 
 he stretched himself out, morally speaking, with an infinite 
 sense of relief, saddened, and for the moment softened by the 
 memories of what had been before he became a hunted man. 
 He had not heard his father named since he had been convicted 
 of robbing his father's death-bed; Moldwarp's words were 
 beginning to fall on wandering ears. Rosamond had only 
 flashed across evil days : with his trained faculty for shifting 
 almost at will from mood to mood, he could lay even her 
 aside. 
 
 " Mister," said Moldwarp, " don't put your face a dozen years 
 like that afore old Rackstraw. He'd know you now ! " 
 
 "Go on with your story," said Lawrence sharply. "Never 
 mind my face. Get to the trial when I was found guilty of 
 guilty, when, Rackst raw's lies and plots against me being exposed, 
 my father sent for me and forgave me, nay, begged my forgive- 
 ness, and bade me, with my own hands, and before his dying eyes, 
 destroy the will he had been induced to make by slander and 
 lies " 
 
 "So that you was left heir-at-law. Now, Mr. Lawrence, 
 what did you do next after you, by the old Colonel's orders, 
 burnt that there will ? " 
 
 " Rode into Halehurst for the doctor, as hard as I could go." 
 
 "And when you got back to Longwood " 
 
 " My father had died. . . . Man, if you have nothing to say 
 but all this thrice thrashed out stuff, why do you bring me here ? 
 Can I send Rackstraw to the treadmill for lies ? " 
 
 " Well, Mister, you was a goodish time gone : for I was about 
 the place I'd took to run errands for old jRackstraw ; and he 
 sent for me : looking as pale and white as a ghost : and ' Mold- 
 warp, my man,' says he, ' you're wanted to witness the Colonel's 
 will. He's making one himself out of his own head, and I'm 
 helping of him to write it down. And be quick, for the rattle's 
 coming on.' " 
 
 " What another will ? When I was gone ? Go on, for God's 
 sake " 
 
 "True enough, there sat up the Colonel in bed, with paper 
 before him and a pen in his hand. Going, but sensible. Nobody 
 else in the room but Rackstraw and me. He signed : and then 
 Rackstraw put his ugly name for witness : and then I put mine. 
 Then Rackstraw sent me off to call the wife and childer to see
 
 A REAL QUEEN. . 225 
 
 the last gasp : but before they could get to the room, the old 
 Colonel was gone. And it's my belief, Mister, old Kackstraw took 
 care of that : it don't take much of a throttle to polish off a dying 
 man : and them that's dying can tell tales, while them that's dead 
 tell none." 
 
 "Now, by " 
 
 "Don't get excited, Mister; leastways not here. That will 
 said how the old one was revoked : and how you was to be heir 
 to everything, money and land : and left something to the others 
 and to old Kackstraw not a hang." 
 
 " And Rackstraw swore that the first will was the last made ? 
 But a murderer why should he strain at false witness? And 
 you you, knowing this, let a murderer swear away my liberty, 
 my more than life mine ? " 
 
 " A man must live, Mister. There had to be two witnesses 
 so Rackstraw chose me. I aren't ashamed. He knew if there's 
 one thing I'm not capable for, it's being ungrateful and to a old 
 schoolmate, and all. One of you had to be lugged, you see. 
 Why shouldn't it be you? If 1 hadn't been second witness, 
 'twould have been him." 
 
 " True. Moldwarp How is it you know the contents of that 
 S3cond will ? " 
 
 " Because I read it. Because, being light fingered by trade, I 
 took it out of oil Rackstraw's pocket, and put in another as like 
 outside as two peas, for him to burn." 
 
 " What ! " cried Lawrence Derwent, forgetting where he was 
 and trembling all over. " You have that will now ? " 
 
 "Maybe no. Maybe aye. I want to do what's right, and I 
 want to punish ingratitude. If, being a gentleman, you behave 
 like one, the will's your own. If, not being a gentleman, you 
 don't, why, 'tis but instinc' to act according. Old Rackstraw 
 might turn grateful again if I told him what I told you." 
 
 "No, no! I am rich enough to buy back my rights twenty 
 times. Do you suppose I came back to England for the pleasure 
 of putting my head into a lion's den ? I came back to find 
 means of ruining those who had ruined me : and it would not 
 have proved hard to ruin a greedy adventurer and a fool of a 
 boy. I am rich enough to ruin fifty Horace Derwents, and a 
 hundred Hermon Rackstraws. But now if you have told me 
 the one good grain of truth in a bushel of lies when that will is 
 in my hands, Silver Moldwarp, you shall receive let me sea 
 
 15
 
 226 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 Ten thousand pounds. That's high enough, I suppose, to make 
 sure of you ? " 
 
 " Ten thousand ! Well, yes, Mr. Lawrence : I might manage 
 to make it do if I could make sure " 
 
 " No Ifs, Mr. Moldwarp. And wait a bit : We must see how 
 we stand. Suppose suppose I produce this will, and Kackstraw 
 and my half brother contest it as a forgery : you're clever at such 
 things, you know. How then ? " 
 
 " Then I shall have to prove it aren't one that's all." 
 
 " And in what position shall you be ? " 
 
 "Me! What need I do but pocket your bit of gratitude, 
 which is a thing I like to see? All you've got to do, seeing 
 you've got to be so rich, is to buy a certain house that's just got 
 into the market. I didn't like to carry a document like that 
 about me, for fear of accidents; and owing to a misfortune, I 
 hadn't the chance to bring it away when I had to leave. Nor for 
 that matter was it any good to me while Rackstraw kept grateful 
 and you was not to be found, or dead may be. I stowed it there 
 because 'twas the last place where 'twould be looked for, the 
 people of the house not knowing so much as how there were 
 Derwents in the world. You buy that house, and when you've 
 got settled, some morning you'll get a homonymous letter, telling 
 you what corner's worth your looking to. Then you'll advertise 
 for one Silver Moldwarp ; and I shall answer it, and give all my 
 evidence as innocent as a bird all that's needful. Being witness 
 of a will's no crime .... and after getting the will, and before 
 me giving evidence, you can hand over that ten 
 
 ' If I get my foot on old Rackstraw, we sha'n't quarrel about 
 terms. By God, I'd give all the silver in Nevada to be master 
 of Longwood, and of my rights, for a day. Moldwarp, you're 
 not a man I'd trust alone with half a crown. But I'm going to trust 
 you in this, because I believe that for ten thousand pounds you'd 
 sell your soul ; and I run no risk, whether this is trumps or no. 
 What's the house I'm to buy ? " 
 
 " Crossmarsh. You know the neighbourhood, Mr. Lawrence 
 'tis by Lowmoor. Belonged to an old deceased customer of 
 mine, named Fane." 
 
 " Crossmarsh Fane I And my father'a will is hidden there f *
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 227 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Only a woman's whim only the gleam 
 
 Of that faint lightning in an August sky, 
 
 Too subtle and too swift to question whence 
 
 It conies, or whither goes, or what portends : 
 
 Only the meteor Nature's seeming whim, 
 
 But born of Law too deep for reason's reach : 
 
 Only the outcome of an inner life, 
 
 As when we dream the breath of flowers unknown: 
 
 Only the discord but for which the flow 
 
 Of song were else too passing sweet and smooth 
 
 These are the voices of a secret soul 
 
 Where memories, hopes, and wonders blend and pant 
 
 For freedom and for language, still in vain. 
 
 And so we say, we who behold the sign 
 
 But not the soul only a random note, 
 
 Only a worthless, idle, woman's whim. 
 
 HER discovery, in the voice of her friend Harding of Nevada, 
 of the being, seemingly human, who had thrown her 
 whole life into magical confusion, filled Rosamond with 
 a vague terror. She recalled, with a shudder, the gospel of her 
 people, that Apahu alone was the world of men and women, and 
 that the ocean was visible death that parted them from the 
 infinite abode of angels, demons, and disembodied souls. She 
 had never realised till now how penetrated she had become 
 with the atmosphere wherein she had grown a woman and had 
 ceased to be a child. She remembered, with a trembling of the 
 heart, how this seeming man had been able to become visible and 
 invisible at will; how he had been able to read her thoughts; 
 how he transformed her from an English country girl into a 
 Barbarian Queen, so to speak, with a wave of his aand. Could it 
 be that every human soul has a spirit ruler over its birth, its 
 life, and its death : that this being was hers: that her recollec- 
 tion of her far-off girlhood was the reminiscence of a world 
 where one lives before one is born : that her passage into Apahu, 
 through fever and storm, was her true mortal birth ; and that 
 her return to England was in truth (as her priest had taught 
 her) the sacrilegious intrusion by a living soul before its time 
 into the world beyond the ocean and the grave that her spirit 
 Lord was there waiting to receive her, and to claim his own P 
 
 And then she was hopelessly alone. There was none whom 
 she could take into her confidence ; and her social experiences made 
 her shrink from the talk that would follow were she to tell to 
 strangers' ears a tale of adventure in which indeed she could not 
 fairly expect any human being to believe. Her history had become 
 herself, which she recoiled from the thought of laying bare. And 
 
 15 A
 
 2* A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 then the more she saw of England, the more she doubted the pru- 
 dence of exporting its wisdom and its virtues to a land that was 
 already as wise as the fowls of the air and the lilies of the field. 
 She herself had ceased to be a wonder of the season, having long 
 ago fulfilled her nine days, and she shrank from calling fresh at- 
 tention to herself in a new form. 
 
 If she could only meet her sister in this grim, grey, threatening 
 spirit world then, indeed, might she cease to be homesick for the 
 Island of Apahu. 
 
 But of her old life, or, as it almost seemed now, of her old 
 dream, no trace had she yet found. First of all, her letter to 
 Sophy, addressed to Crossmarsh (for she dreaded to appear sudden- 
 ly out of her grave) received no answer ; and no wonder, seeing 
 that Sophy's latest address was some Post Restante abroad. Then, 
 dreading possible death or change, she had written to the firm of 
 solicitors who had transacted her uncle's business at the period of 
 his comparative sanity, signing herself as Senhora Miranda, and 
 enquiring if all was well at Crossmarsh, and, if not, what was ill. 
 For all answer, she learned that years ago Mr. Fane, of Crossmarsh, 
 had withdrawn his business and his papers from the firm, the 
 name of a firm in London being given to which she was referred : 
 that Mr. Fane and his niece were understood to be travelling on 
 the Continent, and that Crossmarsh was standing empty. The 
 second firm, being applied to, could only tell that they had trans- 
 acted certain business for Mr. Fane, but retained none of his papers, 
 nnd could tell her nothing with such subterranean cunning had 
 the lunatic trustee gone to work so that no one lawyer, or firm of 
 lawyers, might be in a position to control his breaches of trust, or 
 to interfere with the mad investment she was making for the 
 benefit of his country, his ward, and his craze. Oswald Hargrave, 
 with the best legal aid, had barely been able to trace them and 
 piece them together : no wonder that Rosamond, unaided, failed 
 or at any rate had failed in twice the time. 
 
 A book will some day have to be written on the craft of madmen 
 how it transcends that of a Moldwarp more than that of a Mold* 
 warp transcends that of a Rackstraw, or of any other commoner, 
 nnd therefore more successful, rogue. For as a madman sur- 
 passes three sane men in strength, so he surpasses six sane men in 
 cunning ; and when as statistics tell us is to be the mad come 
 to outnumber those who are otherwise, things will go hard for ua 
 who consider ourselves sane. We outwit them by numbers, they
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 229 
 
 wi^ then oufr-^ w us by numbers, strength, craft, and all. Rosa- 
 mond, remembering Unc'e ^Eneas as the sanest and wisest of men, 
 lost the thread utterly : for her own adventures did not seem so 
 marvellous, as that he and Sophy should have become wanderers 
 over the face of the world. 
 
 At last, instead of at first (not having acquired the business 
 sense in Apahu), she wrote to Oswald Hargrave. Her cores- 
 pondence, on all sorts of uninteresting matters, was large, and Dr. 
 Rackstraw, being with her during some part of most days, 
 often acted as her postman more often than not, indeed, except 
 in the case of those letters which concerned her old life, and 
 which she had invaribly posted with her own hands. But there 
 was no more reason why she should not have a letter for a Har- 
 grave, than for a Pitcairn, or a Rackstraw : he might be a 
 missionary, or a spirit merchant, or a begging-letter writer, or a 
 hundred other things. 
 
 But Dr. Rackstraw, assuming that a letter directed to Oswald 
 Hargrave must needs have been written by Sophy, and not think- 
 ing it for the girl's advantage that she should be in correspondence 
 with a bad adviser, forgot to post the letter : or rather he let it 
 fall accidentally into the fire. And the accident gave him the 
 keenest possible regret : because he might so easily have read it 
 before burning. However, nobody can be always wise; even 
 Ilermon Rackstraw, being human, was bound to lapse into partial 
 honesty now and then. Besides he was not a poor man, like 
 Moldwarp, who cannot afford honesty unless he happen to find it 
 a marketable commodity. 
 
 So Rosamond had no letter even from the man who loved her 
 when she was a child : he had gone away too. 
 
 Then, getting rid both of her philosopher and of her secre- 
 tary for the occasion, she asked Mr. Pitcairn, now in charge 
 of a London parish, to take tea, ostensibly to consult him on certain 
 theological difficulties: in reality to pump him about Crossmarsh, 
 without appearing to have any purpose, or letting her hand appear 
 as every woman, however untaught, knows how to do. It was 
 easy enough to get him to compare his experiences of an English 
 country rectory with those which he had brought from the South 
 Seas. 
 
 " If I was a young man again," said he, " I'd go out to your 
 country. From what I can make out, they don't know right from 
 wrong. Of course you'll take out a clergyman or two when you
 
 2 3 o A SEAL 
 
 go ? You might even get a bishop, if you go to the proper society 
 and will guarantee the funds. Only mind he's one of the right 
 sort a tall man, with good broad shoulders who'll stand no non- 
 sense and no back-sliding. Get the measure and girth of your 
 biggest priest, and don't take a bishop who isn't half a head 
 higher and six inches larger round : let him be broad church and 
 high church too." 
 
 " 1 think you would make a good bishop, Mr. Pitcairn." 
 
 " So Mrs. Pitcairn says. But nolo episcopari : which means 
 ' anything for a quiet life,' in the vulgar tongue. I'm sometimes 
 sorry I left my quiet country parish for this London of ours : I had 
 enough missionary work while I was young, and they won't allow 
 conversion by battery here, though it's the only way." 
 
 " Ah, yes I forgot : we were talking about your country parish 
 forgive me for interrupting you and your neighbours, weren't 
 we ? The Fanes. You were just telling me about them : and I 
 was getting interested. What sort of people were the Fanes ? " 
 
 " Ah, poor people. Old Fane Yes I liked old Fane. lie had 
 his whims, and was a bad listener ; but he was a good neighbour, 
 and a gentleman every inch of him. He had a niece a sad story. 
 She drowned herself one night in a fit of brain fever. I remember 
 it well, poor girl. Not that it wasn't for the best. She was one 
 of those fantastical, dreamy things that are as like as net to go 
 wrong, and are safe, any way, to lay hold of life by the wrong end." 
 
 " And the other ? " asked Rosamond, hastily. " What became 
 of her?" 
 
 "The other. Did I say there were two ? " 
 
 "I thought so " 
 
 "No doubt, I did, then. There were two. Rosamond, I think 
 no : it was Rosamond that was drowned. I don't know any- 
 thing about the other : haven't heard of her for years. I suppose 
 she's still abroad : married most likely. It's the saddest part of 
 life, the way one loses sight of one's old friends. It came on me 
 like a shock, the other day, when I heard my old country neigh- 
 bour, Fane, was gone." 
 
 " Gone ? What do you mean by gone ? " 
 
 " Oh, it's only our English euphemism for Dead : and I like it 
 best Dead isn't a Christian word. Poor old Crossmarsh it must 
 be changed, without old Fane and without me." 
 
 Had Rosamond been less thunderstruck by a piece of news which
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 231 
 
 everybody hears a hundred times and a hundred times again, 
 as if it were always told for the first time, she must have betrayed 
 herself. As it was, she made no attempt at concealment, and 
 would have burst into frank, open tears had not her old acquain- 
 tance shown himself so much more freezing and repellant than an 
 utter stranger an indifferent and forgetful friend. It was that 
 last " Me " which chilled her outburst and froze her tears. And 
 indeed the blank feeling that of those whom she had come from 
 the opposite end of the earth to seek one who had gone for ever 
 was of itself inconsistent with any sudden burst of sorrow. The 
 ache that such blows cause is dead and dull. 
 
 " When," she asked harshly and icily. " And where ? " 
 " Oh, poor old fellow I didn't hear when. Somewhere abroad, 
 of course. He was always abroad. By the way, I think I can 
 recommend you a capital young clergyman to take out as your 
 court chaplain: he's a curate of my own not much of a scholar, 
 but with a biceps like a cannon ball, and not a fault except 
 that he doesn't hit it off with Mrs. Pitcairn. Shall I tell him 
 to call?" 
 
 So, for the present, ended Rosamond's coming home. What had 
 been the use of it all had she, by parting from her people, rebelled 
 against Destiny and Providence ? She had come back only to 
 find all things changed: her guardian dead, her home empty, her 
 friends lost or forgetful, her sister Heaven knew where. All things 
 were so immutable in Apahu, and had been so immutable at Cross- 
 marsh, that the laws of nature seemed to be outraged. Her faith- 
 ful secretary saw no more of her for that day : nor her philosopher 
 for two more. And, when he was at last admitted, he found the 
 Queen dressed in mourning, such as Englishwomen wear for their 
 nearest kin. 
 
 This philosopher of hers had made as yet but little progress in 
 his love-making. He could not indeed complain of any lack of 
 friendliness on the part of the girl whom he had succeeded in 
 withdrawing from all her other associations, but he had suc- 
 ceeded only too well Sophy had become as it were merely the 
 echo and shadow of her mistress and queen. He seldom saw her 
 alone, and, when he did, she avoided all his attempts to turn her 
 talk upon herself and away from her heroine, so that, growing 
 impatient, he began to detest the very name of the Senhora 
 M irauda. His influence over Sophy, great as it assuredly had been,
 
 232 4 REAL QUEQN. 
 
 and as he had felt it to be, appeared to be paling before runt of 
 the Senhora, as the glow of fire pales aud dies out under the l>":un.s 
 of the sun. However, he meant to win her, and lie hud p) "i' 1 . y of 
 time: and he was a man who really understood the use of tinio 
 not merely as something to be spent, but to be economised, and in- 
 vested, without any hurry to realise. 
 
 He, like the rest of her diminishing acquaintance, had long set 
 down the Queen as a very woman in the matter of caprice, and her 
 sudden appearance in the deepest of black was only one evidence 
 more of a quality that he hoped in time to turn to good account in 
 his designs upon the heart of Sophy. But, capricious and whimsi- 
 cal as he thought her, he was not prepared for the intention with 
 which she one morning favoured him. 
 
 " I am tired of London," said she, as she played with an open 
 newspaper. " I think I have learned all here that will be of any 
 good to my people there was really very little to learn. But I 
 don't want to go back just yet .... and I want to be by myself 
 for a little while, in the country, and by the sea. Here is an ad- 
 vertisment in the newspaper, which suits me exactly: just as if it 
 were printed for my eyes to see." 
 
 " Oh, those advertisements," said Dr. Rackstraw. " Yes : they 
 are always just what everybody wants what have you found ? " 
 
 " A house, with lands, and grounds, and everything / want, to 
 be sold." 
 
 " Your Majesty thinks of buying an estate in England ! " 
 exclaimed Dr. Rackstraw, immediately casting about in his mind 
 for the chance of turning this new caprice to the account of business, 
 for, though his irons were mostly abroad, he had a few at home. 
 " You think of settling among us for good and all ? " 
 
 " I don't know what I think I am just wearied out with think- 
 ing," said she, " and I want to go to sleep somewhere, where I 
 haven't got to choose between opening the windows for fear of 
 stifling and shutting them for fear of noise. But I don't understand 
 business. Go to these lawyers, or men of business, or whatever 
 they are, and buy this place for me, and then come back again as 
 soon as it is done." 
 
 "Oh ! " sighed Sophy, " then you are going you are not 'going 
 home,' after all ? " 
 
 " Yes no. Would you mind leaving me for five minutes, while 
 I talk business with Dr. Rackstraw ? .... Doctor, before I talk 
 about this house, I'm glad you came : I want to thank you for
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 23^ 
 
 bringing me that child. She is made of starlight or as you would 
 say of gold." 
 
 " Yes, indeed. You cannot think better of her than I." 
 " She is good, like my people. How is it that being good means 
 being unhappy." 
 
 " Unhappy ! Do you mean that Sophy is unhappy, and with you ? " 
 " She has become like a daughter to me. But in my country 
 daughters tell their mothers all their sorrows : and I know no more 
 of her than just her name, and that you are her friend. She re- 
 minds me of a girl in my country who listened to words that ought 
 not to be spoken about killing a holy bird. She was unholy till 
 the second new moon. Has Miss Gray ever done anything wrong 
 that she effaces herself so ? You may tell me I am her mother 
 and her Queen, not her judge : and it will make no difference to me. 
 She has been my daughter till past the second new moon, by a lon^ 
 ime." 
 
 Dr. Rackstraw pondered and frowned. It was of the utmost 
 importance that Sophy, under the wing of the Queen, that is to say 
 under his own watchful control, should be kept apart from her 
 true lover and from the renewal of the influence of her old friend. 
 If Senhora Miranda became acquainted with the real story of her 
 maid of honour, her royal generosity would certainly not rest until 
 the mists of his own devising were cleared away. So he looked 
 at the ceiling, stroked his chin and said, 
 
 " Wrong, your Majesty, is a word that may mean almost any- 
 thing it often means right, just as right often means wrong. Of 
 course there are reasons why Miss Gray should wish to forget the 
 past, and to begin life all over again. Of course there was no 
 reason why she should not enter into your service. I brought her 
 to you, chiefly because I knew she would serve you well but also 
 because I knew that in your service she would be safe from that 
 most cruel of all cruel things: idle curiosity. I felt secure that 
 not a word would be said by you or yours to make her conscious 
 of her past, or to make her dread her future .... I am glad 
 for her sake that you think of a retirement into the country 
 
 If right and wrong have many meanings, Love has surely more. 
 Love had inspired Dr. Rackstraw to keep this girl to himself by 
 hinting away her good name albeit a stroke of business that 
 would have occurred to perhaps no other man in the world. But 
 then he, ignoble himself, had brains enough to have discovered the 
 lioness in the Queen of Apahu : and so,
 
 234 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 " I thank you with all my heart," said she. " She is more than 
 ever my daughter now : and not one word will I speak that may 
 hinder her forgetting .... Yes : I know this world beyond th 
 sea well enough now : I have read, and heard, and seen, how 
 Christians, who call my people blind, savage heathens, deal with 
 one another just when love and pardon are all in all. She shall go 
 back with me. Ah I know what it means to be alone all alone. 
 So thank you for understanding me : you are worthy to be a savage 
 and a heathen .... Yes ; London worse than wearies me. 
 About this purchase. I am getting impatient to go." 
 
 "I'm afraid an estate can't, in this benighted, old-fash irmed 
 England of ours, be bought in a day. It isn't like the system I've 
 introduced into the Goblins, where ten thousand acres can be 
 transferred, and the purchase money paid down, by two strokes of 
 the pen." 
 
 " At any rate as soon ae you can. I don't understand business, 
 or I wouldn't trouble you. Here is the advertisement. It will 
 tell you the name of the estate, and where to go." 
 
 "By order of the Court of Chancery" ho began to read. 
 " Crossmarsh ? . . . . Your Majesty thinks of buying Cross- 
 marsh? " 
 
 " Why not ? Do you know the place? Why should I not buy 
 Crossmarsh if I please ? " 
 
 If Dr. .Rackstraw were sitting in the Palace of Truth, he would 
 have found it easy enough to answer. He would have said: 
 " Because she whom I chose to call Miss Gray will be the seller ; 
 because you and she cannot be kept in ignorance of it : because 
 Crossmarsh is the very last place on earth where I would have her 
 go : because Oswald Hargrave will be her neighbour : because, 
 whatever happens, she will have escaped back to the very citadel 
 of old associations out of my hands, before their grasp has become 
 secure." He was so taken aback by the extraordinary accident of 
 this capricious princess having taken a fancy to Crossmarsh that 
 the fates seemed to have joined in league against his passion, and 
 for once, he scarcely knew what to say. 
 
 " Crossmarsh let me see : oh, the very worst part of the coast 
 of all England for scenery : not a civilised town within miles; not 
 even a railway : all swamps and malaria : and ah I remember: 
 next door to a convict prison. Dear Madam, you would die of 
 typhoid fever in a month, if you weren't murdered before " 
 
 " You seem prejudiced against the neighbourhood ? " asked
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 23S 
 
 Rosamond, a little surprised. "Have you ever been there P 
 Never miud I have set my mind on this particular estate : and, if 
 I don't like it, I can sell it again, and come away. Please go aiid 
 buy it " 
 
 " It is my duty to protest, Madam ! " exclaimed Dr. Rackstraw. 
 "There are dozens of lovely places in England hundreds : scores. 
 What on earth has made you fix on such an abominable hole, 
 where prisoners are sent to rot and die ? / will find you a place 
 in the country fit for a Queen." 
 
 " Oh, I don't want a place fit for a Queen. I want a place where 
 nobody else will come, fit for a girl who wants to forget, and e. 
 tvoman who is tired, and wants to go to sleep and dream " 
 
 " To commit suicide you mean ! " 
 
 " Dr. Rackstraw, I am a Queen, and not used to be disobeyed. 
 If Crossmarsh is so bad as you say, all the more reason why I 
 should buy it, to keep other people from dying of fever or murder. 
 I must see such a place, just for the sake of knowing the exact 
 opposite of Apahu. What is the use of having crossed the ocean 
 of death unless one gets a glimpse of Hell ? I thought I had seen 
 it, here in London: but go and buy Crossmarsh: it is my 
 will." 
 
 " Yes," muttered Dr. Rackstraw, " a woman always calls her 
 whim her will. But I say won't: and where there's a won't 
 there's a way. . . . Well," said he, sullenly for him, "I will see 
 about it. Seeing about it will do no harm." 
 
 "Give any price they want," said Rosamond ; "I don't want 
 bargaining and I want to go to-morrow, if I can." 
 
 Eagerness was imprudent : But then nobody thinks of analys- 
 ing the whims and caprices of a Queen. 
 
 Only that morning, and by the merest chance, for she was no 
 newspaper reader, Rosamond had learned that her old home was 
 for sale. That at least remained, whoever the owner who wished 
 to sell it might be. That she would soon learn ; though that 
 Sophy would part with Crossmarsh while one brick remained upon 
 another and while one wave struck against its cliffs was among 
 the things too impossible to suggest themselves. Crossmarsh 
 might in some way act as a link to bring her to Sophy if not, 
 Rosamond would have conscious and tangible possession of all that 
 was left to her of her childhood of that home-life that 
 had been hers before she became an exile and a Queen. She could 
 have almost struck Rackstraw, for his abuse of a place, that
 
 236 A PEA$ QUEEN. 
 
 obviously he had never seen, for its actual merits and for its 
 imaginary vices. Whether she would actually visit that old homo 
 she had hecome doubtful. That moment was over when the name 
 of Crossmarsh, standing out from a lawyer's or estate agent's 
 phrases, made her quiver with the wash of waves, more musical 
 than all the rest of ocean, and with the scent of flowers more 
 fragrant to the heart than all the southern profusion of Apahu: 
 Perhaps she would let it all remain a memory and a dream all 
 the rest of her home-coming was a failure : why should this also 
 be spoiled ? 
 
 As he went in the direction of Lincoln's Inn Fields to make, or 
 ot any rate to pretend to make, the enquiries with which he was en- 
 trusted, the Agent-General of the Goblin Islands recovered his 
 wits and laid his plans. There was one obvious course open to 
 him he could report that the purchase was impossible, for want 
 of title, or for a hundred other reasons that would satisfy any 
 ordinary woman with confidence in her business adviser. But to- 
 day he had seen her in an altogether new light capable of indulg- 
 ing in any caprice however unreasonable, and rendered the more 
 resolute in it by opposition. She was quite likely, he felt, if lie 
 should disappoint her, to rush down herself to the lawyers who 
 had the sale in hand and of concluding the affair at any cost and 
 any risk the greater these, the more likely she. 
 
 But then another idea came into his mind. The great thing 
 was to prevent her learning that Sophy was selling Crossmarsh : 
 because that would inevitably lead to a general communication 
 between Oswald Hargrave, the Senhora, and the supposed Miss 
 Gray, to the loss of his own influence for it was entirely a 
 question of the greater influence, he felt, upon which his success 
 depended in a lovs affair which by its very difficulty was now 
 absorbing all his desires. But if he himself became purchaser in 
 the first instance, he could afterwards lengthen out proceedings as 
 long as he pleased, and could even keep Crossmarsh out of the 
 market altogether, besides making what would be probably a good 
 investment, and having a magnificent hold over Sophy, as the lord 
 and master over her old home. 
 
 As it happened, however, he did not reach the lawyers until 
 office hours : and the next day he was intentionally too busy hop- 
 ing that some new purchaser might intervene. But it would not 
 do to keep so impulsive a savage as the Queen of Apahu waiting 
 too long': so on the next day he called in good time to see
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 237 
 
 how the land lay. He could not make any sort of report to 
 his principal unless he knew what all the circumstances really 
 were. 
 
 In the outer office two gentlemen were talking ; one with his 
 lack to Dr. Eackstraw, the other, evidently a member of the firm, 
 or perhaps their managing clerk, facing him. 
 
 " I am very sorry, sir," the latter was saying, " since you were 
 so anxious for the property. But the lady was a human steam- 
 engine hung on electric wires she put everything into our hands, 
 and positively got the business put through in four-and-twenty 
 hours deeds handed over, purchase money actually paid, and all. 
 I shouldn't have thought it possible ; but of course when 
 a lady produces the cash in Bank of England notes, anl 
 insists on signing everything at once and taking our word for 
 the title all I can say is, Caveat Emptor. Not but what it's all 
 right enough though I scarcely now know whether we're on our 
 heads or our heels." 
 
 " And who the devil," broke out the other in a voice so loud 
 and rough that Dr. Rackstraw barely recognised it as that of an 
 acquaintance of his own, " who the devil is this mad woman ? 
 Where is she to be found ? " 
 
 " There's the oddest part of all, Mr. Harding," said the lawyer. 
 " She calls herself Senhora Miranda Ngahoung there's a name 
 for the nutcrackers ! And it's a fact, sir, but she's a Real Queen ! 
 and as rich, sir, as as " 
 
 Mr. Harding, otherwise the Man from Nevada, otherwise 
 Lawrence Dei-went, turned on his heel and strode off without 
 another word. 
 
 A woman's caprice had cost him the house that held his 
 rights, his liberty, his good name: and that woman she who 
 had goaded his passion into open war. 
 
 But sudden rage revealed the man who, in cold bloo^, had 
 defied detection with ease. 
 
 " I came about Crossmarsh too." said Dr. Rackstraw to the 
 lawyer, "but I see I'm too late now. Good day." So he de- 
 parted, meditating many things on the return of Lawrence 
 Derwent rich and disguised : on girls who are coy and hard to 
 win : and on the difficulty of dealing with a woman so deplorably 
 uncivilised as to pay hard cash before examining her title deeds.
 
 238 A REAL QUEEX. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 They dead ? Not they ! For vain the boast 
 
 Of flesh or blood to slay a ghost : 
 
 Bead ? Nay when phantoms feign to die 
 
 They but increase and multiply, 
 
 And ghosts of faith, when hnuted ont, 
 
 Hake donble room for ghosts of Doubt, 
 
 Who, like Sir Hercules of yore, 
 
 For ten crushed heads finds twenty more. 
 
 An honest Goblin's twice as true 
 
 As half tlia lights that dazzle you. 
 
 IT may be remembered, or forgotten, that in the days when 
 Silver Moldwarp was in business as a practical archaeologist 
 at Crossmarsh, he used, by way of recreation in the oven- 
 ing, to frequent an unpretending tavern called the "Feathers." 
 The "Feathers" still flourished, in spite of time and change. 
 though the thirst of not a few of its customers was quenched 
 for ever. To say that one evening a number of the parishioners of 
 Crossmarsh were vainly endeavouring to quench theirs would be 
 an entirely safe proposition, because there never was an evening 
 in the year when some of them were not, while it would b 
 altogether too vague for the purposes of History, who insists 
 upon accuracy in dates, in order, no doubt, to be as loose as she 
 likes in all really important things. 
 
 When, however, the choice lies among some thousands of 
 evenings as the date of a proceeding which remained the same in 
 its incidents, however often it was repeated, accuracy becomes 
 obviously impossible. So after all it must suffice to say that 
 the sun set, and, in that same sense, that once a number of 
 parishioners of Crossmarsh were at the "Feathers," drinking 
 ale. 
 
 " Yes : 'tis true as gold," said Giles Fletcher. " I was at 
 Laxham market my own self, and nobody else's : and I heard it 
 as plain as that mug there. And so you'll see." 
 
 " Ah, but, Mr. Fletcher," said the new rector's groom, " if 
 everything was to be true one hears, this would be a muddlesomo 
 Bort of a world. It doesn't depend on ears if a thing's true, but 
 on the tongue." 
 
 " And not too much on that/' said the parish clerk. " Seeing's 
 believing I goes by the eye." 
 
 " Then, Mr. Crow," objected a mild shepherd in a corner, " if 
 you was a blind man, you'd believe nought, nohow ?" 
 
 " That's gammon," said the clerk. " That's what that is, gam-
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 239 
 
 mon. When I say the eye, I mean what I see by. And a blind 
 man with a bit of sense can see cheese from chalk just as well as 
 if he'd got an eye for every finger " 
 
 " Aye, but, Mr. Crow suppose he'd lost his fingers too ? I 
 seed a chap once at Laxham fair that got no arms nor legs, but 
 stood on his head, and swallowed his drink topside down. A 
 wonderful sight for to see ! " 
 
 " And so you'll see ! " resumed Giles Fletcher, -whom these 
 metaphysicians had for the moment thrown out of the running. 
 " When I hear with my own ears a man tell me something with 
 his own tongue, and when that man's own father to the lad that 
 runs of a lawyer's errands, I ain't far out, I reckon, though I 
 never lost so much as a toe. Topside down, indeed! What's 
 that to Fane's cottage being sold ? " 
 
 "Come, Mr. Fletcher," said the groom, "nobody meant no 
 offence, I'm sure. I'm uncommon pleased to hear it, for one. 
 Crossmarsh is a nice place, but there's no saying but what, for 
 anybody that's lived t'other side of Lowmoor, 'tis dull. The 
 ' Feathers ' is a good house, and so's the home-brewed, however 
 'tis took : but there's a terrible want of company. There's my 
 master : but of course, I don't reckon him : and there's the doctor 
 but he don't count neither ; and there's Mr. Hargrave, but he's 
 never at home ; and that's all. What we want is a real, good, 
 comfortable family, that'll keep company all the year round, with 
 London gentlemen and ladies in the servants' hall, and keep the 
 place alive. We'll get along then." 
 
 "No, no, we was never like that at Crossmarsh," said Mr. 
 Crow. " That's not our style. Ah, well never see the like of 
 the old. times, when Squire Fane were grubbing up the Knoll, 
 and Squire Hargraves were riding his mare over nigh every 
 day, and a chap from foreign parts Moldwarp by name was 
 fiddling your head off, and conjuring your nose into somebody 
 else's shoe, and Parson Pitcairn was preaching, and I were first 
 helping him : those were the days; nothing like 'ein now. Life 
 ah, that was the life for me." 
 
 " I mind old Moldwarp," said Giles Fletcher. " But there was 
 one thing he couldn't do : he could whistle, but he couldn't sing. 
 You'll mind, Mr. Crow, how he and I sang ' Brakes o' Barley,' 
 verse and verse, for a quart, and how he stuck at the nineteenth, 
 and I went on to the end ? " 
 
 " Aye, Giles ; and how when you'd finished you found yourself
 
 240 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 tied fast in your chair, and couldn't get out TTa, IKI ! Ah, what 
 times were they nothing like 'em now. Talk o' life ! 'Twas 
 because we lived too fast, I'm afeard, in the times of Squire 
 Fane and Parson Pitcairn. I reckon we burnt our candle both 
 ends and the middle as well. I wonder who the new folks '11 be." 
 
 "The lawyer's lad's father thought 'twas some sort of a lady," 
 said Giles. "He said, to the Queen. But I told him I didn't 
 come to market to buy gammon so that were one fcr he and two 
 for I." 
 
 "Aye: they think they're uncommon sharp, at Laxham. The 
 Queen, indeed ! Well 'twon't make much difference, whoever it 
 may be. We've done without anybody at the cottage now this 
 twelve year, and got used : and 't isn't like as if Miss Rosamond 
 or Miss Sophia was coming home." 
 
 "And who might they be ? " asked the groom. 
 
 " Eh ? " asked Mr. Crow, -with some surprise. " Well, my lad, 
 never you mind if you don't know. How was sheep going at 
 Laxham, Mr. Fletcher, pretty fab ? " 
 
 The groom, as indeed he seldom lost an opportunity of letting 
 Crossmarsh know, had come from a greater and wider world, 
 felt that the change of topic had been made with an intention 
 either with the favourite object of excluding a stranger from too 
 intimate an acquaintance with the hereditary mysteries of Cross- 
 marsh, or else of piquing his curiosity into asking a question. 
 Curiosity was just getting the better of the dignified indifference 
 of a man of the world, when ' 
 
 " Good evening, gentlemen," said a strong, but not very genial 
 voice : and the parliament of Crossmarsh perceived that to-night's 
 was to be no ordinary session. A stranger was among them ; 
 and not only a stranger, but one who, in calling the company 
 gentlemen, spoke with knowledge of the article. "I suppose 
 there's no objection to my smoking my pipe in here P The land- 
 lord wanted to put me into solitary confinement but a man's 
 own self isn't very likely company, so " 
 
 " And you're welcome, sir, I'm sure," said the clerk : for it 
 must not be supposed that the people of Crossmarsh were boors. 
 They were not of the north, where every man is better than his 
 neighbour, nor yet of the east, but of the west, where churls 
 are few, and men do not hold it impossible that they can have 
 betters. 
 
 The visitor, a large man with a big beard, took the first seat
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 241 
 
 that came to hand, filled a meerschaum pipe, aud ordered 
 cider. 
 
 " It's a fine coast you've got here," said he, to break the spell 
 of observant and curious silence caused by his coming. " You're 
 a bit behind the times down here, it seems to me. You ought to 
 have a branch line to Laxham, and build an hotel ycu'd have 
 visitors by the shoal." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the rector's groom, instinctively lifting his 
 thumb to his forehead. " That's what I say myself having 
 lived in places where they makes the most of theirselves." 
 
 The gentleman might be a painter, or he might be an angler : 
 for both painters and anglers, those pioneers of the bricklayer, 
 had discovered the cliffs and the streams of Crossmarsh full 
 half a dozen years ago. However, time would show. Even curi- 
 osity was patient and leisurely there as yet, and took its time. 
 
 " I walked over from Laxham," said he. " Not much to see by 
 the road. By the way, though, what was that big building I 
 passed to the right, about six or eight miles from here, beyond 
 the downs ? Do you know ? " 
 
 "Aye, sir; I know," said Giles Fletcher. "That be one of 
 Queen Victoria's palaces that be : where she asks you to come and 
 stop, and plenty to eat and nothing to pay." 
 
 At this venerable joke, cracked so often at Crossmarsh that it 
 had become to be looked upon as an unsurpassable gem and 
 inexhaustible fountain of humour, Giles Fletcher chuckled as 
 if he had invented it on the spot, and a grin spread over the 
 parlour. 
 
 " Queen Victoria's palace ? " asked the stranger, gravely. " I 
 smell a joke " 
 
 " 'Tis Lowmoor gaol." 
 
 " Oh Lowmoor gaol ! Of course I've heard of Lowmoor gaoL 
 f must get an order to go into it some day 
 
 " Aye, sir," said Giles Fletcher ; " that's fine and easy, to get in. 
 The thing they mostly want is to get out again." 
 
 " They may want, then," said Mr. Crow, recovering his social 
 monarchy, which the stranger had disturbed. " Lowmoor gaol is 
 the strongest, I'm told by them that's been in 'em all, the 
 strongest, sir, in the whole world. There's none that comes near. 
 There's been but two escapes out o' Lowmoor ever since 'twas first 
 a gaol." 
 " Indeed ? " asked the stranger, carelessly. 
 
 16
 
 242 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 " And one of 'era wasn't much of an escape after all 'twas a 
 man that was picked up next morning under Furnace Point, 
 where you'll see the very spot, if you goes there, to this day. 
 I were a little chap then; but my father saw the man, and 
 there wasn't a whole piece of him left more than would fill a 
 thimble." 
 
 " That was out of the frying-pan into the fire, eh ? And the 
 other man," asked the stranger. " What became of him f " 
 
 "Ah, sir, but if anybody could answer that, he'd have a 
 hundred pound this very day. Some say he went over Furnace 
 Point too, but if he had, he'd have been found leastwise some 
 of him. I had a look after him my own self, along with young 
 Squire Hargrave of Windgates, that was after him like a red hot 
 needle. He was out quarrying with the other gaol-birds, that 
 man was, and all of a sudden he was gone. They fired the gun, 
 and all the country was up and after him Silver Moldwarp and 
 all, that could always find whatever he pleased ; p'r'aps he didn't 
 please leastwise, he didn't find." 
 
 " What was the gentleman's name," asked the stranger, refilling 
 and lighting his pipe, " who was so hot on catching a poor devil 
 who did what any man would do? " 
 
 "Young Squire Hargrave, of Windgates. But what any man 
 would do ? No, sir ; not any man. An honest man what's sent 
 to gaol there he'd stay. Speaking as clerk of this parish, a 
 man's got to do his duty in that state of life whereto he's called. 
 We might every one have been murdered, for ought we could 
 tell ; and no man's got a right to fight a whole parish because he 
 don't like what comes of his own misdeeds. Ah, that was a 
 terrible time we don't have no more times like that now. 
 We'll never see the likes of 'em again." 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Crow," said Giles Fletcher, rubbing his hands gently 
 and slowly, as if he were caressing exciting memories, " times, as 
 you say. 'Twas the very next dry Squire Fane's niece suicised 
 herself " 
 
 " Your memory aren't quite right there, Giles," interrupted Mr. 
 Crow. "Nobody knows the ins and outs o' that but me. 
 'Twasn't'the very next day 'twas two days. And 'twas no more 
 suicide than you be. But 'tisn't best to talk too much o' that, 
 with the house just sold. Best let bygones be bygones," say I. 
 
 The rector's groom pricked up his ears, for an opportunity seemed 
 to present itself for satisfying curiosity without losing dignity.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 243 
 
 "We're all friends here, Mr. Crow," said he, "and if BO be thU 
 gentleman likes to know what we know " 
 
 " I should very much like to know," said the stranger. "Your 
 conversation, and your opinions, interest me, Mr. Crow, more 
 than anything for a long time." 
 
 "I quite believe that" said Mr. Crow, ignoring the groom. 
 "When a man's been parish clerk of Crossmarsh from before 
 Parson Pitcairn's time, 'tis his own fault if he don't know some- 
 thing o' most things. If a man don't know Crossmarsh, he don't 
 know all England : but if a man do know Crossmarsh, he do know 
 Crossmarsh ; and so he knows what t'other chaps don't know." 
 
 The stranger waited. Mr. Crow, having seen that everybody's 
 attention, coughed, drank, and began ; and there were but two in 
 the company, the stranger and the groom, who had heard it less 
 often than five hundred times. 
 
 " We used to think there was some'at uncommon about Squire 
 Fane's maggot for picking up pebbles and such like things. Ha 
 groped about for what you'd call rubbish lumps o' chalk, and 
 snail shells, and lobster claws. And he wasn't content with what 
 lay a'top o' the ground. If you come, sir, from Lowmoor straight 
 over the downs, you passed by a bit of hillock, called Pix-Knoll. 
 Squire Fane cut through it crossways, end to end and twice 
 athwart ; and he'd go poking in and out as if he was a coney in a 
 gold mine. Now I leave you to guess, sir, what a gentleman 
 should want with a lot of lumps of chalk out o' Pix-Knoll. We 
 didn't think so much of it at first at least the others' didn't, 
 though I always had my own thinkings. One day I spoke to 
 Parson Pitcairn. 'Oh, the Squire's a great scholar,' says he, 
 'and he's after the treasures of the Ancient Britons' those 
 were his very words. But he didn't seem to find 'em. So all of 
 a sudden there comes into his service, from the Lord knows 
 where " 
 
 " Aye, Silver Moldwarp ! " interrupted Mr. Fletcher. 
 
 " I say, from the Lord knows where a man without his like, 
 neither here, nor there, no nowhere all the country round. They 
 were good times, but I don't care to talk too 'much of 'em late at 
 night : and of how we used to makb merry with a man that 
 mightn't ha' been a man at all. After all, sir," he looked 
 severely at the groom" fun and good company's all very fine 
 but the soul comes first : and you may talk of your hotels and 
 your railroads, but when I say the good days be gone for Crosa- 
 
 16 A
 
 244 * REAL QUEER* 
 
 ma sh, I mean more as goes to the ear. Silver Moldwarp that 
 w j the chap's name. There wasn't a mortal thing he couldn't do. 
 II 3 could fiddle, and he could whistle, and he could sing. Aye, 
 
 les, sing. But he could do things nobody could believe, if I was 
 
 1 at on oath, except Giles Fletcher, because he knows of his own 
 yes. I've seen him turn a boiled egg into a live mouse, and pull 
 . crty fathom of blue ribbon through his mouth out of his own 
 
 nside. I've heard him talk queer talk with a spirit that was up 
 the chimney, and make one quart pot dance while another quart 
 pot sang a song. I've seen him make a table dance, too ; and 
 con jure the money out o' my pocket into his own. . . . and things 
 I wouldn't dare tell to none but Giles Fletcher, that knows. We 
 used to laugh, for he was a jolly chap at ' Feathers : ' but he lived 
 all alone, and all his work was to help Squire Fane grubbing: in 
 Pix-Knoll. And when you gets together a great treasure-seeking 
 scholar and a devil like Silver Moldwarp, come express to help him 
 from Lord knows where well, sir, it seems to me as how there 
 you are." 
 
 " A wizard and his familiar," said the stranger. " I see." 
 
 "Anyhow, they was always too familiar 'to please me, though I 
 was young and giddy then, and used to go to the ' Feathers ' more 
 than, maybe, I ought to ha' done. Well, sir, this Squire Fane 
 had two young nieces, as nice children as you'd wish to see. And 
 they was Miss Rosamond and Miss Sophia, young man," he added, 
 severely to the groom. 
 
 " Well to be sure ! " 
 
 " Young Fletcher, up at Fane's cottage, used to tell me there 
 was a sort of a empty lumber room where nobody never dared to 
 
 n 
 
 " The magic chamber ? " asked the stranger. 
 
 " Eh, sir ? You seem uncommon knowing about them sort of 
 thing. Where nobody never dared to go But one night Miss 
 Rosamond, being a female, and therefore curious by nature : 'twas 
 midnight, maybe she, I say, went into that there very room. 
 Think o' that, now into that very room after dark : and she but 
 a female girl! " 
 
 He paused for drink, and for the enjoyment of the indrawn sigh 
 of anticipation that thrilled the room. 
 
 " Ah ! And she saw ? " said the stranger. 
 
 "God alone He knows if He knows !" answered Mr. Crow 
 " for never was that young creature seen, herself, again ! "
 
 A HEAL QUEEy. 245 
 
 " Carried off by the devil ? " 
 
 " Don't ask me, sir. I only tell you this Silver MMwarp 
 vanished too" 
 
 " I'm glad I came to Crossmarsh," said the stranger. " That's 
 the best original story of the black art I ever heard it leaves such 
 a lot to the fancy. Yes the old wizard, the magic chamber, the 
 innocent girl, the fatal curiosity, and the devil, half comic, half 
 tragic, like all the best specimens, to fly away with her through 
 the midnight air. But what became of the wizard uncle ? And 
 weren't there two girls ? " 
 
 " After that, sir, Squire Fane threw all his gettings out o' Pix- 
 Knoll into the sea, 'twas may be chalk, or may be gold ; and then 
 he with Miss Sophia went to foreign parts away, and died in 
 London town. And now the cottage is sold; and she's a bold 
 woman, say I, that's bought a house to live in where there's been 
 such-like goings on." 
 
 " Then has nobody lived in that house all this time ? Is it empty 
 at this moment Now ? " asked the stranger, with an air of such 
 absolute indifference that a quicker brain than was used at Cross- 
 marsh must have seen that it was too complete to be sincere. 
 
 "Not a soul, sir. Leastways not a body I should say. Bless 
 you, sir, the folk hereabout are that coward they won't go by the 
 place after sundown. Of course I would, if I had occasion only 
 it don't happen to lay my road home." 
 
 "Ghosties and bogles!" broke in the sceptic in the corner. 
 " Not a bit of 'em. There's no such things." 
 
 " And who said there was ? " asked Mr. Crow. " But p'r'aps 
 
 you don't believe Miss Eosamond was spirited away 
 
 " She jumped over the cliff," answered the sceptic. 
 " P'r'aps you saw her jump ? " asked Mr. Crow. " And p'r'apa 
 she told you why ? And p'r'aps as you're so bold, shepherd- 
 look here, if you'll go and sleep to-night in that cottage, I'll stand 
 you a gallon ; and then well know if there's ghosts or nay." 
 
 "No, no!" said the sceptic. " 'Tis you ought to try that;" 
 and he looked round with a grin, for a laugh, but none came. It 
 was getting late, and the subject growing somewhat serious for the 
 hour. At Crossmarsh the people prefer talking of ghosts by 
 honest day. 
 
 " And so I would," said Mr. Crow, stoutly, " and for no 
 than a quart, only I'm a married man, and my home lies t'other
 
 246 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 road. And what's more, a new shepherd's easy got; but as a 
 public officer, I've got to think of the parish. No, shepherd, 'tis 
 you said going into that room meant no more than suicide ; so 'tis 
 you ought to see." 
 
 " There is such things as a haunted house," said the groom. 
 "There was one near my last place, where an old man without a 
 head and fiery eyes used to slide down the bannisters every first 
 Tuesday in the month at twelve ; and I've heard tell of another, 
 where a big black dog used to howl in the scullery when anything 
 was to happen, and when they used to look for him there was 
 nothing to be seen. And there was yet another where a skeleton 
 used to jump out on the maids from behind the haystacks, till they 
 didn't dare to go by. P'r'aps the new lady that's took the cottage 
 will keep her servants, but they'll have to be plucked ones, and 
 their wages '11 have to be high. What'd you take to sleep in that 
 there room, Mr. Fletcher, where the poor young lady went into 
 and never came out again ? " 
 
 " Take ! " said Mr. Fletcher. " There's none of your common 
 ghosts in Crossmarsh, mind that, young man ; but I'd like to see 
 the man that would take five hundred pounds to sleep a night all 
 alone by himself in Squire Fane's back room." 
 
 " Nevertheless," said the stranger, who had not spoken for so 
 long that his presence had become almost forgotten, " nevertheless, 
 gentlemen, that man will have to be found. I have never seen a 
 ghost, and I should like to have a talk with one of all things. I 
 want to get at the bottom of all this. I want to know what the 
 wizard conjured out of lumps of chalk and lobster claws. I want 
 to know whether he really sold his soul to what's his name Silver 
 Moldwarp, and how it was done. You see, I weigh near twelve 
 stone ; I'm not so easy to fly off through the floor, or the celling, 
 as if I were a slip of a girl. Moreover, I am a bachelor, and I am 
 not a parish clerk, so that my loss would not amount to a parochial 
 or even to a domestic misfortune. In short, I will spend to-night 
 in the ghost-chamber, and 111 meet you all here to-morrow and 
 tell you what I've seen. Of course, if I don't come well, gentle- 
 men, you'll understand that I shall be elsewhere." 
 
 It was certainly a chance in a thousand for a man who wished 
 to have the run of a house while it was empty, and which he 
 had no reasonable excuse for entering and searching. For 
 had he advanced the true one, that he was searching for an 
 alleged will, it would not be long before he would be considerably
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 247 
 
 nearer to Lowmoor again than Crossmarsh was, while a man 
 like Rackstraw, as the pretended Queen's fellow conspirator 
 and employer, would at once be put on the scent of such a 
 search, and, being once put thereon, would take every efficient 
 care that no will should ever be found. Everything, indeed, 
 depended on working with the most absolute secrecy, and with 
 so much suddenness that no sort of risk could possibly be run. 
 Tie could not go to the house and say, " I am a stranger from 
 America, but I have reason to believe that an important docu- 
 ment belonging to myself is hidden in this house with which 
 I have never had anything to do, and why I think so I cannot 
 tell." Such an application as that would assuredly have to be 
 decided upon by Rackstraw and it was not likely that the same 
 man would escape twice from Lowmoor goal. Nor, if he could, 
 would the all-important document remain open for finding. He 
 had come to Crossmarsh in search of a plan of undisturbed 
 entry, and had lighted upon an absolutely ideal plan. A house 
 empty and haunted, at a ghost-hunter's sole disposal for a whole 
 night why it was almost as good as having bought the place, 
 and in some ways even better still. 
 
 He certainly had ample time for thinking things out during 
 the startled silence that followed his offer to beard the very 
 devil in his den. 
 
 It may be that the fathers of the parish senate were distracted . 
 with conflicting emotions, and that there was some charitable 
 unwillingness, perhaps sense of shame, at letting a stranger 
 expose himself to the mysterious perils of the invisible world. 
 But his calmness was even more impressive than his courage; 
 he was certainly sober and apparently sane. And, after all, 
 Crossmarsh was not so very different from Laxham, Wind- 
 gates, and the rest of the world so far as human nature was 
 concerned. When a man deliberately throws himself into a whirl- 
 pool, horrified crowds gather from far and near, not to forcibly 
 restrain him from his purpose, but to look on. If he succeeds 
 he is a hero ; if not well, he gives people something far more 
 delightful than heroism to talk about to their grandchildren. 
 If this venturesome stranger emerged from his adventure safe 
 and sound, the old story of the place would still be just as good 
 as new. If something happened, the old story would be a hundred 
 times better than new. But if the stranger vanished from mortal 
 sight, even as poor Miss Fane why then an ineffable horror
 
 248 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 would give Crossmarsh a glory of wonder and awe, and enable 
 every man there present to boast to his dying day, " I seed the 
 chap just afore he went in." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Mr. Fletcher, licking his lips as if they had 
 a pleasant flavour, " you be a good plucked 'un that you be ! " 
 
 " Oh, it's nothing," said Lawrence, " I'm only afraid, with our 
 friend in the corner, that there'll be nothing to see. Ghosta 
 are shy birds, except when they're not wanted. Somebody, I 
 daresay, will lend me a lantern ; and I've got a pipe and a flask, 
 and I'm used to sleeping rough out West, so I shall do very well. 
 The only question is, how am I to get in and find the room ? " 
 
 " You'd better not go, sir," said Mr. Crow. " But, of course, 
 if you will why there's nought more to say. About getting 
 in, you can do that, for I keep the housekey, leastwise 'tis at 
 my house nigh the church, not a quarter of a mile off here. 
 About the room, you go straight through the hall, and up the 
 stairs straight in front of you, and then along the landing, that 
 looks over into the hall, to your left till you comes to tbe end, 
 and then down three steps, and along a long passage to your 
 right a main long passage ; then you gets into the back part o' 
 the house, but you never turn; and when you have got through 
 a old loft with a lean-to, there's the door afore your very nose. 
 A child couldn't miss the way." 
 
 "No; that's plain enough. First landing, left as far as you 
 can, right as far as you can : room. Now, gentlemen, drink 
 me good luck and a lively ghost, and 111 go, for it strikes me 
 the witching hour isn't far away." 
 
 ' A minute, sir, if you please ! " said Mr. Crow, for the rest 
 were falling into somewhat ghoulish silence, save the groom, who 
 whistled to show that he, as a man of the world, was not to 
 be impressed with a mere Crossmarsh mystery. "If anything 
 should happen, sir not that 'tis likely, nor I hope it won't 
 wouldn't it be best to leave your name and where you belong 
 to, so as your friends might know ? " 
 
 "I'd rather not," said Lawrence, lightly. "If your Silver 
 Moldwarp carries me off it shall be name and all. Think what 
 it will be to say, 'There wasn't so much as his name left 
 of him.' As for friends perhaps if I had friends I shouldn't 
 go. It's having wives and children, and comrades, that keeps 
 back brave fellows like you." 
 
 " That's it, sir," said Mr. Fletcher. " Tisn't that a man's afraid.'
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 249 
 
 " No, no. Of course not. Good-night, gentlemen good-bye, 
 in case I shouldn't see you again. Now, Mr. Crow." 
 
 " I wouldn't be in that there chap's hoots," said Mr. Fletcher 
 " not for aU the money in London town, and Laxham besides." 
 
 And none said him nay. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL 
 
 It's hame again, and liame again, 
 
 And hame ; sae lilted she : 
 But a' was lane and a' was gane 
 Whaur the kindly licht suld be. 
 
 And a" was leer and a' was bare 
 
 Of a' she fared to see : 
 Sae it's hame nae mair, and name nae mair, 
 
 And never mair for me. 
 
 OPHY," said Rosamond, "I am going away from London 
 really, this time. So please find out all about the 
 trains." 
 
 " Oh, Madam ! You are going home ? " 
 
 " Yes Home." 
 
 " Then you will not want me any more ? " 
 
 " Not want you, child ? "Why, I thought it was settled you 
 had transferred your allegiance from Queen Victoria to Queen 
 Ngahoung. Are you not coming with me even to the other side 
 of the world ? And not want you when I am only going a few 
 miles for a day ! " 
 
 " Yes : you are my Queen ! " said Sophy, " I only want to serve 
 you till I die. But you might not want me in your own country, 
 where everything is so beautiful and so happy and you said you 
 are going home." 
 
 " Well isn't one's house one's home ? I've been buying an 
 English house, you know, where I can escape from the smoke 
 to the sea till I go really home. And, dear but don't tell I 
 think I want to get a little away from Dr. Rackstraw too. Of 
 course he is a wonderfully clever man, and explains to me all 
 about the parliament, and the Church, and the peerage, and 
 politics, and commerce particularly commerce in the clearest 
 way, so that I really think sometimes I'm beginning to understand 
 them. The only thing I can't make out is how it is we get on so 
 well without them in Apahu, and how you seem to get on so 
 badly with them here. I suppose it's a shocking thing to say, 
 dear, but I don't like civilisation and enlightenment but then
 
 250 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 I'm f^uly a savage and, Sophy, don't breathe it to Dr. Rack- 
 Btraw : I shall never be anything more, I shall just take one 
 thing back to Apahu, and that's you. Now find out all about 
 the trains to a place called Laxham, like a clever girl as you 
 are." 
 
 " Laxham ! " Sophy exclaimed. But Rosamond's mind was 
 busied with lands beyond Laxham, and had no reason for noticing' 
 any peculiarity in Sophy's tone. However, the word had put an 
 additional seal on the latter's lips. If she were going back for a 
 little while into her own country, it should be simply as Senhora 
 Miranda's companion not as that poor Miss Fane who had to sell 
 Crossmarsh because her uncle had robbed her of her last penny 
 for the sake of his own whims. She was grateful to Dr. Rack- 
 straw for having turned her into Miss Gray, and to fortune for 
 not having let her visit her own country since she was a little 
 child, so that nobody could recognise her as the Miss Fane whose 
 lands were being sold. She had not a tie left to link her with 
 her past, and intended to have none for evermore. 
 
 A good deal to her surprise, and a little to her disappointment, 
 nothing was seen of her friend and patron before they started for 
 Laxham. Indeed, though Sophy had always found the grace and 
 dignity of her mistress a good deal mixed with sudden and a 
 sometimes unintelligible impulse, as was natural enough in a 
 lady from the South Seas, the Senhora had never appeared 
 downright capricious until now. The purchase of this house 
 must have been a strangely sudden caprice : her departure for it 
 seemed like the rush of a child upon a new toy ; and she would 
 not take a single servant with her, not even her Swiss courier. 
 The inexperienced traveller, utterly unversed in railway com- 
 plexities, threw off her leading strings and corks, and cast her- 
 self upon the world with none but Sophy to counsel and protect 
 her. However, Sophy had been a wanderer in the labyrinth 
 of civilised travel all her life, and to avoid arriving at Laxham 
 was not an easy thing. 
 
 Here they dined: and here Sophy expected they would stay 
 for the night. But a demon of unrest appeared to have seized 
 upon her Majesty the Queen. A carriage with a pair of horses 
 was ordered, and the travellers, with their very moderate amount 
 of luggage, were once more upon the road. It was already the 
 latest shade of twilight, and Sophy knew not whither they were 
 bound.
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 2 5 , 
 
 " Is your new house far from here ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes no " said her mistress, who had fallen into a silent 
 reverie, and appeared to be gazing farther than eyes can see. 
 " No douht," thought Sophy, " she is wearied out with being an 
 English lady and no wonder. I wish all this time were over, 
 and that we were gone. I wish we were in that wonderful 
 island, where people dream that they are happy and never wake 
 from their dreams. 
 
 Presently the road lay over the chalk downs. All at once 
 Sophy felt one of her hands clutched by both the Queen's and 
 these were fevered and trembling. " Oh, Sophy," she exclaimed, 
 throwing herself back, and drawing a full breath" the sea 
 the sea ! " 
 
 Sophy was not an imaginative person, and could not see what 
 was not to be seen. Moreover, her thoughts were exceedingly far 
 away. But her mistress's fevered clutch and excited manner 
 called her back from her own thoughts half alarmed. She could 
 almost hear the Queen's heart beat: she could see her bosom 
 heave ; she felt her trembling. 
 
 " What is the matter, madam ? " she asked, growing really 
 frightened. " Are you ill ? " 
 
 " No, no. Don't speak to me don't think of me : that's all." 
 She spoke almost sharply she, who had been so unfailingly and 
 generously kind. But she grew somewhat calmer : and Sophy 
 wondered if she knew that she had heard or answered a word. 
 
 At last they stopped at a cottage by the roadside, with a light 
 burning in the window. The driver tapped with the butt of 
 his whip at the door, and brought out an exceedingly respectable 
 old lady, who curtseyed at the carriage window. 
 
 " Are you Mrs. Crow ? " asked Kosamond, still speaking as if 
 she were but half awake from a dream. " I am Madam Miranda, 
 who have bought the house that used to belong to Mr. Fane, and 
 the lawyer at Laxham told me I should be able to get the key 
 from you. Here is his card." 
 
 " Our house Orossmarsh !" cried Sophy to herself, and crouch- 
 ing back into her corner of the carriage as if there were need to hide 
 on a dark night from an old woman who had not seen her since 
 she was a little child. She was utterly scared by the coincidence; 
 and yet what could there be more in it than that a house wanted 
 a purchaser, and a purchaser a house, at one and the same time ? 
 Every purchase is a coincidence in that way. But at the moment
 
 35* A PEAL QUEEST. 
 
 Sophy did not know what to think, still less what to say 
 or do. 
 
 " You're the lady that bought the cottage ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Crow. " Why you don't ever mean to say you're going in now ? 
 News come from Laxhara market that 'tis sold : but to think of 
 your coming down all at once, so soon ! Why, ma'am, the house 
 hasn't been slep in since Squire Fane he went away. To ho sure 
 I've got the key " 
 
 " I suppose it is sudden, but never mind," said Rosamond, in a 
 less dreamy tone. "But my friend and I have brought down 
 all we shall want for a night, and we must see about malting 
 things comfortable to-morrow. We were in a hurry to get home 
 and we like roughing it, and we hate inns." 
 
 In country places it is not good form to express surprise : but 
 Mrs. Crow looked decidedly grave. 
 
 " I think you'd best not go to the cottage to-night, ladies," said 
 she. " "Tis sure to be terrible uncomfortable, and empty and 
 cold ; and, begging your ladyship's pardon, of course it's all non- 
 sense, but there's tales." 
 
 "Tales ? " asked Rosamond. 
 
 " You haven't heard, ma'am P Ah, then, tis no business of 
 mine : and 'tis all nonsense there aren't no ghosties nowadays." 
 
 "And if there were," smiled the purchaser of that worst of all 
 bad bargains, a haunted house, " we shall get on very comfortably 
 with them, I dare say though of course now they'll have to go : 
 but all the same it seems a little hard to disturb old tenants, Mrs. 
 Crow. I'll take the key now, and you shall hear from me pretty 
 early to-morrow " 
 
 " Yes, Madam : 'tis for you to do as you please, to be sure but 
 all the same Why, bless my heart alive ! wherever is the 
 key ? " 
 
 Rosamond leaned back patiently while the search was being 
 made. Sophy was still trying to reconcile herself to the com- 
 plication of being thus brought back, under a changed name and 
 as a stranger, by a stranger to her own old home. Sentiment 
 had little or nothing to do with her state of mind, for in truth 
 her only desire had been to cut herself away from her past alto- 
 gether, and never have to do with the world that held Horace 
 Derwent again. Her childhood at Crossmarsh had ended in pain 
 and trouble, her after-life in ruin, and the death of her one 
 dream had crowned it all, making her believe the -whole world,
 
 A SEAL QUEEN 253 
 
 save Senhora Miranda and Dr. Rackstraw, an abyss of fickleness, 
 falsehood, and greed. 
 
 The key could not be found. " I know I put it somewhere," 
 said Mrs. Crow, " and have kep it somewhere : and I could have 
 laid ray life 'twas on that nail. But it can't be gone, and to- 
 morrow I'll hunt high and low. 'Tis a sort cf a providence, ma'am. 
 They can make shift at the 'Feathers,'! dare say 'twill be better 
 than you'd have found at the cottage." 
 
 " There used " began Rosamond, " there ought, I mean, to be 
 a key of the servant's door, at the side." 
 
 For a moment Mrs. Crow did look surprised, and vexed besides. 
 " Oh yes, ma'am, I've got that key. But 'tis hardly fitting a lady 
 should go into her house after dark, by a back door, and no beds 
 
 aired " 
 
 " I prefer it," said Rosamond, in her royal manner. " I'll take 
 that key now. Good-night, and thank you, Mrs. Crow." 
 
 When Mr. Crow came home, rather late, from the " Feathers," 
 there was news for him indeed. His wife had been g )od enough 
 to wait up for him, so that he might have the very earliest word 
 " Peter they're come ! " 
 "Come?" 
 " Aye, Peter : Squire Fane's is sold to two young women, with 
 
 their bonnets choke full of bees " 
 
 " I know ; Giles Fletcher heard all that at Laxham market. Ah, 
 they won't stop here long." 
 
 "But you don't know they're in now, by the back door ! They 
 ccme here for the main key and I couldn't find it, high nor low 
 from Laxham, in a fly and pair, baggage and all." 
 
 Mr. Crow glared aghast. For his nerves had been considerably 
 fluttered by his own ghost story, and the result of his return to 
 the "Feathers" had by no means cleared his brain. The con- 
 sequences of having betrayed his trust as key-keeper might be 
 disagreeable unless he took precautions to hide his past transaction ; 
 and he had not the least intention of going to a houseful of bogeys, 
 bogey-hunters, and other strange creatures to eeo if anything was 
 wrong. And so, with plenty of beer in his brains, he did what 
 every blockhead is almost sure to think wise he said nothing to 
 his wife about what had become of the missing key. For he was 
 well up in proverbs like, " You may tell who's new married by his 
 telling his wife news:" and "Silence is the hedge of wisdom," aa 
 pome exceptionally long-eared saw-coiner used to say.
 
 254 ^ REAL QUEEN. 
 
 But Rosamond knew what she was about exceedingly well. It 
 is true she had no practical purpose in view : all she felt was that 
 there was nothing left her at the end of a vain search but to go 
 back to Apahu, and there to live and die alone only first she 
 must see the old sights, and hear the old sounds, and bid good- 
 bye to the ghosts of old times. Moreover she must keep the tomb 
 of her life in her own hands : she loved it too well to let it pass 
 to strangers, and there was always the chance of its proving some- 
 thing more than a tomb so long as it remained hers. Sophy, if 
 living, would surely come back a pilgrim to the old home some 
 day, even as she was coming back now, and before she left Eng- 
 land for the land which had married her, she could take steps to 
 ensure that such a pilgrimage should not be made in vain. The 
 hurry of her flight from London had been deliberate : she desired 
 to throw off her queendom, and not to have the sacred places of 
 her heart intruded upon and dissected by her philosopher and 
 friend. Dr. Rackstraw would, of course, in due time recover his 
 pupil, and she would in due time need again his help and his 
 counsel: but not now. And she entered her own bouse, her 
 Mecca, like a thief in the night not out of impatient caprice but 
 because it was her heart's desire to come unseen and to find as 
 little unchanged as could be found. A hint of the new mistress 
 coming 1 , she thought, and it would be somebody's business to sweep, 
 and garnish, and drive out the very ghosts whom she was coming 
 to see : and she would have to face all the stares in the parish in- 
 stead of creeping in silent and unknown. 
 
 Dumb must be the pen and deaf the ear that have failed to tell 
 and to gather what this home-coming meant to Rosamond, Queen 
 of Apahu. Many times, and in many ways, has her strange story 
 been told the story of a home-bred English girl carried off in the 
 simplest way and yet as if in an Arab's dream, and at once trans- 
 formed into the Queen of an unknown land. And now, after 
 many years, with her mind full grown, her soul enlarged, but with 
 her heart of hearts unchanged, she was coming back to her cradle 
 wherefrom all but her heart had died. She had thought to find 
 all as she had left it Uncle yEneas groping for his fossils; 
 Sophy running about like a wild bird just because the same 
 Rosamond was coming back again : and she, the dead was coming 
 back to life, and only the living had died. 
 
 It was a ghastly business, after all, when the side-door had been 
 opened, the luggage carried in by the driver, and the fly discharged.
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 255 
 
 As to reasonable comforts, there was no lack of them, for she had 
 made Sophy pack almost as if for a campaign. But these things 
 were of no moment, seeing that she had only thought of them for 
 her companion's sake. She passed into the square hall, holding 
 her lighted lamp, Sophy following. Not a chair Lad been dis- 
 turbed. Sophy regarded her with a sort of awe, she was so silent 
 and her eyes were so full of the light of April. The younger girl 
 was on the very edge of taking the Queen into her confidence, but 
 did not dare. 
 
 Imagine the feelings of a ghost permitted to return, after many 
 years, from the grave, with the wisdom of death in its soul, to find 
 all changed. Or rather, a woman made a child again without 
 losing her womanhood, to find that even childhood also is dust and 
 vanity. Now she seemed to hear her uncle calling : now Oswald's 
 mare upon the drive : now Sophy bounding down the stairs. Now 
 again she was only conscious of all the emptiness and the end, and 
 her home-sickness turned into a longing for the blue skies and 
 human sunshine of Apahu. 
 
 " Come in here," said she, opening the library door. That room 
 was empty indeed. "We will make this our parlour for to-night," 
 said she. " And now we must look for night quarters. Let us 
 go upstairs. We will make some tea with the spirit lamp, 
 and " 
 
 Her eyes caught sight of something on the floor. It was a 
 sharpened flint, labelled, " Found by Moldwarp," with the date 
 "inPix-Knoll." 
 
 She gazed at it in so long a trance that Sophy knew not what 
 to do. " Leave me," she began to sob. " Don't you hear me ? For 
 God's sake leave me alone." 
 
 A Queen must be obeyed. Sophy, frightened and miserable in 
 that ghastly house, alone with this woman, who seemed falling 
 back into the savage more and more every hour, crept back into 
 the hall, but left the door ajar. The heathen queen seemed to 
 have found a fetish in the pointed stone : for she was on her knees 
 with it in her hands. 
 
 " Oh, if something would speak to me, if I could only hear a 
 voice ! " Sophy heard her cry. 
 
 " I aai not myself to-night," she said, after they had looked into 
 one or two of the upstair rooms. " I suppose civilisation is tell- 
 ing on my nerves. You mustn't mind me to-night, dear. To- 
 morrow I will down to the sea, and swim my nerves and my
 
 256 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 follies away. We will sleep here. Come, let us make up our 
 beds. These couches and our blankets will do for to-night. We 
 don't have feather beds in my country, and you must learn our 
 ways." 
 
 The room she had chosen was that which had been her own ; 
 and it was even curiously little changed. Mrs. Crow who had 
 the care-taking, evidently was of strongly Conservative views, and 
 had taken no liberty with the place as it had been left by the 
 Fanes. It may be remembered that the room was double, so she 
 bade Sophy take the second and inner room. Sophy would rather 
 not have left her mistress even to the extent of having an open 
 door between them : but the Queen always made a point of sleep- 
 ing alone. 
 
 " If you wake and chance to hear me moving about, or miss me," 
 eaid the Queen, " never mind. I don't feel much like sleeping : 
 and I may be inclined to explore." 
 
 " Oh,' : cried Sophy, " pray don't go wandering about this this 
 strange house all alone ! Do wake me, if I'm asleep, and take 
 me with you, if you do." 
 
 " Go to sleep, my child," said Rosamond, " you must be dead 
 tired. Now kiss me and if you wake before morning, you will 
 have disobeyed your Queen." 
 
 It need not be said that Sophy was tired very tired : with 
 travelling, with thinking, with grieving, with fearing, with won- 
 dering. Her bed was anything but luxury, and her whole situation 
 was trying and exciting to the nerves; but, after all, Sophy's 
 nerves and troubles were mostly apt to let themselves out in one 
 good cry. Her disillusion about Horace Derwent was the only 
 trouble over which she had never cried. That had gone deep : but 
 mere sentiment was as healthily unknown to the grown girl as it 
 had been to the child. Her tears floated her into slumber very 
 soon. 
 
 Rosamond was fully as restless as she expected to be. She closed 
 the door between Miss Gray's room and her own, placed the lighted 
 lamp in a dark corner, threw up her window, and looked out to 
 sea. The water had been like glass when she last saw it; now, 
 even through the dark, she could see the white horses tossing their 
 manes. What was she getting out of this visit, after all? Well, 
 she would have been miserable if she had not come it had at any 
 rate the advantages of exorcism. She would never wish to set 
 eyes on it again. She had come there, and freed herself of the
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 257 
 
 hunger : and now, since all was lost and dead in her old home, she 
 would be able, with a freer mind and an emptier heart, to devote 
 herself to her new. 
 
 But, meanwhile, she must go through it all. Without the least 
 trembling of the nerves, for she was in far too exalted a mood, she 
 carried her lamp along the gallery over the hall, and along the 
 white-washed passage, until she reached the door of her bower 
 and citadel of old time. Surely she had been there but yesterday 
 not full ten years ago. For her, at least, was absolutely no 
 change : this back part of the old farm-house had always been 
 empty, deserted, and her own. 
 
 She almost expected to see her bundle of romance lying upon 
 the table : but that had gone. So also had the heap of straw from 
 which her real romance had appeared in living form. She went 
 to where it had been the only spot on the floor which she had 
 never seen. 
 
 If she had only seen that spot, how the charm of her bower 
 would have been multiplied; for, as is not unusual in old loft 
 and lumber rooms of farm-houses on the west coast (the farmers 
 who made them, and sometimes the preventive service, knew why, 
 there was a trap-door that was not hard to pull open : and not only 
 a trap, but a half -ladder, half stair-case, below. 
 
 In a word, the nature of the apparition that terrified the child 
 out of her wits stood revealed : and all her history had hung upon 
 a straw. . . . But that was an old story now, and courage had 
 grown porhaps for the moment morbidly high. She turned the 
 trap well back upon its rusty hinges, and carried her lamp a few 
 steps down. Who of the sex of Eve and of Bluebeard's wife would 
 not have done the same or of Adam's either. So it was thus 
 ihat the man had hidden himself who had brought her fate, and 
 whose voice had found her again and summoned her after ten years. 
 The mystery had been exposed thus far : but she shuddered at the 
 remembrance of its misery perhaps of its recurrence, unless she 
 hastened back to what seemed the only spot on earth where these 
 mysteries and miseries were alike unknown. 
 
 It seemed strange that there should have been a nook or corner 
 of the cottage that she, and still stranger that Sophy, had never 
 found out in their exhaustive explorations. The steps led down, 
 through an atmosphere of close air and choking dust, into a bare 
 room exceedingly like the one she had left above ground, though 
 not quite so large. What a find, what a castle, what a secret bower 
 
 17
 
 258 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 it would have made for her once upon a time ! She would explore 
 no further now, although the discovery of so much promised so 
 much more. Besides, she was half choked and stifled, and new 
 things were not what she had come to see. 
 
 The room must have been used for some purpose or other by 
 former generations of Fanes, or whoever were there before them, 
 for there was an old three-legged stool there, and some hoop-staves, 
 and similar odds and ends. At present, however, it was given 
 over to the spiders, for whom it must have been a veritable Apalui. 
 There were plenty of mouseholes ; and a corner cupboard with 
 broken doors. Before leaving the place she looked into this, and 
 stood on the three-legged stool to look higher : and on the top 
 shelf she found a folded paper, covered with dust, but showing no 
 special signs of age. She opened, it seemed to be, some sort of 
 law paper, and the first words were, " This is the last will." It 
 was not likely to concern herself ; but it must needs, she supposed, 
 concern somebody : and when she was a child she had read 
 plenty of stories about the curious places where wills are found 
 after all, remembering these stories, a cupboard in a hiding hole 
 in an old farm-house was just the very place to find somebody's will. 
 
 " Derwent ! " thought she, looking at the names " I don't re- 
 member any Derwents about here or any Derwents except those 
 people that Dr. Rackstraw knows. I had better send it to him ; 
 and he'll know what it is, and what to do." 
 
 She placed the paper in her dress and returned up the stairladder. 
 It was a relief to close the trap again, and to breathe less stagnant 
 air. 
 
 Hitherto her nerves had been strangely calm, as calm as if she 
 were re-visiting a grave after many years. But, whether the calm 
 was false, or whether the last impressions she had of her bower 
 crowded back upon her in the rush of a moment, she was seized 
 with a panic the like of which she had never known. , It seemed 
 to her as if a human form were in the darkness of the door as if 
 with her the shadow of her life had returned to the same spot 
 where it had first been thrown between her and the sunshine of 
 her days. Yes, the shadow was now all that was left to come. 
 She did not stop to reason. She, Queen as she was, flung her lamp 
 into a corner, and in the crush and darkness, flew through the door, 
 slammed it behind her, turned the key twice in the lock, and then 
 sped at double pace till she was at her bed-room window, again 
 drinking the wind from the aea.
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 2 $g 
 
 " It is the last time ! " she panted. Never while I live will I 
 open that horrible door again ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 GOBBLER. Of yonr good learning, unriddle me this master : 
 
 Sworn to Site, and plight to Prue, 
 
 Robin's false, and JKooin's true. 
 
 DOCTOK. Nay /.fellow : never was he true wight that is forsworn. 
 COBBLER. Then must I e'en resolve mine own maximum : e'en thus : 
 
 If Sue were Sue, and now is Prue, 
 
 Unfortaxm he wert not true ; 
 
 Since Prue is Prue and was not she, 
 
 Being true swain, most false is fie. 
 
 OSWALD HARGRAVE was necessarily aware of the con- 
 veyance of Crossmarsh to Senhora Miranda. He was 
 vexed; though, of course, he had no business reason for being 
 so. On the contrary, everything had gone miraculously well and 
 smoothly. Of course, Sophy would not be a penny the richer for 
 the sale, which would be swallowed up by the payment of debts 
 and mortgages: but she would be saved having to pay heavy 
 annual interest, and be free from a legion of responsibilities. In- 
 deed, to say that she would not be a penny the richer is to sfeak 
 too conventionally : for the Senhora had been in much too great 
 a hurry to bargain, and had paid what the amazed lawyers had 
 chosen to ask her in the expectation of having their terms beaten 
 down. Moreover she had paid in hard cash, and had asked no 
 questions : so that nobody but herself had a right to come. I have 
 abstained, and claim credit for it, for not having detailed the 
 proceedings which resulted in the leave of the Court of Chancery 
 to sell an estate in coparcenary on security being given to satisfy 
 the claims of the co-heiress should she ever come to life again. 
 I claim credit, because, in the position of Miss Fane's counsel, 
 the case has given mo an infinity of thought and trouble all to 
 result in these half dozen lines. Oswald found the security by a 
 mortgage on his own farm : nor was he advised to the contrary, 
 seeing that unless the court had been reasonably satisfied of Miss 
 Rosamond's death without issue, leave would have been withheld. 
 As things were, even he, loyal to the possibility of her life as he 
 had been all these years, was bound at last to surrender his 
 dream, so far as she was concerned. 
 
 All these things belonged to his talk with the lawyers at 
 Laxham : the whole business was settled, and h had once more 
 
 17A
 
 260 A PEAL QUEES. 
 
 to face the fact that he must either quit his search or forthwith 
 force it to an end. Moldwarp and Rackstraw were still his 
 only clues: and he had absolutely no means of forcing their 
 hand. For still through Lawrence Derwent lay his only road 
 to Rosamond. The weak and easily turned that is to say, all 
 the worshippers of resolution and strength of will will feel 
 that he ought to have cut through the knot somehow, though 
 they know not how. But such must learn to realise first what it 
 means to love a ghost for ten years. Rosamond had never been 
 his, even in name, he would not know her if she came before his 
 eyes, as he very well knew. He himself was ten years older 
 than he was ten years ago : and the probability of her death 
 grew stronger and stronger, while his hope, which meant his 
 faith, grew weaker day by day. In such a cold fit he could only 
 perceive that Rackstraw meant to be inscrutable, and that Mold- 
 warp was as slippery as a serpent, and would know his purpose 
 besides. 
 
 Well it came to this, that at any rate there was no middle 
 way between beginning life again, or driving on to the end. And 
 whichever way he decided, he would leave his own country, 
 where he could neither follow hia search nor begin life again 
 For Sophy he had now done all he could : there was nothing left 
 to bind him to the lives of others. He would see the last of 
 her, and then make his own decision, once for all, and stand by 
 it without further wavering, whatever it might be. It is just 
 the most stubbornly faithful hearts that have the faintest hours, 
 if all the truth could be known. 
 
 So, though her business had been carried out for the best, 
 that she should have been brought back to Crossmarsh was 
 odious to him in the extreme. He shared to the full all Mr. 
 Harding's disbelief in the Senhora, and none the less because he 
 had but once seen her, and had never spoken to her ; and her 
 connection with Rackstraw only confirmed him in his idea of 
 her as an adventuress though it can be no ordinary adventuress 
 who buys real estate with hard cash, and whose wealth on that 
 occasion was beyond disputing. If Harding was a king of the 
 silver mines, she was an empress of emeralds and rubies. He 
 was afraid of her for Sophy and yet even in this there waa 
 nothing to be done. He could not forget how the girl had fired 
 up at the least suspicion of her friend. 
 
 Thus it happened that Rosamond, standing at the library
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 261 
 
 windows and looking out upon the drive, and thinking, not 
 merely dreaming, of her own, her real own people of Apahu, 
 for whom she was answerable to the King of Kings and Queens 
 was brought back, all in a moment, to the Crossmareh of old. 
 For, as if it were but yesterday, there was Oswald Hargrave, he 
 and no other, leading his horse past the greenhouse where he 
 bad told her to wait for him, the last words of his that she had 
 ever heard : words that she had forgotten the moment they were 
 spoken, but which now came back as if they -had been seeds 
 that had taken ten years to grow. 
 
 And she had thought he, too, had vanished out of the world 
 like all else that had belonged to her when she was young. . . 
 And would he know, perhaps, what had become of Sophy ? . . 
 She felt herself turn faint and pale. If he could tell her nothing ; 
 if he could only tell her that the child was dead but then, if he 
 could say, " The child is alive " Rosamond felt like a prisoner 
 before her judge, before doom is spoken. She left the window and 
 paced the room. " Has he found me out ? " she asked herself. 
 " Can he have learned I am here ? " She did not know whether 
 she hoped or feared. " If he knows me, he knows me but if he 
 does not ; and if Sophy is gone There must be no chance then ; 
 Rosamond Fane must be dead, and I must be for ever what I 
 am. Have I come for life and death ? It is no use praying. 
 W hat is done is done." 
 
 The house, with the help of Mrs. Crow and of the village car- 
 penter had very soon been put into sufficient living order for two 
 ladies who required for the present only three rooms; for none 
 of the needful furniture had been removed. Sophy had not yet 
 found either the courage or the will to tell her mistress of her 
 own former connection with the house to which she had come as 
 a stranger ; and, for that matter there was every reason why she 
 should put off that perfectly useless confession for good and all. 
 She, also, was beginning a new life, and meant to be Miss Fane 
 no more; and besides, it would be a breach of faith to Dr. Rack- 
 straw, and oblige him to make explanations which she knew he 
 wished to avoid. So when Oswald was shown by Mrs. Crow into 
 the drawing-room where she had been meditating, as became a 
 lady in waiting, on less lofty matters than became the mind of 
 Majesty, she said at once 
 
 " I know what you think, Of wald but I am still to be Miss Gray.'
 
 2 62 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 " And for once," said he, " I don't think you are wrong. It 
 that that troubles me. It is your being with this woman, here at 
 Crossmarsh, at all. Being here since nobody will remember you 
 it is as well you should avoid the false position you would be 
 in as Miss Fane." 
 
 " Ah I am so glad you think me right ! " said she. "And "' 
 
 " We must fall out, Sophy, about no small things. I may not 
 nee you for a long, a very long time." 
 
 " Yes, Oswald and I I am going to Apahu." 
 
 "Apahu?" 
 
 " Don't you know ? It is the country of my mistress, the 
 Queen." 
 
 "Good God, Sophj ! But I can't match reason against a witch, 
 and a Rackstraw : if there be an Apahu, or whatever the name 
 is, anywhere out of the world of dreams: or of frauds. That 
 woman " 
 
 " Hush, Oswald ! Here she comes the Queen." 
 
 Sophy rose, and stood in all respect : for she believed with all 
 her heart in her mistress, and in her own office, and publicly in- 
 dulged in no favourite's liberties. 
 
 Oswald was already standing ; and he bowed, but under pro- 
 test ; and certainly not to the Queen. Rosamond merely inclined 
 \ier head, and did not hold out her hand ; it was not the custom 
 in her own country. But, for all her cold stateliness, her heart 
 was throbbing, and she was searching him with her eyes. 
 
 ' He does not know me," her own eyes answered her. "And 
 yet he is not changed." 
 
 Strange enough, in all conscience, would it have been if the 
 mm who had been moving rtunl in the circle of one idea for ten 
 years had known again her who in that time had grown up 
 from a child into a queen, and from a queen into a woman. 
 
 Yet she was saddened by his want of knowledge : the woman 
 had not yet grown up to the height of pure reasonableness nor 
 would, may be, until her time came to grow into something higher 
 still. 
 
 As for him, with all his doubts of her, he was far more impressed 
 by her presence than when he merely saw her in the midst of a 
 crowd on the night when ./Eneas Fane died. He had to harden 
 himself against a certain magic : for he could not feel that she was 
 what he believed her to be. 
 
 " I am a neighbour of yours, Madam," he said. " My name is
 
 A HEAL QUEEN. 63 
 
 Hargrave ; I live at a place called Windgates, not many miles 
 away." 
 
 " And you have come to call upon your new neighbours ? " 
 asked Rosamond. " That is friendly. This is my friend, Miss Gray. 
 ... Of course, you knew the people who lived here before " 
 
 "The Fanes? Well." 
 
 " Of course being in their house they interest me," said she. 
 Sh e was so eager to reach her question, and yet so dreading it 
 that she fancied she needed excuses for tlie most natural curiosity 
 about the traditions of the new home. 
 
 " There are so many relics of them about that I almost feel as 
 if as if I belonged to them. Are you sorry they are gone ? " 
 
 "They were very dear friends of mine," said he. 
 
 " Let me see I have heard something of them already ; they 
 were an old man and two girls. He is dead ; and they what has 
 become of them ? " 
 
 Sophy glanced at him quickly. 
 
 There was certainly no reason why he should betray what she 
 chose to make her secret to satisfy the idle curiosity of a stranger. 
 
 " I cannot tell you," said he. " The elder is thought dead " 
 
 " Yes and the younger ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell." 
 
 Sophy's eyes thanked him. And so Rosamond had her answer. 
 So this was friendship : she came back to find that Oswald Har- 
 grave could not tell. " Then neither can I tell," she thought, all 
 cold with a dull pain. 
 
 " Perhaps," she asked, " she is thought dead too ? " 
 
 " She went abroad," said Oswald " and what has become of her 
 I have said none know." That was quite enough truth for one 
 whom Sophy's fate could not concern. 
 
 " Or care to know, I suppose/' said Rosamond. " That seems to 
 be the way of the world." A queen from the South Seas might 
 speak a little strangely without seeming strange. "So she is dead 
 too for that is all it can mean. How long have these people 
 the Fanes been gone ? " 
 
 " Ever since the elder girl " 
 
 "Died? Ah, I see now." 
 
 It was as if she had seen her sister die. For if Sophy had van- 
 ished out of life on that terrible night ten years ago, even so would 
 Rosamond have broken her heart and have died of love and 
 sorrow.
 
 264 A HEAL 
 
 Nothing on earth could have made her say to Oswald now. " I 
 am Rosamond Fane, come back from the grave." All was lost 
 that she cared for : he knew her not : he was so indifferent that 
 he had even forgotten how and when her sister had died. What 
 would she signify to him, or he to her? It would merely confuse 
 her plans, and roughen her return to Apahu. . . . Let all the past 
 go now : for aH had gone. 
 
 " It is a strange old house, this that they call a cottage,* said 
 she, with a sudden change of manner, bright, but hard, like one of 
 her own gems : and a little bewildering to a man who knew little 
 of women's whims. " I have been groping about all over it, and 
 look what I found. Is it of any use do you suppose ? " 
 
 He looked at the paper which she gave him. ""Why," said he, 
 " it is a will. And Derwent there have never been any Derwents 
 
 here. I know some Derwents " Sophy's heart came into her 
 
 ears. 
 
 "So do I," said Rosamond. "Can it have to do with them ?" 
 
 " Impossible, J should say," said Oswald. " And of course, if 
 it could, there's no saying whether it's any use to them or no. 
 
 But wait .' He turned deeply grave.." This is of 
 
 use, I should aiy. Where was this found?" he asked, with his 
 eyes fixed on the paper in his hand. 
 
 "InanoM cupboard. Of course it means nothing to me. 1 
 thought of fiending it to Dr. Rackstraw " 
 
 " Would you trust it to me ? " he asked, eagerly. " I know the 
 Derwents, and they are the people it concerns." 
 
 " Certainly," said Rosamond. " I don't mind who takes charge 
 of it, as long as it is in the right hands. It is very strange, though 
 it should be here. But no. There is nothing in the world that is 
 strange." 
 
 That, however, was not Oswald's opinion as, after some further 
 talk that wandered farther and farther away from what was in the 
 hearts from those who made it, he rode back to Laxham. To find 
 further evidence of a connection between Moldwarp and the Der- 
 wents, in the former's witness to a very obvious experiment in forg- 
 ing something more ambitious than flint arrow-heads was certainly 
 not strange. That was merely useful ; and he would employ it 
 without further delay. What he found strange, and what, all the 
 way to Laxham, and all the way that same night to London ran in 
 his mind, was the woman to whom he had poken for the first time
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 265 
 
 that day. He, the lover of a dream, felt as if a living woman had 
 thrown him under a spell. 
 
 He had come scarcely meaning to see her ; or, if seeing her 
 merely to gain such knowledge of her as might enable him the 
 better to warn and protect Sophy. He found a presence, now soft 
 and eager, now keen and brilliant, that, in its sudden moods, 
 startled him into something beyoud observant interest, and a voice 
 that seemed to make music in him at once old and new. He had 
 felt this in some measure even at the outset, when she was merely 
 asking questions about the Fanes and showing him the paper she 
 had found. But it was afterwards, when the talk ran upon her 
 own country and her thoughts of England, that he began to com- 
 prehend the devotion of Sophy. The truth was that the Queen 
 of Apahu was energetically throwing away the last remnants of 
 Rosamond Fane. 
 
 So he who was searching the world for Rosamond found a charm 
 in another woman that he had surely never known in that poor 
 child. His excuse must be that he came to her doubtful of him- 
 self and disheartened, and that his heart had lived empty all its 
 lifo, of all but hopes and memories, and these are sorry food. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 If thou could'st change each moment of thy past 
 Into the sands that marked it as they rolled, 
 
 And every sand, so scat tered, could'st recast 
 In time his crucible, to make it gold : 
 
 M 
 
 If from such gold a ring could forged be, . 
 
 And for a gem therein thine honour set 
 To wear upon his finger yet were he, 
 
 All unrepaid for even a moment's debt. 
 
 RS. DERWENT'S son Horace had not shown himself an 
 interprising lover; but he was at any rate a true one 
 And indeed, though his enterprise had stopped short of 
 the point of success, still it had been enough to achieve success 
 under all ordinary conditions. When a young man has persistently 
 called upon the mistress of his heart some half-dozen times only to 
 find out at last that her invariable "not at home" is untrue, it 
 would be natural enough that he, having obtained no claim upon 
 her, should conclude that his visits are disagreeable things, and 
 cease to make them. He could not write to her in the tone or 
 manner of a discarded lover : but he could make her uncle's de 
 an excuse far writing a letter which remained unanswered.
 
 266 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 was the manner in which Oswald Hargrave had, all unconsciously, 
 played into the hands of Hermon Rackstraw. And of course when 
 Sophy once changed her name and went out to service, Dr. Rack- 
 straw himself was able to take the whole play into his own hands. 
 In the face of such complete indifference even to his friendship, 
 end such proof that she classed him merely with common morning 
 callers and troublesome correspondents, it would have been strange 
 if the young man's enterprise had not frozen. The only wonder is 
 that he continued to care in any fashion for a girl who had dealt 
 such a mortal wound to what we call vanity in others and pride 
 in ourselves. 
 
 Perhaps he would have been somewhat less constant if he had^ 
 less than eight thousand a year ; at any rate if he had very much 
 less, because then he would have had to put the extinguisher of 
 work upon the spark that had, indeed, never been fanned into an 
 open flame. As things were, he had leisure to be broken-hearted, 
 and even as Sophy had turned misanthrope for his sake, so he 
 t urned misogynist for her's. One morning at breakfast he announced 
 his intention of leaving town. 
 
 " For Scotland already ? " asked his sister Anne. 
 
 " Scotland ! No, indeed. What on earth ehotdd anybody go 
 to Scotland for ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," said Ann. " To shoot things, or catch things, 
 I suppose. Isn't that whyyow go ? " 
 
 " I suppose it's why one's supposed to go. But it's got to be a 
 cockney sort of business at best. I'm thinking of trying Kamschatka 
 or Patagonia for a change. Which shall it be ? " 
 
 " Horace ! " exclaimed his mother. " But you're joking 
 
 " Indeed I'm not though. I've felt for a long time that I've been 
 wasting my life on such trumpery as grouse and venison when there 
 are tigers and bears " 
 
 " Tigers in Kamschatka ! oh ! " cried Anne. 
 
 " Well, elephants then, or or whales. Something big, either 
 way. You must see I'm wasting my life here, mother. Look at 
 other men. Look at Hargrave. Look at Harding. Look at 
 Ilackstraw. They've been everywhere and seen everything " 
 
 "Why, I believe you are serious ! " said Anne. "It's just like 
 what they do in books, when they have been rejected, or when the 
 girl dies. Only they mostly go to Africa after lions " 
 
 "Great Heavens ! " cried Horace, flushing, "can't a woman get 
 anything into her head without twisting it into love, ?oid marriage,
 
 A EEAL QUEEN. 267 
 
 nd all that rubbish ? I believe it's the only idea that girl*/ and 
 women have got among them. A fine world it would be, if rneti 
 were the same." 
 
 " Well, Horace," said Anne, gently, " I'm not sure it isn't a 
 better idea than killing things. Of the two ideas in the "world, 
 we've got the best of them. But oh, Horace to think you won't 
 find things just the same in Kamschatka as here ! And what on 
 earth will you do for a thirty-sixth flame ? Or, let me sea, thirty* 
 seven, reckoning that Miss Fane whom we invited, and who never 
 came : unless indeed the Kamschatkans are better looking than 
 
 their pictures are " 
 
 " Hang Miss Fane ! " exclaimed her once good-tempered lover, 
 who had let his sisters chaff him about his innumerable first 
 passions hundreds of times, and had never failed to laugh with 
 them. " Mount Athos that's were I'll go." 
 " Mount Athos ? Why ? " 
 " Because no woman is allowed to set foot there." 
 "Not allowed, Horace ? If she isn't allowed then depend upon 
 it a woman will be the fhst thing you'll see. Fancy expecting not 
 to find a woman where she isn't allowed ! A double knock, 
 this time ? Who can that be ? " 
 
 It was a gentleman to see Mr. Derwent : and, glad of the excuse 
 for he was ashamed of having lost temper he left the room. 
 
 " Mamma," said Anne, gravely, " something has happened to 
 Horace, I know." 
 
 " And this going abroad! My dear if it wasn't impossible, I 
 should be convinced he had been proposing to that Miss Fane." 
 
 " It's not impossible, mamma. He wouldn't have said ' Hang 
 Miss Fane ' if he didn't care. I brought her in on purpose to see. 
 If anybody said, ' Hang Anne Derwent,' I should know he was 
 thinking about me a good deal." 
 
 " It's impossible, Anne," said her mother, "because he wouldn't 
 have been talking about tigers and whales if she hadn't said No." 
 " But that's it she Jias said No." 
 
 " What a penniless orphan say No to Horace, with Lougwood 
 and eight thousand a year ? " 
 " But about his going abroad ? " 
 
 " I must consult Dr. Rack-straw," said Mrs. Derwent, with a 
 rather anxious sigh. " It might be for the besl^-I don't know. 
 And if Horace could go abroad under his eye Anne, I though! 
 at one time there might be a chauce of Horace and that
 
 268 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 Senhora Miranda, you know. She is quite a lady: and Dr. Rack- 
 straw says that the jewels she has brought over alone make her a 
 millionaire." 
 
 " A heathen ! Oh, mamma ! " 
 
 " Of course we should convert her. Dr. Rackstraw says con- 
 version's the easiest thing in the world he has known natives 
 who will let themselves be converted over and over again." 
 
 " Why doesn't Dr. Rackstraw marry her himself, mamma ? " 
 
 But to this Mrs. Derwent said nothing : and Anne was quite 
 sharp enough to guess why. 
 
 Meanwhile Horace had gone into his library (so he christened 
 his sanctum when he amazed the family circle by taking up with 
 book-collecting), and there found Oswald Hargrave. 
 
 " It is rather early for a visit," said Oswald. " But I'm always 
 in a hurry, you know and a curious document has come into my 
 hands in a curious way. You won't think me impertinent if I tell 
 you that I know you have a brother " 
 
 "A half brother, if you please," said Horace, flushing; for such 
 a beginning as this was not the way to get his temper back again. 
 " He was my father's son. I suppose you have some reason for 
 mentioning him. Well ? " 
 
 " Of course I have," said Oswald. " I would give the rest of my 
 life to find him if he is akve : and he is alive." 
 
 " You know Lawrence Derwent ? " 
 
 " Never. I never saw him even. But he alone knows what I 
 would give my life to know it is not that, however, that concerns 
 you : except that you can help me, and I am sure you will, when 
 I tell you why. ... I have every reason to know that but, 
 >y the way, what is your opinion of Dr. Rackstraw ? " 
 
 " Only that he'is a conceited cad," said Horace, frowning. " But 
 je has somehow become one of us my father had great confidence 
 in him : and I have no doubt it was deserved." 
 
 " It comes to this, then," said Oswald, " I connect this document, 
 which I have here, with a particular house, in which it has been 
 just by chance discovered. I connect that house with Moldwarp, 
 of whom you bought the Flora the most ingenious tf pro- 
 fessional forgers. I connect Moldwarp with Lawrence Derwent 
 and lastly, I connect Lawrence Derwent with this will. Ixxk at 
 it and see whether it concerns you or no." 
 
 Horace Derwent took the will, and glanced at it. But his 
 glance became a look of the most profound attention as ho ex-
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 269 
 
 amined every letter and every word. At last he folded it up 
 slowly and laid it down. 
 
 "It does concern me a little," he said, at laxt, slowly and 
 gravely. He lighted a cigar very carefully and deliberately, 
 and then spoke again. " I suppose you've read this ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Of course. It seems to be an old will in favour of Lawrence 
 Derwent. As to what it really is 
 " I know you think it's forged. Why ? " 
 " Because I know Silver Moldwarp : and because I suspect 
 Hermon Rackstraw. As you see, this is a will that would estab- 
 lish Lawrence Derwent's innocence. I have the best reason to be- 
 lieve that he is even now hidden in London, and in communication 
 with both Moldwarp and Rackstraw. Moreover I have even 
 better reason to believe that he was in communication with 
 Moldwarp at the time of his escape from Lowmoor. And look 
 the witnesses' names Silver Moldwarp Hermon Rackstraw. If 
 were it not forged, would it not have been brought forward long 
 before now ? Moldwarp has forged much more difficult things 
 than wills." 
 
 " I see. And who found it ? And where ? " 
 " Strangely enough, Madam Miranda. At Crossmarsh, near 
 Laxham : and near Lowmoor : and where Moldwarp was once in 
 service with the Fanes." 
 
 " Then your theory is this, Hargrave," said Horace, quietly 
 for all the world as if he were discussing another man's affairs : 
 " you think that Lawrence Derwent and Rackstraw have invented 
 a plot: that they have employed Moldwarp to forge and hide, 
 and Madam Miranda to go down and find ? " 
 
 Oswald started. That she also might be in the plot, whatever 
 it was, had never occurred to his mind ; though it was certainly 
 remarkable that she should not only have bought Crossmarsh in 
 such frantic haste, but have discovered a document bearing Rack- 
 straw's signature the very next day. Nor was his opinion of the 
 lady altered by his change of feeling fascination would naturally 
 be her stock in trade. 
 
 But "No," he answered quickly, "she would hardly have 
 parted with it to me : 
 
 "True. 'Crossmarsh, near Laxham,'" he eaid, noting the 
 address down. " Will you do me a favour, Hargrave or rather 
 several favours ? Don't say to any living soul a word of what
 
 270 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 you have said to me. And take charge of this will yoursolf : 
 don't let it come into my hands till I ask you for it in writing. 
 If you'll do this for me, I pledge myself that you shall meet 
 
 Lawrence Derwent, if he is in London, and alive 
 
 "Where an> you staying ? Where are you to be found ? " 
 
 "I must get down to Laxham to-night. Here is my addrsss 
 there. But about these conspirators what ia your plan ? You 
 know my interest in all this; to meet with Lawrence Der- 
 went " 
 
 "I have said you shall if he is alive. You won't think I 
 mistrust you, Hargrave, if I go to work alone ?" 
 
 " I am afraid you must act alone," said Oswald. " I have tried, 
 and failed ; and it is only you who can know how to deal with 
 Rackstraw. Of course I will say no word to a mortal soul ; and 
 of course, I will keep this forgery as long as you please." 
 
 There was an altogether new decision of tone and manner about 
 Horace that rather surprised Oswald, and at the same time gave 
 him greater confidence in his acquaintance's capacity for action 
 than he had hitherto been disposed to place in him. But then it 
 is true, that to have one's whole fortune attacked by a gang of 
 robbers is enough to find a man in energy and decision, however 
 little may have been given him by nature. And such a series of 
 accidents had renewed Oswald's faith that at last the work of his 
 life was about to prove not in vain. 
 
 But infinitely more surprised would he have been, could he 
 have seen Horace Derwent after the consultation was over and he 
 had gone his way. The young man tossed away his cigar, and 
 covered his face with his hands. 
 
 " My mother the girls what is to become of them f" he 
 groaned aloud. 
 
 For he knew it was no forgery that he had seen. He know 
 as a matter of family history, what the nature of his brother's 
 defence had been that he had, at his father's own request, des- 
 troyed the will disinheriting him, so as to make him safe in his 
 right as heir-at-law in case there should be no time for another 
 will to be made. He knew all the history of that death-bed as 
 no stringer, like Oswald, could guess them. And there were 
 solid reasons, besides his father's signature, and the kind of paper 
 the colonel had always used, and the allusions and turns of phrase 
 that nobody could possibly have reproduced, unless indeed it 
 might be Racks traw. Nobody could have done it but he; and
 
 A HEAL QUtfEN. 271 
 
 he would surely have not inspired the forgery of a will that 
 abused him in good round terms as a knave and a scoundrel who 
 had done all he could to make mischief hetween a father and hia 
 son. Nor would he have inspired a forgery that revoked a hand- 
 some legacy, and left him nothing at all. But, on the other hand, 
 that last reason made it his interest to suppress a will which as 
 his signature in witness showed, he knew had been made. 
 
 But why had he not destroyed it ? If he had only done his 
 work thoroughly, the younger son, whom he had served, would not 
 have had to wake up from his idle dream of life to find himself a 
 beggar in the land. Was it partly to keep himself from a terrible 
 temptation that he had bidden Oswald lieep the will? Very 
 honest men do not know what they are capable of until they are 
 tried. 
 
 " The infernal scoundrel ! And for the sake of a few thousands 
 he has robbed an heir of his inheritance, and sworn an innocent 
 man into gaol. And I have been amusing myself with stolen 
 goods all these years and my brother it is horrible ! What 
 has become of him ? What it must be to lose liberty, honour, 
 everything worth having on earth, and to think that thieves and 
 fools and idlers are pampering themselves on one's soul. . . 
 And my mother will have to know; and though he is my brother 
 
 he is not her son 
 
 So he thought and felt ; and yet not for one moment did it 
 enter even his very deepest heart to upbraid Rackstraw for not 
 having destroyed the will. Nor did he even hate Oswald Har- 
 grave for having meddled in another man's concerns. 
 
 There are cases in which one must be either a scoundrel or a 
 hero in which it is impossible to be merely an honest man. Had 
 Horace Derwent been tempted to frame such a wish, even in 
 thought, he would have been a worse man than Dr. Eackstraw, 
 who, after all, probably did not consider that he had done 
 unto others worse than they would have been justified in doing 
 unto him if they were able. Nevertheless, it is not common 
 honesty that does not think twice about the right and the wrong 
 of giving up a fine estate, a large fortune, and all the pleasures 
 and luxuries which have become the necessaries of life, and t 
 ruin one's nearest and dearest into the bargain, and all for tl 
 sake of one whom one has been brought up to fear, to hate, ai 
 to scorn. Common honesty would have done right ; but it wou 
 have thought twice about where the right lay, perhaps three times.
 
 272 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 lie did not see his mother hefore he left the house ; and for 
 the simple reason that he was afraid. All men think that all 
 women are more apt to judge by prejudice or interest than they ; 
 and, though he did not frame the thought, he felt that a mother so 
 wholly under the influence of Dr. Rackstraw, would not be entirely 
 competent to advise her own son to ruin both himself and her. 
 And why should he call upon her to face trouble before he could 
 tell her its extent, or suggest how it was to. be remedied ? So, 
 without a moment's delay, he went out and drove straight to the 
 Agency-General of the Goblin Islands. He thought, in the 
 conceit of good intentions, that he would be able to compel a 
 confession from one who, being a knave, ought, according to a 
 common superstition, to be a coward besides, and no match for 
 resolute honesty. 
 
 It was more fortunate for the knave than for honesty, however, 
 that Dr. Rackstraw was not within. 
 
 " I will wait/' said Horace, to the sharp lad, " till he comes 
 in." 
 
 " I'm afraid you'll have to wait a goodish while, Mr. Derwent," 
 said the sharp lad. " The Doctor's gone to the Goblins." 
 
 There was nothing unusual in that, for Dr. Rackstraw thought 
 nothing of a sudden trip to the Antipodes and back again, and, 
 more often than not, said nothing before hand about such ex- 
 peditions, any more than if Port Rackstraw, or Atlantis, or 
 Xanadu, or wherever he might have business in cotton, hardware 
 or rum, were but just across the Thames. Had Horace been 
 aware of the Doctor's close relations with Senhora Miranda, and 
 of his feelings towards Sophy Fane, he would no doubt have been 
 very much surprised by such sudden and unreasonable absence : 
 as it was, he was only disappointed. For it was the last pitch of 
 cruelty to leave justice undone and injustice triumphant even for 
 a single hour. 
 
 The next best thing he could do was to set to work upon Mold- 
 warp whom Hardgrave had no doubt rightly judged to be 
 implicated though in the concealment, and not in any forgery, 
 the last being utterly out of the question. He remembered the 
 shop where he had bought that new historical Flora for ./Eneas 
 Fane ; and was this time fortunate enough to find the person he 
 wanted at home. 
 
 " It's a time since you've been our way, sir," said the bookseller, 
 politely, " I suppose you're like the rest of 'em ; everybody's f ouud
 
 A PEAL QUEEN 273 
 
 out now where books is to he picked up like flint stones, for the 
 price of an old song. I've got borne real uniques, that'll be worth 
 their weight in gold in a year or two, but I can t afford to keep 
 'em these bad times, and you may make your fortune out of 
 
 'em. Here's " 
 
 " I have seen a will executed by my father, Colonel Dement," 
 fa id Horace, at once, "and witnessed by you and Dr. Rackstraw. 
 I want the address of my brother, Mr. Lawrence Derwent, if 
 you please." 
 
 "The Devil! " exclaimed the bookseller: a heavy folio falling 
 from his hands and raising a dust from the floor. 
 
 " You had better lose no time," said Horace. " I am in a hurry 
 and there is none to lose. It will save fencing if I tell you 
 at once that a will has been found at a place called Crossmarsh, 
 and that it has come into my hands. I am told also that my 
 brother is in London, and that you know where." 
 
 Moldwarp raised the folio, dusted it, and found a place for it on 
 the shelves. Then he took his gold spectacles, carefully rubbed 
 the glasses, and returned them to his nose. 
 
 " Mr. Derwent, sir," said he, " then all I can say is, now you've 
 got hold of the thing, nothing could please me more : no, nor half 
 so well. Of course you'll say I ought to have destroyed that 
 there will. And you'd be right, sir. For once, instinc' has led 
 me wrong. No 'twasn't instinc', neither ; 'twas because for once 
 tried to be too wise for instinc' ; that's what it were. And I'll 
 never do it again. I ask your pardon for not having destroyed 
 that there will, Mr. Derwent on my bended knees, I do." 
 
 It no more entered the heart of Silver Moldwarp that 
 Rackstraw and Horace Derwent together, or Horace Derwent 
 alone, had not destroyed the will which unlucky chance had 
 brought into their hands, than he could imagine any other pos- 
 sible" combination of circumstances under which a man would 
 risk the loss of eight thousand a year. But it took Horace 
 at least a whole second to realise that Moldwarp assumed him to 
 be, as a matter of course, an accomplice in the original fraud at 
 any rate after the fact : and this moment gave the other time to 
 shift his ground further still. 
 
 For the game was up, anyhow, so far as making his fortune out 
 of the rightful heir was concerned. He could only curse the 
 evident stupidity of that rightful heir, who must have bungled 
 matters in a most marvellous manner before the will could have 
 
 18
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 come in those hands to whom its existence meant ruin. " Tis 
 iust my regular luck all over "again," he mentally groaned, " First 
 and foremost I lose iny place with old Squire Fane : and all by 
 chance like, and no fault of mine. Then I fall out with old Rack- 
 straw, for him being ungrateful no fault of mine again. Then I 
 go and trust a fool. Tis hard. Instinc's own self s no match for 
 a fool. I do believe if instinc' led me straight down to the bottom 
 of the diamond mines, some fool would go and cut away the rope 
 T came down by. 'Tis enough to make an honest man give up in- 
 stinc' and turn Rogue." 
 
 He saw, as plainly as he could see other men's blunders, that 
 Lawrence Derwent must have bungled matters in such wise as to 
 let the will slip back again into the hands of Rackstraw ; and his 
 knees felt ready to bend themselves with shame and reverence be- 
 fore that great and unconquerable man. Remorse and repentance 
 overwhelmed him for having dared to pit his wits against those 
 of his master, who was no doubt. aware of the whole extent of his 
 treachery in the interests of justice and law. There was only one 
 thing to be done to return abjectly to his allegiance, and to make 
 the best bargain left him. 
 
 " You see, sir," said he, " now that document's back again in 
 the right hands which in course is yours and the Doctor's there's 
 no harm done. And you're quite right : you nor yours will get no 
 peace till that there Lawrence is safe again in gaol. I tell you, 
 Mister, he's a regular dangerous man : and he'll now be that des- 
 perate, now he's lost his rights I should say his chances that 
 your life won't bt? worth a minute's purchase ; nor Rackstraw's nor 
 mine. I'll do, to rectify my bit of a mistake through not trusting 
 instinc', the best I can. You're a gentleman, Mister : and I'm but 
 an unlucky customer that's come to grief by no fault of his own ' 
 
 " I understand," said Horace, with a passion of indignant scorn 
 too deep to express itself in word or tone. " You were employed 
 iy Dr. Rackstraw to destroy the will, in order to cheat Lawrence 
 Derwent. Instead of destroying it, you concealed it, in order to 
 diieat Dr. Rackstraw. Because you could not get as much black 
 mail as you wanted, I suppose, you try to sell the will back to 
 Lawrence Derwent. Finding the will in my hands, you are will- 
 ing to sell Lawrence Derwent to Dr. Rackstraw, Lowmoor, and me. 
 Very well. I will buy him such perseverance ought not to go 
 without reward. What was Lawrence Derwent to give you for 
 his estate and his good name? "
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 275 
 
 " No, sir no, Mr. Derwent ! If I'd destroyed that there will 1 
 should have committed a crime. And if Dr. Rackstraw chose to 
 be ungrateful, that was no fault of mine. And if I tried to get 
 back the will for its lawful owner, that was no fault of mine. And 
 if I consent to give up a convict 'tis hard times, Mister: for 
 though duty's duty, like instinc's instinc', that there convict he 
 promised me ten thousand pounds : which is a goodish bit to lose." 
 
 " And for how much if you had one would you sell your 
 soul?" 
 
 " Well, sir it seems to me Kackstraw's selling his pretty cheap, 
 and your selling yours pretty dear. As there's souls going, I 
 don't see why I shouldn't go to market with mine." 
 
 " It is certainly hard you should sell it for nothing. Of course 
 you are putting yourself in a position to renew the black mail 
 trade so we can talk afterwards of terms. Where is Lawrence 
 Derwent now ? " 
 
 "Begging your pardon, Mister, you seem to take uncommon 
 kindly to the trade. When old Rackstraw goes off, he won't want 
 for a better to come after. Well 'tis all the same to me, since 
 you put it like a gentleman. There's only one bit of advice to 
 give you, sir. You shouldn't have let me know you'd seen that 
 will. You see, sir, that puts you in a man's power. But for the 
 rest, Mr. Derwent, you've done it beautiful: well-nigh as well as 
 Rackstraw." 
 
 " Then where is Lawrence Derwent to be found ? " 
 
 " Where that will come from, to be sure. Crossmarsh : Low- 
 moor all handy by." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Though way-worn steps for refuge seek 
 
 Where hands that builded well, 
 Of Duty raised on granite peak 
 
 The maiden citadel : 
 
 WHEN Oswald had taken his departure, Sophy, lier at. 
 tendance on her sovereign not being immediately re- 
 quired, set out upon a tour of exploration over the old 
 house, from which she had been absent very nearly as long a 
 Rosamond. Not being of a sentimental nature, nor a slave to 
 association, its nooks and corners had but little significance for her 
 
 18 JL
 
 276 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 save as signs of a childhood that she had almost forgotten and did 
 not wish to recall. Still she could not help having a natural 
 curiosity about seeing how the old place looked, and how far it had 
 changed. It was wonderful, now that she saw it by day-light 
 and in sunshine, how little change she was able to find. 
 
 Naturally, in the course of her rambles upstairs and downstairs 
 she arrived at length at the passage leading to Rosamond's castle. 
 But, from the far end of the passage, she heard the sound of voices : 
 and, when she reached the castle door, found a couple of workmen 
 busily engaged. 
 
 " What is being done here ? " asked she. 
 
 " Only doing Madam's orders, miss," said one of the men, " to 
 fasten up this here door we've finished the trap inside. And a 
 good job too." 
 
 " How strange ! Why does Madame Miranda want to close 
 this room ? " 
 
 " Yes, miss : and we've to brick up the passage. And a good 
 job too, as I said afore." 
 
 "It's a very strange order, pondered Sophy. And why do you 
 call it a good job, please ? " she had become to some extent used 
 to the caprices of her mistress ; but this sudden order, to brick off 
 a passage and a couple of rooms for no imaginable cause, seemed 
 to go beyond the bounds of even uncivilised eccentricity. 
 
 The two men looked at one another, as if to consult before an- 
 swering the question. The village mind is prodigal with hints ; 
 but it is a dangerous thing to be the first to give a haunted house 
 a bad name. It may drive away money from a place, as well as 
 residents and their company : and so, all who take haunted houses 
 learn to their cost, they have at last to find out from their 
 servants the sort of purchase with which they have saddled them- 
 selves. 
 
 " Well, miss," said one, " Madam didn't say why but maybe 
 'tis foreign fashions " 
 
 " But you said it was a good job yourself," said Sophy, persis- 
 tently. One need not be sentimental in order to feel aggrieved at 
 a new owner's taking liberties with a house that was one's own 
 but a few days ago. Nay, the feeling is sure to rise up even when 
 the days are years. For our house is but our outward body ; and 
 our life is its soul. 
 
 " Yes, miss most jobs are good, these times " 
 
 " No," said Sophy, getting provoked, and using her quick eyes.
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 277 
 
 " You didn't mean that. la there anything-said-said about thia 
 room ? " 
 
 "Well, miss if you put it that way " 
 
 " Yes : 1 put it that way." 
 
 " Then 'tisn't me nor my mate here that says it, miss; but 
 'twas in that room Old Harry carried off Miss Fane " 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " Yes, miss ; it do sound queer. But that's the tale. And when 
 a room gets thought on like that " 
 
 " I see ; it is best closed." 
 
 So she wandered back again to the staircase, supposing that 
 some idle nonsense had already found its way to the Queen's ears, 
 and wondering that a woman of such shrewdness should be such 
 a slave to her native heathen superstitions as to imagine that a 
 disembodied phantom could be imprisoned by bricks and nails. 
 
 And no doubt, it was superstition ; though not quite of the 
 gross kind that Sophy supposed. Rosamond's panic of last night, 
 when she dashed her lamp away into the darkness had been ex- 
 treme. It was a sudden and violent renewal of the old influence 
 that had well-nigh driven her into brain fever years ago : and it 
 was a great deal more. It was as if one were suddenly, when full 
 grown, to meev in sober earnest with some imaginary horror that 
 had been the i read of one's childhood that horror which, if one 
 lives to be a hundred, one never forgets, come what may. Her 
 very first tho aght, when the sunlight came, was to close this book 
 of her whole lif t for ever, before returning to her Arcadian people 
 and their golden age. And the wood and brickwork she had 
 ordered was b it the natural, outward and visible sign of that final 
 closure. The-.e was something terrible about that old room of 
 hers, but tb > -e was something sacred also. Its further use would 
 be fully sit \ nuch profanation as peril. For that room was the 
 tomb of all her hopes and all her dreams : it was haunted indeed. 
 And all nations dose their graves. 
 
 In this manner she settled all accounts with her past : it was as if 
 she had travelled all the way from the other side of the world solely 
 to fasten the door of an empty room. She had only to make ono 
 last pilgrimage to certain old haunts and scenes before blotting 
 them all out altogether. Nor, since Oswald's faithlessness and in- 
 difference to his kindred in friendship, was her last pilgrimage 
 touched by any sort of regret or sorrow. She had convinced her-
 
 178 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 self that it was her pleasure as well as her duty and her destiny 
 to leave all behind, and she had not, even in London, lost the 
 health which enabled her to face the future, though a Queen 
 and alone. She did not even regret having come to England . 
 It was only right to know the worst, and not to live in a fool's 
 paradise of illusions. 
 
 So she purposely rid herself of her secretary's company before 
 strolling off to the cliff path whence she was supposed to have 
 thrown herself into the sea, and to the boathouse on the beach, 
 and to Crossmarsh Church, and to Pix-Knoll. That mine of im- 
 posture still showed the excavations, longwise and crosswise, from 
 which her uncle had sought to recover the history of the prehis- 
 toric world: but the grass had invaded these works from the 
 Downs, and was covering away the old Squire's folly. 
 
 As she rambled, she more and more consciously and resolutely 
 forced her thoughts away from herself, and bent them upon what she 
 should do for her people, for whom she must henceforth live wholly, 
 and whom she must strive to love, for her own sake as well as for 
 theirs to the utmost of her power. And she could reach but one 
 conclusion she could not perceive that England, with all its great- 
 ness, had given her anything to carry back to Apahu. Even the 
 religious part of the question was ceasing to trouble her, and for 
 what seemed to her the best of all reasons: that by their fruits 
 are nations to be known and that to seek to carry grapes and 
 figs from a country where men only preach to one where they 
 however ignorantly practised would be a fool's labour. She had 
 no sort of doubt herself as to what she had learned in the very 
 church where she had been christened and under which she was 
 standing ; but she could not comprehend how the Christianity of 
 a country whose people regard money as of value could be worth 
 exporting to one which thought doing right the only thing about 
 which any sane creature could care. And then there was Low- 
 moor, within but a few miles of her. To bring England to Apahu 
 would be to bring its gaols : for what is civilisation without a 
 gaol, and all that leads there ? Surely, she thought, what we 
 are, and not what we call ourselves, is the great thing. They 
 were right Apahu ought not to be so much as named across the 
 sea. Well ; it shall never be named or heard of again. 
 
 It had been a solemn day for her, but, though melancholy as 
 well as solemn, not wholly unhappy, and she returned late in the 
 afternoon to the bouse in a quieter mood of mind, and with better
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 279 
 
 courage for the future, than since she had left her kingdom. She 
 had persuaded herself that Rosamond Fane was buried in her 
 empty bower, and that nothing remained alive but the duties of 
 Queen Ngahoung. 
 
 Sophy also had left the house, so she learned from Mrs. Crow, who 
 was acting for the present as cook and housekeeper, and had not 
 yet returned. Rosamond was a little vexed, for, having thought 
 so much, she wanted to talk a little, and she learned to need the 
 companion who seemed to worship her, and was vowed to follow 
 her to the other end of the world. However it was natural 
 enough that Miss Gray should be making the most of a first day 
 of country freedom by the sea. But Rosamond was not fated to 
 be, left without company, for she had not settled herself in the 
 drawing-room window over a book for half an hour, when Mrs. 
 Crow disturbed her with the announcement of a gentleman to see 
 her. 
 
 " Mr. Hargrave, again ? " asked she, with a frown. 
 
 " Oh no, my lady," answered Mrs. Crow for some vague idea 
 of the new comer's rank had followed her down even to Cross- 
 marsh, in the unaccountable manner of such things. " He's Mr. 
 Derwent, says he." 
 
 Rosamond sighed : for she had made up her mind to cut herself 
 adrift at once from every English connection and especially from 
 those which had to do with Rackstraw. Her acquaintance with 
 the Derwents was slight enough, but still it had to do altogether 
 with Rackstraw : and what should so slight an acquaintance mean 
 by coming down upon her here ? Had her professor of civilisation 
 discovered her flight, and did he intend to return ? If so, then 
 he should see that she intended to rebel: for the Doctor's guidance 
 had become exceedingly like tyranny now that she knew how to 
 walk alone. 
 
 However, there was nothing for it but to receive him graciously, 
 and to hear what he had to say. 
 
 She hardly knew him by sight: and indeed his mood, on the 
 occasion of her introduction to English society at hia mother's 
 house, was not such as to enable him to remember her very clearly 
 he had been the only man there who had been impression proof 
 during the short season of her being the rage. 
 
 " I am on too important business to apologise for intruding on 
 you, Madam," said he. "I understand it was you who discovered 
 my father's, Colonel Derwent's will."
 
 28o A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 " Oh that paper ! " said she, relieved : for she had forgotten 
 that insignificant accident of her adventure. " Yes : I found a 
 paper which I gave to Mr. Hargrave. Is there anything you want 
 to ask me ? Though I hardly guess what it can be." 
 
 " Surely, Madam, you know " 
 
 " Indeed I do not, Mr. Derwent," said she, a little proudly 
 Queens are not used to contradiction, even in Apahu ; and hence- 
 forth she was to be more than ever a Queen. 
 
 " Of course you know that your forwarding me that document 
 through Mr. Hargrave gave me only one thing to do ; and I thank 
 you with all my heart for letting there be no delay. Can I see 
 my brother at once now ? " 
 
 " Your brother, Mr. Derwent ? " asked Rosamond, beginning to 
 wonder if the young man was quite right in his mind. 
 
 " My brother Lawrence Derwent, who is staying with you." 
 
 " You are under some strange mistake, sir. I have nobody with 
 me but my friend, Miss Gray. As to Lawrence Derwent, I never 
 heard the name." 
 
 " Did he not come down here to find this very will ? Did you 
 not find it just where he knew it was to be found ? Did you not 
 know from him that it gave him back what I .have been robbing 
 him of nearly all my life " 
 
 For how can men judge but by their own natures ? Even as 
 Silver Moldwarp assumed that the will could not come into the 
 hands of Horace without instant destruction, so Horace took for 
 granted that it had been forwarded to him in the confidence that 
 he would do justice. And, instructed by Moldwarp, he could only 
 suppose that this lady was aiding the rightful heir in this affair. 
 It was natural that Lawrence should keep in the background 
 until his innocence as well as his rights should be made amply 
 clear. 
 
 " Pray explain yourself," said Rosamond, with a touch of im- 
 patience. " I never heard of your brother, or knew you had one. 
 I found this will by the merest chance in a cupboard, in a lumber 
 room, under a trap door " 
 
 " Yes : exactly where he was told. Madam," he went on, 
 eagerly, in a lew quick voice, " I thank you with all my heart for 
 your protection of my infamously wronged brother : but there h 
 no need for your loyal, generous secrecy any more. Let me see 
 him face to face, and take his hand if he will give it me : I coine 
 to give him back his rights and his good name."
 
 A PEAL QUEEN. 281 
 
 Rosamond could only wait for light. He could only take her 
 silence for hesitation. 
 
 " You and he trusted me with the will," said he. " Can you 
 doubt my good faith now? You see I have not lost a single 
 moment in coming down. Imagine if you can, what it is to me 
 to have had all my brother's wealth, and to have been in his place, 
 whiln he has been a martyr to villainy a convict: an out-law : " 
 
 "I think I understand," said Rosamond, thoughtfully, " that you 
 are come here to do some just or generous thing. And so I am 
 glad of the chance that made me find the will. Will it cost you 
 much money to do what you wish to do ? r 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, Madam," cried Horace, " don't keep me on 
 the rack any more. Don't you know that every penny I possess 
 on earth, and every inch of ground, is shown by that will to be 
 my brother's, and that I have come to give back to him all to 
 him, who has been made a felon in trying to rob me, while I. 
 though not knowing it thank God for that have been robbing 
 him of wealth, honour and all ? " 
 
 Very different indeed was the young man whom Rosamond saw 
 and heard from him who examined Moldwarp so quietly. The 
 Queen gave him her hand, with a royal smile. 
 
 " Why, here is one at last who only thinks of doing right ! " 
 said she : thinking of what her thoughts had been in the church- 
 yard that very day. 
 
 " I should be a greater cad than Rackstraw else," said he : not 
 caring to remember that the Doctor was this lady's friend. " But 
 as to my brother " 
 
 " You want to see him, of course : instantly. I understand now. 
 If I knew where he was ! But I told you simple truth when I 
 said I never heard of him, or his name. What made you think 
 he was here ? " 
 
 " Because he knew where this will was to be found. Thank 
 Heaven, any way, that it came into my hands first and thank you 
 too for that, Madam. It is something that I may give him back 
 his own freely, and with my own hands." 
 
 " I should think it would not be very difficult to find him," said 
 Rosamond, " considering what he is wanted for if he was coming 
 here to search, as you say, perhaps he will come, still." 
 
 "But you don't know all," said Horace, bitterly. " He is in tli t 
 position of a convicted felon, who escaped from gaol from I^ow- 
 moor. He would not dare to risk an open search
 
 282 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 " Escaped from Lowmoor ! " exclaimed Rosamond, wlio could 
 almost fancy that she again heard that signal gun which had 
 broken her life in two. " There have been but two escapes from 
 Lowmoor: one man was dashed to pieces over Furnace Point : 
 the other Ah ! then when he called himself guiltless, it was true : 
 and he must have been hidden in the same room with this very 
 will why did he not find it then ? Oh, God, what I should have- 
 been spared ! " 
 
 She had forgotten herself and her part : and no wonder, for to 
 her all was as clear as day. Indeed she had become blind to her 
 companion's presence in the hideous knowledge that her life had 
 been cursed and her heart well-nigh broken by reason that 
 Lawrence Derwent had not discovered a scrap of paper that had 
 been literally under his very fingers for days. 
 
 " Madam ! What made you start when I named Lowmoor ? 
 Then you do know " 
 
 " Forgive me: I'm afraid I was startled I only mean that what 
 you have said yes : you may be at ease : I do know your brother 
 after all : I do know where he is to be found. But I know him 
 under another name and there are reasons why he must never 
 know nor hear of me. And so long as you meet him, it is enough 
 for you and for him ; you will not ask my reasons, and he will not 
 know from whom your knowledge comes and indeed before you 
 can meet, I mean to be far away. Have a little patience; for all 
 this means as much to me as to you ah, and more. Have a little 
 patience; he nor you can lose by it, and I shall gain all I have 
 left to gain. Forget all I said just now. You shall meet your 
 brother ; but it must be in my own way." For she had not closed 
 the tomb in order that her life might be haunted still, or buried 
 her past self in order that he whom she had recognised with 
 terror in the man from Nevada should recognise Rosamond Fane 
 in the Queen of Apahu. It would be easy to make her escape 
 unbetrayed so long as sha kept matters in her own hands. " I 
 promise you," she said, holding out her hand, " on the word of a 
 Queen . . . Ah, Sophy you are a good child to have found 
 so much to say to the sun and the wind, as we say at home. Mr. 
 Derwent, this ia my dear friend and daughter, Miss Gray." 
 
 " Good God Sophy ! " cried he ; " Miss Fane ! " 
 
 Sophy bent herself towards him coldly and proudly. But, 
 hearing her name spoken, and all miserable at meeting this false 
 friend,she stood trembling like a detected imposjtor before the Queeu,
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Yet soon as from the vale below 
 
 A breath hath reached their air, 
 The granite crumbles as the snow, 
 
 And Duty bideth Where ? 
 
 was too far advanced for anything but a lover's 
 recognition of his lost mistress ; so that Sophy's down- 
 cast and tearful eyes did not perceive how the Queen's looks 
 received evidence of an untruth which, however slight, should 
 unfit any creature for the society of Apahu. 
 
 "Mr. Derwent," said Rosamond, in a voice that seemed to 
 tremble faintly, as with vibrations that follow the stroke of a 
 bell, " you have my promise I will see you to-morrow, at what- 
 ever hour you come. I can say nothing more till then." 
 
 "I will come," said he, and it waa to Sophy he spoke though 
 he addressed the Queen. " I trust your promise, Madam. And 
 you may trust mine, that not one of these mysteries in which you 
 live shall remain by the time to-morrow is gone." 
 
 So he went back to where he had met Moldwarp at the 
 " Feathers," hardly knowing, at the last, whether this woman were 
 friend or foe ; yet failing to imagine how or why she could be 
 otherwise than friend. Had it not been for that sudden sight of 
 Sophy, and in her company, he might not have let himself be dis- 
 missed in such royal fashion. And could it be Senhora Miranda 
 who was at any rate his enemy there ? 
 
 " Madam" began Sophy. 
 
 Rosamond was silent. 
 
 "It is quite true. I am Miss Fane from whom you bought 
 Crussmarsh. I had a reason for not wishing for not wanting to 
 keep my name ; of course it had nothing to do with you ; and it 
 seemed wise at the time : and Dr. Rackstraw advised 
 
 " I have never told you my story," said Rosamond. u I will 
 tell you it now." 
 
 " You are not angry, then, Madam ? " 
 
 " You shall see. Had you ever a sister P " 
 
 " Yes, indeed -" 
 
 " What became of her?" 
 
 " It ia a sad stry, Madam. Something happened to her brain
 
 2^4 ^ REAL QUEEN. 
 
 and she she fell one night over the cliffs : close by here. We 
 we never lived here after that time." 
 
 " I once knew a woman who had a wonderful story. She had 
 a sister like you. She, too, lived close by the sea. She was an 
 odd sort of girl, living all alone with her owu f Dolish plans and 
 fancies, until she was fifteen years old." 
 
 " Our poor .Rosamond's age ! " said Sophy : wondering what 
 all this preface could mean, relieved at having escaped in- 
 stant dismissal, but giving all her real thoughts to that un- 
 looked-for meeting with him on whose account she was going 
 into exile. 
 
 " Indeed ? "Well," said Rosamond, " I suppose we have both 
 known what fifteen means. A poor fellow, wrongfully imprisoned, 
 had escaped from gaol " 
 
 " I thought there were no prisons in Apahu ? " 
 
 " Nor ever shall be. This was not in Apahu He 
 
 threw himself upon the protection of this girl. She concealed 
 him, and helped him to escape from his enemies. But he did not 
 trust her. He left the land in a boat : and that there mipht 
 be no witness of escape, he forced her away with him away 
 from sister, friends, home, without a word to say how or where or 
 why she had gone, or if she would ever return. Think, if you can, 
 what that voyage must have been : for they were carried by a 
 passing ship to the other side of the world : and not a word or 
 sign could she send home. At last there came a storm, and the 
 ship went down. The girl was saved, and thrown by the sea upon 
 a shore that none but they who dwell on it have ever seen. It ia 
 laid down on no map ; no ship ever passes by : it is another world 
 than ours, in all its thoughts and ways. The people thought this 
 pirl borne there by miracle from the sea, which divides the world 
 of men from the world of spirits ; and they made her Queen. 
 They were good ; but she became more and more unhappy, year 
 by year, and day by day. . . . You have had a home ; a 
 sister ; you will know why. . . . At last what she thought 
 was miracle allowed her to escape are you listening ? " 
 
 " Indeed, Madam, I am ! " 
 
 " She took certain vows to the gods of her people, and hastened 
 home Oh, what hopes and fears ! But her Uncle ./Eneas waa 
 dead, and her sister Sophy " 
 
 Sophy gave a cry, and started to her feet. " What are you 
 telling me ? What does all this story mean ? "
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 2 ^ 
 
 Rosamond opened her arms, and her heart 
 
 " Oh, Sophy, Sophy Don't you see ? I am Rosamond come 
 back from the grave ! " 
 
 It was the supreme moment for which her whole soul had been 
 hungering-, and of which it had at last learned to despair. But 
 there was no more despair now all was forgotten and swept 
 away, save that she and Sophy were together at Crossmarsh again 
 once more. Home became home in an instant's flash ! Apahu 
 became the dream. She sobbed with joy joy that had been 
 suppressed and distorted into one great heart-ache for twelve long 
 years. 
 
 But alas ! It was not thus with Sophy. She had not been 
 living and breathing in one thought all this while. She had 
 mourned and wept for her dead sister like the quick-hearted child 
 of April that she had been from the beginning ; and then, in 
 her life of travel abroad, in her studying, her pleasures, and her 
 excitements, she had lived in a new small life nearly every day. 
 Rosamond had been talked about until the subject was worn out: 
 and then not talked about until she had become, if not a myth, 
 yet a family legend. And then came the other household troubles : 
 and then had entered into Sophy's life that element which well- 
 nigh slays all others. The memory of a dead sister can scarcely 
 < ount for much against the fact of a living lover, be he false or 
 liue. 
 
 This woman Rosamond ? Why, she had well-nigh forgotten 
 Rosamond's very features, save in the very vaguest way. And 
 then it was as yet all too real to understand bewildered as Sophy 
 was, such an undreamed of resurrection filled her less with joy 
 than with dismay. 
 
 There is surely no such mistake in the universe as to return from 
 one's grave. Let every corpse rest at peace ; let it assure itself 
 that its survivors are very far from being heart-broken. It will 
 only come back to lose its way among a labyrinth of new growths, 
 and find its place filled. Rosamond had been put away and for- 
 gotten ; and Sophy, instead of being overjoyed, was only amazed. 
 
 But Rosamond felt for Sophy as well as for herself, and gave 
 herself welcome. 
 
 " Oh, Sophy," she cried, pressing her sister to her heart, " I am 
 glad of everything now ; I am glad that I learned to like you and 
 love you for yourself before I found out who you are. And to 
 think that we two have been living together all this time without
 
 286 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 guessing and I, trying to find you and hear of you while you 
 were with me all this time I thought at last you were dead< 
 just as you thought me. Don't let us tell all our stories yet let 
 us feel that we are together again, just as we used to be." 
 
 " You are Rosamond ? " asked Sophy, with a sort of awe. 
 
 " And you are Sophy and I don't know what to do and what 
 to say. I have been dead a Queen of shadows for years. My 
 dear, my dear don't speak to me ; let me wait till I feel awake 
 and alive." 
 
 And indeed Sophy was glad enough to wait ; for she also knew 
 not what to do or what to say. She could not at two-and- 
 twenty, take up life again, all at once from the point where it was 
 broken off at twelve years old. Nor was this Rosamond the Rosa- 
 mond who had been lost, after all. This foreign Queen, with her 
 barbarous jewels, her high thoughts, and her strange ways, was not 
 the dimly remembered sister who used to hide in the lumber room. 
 
 However, Rosamond herself as yet missed nothing, because she 
 knew, or thought she knew, how she would have felt had she 
 been Sophy, and Sophy she. They sat together, hand in hand, 
 while she poured out a thousand questions and told a thousand 
 things ; too many thousands to tell coherently what they were. 
 She had to ask of her uncle's last hours, of Sophy's foreign life ; 
 of how Crossmarsh came to be sold ; of Silver Moldwarp ; of all 
 things and creatures save Oswald HargTave alone. And she had 
 to tell of her strange life in a strange land, and how her spirit 
 sickened till it almost died, and how her heart had gone out to 
 Sophy the first time they met 
 
 "And no wonder ! " said she. " But why did you come to me 
 in another name ? " 
 
 " Dr. Rackstraw said " faltered Sophy. 
 
 " And what do you know of Dr. Rackstraw ? "What had you 
 to do with him ? And you know Mr. Derwent ? And Sophy 
 I have learned how all this happened but never mind all that. 
 We will forget everything except that we are together, and you 
 and I don't cry, dear, it is all over now." 
 
 But it was Rosamond herself who was crying, and did not 
 know. 
 
 " Are you still going back ? " asked Sophy, " to Apahu " 
 
 " You haven't once called me Rosamond ! " 
 
 " Rosamond ? " Sophy finished her question. " But it it 
 all so strange Rosamond ! I feel in a dream "
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 2g 7 
 
 Rosamond shuddered : and all her royal duties shrivelled up 
 and were no more. " No, dearest : they will do without me now. 
 They have done without me for ages, and will for ages more. But 
 I can't do without you and home. We will go on living here, 
 just as we planned when we were children : I am going to blot 
 out all that has happened as if it were a nightmare, and I am 
 going to be fifteen years old. Yesterday was my fifteenth birth- 
 day, you know : and you will be thirteen next June. If only poor 
 Uncle ^Eneas were alive ! But for the rest we will be as we used 
 to be, all but the castle, which shall be blotted out like the night- 
 mare ; and I am rich enough for both terribly rich : richer than 
 anybody knows. I soon found out in England what diamonds 
 and rubies mean, and Dr. Rackstraw has taught me a great deal, 
 Yes, we will go on living here all by ourselves, and never change. 
 . . . 1 suppose I shall have to be a nine days' wonder : but 
 never mind. It won't matter here. Whatever happens I must 
 be Rosamond Fane once more." 
 
 " And your people ? " asked Sophy, who by no means felt 
 fascinated, after her vision of a golden age in the tropics, by the 
 prospect of an old maid's life in a village she had learned to abhor. 
 
 " I have no people," said Rosamond. " They are all a dream. 
 .... Yes, I have : you are my people, Sophy." 
 
 Alas ! Sophy began to feel that, despite her abdication, her 
 long lost, unknown, scarcely welcome sister did not mear to cease 
 to be a Queen. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 When nations rise to pull their tyrants down, 
 Each blood-stained hand is given a hero's crown : 
 Dies Freedom's right because, when wrong is done. 
 A nation's sword is many mine but one ? 
 
 nnHAT same evening Oswald Hargrave, having transacted his 
 business at Laxham indeed having there wound up all 
 that remained, so far as he was concerned, of the con- 
 veyance of Crossmarsh and the mortgage of Windgates in order 
 to provide the security on which the conveyance had been made 
 conditional rode over to the " Feathers" where he had often put 
 i;p on occasion. The present occasion (so he told himself) was 
 the duty of calling on Sophy next morning in order to give her a 
 clear understanding of all that had been done in her interest : but 
 more especially to make yet one more attempt to compel her to
 
 288 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 see the madness of sailing for a non-existent island in company 
 with an adventuress whom he vehemently suspected of being the 
 confederate of a knave. 
 
 But this was no more his real purpose than are the purposes 
 which we believe to be ours, really ours, nine times out of ten. 
 Adventuress as Senhora Miranda might be, her influence was upon 
 the man whose nearest approach to love had been the resolution 
 to some day marry a child who had perished long ago. Whether 
 there was any occult recognition, others must decide : and we all 
 have read or heard of how Carolan the minstrel, when old and 
 blind, recognised by the mere touch of her finger the lady whom 
 he had known and loved when both were young. It may be so : 
 though it is hard to believe that either touch, or glance, or voice, 
 or anything more subtle still, could connect Queen Ngahoung of 
 Apahu with Rosamond Fane. If this is to account for her influence 
 one must be driven to compass the secret of it with the magical 
 perfume of a flower, which will bring back with it phantom 
 memories so far off as to belong to times utterly forgotten per- 
 haps of the world in which our souls were bom : which may, or 
 may not be, beyond the moon. One need not wander away so far 
 as that to discover why a man who has lived the life of a knight er- 
 rant under the vows of a monk should feel the fascination of a 
 strange and beautiful woman, with all the prestige of mystery and a 
 certain witchcraft of her own about her, adventuress though she be. 
 
 In short, he feared for his own constancy : being deceived as the 
 needle of a compass might be, which, having been held for years 
 to the east by a certain magnet, should be compelled by that same 
 magnet to point westward. It would believe itself false because 
 it was true. He would never see this woman again. But such a 
 vow implies the privilege of a Once More. 
 
 No sooner had he reached the " Feathers " than he was accosted 
 by Mr. Crow, who of course knew Mr. Hargrave of Windgates well. 
 
 " I be main glad to see you, Mr. Hargrave," said he : " for there's 
 some of us be in mortal trouble, to be sure. " 
 
 " What is it, Crow ? " 
 
 " Well, sir : it be this ways 'tis about that there place that used 
 to be Squire Fane's " 
 
 "What has happened there ! " asked Oswald, vaguely alarmed. 
 
 " Ah what, sir ! What'd be likely to happen when a gentle- 
 man, as might be your own self, goes in there last night to holnot 
 with the never mind who, and never comes out no more f "
 
 A REAL QUEEN, 2 ?g 
 
 "I should say it's likely to happen that lie's there still. But 
 what the devil do you mean, Crow ? You look as if you'd just 
 seen a ghost in a dark lane " 
 
 " Don't name him, sir, if you please. There's them as think 
 'twas He flew off with Miss Rosamond, as may be you remember 
 her that was niece to Squire Fane : and till last night there 
 wasn't so much as a child would put foot into the room where 
 'twas done. . . . But last night a artist gentleman dropped in at 
 the ' Feathers,' and we got talking about the new ladies, and the 
 house, sir and naught would do for him but to go and sleep in 
 that there room. And he went, sir : for he was a dare-dev a 
 dare-never-mind-who. And dead nor alive, he's never been seen 
 no more. 'Twas just like what happened to Miss Rosamond, sir 
 just the same." 
 
 " But how do you know he never came out ? " asked Oswald : 
 not in the best humour at having been alarmed without cause. 
 
 " Because he hasn't, Mr. Hargrave. Nothing's been seen of him 
 from that minute till now." 
 
 " Then what in the world makes you think he ever went in ? " 
 
 " Because naught's been seen of him from that minute till now. 
 There's none but four of us know of it, sir me, and Giles Fletcher, 
 and the new groom at the rectory, and the shepherd at Johnson's. 
 I haven't even told my old woman, because I gave him the key to 
 let him in : and she'd go telling the ladies, and setting all the 
 parish afire. 'Tis awsome to think of, Mr. Hargrave. We can't 
 eat, nor shut an eye, not; we four : and the beer's got to taste like 
 Brimstone, sir : it do indeed. " 
 
 Oswald knew that country side too well to give himself the airs 
 o' a rationalist or sceptic. " Are any of you four at the ' Feathers' 
 now ? " asked he. 
 
 " To be sure there's Johnson's shepherd he dursn't go out of 
 company now." 
 
 Oswald went into the parlour, followed by Mr. Crow : and though 
 its atmosphere was always dull enough to a man not C.ossmarsh 
 born, this evening it was something more than dull. For the news 
 had not yet spread abroad, and those who knew it felt like members 
 of a conspiracy : burning, yet afraid, to be the first to tell the world. 
 There were the sceptical shepherd : and old Fletcher : and a stout 
 person in black absorbed in a newspaper in a corner : and there 
 was beer, and there were pipes : but no man was saying a word. 
 
 "So I hear the Devil's abroad in Crossmarsh," said Oswald. 
 
 19
 
 290 A SEAL QUEES. 
 
 "What does it all mean, Master Fletcher? We must get to the 
 rights of this we mustn't have the ladies frightened out of their 
 lives." 
 
 Then, at last, the door was opened to speech : and Mr. Crow's 
 story was even improved upon, if such a thing could be. Des- 
 pite all that could be said to dissuade him Oswald learned the 
 stranger had determined to spend the night in the chamber of 
 evil fame, and had never been seen again 
 
 " And 'tis my belief," said Giles, " that whatever came to Miss 
 Bosamond Fane, that's come to he." 
 
 No man on earth was less superstitious than Oswald. But none 
 else remembered Rosamond's story in her supposed delirium, and 
 on the faith of which he had connected her disappearance with the 
 escape of Lawrence Derwent from Lowmoor. There could be no 
 imaginable connection in the shape of reason between that story 
 and this : but then the whole thing, from first to last, was outside 
 reason. 
 
 One of the company gave a long solemn whistle. " And 'twas 
 this very afternoon I was saying to the young lady 'twas a good 
 job too and Bill here can swear 'twas my very words ! " 
 
 " A good job ! " exclaimed Mr. Crow, aghast 
 
 " Surely fastening up that there room. Twill take a toughish 
 ghost to get through our work when 'tis finished ; mine and Bill's.'' 
 
 But there were so many anecdotes to prove the contempt of 
 ghosts for carpenters' work, nay, even for coffin makers', that 
 Oswald, for the present, was compelled to listen. Nor had he 
 listened long, when the person in the corner laid down his news- 
 paper, crept round the room, and at last whispered in Oswald's ear. 
 
 " Don't seem to know me, Mr. Hargrave, if you please. If you 
 want to know something, we'll step outside." 
 
 " Moldw " 
 
 "Hush, sir. You come along of me. . . . When I told old 
 Squire Fane I'd find Lawrence Derwent by instinc', you as good as 
 said I lied. Well, sir, it's took instinc' a matter o' ten years to do 
 it ; but she's done it, and she'd have done it if it had took her, for 
 ever and ever Amen. I've heard them fools talking, and I know 
 'em of old Lawrence Derwent has been and got nailed up in that 
 there old lumber room as sure as you're alive." 
 
 Oswald seized Moldwarp by the shoulder, as they stood before 
 the tavern door. Moldwarp felt Oswald's arm tremble with the 
 etrength of the grasp.
 
 A REAL QUEEN. , 9 
 
 "Good God! he exclaimed. Speak out at last and if you 
 lie now " 
 
 "I won't, Mister. I've come down after that convict in the 
 
 interest of justice " 
 
 "Of the reward?" 
 
 "'Tis all the same. And hell be in that house: and I know 
 where" 
 
 " Man all the world knows I would give half my life for one 
 minute with Lawrence Derwent before the law can touch him. 
 
 " I know, Mister. But half your life'll be no manner of use to 
 me. 'Twas something more substantial you offered ten year ago, 
 you and old Fane." 
 
 " Then if you're not lying you may earn it twice over. But is 
 it there he is concealed?" 
 
 Even in his sudden excitement, and with the hope of finding 
 this man, startled from its ashes into flame, his heart sank for 
 was it not in Senhora Miranda's house that Lawrence Derwent 
 was being concealed ? 
 
 As for Moldwarp, his course at last lay clear before him. If 
 he could save Horace Derwent from the scandal of delivering his 
 own father's son up to justice by transferring that work to Oswald 
 Hargrave, he would have a double claim upon the gratitude of 
 both, besides earning a double reward. He even had visions of 
 renewing his hold upon the great Rackstraw himself in short of 
 having the whole of this story under his hand. 
 
 " There, Mister, sure enough. And now we're two of us after 
 him, he's safe enough for Lowmoor this time. Do you know a 
 party calling himself Harding, from the American silver mines ? " 
 
 " I have seen him well ? " 
 
 " That's the man. That's Lawrence Derwent, Mister." 
 
 "Ah! And her friend ! .... Moldwarp: I'm going to trust 
 you. I am going to unearth this man now. And if you are trick- 
 ing me Heaven knows why you should, but if you are 
 
 "You needn't finish, Mister. I'm not game to give half the 
 rest o' my life, whatever you be." 
 
 " Will you come with me, now ? " 
 
 " Surely, Mister. I came down with a friend, but he's gone out, 
 and won't miss me for an hour or two." 
 
 "A detective? Well, I want no constable to forestall me. I 
 must see him, man to man. Let me see if one goes by the cliff 
 path, one can get up by the wall to the tiles of the dairy, and so 
 
 19 A
 
 292 A REAL QUEEX. 
 
 to the window of the loft : I've done it dozens of times, when I 
 was a boy. It will be easy enough to ee if what you say is true 
 
 if he is there Yes," he told himself, " to set a ghost 
 
 story going : then to hide the man in the haunted room and to 
 fasten up the door till a chance of escape comes : she who can in- 
 vent such a plan as that will be quite clever enough to feed him 
 too, in spite of the nails. But She! And Sophy in Her 
 power ! " 
 
 That it is quite feasible by means of the cliff path, the wall, and 
 the tiles, and a trifle of further climbing, to obtain a complete 
 view of Rosamond's castle had been proved not only by Oswald, 
 but by Lawrence Derwent himself, who could only have made his 
 original entry into the cottage, by this or similar means. What 
 would be the next step must be dependent upon circumstances: 
 in the first place it was needful to see if the convict was really 
 thus hidden, according not only to Moldwarp's story but to all the 
 unhappy likelihoods dependent upon the Senhora's acquaintance 
 with Madam Miranda. And even if nothing more could be done 
 to-night, the convict's escape from the house before morning could 
 be prevented by standing guard. 
 
 So it was moonlight now Oswald, in company with the rascal 
 whom of all the world he least expected to prove his ally, doubt- 
 ing, hoping, anxious, and yet believing, and all the while with the 
 heaviest weight at his heart he had ever known, proceeded to 
 that path overhanging the sea where the last vestige of Rosa- 
 mond had been seen. There were no lights at the back of the 
 house, and no passing constable was likely to mistake Mr. liar- 
 grave of Crossmarsh for a housebreaker, despite his suspicious 
 company : nor for that matter was the ragged Silver Moldwarp 
 likely to be recognised in the stout and gold-spectacled London 
 tradesman. 
 
 " Stay here," said Oswald, " while I climb the garden wall." 
 
 The full light of the moon was on the back windows, so that he 
 had no need of a lantern. He had one knee on the low wall, when, 
 looking up, he was arrested by a sight that made his heart beat 
 with exultation, and yet sink again at the realisation of his worst 
 suspicions of the Senhora. 
 
 At the window of the loft itself easy of access from without, 
 though, from ita being near the ceiling, not from within appeared 
 a bulky shadow, which presently emerged into the moonlight in 
 human form. Well was it for their sanity that neither Mr. Crow
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 2y3 
 
 nor Mr. Fletcher nor Dr. Johnson's shepherd was there. Oswald 
 dropped back into the path, so that the coming encounter might 
 take place on level ground. " Stand back," he whispered to Mold- 
 warp. " We are two to one, so he can't escape but I must meet 
 him alone." 
 
 The human figure let himself down from the sill to the full 
 length of his arms and then dropped heavily, and with something 
 of a clatter upon the tiles. Moldwarp, black traitor as he was, 
 must have felt something of the honest excitement of the hunter, 
 and his heart, or whatever he had in place of it, laughed at the 
 prospect of the triumph of Instinct over Fortune after all Oswald 
 his debtor: Rackstraw his subject: Horace Derwent his slave: all 
 the revenues of Longwood his pasture. . . . The man crept slowly 
 along the tiles : the man from Nevada was not quite so lithe and 
 active as ten years ago. But he knew his road. At last he stood 
 upon the wall and looked round to see that all was clear. 
 
 He dropped on the path : and then Oswald spranar forward. It 
 was the man from Nevada indeed. 
 
 " Lawrence Derwent " he began 
 
 But well-nigh before the words had left his lips, the desperate, 
 hunted man, who had lost all that he had come to find, and was now 
 at bay put his hand to his breast: a quick shot broke into the 
 roar of the rocks and waves : and the last words that Oswald's 
 ears heard were : 
 
 " Traitor bloodhound ! " 
 
 As the body of Silver Moldwarp went flying over the cliffs to 
 the rocks below 
 
 Rosamond turned in her sleep : and thought she had heard the 
 signal gun of Lowmoor in a dreas
 
 294 * SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXin. 
 
 C IT AX A. Why dost thon weep, fair lady ? 
 
 ISABEL. For my lord, 
 
 My dear, dead love, whose death made dark the sun I 
 See, I would give my wealth, my soul, my all, 
 My more than all, to see him live, and say, 
 'Twos but a dream I died in : here am I. 
 
 GITANA. No more than this to make a dead man rise ? 
 The Witch of Endor did as much : and thrice 
 The secrets of her craft are known to me. 
 I'll use my spell for pity, not for gain. 
 Come forth, Count Arcos t 
 
 ISABEL. Hold : in mercy hold 1 
 
 Tears shed for love must not be shed for naught 
 And should he come 
 
 GIT ANA. Enough, I understand. 
 
 Tears wept for one, another's lips must dry. 
 
 AFTER so dark a night, in so many senses, it was natural 
 that the sun, who has no sort of sympathy for what goes 
 on beneath him, should rise with unusual brilliancy. 
 Rosamond sprang from her bed early, with a delicious sense that 
 the weight of her unsought crown had at last fallen from her, that 
 she was released from the spell under which she had been living, 
 and was free to resume the life she had always longed for even to 
 begin again from her fifteenth birthday, so far as that might be. 
 It was not that she had become false to the good resolutions she had 
 been making for her people's sake it was that Apahu had 
 ceased to be real to her, in the fresh birth of an English 
 morning. 
 
 Her first action was to kneel down beside the bed of Sophy, 
 who still slept who, indeed, had Jnever been robbed of a night's 
 rest either by joy or sorrow and to sing a song of thanks 
 without words. She knew how she would have felt had Sophy, 
 been lost out of life and then, after many years, had risen from 
 the grave : and what she herself would have felt, she believed 
 that Sophy dreamed. And then, throwing open the window, she 
 let her plans of life make themselves all over again. 
 
 She would never marry. She remembered what Oswald Har- 
 grave had said to her when she was a child, and even in Apahu 
 she had come to comprehend his meaning. Indeed, where in the 
 world are such meanings not to be learned? And if he had been 
 ever so much loyal as to have known or cared whether her sister 
 was alive or dead, she might easily have been tempted to be as 
 false to her childish vow of singleness, as to her vow of self
 
 A PEAL QUEEN. 295 
 
 devotion to her people made in the belief that her people had be- 
 come her all. But even Oswald, the only man she had ever met, 
 whom insight bade her trust wholly, had, by showing how quickly 
 forgetful the staunchest of all men was, shown her what all other 
 men must be. It was not that he had not recognised Rosamond 
 herself in the Queen of Apahu ; that was nothing; even Sophy 
 had not guessed at what lay beneath her disguise. But not even 
 to know, not to speak of caring, what had become of Sophy that 
 was treason ; that left no name for the nature of a Rackstraw, or a 
 Horace Derwent, or for any other example of civilised man. Had 
 not her heart been overflowing with joy at finding Sophy herself 
 alive, and well, and with her once again, and all her own, and 
 maybe if the sun had shone less brightly, she would have let her 
 heart turn bitter. As things were, she contented herself with a 
 royal and lofty scorn for Oswald's sex, and was far too much as- 
 sured of her contempt for it to make vows against a temptation 
 by which she could never, by the remotest possibility, be assailed. 
 In her narrow world there had never been any man, who could be 
 called such, save Oswald ; and there was no place in it for a worse, 
 the best having been expelled. 
 
 Why, he had not recognised Sophy any more than he had re- 
 cognised Rosamond ; Sophy had found concealment as easy a game 
 to play as she. Of course, he, as their neighbour at Windgates, 
 would now have to know who the ladies at Crossmarsh were. 
 And yet it suddenly struck her why should he, why should 
 any living creature know ? It would be hideous to have to play 
 the part of a nine days' wonder, as the heroine of some newspaper 
 romance about the conversion of a missing heiress into a barbarian 
 queen, who had returned home after years of adventure such as 
 none of imagination inferior to a professed journalist's would dare 
 to conceive. She shrank, as any woman would, from feeling 
 herself a heroine of such sort even for a single hour. And 
 then Sophy would have to be dragged into the exposure, with 
 her own concealment to account for a concealment which 
 no human being would ever be able to comprehend. All this 
 would be saved if they remained as they were Sophy and 
 Rosamond to one another, but to all the parish Madame Miranda 
 and Miss Gray. Crossmarsh would become used to them in time, 
 and the wider world would soon forget even the tradition that 
 there had ever been a foreign woman calling herself Queen of a 
 country that would never be heard of again.
 
 296 A REAL QUEEN 
 
 For occupation, home and rest looked ample to satisfy one who 
 had known neither for many years : and who does not fancy that 
 what she feels now she will feel for ever nay, that all the world 
 will feel for ever what she feels now ? So, single and at rest, she 
 and Sophy would go on living at Crossmarsh, which was at any 
 rate full and large enough to give two pair of hands as much 
 work as they could do. It was not idleness that Rosamond 
 wanted, but to work out her life in peace, and she had at any 
 rate studied the art of government enough to have learned that 
 there is work enough to be done asywhere and everywhere. 
 
 She knew when Sophy woke even sooner than Sophy herself : 
 and the first sight upon which the opening eyes fell was Rosa- 
 mond. 
 
 " Wake up, Sophy ?" cried she; "and wish me many happy 
 returns of the day ! At last I am fifteen ! " 
 
 " Fifteen ! " exclaimed Sophy, starting up in bed, and feeling 
 herself compelled to face a new day in company with one whom 
 her inmost heart could not receive as the sister who had died 
 
 while she was a child ; " why you were fifteen when " 
 
 " Never, Sophy. Nothing has ever happened since I since I 
 was ill. That was yesterday. I am well, and fifteen to-day." 
 
 Meanwhile Horace Derwent, utterly baffled by his reception of 
 yesterday, had spent his evening in a long ramble along the coast, 
 in order to think matters out by the help of hard exercise: for he 
 was little used to sit thinking, and had to balance the action of his 
 brain with that of his limbs. And the more he thought the less 
 could he believe in Senhora Miranda's good faith, even though he 
 could not invent any shadow of reason for her continued conceal- 
 ment of his unfortunate brother from one who so clearly meant 
 him well. But there is no need to narrate in detail the inevitable 
 mazes in which the mind of one was compelled to wander who had 
 ne better light than Silver Moldwarp's for a guide. And then he 
 was angry with himself for having been startled out of needful per- 
 sistence by recognising Sophy in the Senhora's companion ; and still 
 more angry in that one who had so plainly shown her contempt 
 or aversion for him, or both, should still have had the power so 
 completely to overthrow his presence of mind. 
 
 Only one thing remained certain and clear that Senhora 
 Miranda must be compelled to give up her knowledge that his 
 half-brother must forthwith be restored to his inheritance, that
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 297 
 
 Sophy must be blotted out of his life, and that he must henceforth 
 devote himself to the work of holding up his mother and his 
 sisters above the ruin that justice would cause by the strength of 
 his own arm. Of one thing he did not as yet dare to think ; for 
 the bravest and honestest of men was bound to be a very coward 
 of cowards before the prospect of having to announce to his mother 
 the catastrophe that was about to befall. No man believes in 
 the power of a woman to sacrifice those who are dear to her for 
 the sake of justice to an enemy ; and doubtless in Mrs. Derwent's 
 case, her son's disbelief in the capacities of her sex were not un- 
 justified. Even he had had to thrust himself out of temptation, 
 though a man. At length his thoughts succeeded in tiring limbs 
 that were untirable while left to themselves, and brought him to 
 the condition in which To-morrow appears in a hopeful light, 
 simply because it is not To-day. So he returned to his bed at the 
 " Feathers " at an hour that would be considered late in Cross- 
 marsh, and in a humour of too little desire for the company of 
 Moldwarp to make enquiry whether the latie- was '.n ihe parlour 
 or in bed, or where. 
 
 When next morning came, with its fresher if not better counsel, 
 it seemed of but small moment to him that Silver Moldwarp was 
 still missing : and to others, who knew not that this elderly gen- 
 tleman in black clothes had been in the neighbourhood of the 
 haunted chamber, of no moment at all. Now that Horace was in 
 direct treaty with the lady who, a mystery herself, appeared to 
 hold the key of all lesser mysteries, his original guide could be dis- 
 pensed with, and would doubtless take good care to turn up in 
 time for his reward. Had he cared to make enquiries, he might 
 perhaps have heard news ; as things were, he saw nobody but the 
 country maid who brought him his dish of eggs and bacon, and 
 then set off at an hour, fixed rather by impatience than by etiquette, 
 for a second and final interview with Senhora Miranda. 
 
 "She knows where Lawrence Derwent is: and both of them 
 trust me, or they would not have trusted me with the will. I 
 forgot I was dealing with a woman, who doesn't know how to be 
 straightforward, and must needs make a secret of everything, so 
 that she may be important, and let it out piecemeal," thought the 
 young man, whom everything was combining to confirm in his 
 misogyny. " If she had anything to hide, she would have let it 
 out long ago one may be sure." 
 
 With such venerable traditions he sought to transform himself
 
 298 A REAL QUER 
 
 into a philosopher, and labeled and disposed or one woman so that 
 he might not be troubled in his social ruin by vain thoughts of 
 another rather than call Sophy a coquette, he laid other offences 
 upon the shoulders of any of her sisters in Eve who might happen 
 to be nearest to hand. Nay, he believed that he had steeled him- 
 self, by dint of common sense, strength of resolution, and half 
 eagerness for the hard battle of life in which he must presently 
 engage, that he honestly felt capable of meeting Sophy herself 
 face to face without again losing one iota of the most dignified 
 self-possession. In returning to the house that held her, he was 
 no mere moth stupidly fluttering about a fatal flame, but one in- 
 spired by the conviction that one may learn from experience how 
 to avoid being burned again. A burnt child, as they say, fears 
 the fire : a philosopher is not, or ought not to be, a slave to 
 childish fears. 
 
 Indeed, he was so confident of himself that he even looked for- 
 ward to meeting her for the last time, solely, of course, in order 
 that she might plainly see how mistaken she was if she fancied 
 that any conduct of hers had so much as singed a single feather of 
 his wings. He would confine himself solely to his all-important 
 business with Senhora Miranda, and so, it may be, have the 
 triumph of wounding a coquette's vanity for love delights to give 
 pain, and to share all things it feels; and somehow the very bright- 
 ness of the sunshine, as it were, hardened him : for it shone so 
 apart from all things that went on upon earth, and upbraided his 
 life with all that other sunshine that might so well have been but 
 for a villain and a flirt and but for the flirt the most of all. 
 
 For exactly one thing he was not prepared : and that was in the 
 midst of his thoughts of her to come face to face with her of whom 
 his thoughts were. He had not expected to see Sophy till he had 
 entered the house : and he met her, all on a sudden, in the middle 
 of the drive. 
 
 Had he been prepared for this most simple of chances, he would 
 have raised his hat and passed on, so as not to press his company 
 upon a girl who had so plainly shown that she wished to have 
 nothing to do with one whom she had no doubt learned from her 
 new friends to be a ruined pretender to a fortune that was none of 
 his own. Indeed, he had already felt for he had thought of all 
 things save this meeting with her alone that had she ever 
 promised to be his wife, he would have had to have given her her 
 release, and that he could never have kept her even if he had had
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 299 
 
 the evil fortune to win her. But, unprepared, he wavered : and it 
 was for Sophy to vindicate her own dignity by not showing a sign 
 of having so much as noticed his neglect of her in her time of 
 trouble. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Derwent," she said, with an effort after 
 easy indifference that made her seem almost cordial. She even 
 forced herself to hold out her hand, even at the risk of his finding 
 it too warm or else too cold. " If you wish to see Madam, you 
 will find her at home." 
 
 " Thanks, Miss Fane. Yes : I have business with Madam." He 
 did not notice anything about her hand, as he held it lightly for a 
 moment : and indeed if it had actually trembled, he would have 
 thought his own to blame. " It it is a long time since we met, 
 Miss Fane." 
 
 Of all things this was the last he meant to say : and so he said 
 it according to the law of such things. They were standing hard 
 by that very greenhouse where, in old times, Oswald Hargrave 
 had asked Rosamond to wait for him, and had tried, as it seemed 
 in vain, to give her first lesson in love to one who in some ten years 
 had never received another. Thus, seeing that this greenhouse 
 (as may be remembered) had been Sophy's main watchtower, 
 they were in the worst possible position for confidential talk ; for 
 if stone walls have ears, glass ones have ears also, and eyes as well. 
 But nothing was more remote from their intention to talk in con- 
 fidence : and Sophy's recollections of her childhood were as faint 
 and dim as her sister's were strong even to passion. 
 
 " Is it ? " asked Sophy. 
 
 " Well, perhaps not," said Horace. " A good many months isn't 
 much for people not to meet in London, I know especially as it 
 will have to be a good many years now." 
 
 " Yes," she answered. " I dare say it will." 
 
 Yes I am not likely to trouble my friends any further, after 
 to-day." 
 
 " I am sure of that," said Sophy, trying to be sarcastic and cool. 
 " I should say there is nobody in the world who is less likely to be 
 troublesome to his friends." 
 
 " To trouble my acquaintances then. But I should have thought 
 you the last to give me so good a character, Miss Fane. I have 
 it on my conscience that I ought to ask your forgiveness for having 
 been something more than troublesome." 
 
 He knew he was not speaking as he had planned : but her coo\
 
 300 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 ness stung hiin : and for that matter it now seemed bettor to part 
 from her in a quarrel than simply to lift his hat and pass on. 
 
 Perhaps he felt, though he certainly could not see, that she al.<r> 
 was growing a little angry : for she had meant to make some sort 
 of point against him, as she would hardly have done had she been 
 honestly careless, or as clear in her conscience as he felt himself to 
 be in his own. " I really," said she, a little sharply, " cannot 
 guess what you mean." 
 
 " Then all I can say is," he broke out plainly, " you must be for- 
 giveness itself as for me, I declare that I can't look back upon 
 the way I tried to force myself upon you in the midst of all your 
 trouble without shame. Only I thought I might be able to help 
 you and I could not know then, as I know now, that I had neither 
 the right nor the means to help the weakest of all creatures in the 
 world. I never meant to say a single word but it is said now. 
 I think, if you knew of my position from your friend, the Senhora 
 you might have let me know it at once, and saved me a great deal 
 of pain. One does not generally go out of one's way to wound 
 those for whom one cares nothing at least a man would not, 
 whatever a woman might do. There it has said itself, and it 
 certainly will not be said again. I ought to be thinking of my 
 poor brother, and of him alone. Perhaps you can tell me where I 
 may find him or must you wait in everything upon the will and 
 pleasure of your Queen ? " 
 
 " But it must be said everything must be said ! " exclaimed 
 Sopny, with a sudden change of tone, and an eagerness that she 
 might have caught from Rosamond. "What do you mean by 
 forcing yourself upon me ? You must tell me you must indeed." 
 
 "Why 'must'? What ia the use of another word, when I 
 never meant to say a single one. However, if you must know 
 well then, a man who finds himself denied and unanswered may 
 go on persevering up to a certain point : so long as he cannot 
 guess why. But when he finds that, unknown to himself though 
 not unknown to others, he had lost a fortune, he can only put th 
 two things together and beg pardon for his troublesome folly, as 
 I do now." 
 
 " And what, then, are his friends to think, when he seizes every 
 chance of flattering their weaknesses while he thinks them rich, 
 and quietly throws them over as soon as he finds them n i ied and 
 poor ; yes, who is so afraid of their wanting his help, I suppose, 
 that he flies even from their deathbeds, as if it were the plague ?
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 301 
 
 . . . There, Mr. Derwent ; we have both said our say 
 now" 
 
 " Good God ! /fly from you and because I was afraid of your 
 being poor ? Have you forgotten how I tried to see you day after 
 day, and was always denied how I wrote to you (and it shames 
 me now to think of how and what I wrote) and was never an- 
 swered : how " 
 
 " You did write ? You did call ? " 
 
 " How can you ask rne when you know it as well as I ? " 
 "But I do not know it I never knew it it must have been 
 kept from me ; though Heaven knows how, or why, or by whom. 
 Oh, what have I thought what have I done ? " 
 
 " You never denied yourself to me ? You thought me some 
 miserable fortune hunter, who found himself disappointed, and 
 was not even civil enough to let himself slide away by -decent 
 degrees ? Sophy, you thought this of me ! " 
 
 Surely she was sharp enough to have retorted, " And what 
 better did you think of me?" But she had no heart left for 
 retorts ; that part of her was wholly engaged in the new birth 
 if an old dream of hope from its grave under the warmth of looks 
 and tones that it welcomed almost too much to understand. So 
 the mly answered, 
 
 " Is it possible for friends to forgive friends ? " 
 And while her heart was thus engaged, all her wits were at work 
 upon what that letter had said, and whither it had gone. Little 
 indeed had she guessed, when she went out that morning, what 
 its sunshine was to bring ! After all, the sun is not always cold- 
 blooded, and can laugh with his subjects now and then. 
 
 " They can try," said Horace, magnanimous with love, and 
 forgetting that if mistrust was treason, he was himself no less to 
 blame. " Sophy my darling you know what I would have said 
 if this strange cloud had not come between us, ages ago. I was 
 going to tell you all I felt that very night when you were to have 
 come to our house, and never came. Sophy whatever you 
 would have said then, or after, say it now ! " 
 
 Then Sophy also learned what it means to wake up suddenly 
 and to feel as though all past sorrows are a dream. There was 
 no need to stand out for the formalities of wooing ; for she f>lt 
 herself alone in the world, despite those new found ties which 
 meant so little to one who had lived without them until she had 
 forgotten them, and indeed the most gracious and generous honesty
 
 302 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 was only the due of one who had waited under so dark a 
 
 cloud so long And so the word she would have said 
 
 before she disbelieved was whispered and sealed, despite the 
 blundering of Oswald, the plotting of Rackstraw : in short, des- 
 pite all the world of men and women they knew. 
 
 Indeed it had needed but a look and a word to clear the air 
 between them, and it was a little wonderful that the process had 
 taken at any rate so many words. Had they not been true lovers, 
 after their manner, they might doubtless still have found many a 
 matter left that needed removing before the air could be con- 
 sidered wholly clear. How, for example, could Sophy's presence 
 at home and in London be without her knowledge so often and so 
 systematically denied ? How could he have written a letter that 
 had failed to reach her hands ? But though reason be helpless all 
 at once to exorcise such doubts, reason, happily, was wholly 
 absent, as she should always be when two lovers have found one 
 another again, and stand hand-locked in a garden of sunshine. 
 Let ruin come now, and welcome 
 
 But no ; less welcome now than ever. Ruin had been only 
 welcome when it meant escape from self not now, Horace, 
 though it was he who loved the better, as one needs must out of 
 every two, was the first to recover consciousness that the cloud 
 had been no dream, and hung over them still. 
 
 " My darling," he said, " don't forget that you are giving your- 
 self to a poor man ; who can call nothing but you his own " 
 
 " Did I ever think of you as a rich one ? " asked she. 
 
 They were as close together as could be; for they were out of 
 sight of both house and road, and there was nobody to watch from 
 the greenhouse now. 
 
 " But you know that everything I have seemed to have, I have 
 been robbing from another man or rather has been robbed for 
 me by others : and must all be given back again. And I have 
 others to work for not only you. For I cannot suppose that my 
 brother, since he has been so treated, will show much mercy to me 
 and mine : and, for myself, I would ask for none. There is only 
 one thing for me dearest I must go abroad. The colonies were 
 made for men like me, so that scoundrel Rackstraw has told me 
 and proved to me over and over again. I must work my way up 
 can you wait for me, Sophy P With you to work for, waiting 
 can't be long." 
 
 More than half his speech had been wasted. That his brother
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 303 
 
 had been ill-used, and that Rackstraw could be called a scoundrel, 
 were things too dead against all her beliefs to be understood all at 
 once, though since he said them, they must needs be true she 
 could not believe and trust him enough to make up for having 
 mistrusted him so long. But what was not wasted was as clear 
 as day. 
 
 " No I will not wait," said she. " I am beginning to under- 
 stand things not much, but enough for me. You must not have 
 all the work, and all the trouble, while I have none. Oh, Horace, 
 you must not ask me to stay waiting for you here waiting, and 
 wondering, and perhaps not hearing from you, like like I did 
 before " 
 
 " What ! " he cried, looking down into her eyes with joyful 
 wonder ; " You will come with me ? " 
 
 "Why not? I could help you I should not keep you 
 down " 
 
 " Darling ! But to the other end of the world " 
 
 " What is to keep me here ? Yes, and farther still." 
 
 So spake she who but a few hours ago had been full of longing 
 to place herself indeed at the other end of the world, but in other 
 company. Heart was speaking to heart now, so that their words 
 were not loud. But their whisper was loud enough at least to 
 reach the ears of Rosamond, as she stood and listened behind 
 the glass and under the vine. 
 
 It was not a case in which one calamity waits to decide whether 
 listening is right or wrong. At first the words she heard were 
 such as were open for all the world to hear. The line when they 
 ceased to be such was far from being clearly drawn ; and, when 
 that line was passed, she could not lose the rest without stopping 
 her ears or letting Sophy and Horace know that they were being 
 overheard. Indeed she was not conscious of being a listener, but 
 of a sudden blow. 
 
 She was dead then : after all. 
 
 Why had she ever come back from her grave ? The folly of 
 ghosts who come back to trouble the living was at last being borne 
 sharply into her mind. Only yesterday Sophy had regained her 
 lost and buried sister ; only to-day Sophy was eager to leave her, 
 " for the other end of the world, and further still." Rosamond 
 had come back, with her heart on fire, only to find all things void 
 and barren, and herself forgotten, not wanted, and in the way. 
 
 And so it was for a common love-pique, and out of no instinctiv
 
 3?4 ^ HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 affection for the sister who had become a friend, that Sophy h d 
 been so anxious to escape to Apahu. And so this was the end of 
 the poor Queen's fantastic plans of throwing her crown away, and 
 of living with Sophy, in such manner as wise maidens will who 
 have discovered in time the vanity of love, marriage, foreign 
 friendships, and of all things but nature, duty, and home. 
 
 She had been waiting all her joy upon a heart that never knew 
 her, and turned from her without a thought as soon as some young 
 man came by. I know that love is the only passion which poetry 
 and prose too, permits to set hearts breaking; and that for a *i.-i.-r 
 to break her heart over a sister is out of all rule. Yet I doubt 
 if many a man has gone nearer to breaking his heart over a mis- 
 tress than Rosamond went to breaking hers over Sophy, just then. 
 Think how it would be if you, having been dead, were suddenly to 
 come back, full of passion ate life, to find yourself conventionally 
 mourned indeed, >ut in the way ! If you were wise you would 
 straightway crawl back to your grave. And who among us could 
 cou'.it upon welcome to the midst of all the new growths and the 
 uew interests that had sprung up since he was dead, and that he 
 would only come back to disturb ? 
 
 That is a thought solemn enough to comfort the dead (if they 
 could feel) in their graves. But it brought anything but comfort 
 to Rosamond, as she watched her sister and her sister's lover move 
 slowly toward the house, and with none but themselves in their 
 minds. Her uncle was dead well, that was a disappointment 
 rather than sorrow, and he had always been one of those men to 
 whose loss a younger generation soon grows reconciled. The 
 friend of their household had forgotten them ; but to accept this 
 she had been aided by pride. She had found her home lost and 
 broken, and herself forgotten ; and this had been hard at first to 
 bear, but it could be borne. But Sophy was not only Sophy, but 
 had come to unite in herself all that was left of friends, family, 
 and home, all in one. And while Sophy was thus all in all to 
 her, she was no more to Sophy than if she had never been born. 
 
 It was a tragedy ; and none the less for its being wanting in all 
 the elements whereof tragedies are made. She was young, 
 healthy, rich, a crowned Queen, who had lost no lover, and was 
 free to do with her life well-nigh what she pleased ; neither had 
 she sinned against any, nor any against her. Why should she wish 
 to stand between two true lovers ? She did not wish it ; she 
 wished nothing. She could only feel dead in the midst of others'
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 305 
 
 lives, and infinitely, hopelessly alone. If only a dog could have 
 let her see that he remembered her, she could have cried. It 
 would have been more bearable had she felt less full of life and 
 strength, or compelled, like her sister, to fight the world. And if 
 other real kings and queens ever feel in this like this one, then it 
 is the beggars who have the best of the world. 
 
 She had not the heart to follow the lovers towards the house 
 which had once again ceased to be home or indeed, for anything. 
 So she crossed the lawn, and passed through the side door in the 
 garden wall to the path along the cliff's edge whence she was sup- 
 posed to have thrown herself; it had been an old haunt of hers 
 when she was alive. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 E'en till the gate shall close, 
 
 Thus shall it be 
 Waking, to seek and lose, 
 
 Sleeping, to see. 
 
 rnilE last eight and the last sound which made Oswald Har- 
 grave conscious of life, as he fell forward upon that same 
 cliff path into which Rosamond had turned for solitude (as 
 f loneliness can be made more lonely) was the sight of Silver Mold- 
 warp whirling through the air out of this world, and the evil echo 
 of his fall into another. The next experiences of life were such as 
 are not to be told, for they were painted by fever. So wildly im- 
 possible were they that at last he could have sworn, had he the 
 strength, that he was lying on a bed of spikes in the midst of a 
 flock of wolves, while Rosamond herself, looking and speaking as 
 he had last seen and heard her ages ago, was by his bedside guard- 
 ing him. Whatever he might now and then doubt as to the truth 
 of the rest, she remained always real- He could hear her very 
 voice ; nay, though less often and less clearly, he could feel her 
 very eyes. Nor did she ever change into any other creature, as 
 did the wolves. So far from this, he once or twice found strength 
 to doubt whether he had not really found her at last, and feebly 
 tried to decide whether he, living, had found her dead, or whether, 
 being dead, he had found her alive. 
 
 At last, however, there came the time when other powers than 
 his own had to decide whether he should actually live or die { 
 and they decided for his living. A long, deep darkness seemed 
 
 20
 
 306 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 to roll away from him, and left him with a body miserably weak, 
 but with a mind strangely calm and clear. When this happened, 
 he found himself stretched out in bed, in a room at once famih'ar 
 and strange, and with a general consciousness of having been 
 terribly ill. He tried to rise, but had not strength enough to bring 
 himself to his elbow. The effort only brought back the memory 
 of how it was he had been brought to this pass, and.the knowledge 
 of where he must be lying ; and, alas ! the knowledge also of how 
 he had brought himself face to face with Lawrence Derwent at 
 last only to let the ruffian sh'p through his hands. The memory 
 of what he had last seen and heard of Moldwarp made him 
 shudder; but at that of his own blundering failure he groaned aloud. 
 
 The slight rustle of a dress seemed to answer him. Then clear 
 though his brain had grown, a desperate hope, born of past fever, 
 came to him. 
 
 " Is it Rosamond ? " he asked in the ghost of a voice, so much a 
 ghost that he scarcely knew whether he spoke or no. 
 
 " Do you know me ? " came an eager and anxious answer, close 
 to his ear. 
 
 The desperate hope vanished, "You are Sophy Fane," he 
 sighed, " unless I am dreaming still." He was so weak that he 
 could hardly keep from weeping over his vanished vision, as if he 
 were a child who had dreamed of having grasped the moon, and 
 wakes with clenched but empty hands. 
 
 " Thank God ! " exclaimed Sophy. " The doctor was right the 
 danger is gone ! But how did it happen ? How came you to be 
 found lying on the cliff But I mustn't ask questions now " 
 
 And " 
 
 " Hush ! Nor must you." 
 
 Indeed, what between sleep and weakness, and the first passive 
 indifference of one who had just returned from a journey to death's 
 door, Oswald took four-and-twenty hours to learn that it was over 
 four weeks since he had been discovered lying stretched upon his 
 face, all unconscious, bleeding to death, and so near the cliff's edge 
 that it was wonderful he had not rolled over and been swept 
 away by the tide. Who had found him there ? But at this 
 question Sophy only shook her head, and answered that it was 
 nobody in particular indeed, that she had forgotten, and would 
 have to enquire. Who had shot him ? asked she in turn. But 
 not having yet settled in his own mind how, when, how far, or 
 to whom he should report this portion of bis search for Lawrence
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 307 
 
 Derwent, be answered, somewhat in her fashion, by turning round, 
 and affecting a sudden sleep that very soon became a reality. 
 Clearly the murderer of Silver Moldwarp, and his own half mur- 
 derer, was not arrested, or Sophy's question would have been put 
 in a different form. 
 
 By the time another long bout of sleep and food was over, he 
 had seen both his doctors, one of Crossmarsh, and the other from 
 Laxham, as well as Sophy once more, and was in better possession 
 of matters, so far as they were known, and as' he could be told 
 them. He was truly at the house that was now Senhora 
 Miranda's, whither he had at once been carried, and where he had 
 been nursed back into life again. It had been a formidable 
 wound, a bullet having entered the chest,and having spared life as 
 if by a miracle ; as things were, there was still fear of permanent 
 lung mischief, and of his being never wholly the same man again. 
 No mention was made of Moldwarp, whom there was nobody to 
 miss ; and no reason for missing ; and Oswald preferring to keep 
 his own counsel, at any rate till he should have seen Horace Der- 
 went, readily fell in with the general impression that his assailant 
 must have been a burglar whose work had been disturbed. "What 
 was more likely than burglary upon a house just occupied by 
 two unprotected ladies from London, where thousands of people 
 knew that one of them was a very queen of ruby mines ? Nobody 
 had been taken; indeed the police were altogether without a clue. 
 
 There was little more to be spoken of, so far as concerned 
 Oswald. His only interest in the disposition of the Derwent 
 property depended upon its enabling him to meet the rightful 
 heir, and this seemed now to have become more impossible than 
 ever. The assassin had no doubt fled the country by this time 
 and Oswald, dogged, as he had proved himself, shrank from the 
 prospect of beginning to search the habitable world all over again 
 from the beginning. However, his strength increased as the days 
 went on, though slowly, and, as he gathered, much more slowly 
 than his doctors expected. Had he not been healthy in himself, 
 he must have died : but in truth, he was in no great haste to live, 
 as having nothing left to live for unless he might discover some- 
 thing new. Loyalty, at least, had proved but a poor career. 
 
 Thus fortune had at last given him plenty of time for reflection 
 on the use he had made of the ten best years of his manhood, and 
 for finding out, if he were able, that his loyalty had stagnated 
 into something sadly hollow and empty bitterly like dogged 
 
 20 A
 
 3 o8 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 revenge, and the vanity which will be false to the trust that life 
 is rather than confess to defeat or folly. Suppose it had been 
 Rosamond herself instead of Sophy who sat by him through his 
 fever would he have known her on waking ? Would he not 
 sooner have seen his enemy, so that he might find a better chance 
 on a fairer field ? " No," thought he, wearily, " I love Rosamond 
 no more." And he knew not whether he were the more ashamed 
 for his unfaith, or for his life thrown away upon a barren craze. 
 Rosamond had been right even from a lover ten years is too 
 long to stay away. 
 
 He knew he was in Senhora Miranda's house, and yet the 
 mistress had never yet paid him a visit nay, though she doubt- 
 less made all courteous enquiries after the recovery of her guest, 
 no such message was ever brought to him. Even without such 
 seeming neglect, she would have been much in hie thoughts ; by 
 reason of it, she was in them all the more. But, for that matter, 
 he had been struck down even while his thoughts had become 
 filled with her, and the bullet of his enemy had thus served to 
 emphasise the influence over him, of a woman who was more of a 
 mystery than even her sex had made her. Between the dead 
 child and the beautiful living woman, all the more fascinating for 
 the possible danger to which her spells might lead, the battle was 
 wholly unfair. No thought of love for one of whom he knew 
 nothing but that she was strange, and beautiful, and likely enough 
 to be unfit for any true man's love, entered his mind. But then 
 love, alone among passions, has ten thousand names. It is harder 
 to say when love begins than when it ends ; and even that is 
 hard enough to say. 
 
 Sophy, however, came and sat with him two or three times a 
 day : the Crossmarsh surgeon made a daily visit ; the Rectory was 
 attentive : and neighbourly visits from Windgates and Laxham 
 were not rare, not to speak of calls of enquiry from Mr. Crow, and 
 other fathers and mothers of the two villages. So, as he advanced 
 in convalescence, he did not want for company, and this made it all 
 the stranger, at least to him, that there was no gossip worth men- 
 tioning about Senhora Miranda. Instead of being a wonder of the 
 country side, she seemed ignored. Of course the reason was plain 
 enough that she held a place in his mind which forbade speech of 
 her. He was too proud, or too shamefaced, to seem curious about 
 one of whom he could scarce reconcile his honour to be thinking 
 at all ; and more though he dared not own it, he was afraid to
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 309 
 
 hear. None knew better than he how a foreign woman, who was 
 either heathen, papist, or worse, and far more beautiful than she 
 had any business to be, would fare in village talk ; and it was 
 only too likely that such talk might in her case be only too true. 
 At last it seemed that his visitors' very silence came from fear of 
 giving offence to a neighbour who might be the lady's friend 
 as well as guest ; and so it came to pass that his silence created 
 theirs. 
 
 Besides there was everything else to talk about not forgetting, 
 when Mr. Crow happened to call during Miss Gray's absence, the 
 fatal mysteries of the haunted room. Despite the conspiracy of 
 silence, the great village story had spread and grown beyond the 
 recognition, though not beyond the belief, of its first inventors 
 who had almost daily to lay on fresh colours in order not to lose 
 the prestige of original authority. Even had Oswald cared to set 
 things straight, it would have been out of the question now 
 Oossmarsh would have gone to the stake as one man rather 
 than give up the faith that it was the devil's own playground. 
 
 At last it came out that a Windgates man had seen, with his 
 own eyes, a dark shape with horns like an ox fly thrice, on that 
 fatal night, round Windgates steeple with a struggling body in its 
 claws. 
 
 This was too much for patriotism. " Twould take a Windgates 
 man," said Mr. Crow, with scorn, " to think an owl and a mouse 
 for a man and him. For 'twas round Crossmarsh steeple ; and 
 'twas four times not three. And haras like an ox's ! Why, they 
 was hams like a bull's ! " 
 
 " And what are your own plans ? " he at last asked Sophy. 
 " Are you still bent upon that voyage " 
 
 " What voyage ? " asked she, with an air of wonderful innocence 
 though she knew what he meant, perfectly well. 
 
 " You mustn't expect me to remember the name of a country of 
 which nobody ever heard. But I can't forget what you told me, 
 before " 
 
 " You mean Apahu ? Oh, that idea is given up long ago. Of 
 course it must be, now." 
 
 " Then I am glad of it with all my soul. You have taken a 
 weight off my mind! But why of course? I thought your 
 friend's will was law." 
 
 " Ah, but it was never her will, Oswald," said Sophy, 
 mine. But has nobody told you P Haven't you heard ? "
 
 310 A SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 " Heard what ? " he asked anxiously : for he was not likely to 
 be in ignorance of any news that would be good to hear. 
 
 " You have always been so like a brother to me, Oswald," said 
 she, busying herself in rearranging the table. " I almost feel as 
 if I ought to have asked you to approve. I am engaged." 
 
 " Engaged ! what since you have been down here ? Why, 
 who on earth have you seen ? Not not to Rackstraw ? " 
 
 " Rackstraw that scoundrel P " she exclaimed, hotly ; for her 
 views as to her friend and patron had undergone an exceedingly 
 violent change, and, in describing him, she could only use her 
 lover's word. " Why, I took a hatred to him the very first moment 
 I ever set eyes on him as you must remember: and first im- 
 pressions are never wrong. Dr. Rackstraw ! No ! " 
 
 " I thought you told me he was the best and kindest of all your 
 friends " 
 
 " I couldn't have said it ; for it wouldn't have been true." For 
 where is the woman who can even remotedly suspect herself of 
 ever having been in the wrong ? " He has been Horace's worst 
 enemy : so how could he ever have been my friend ? " 
 
 "Horace's?" 
 
 " Horace Derwent's. I am engaged to him.'' 
 
 " Well, that is news," said Oswald. " And I do approve : for 
 he must be a good fellow and really in love to take you without a 
 penny, and but wait : what am I thinking of ? 
 
 " What indeed ? Why, he was as poor as I was until " 
 
 But Oswald was but half -listening : for he was recalling his 
 own former fears lest this very thing might be, and how he had 
 done his best to delay a crisis that promised to end in the engage- 
 ment to the brother of the man whom he still held answerable for 
 her sister's death for that Rosamond must in truth be dead, had 
 at last been borne in upon his mind. Then other matters had 
 made him forget the danger : and what could he do now? It was 
 true that Horace Derweut could not be held answerable for his 
 brother's crimes ; but such had become his own relations to the 
 name of Derwent that he could only feel as a Corsican who hears 
 that his own sister is about to wed into the family of their here- 
 ditary foes. 
 
 Sophy herself, ignorant as she was of any possible reason for its 
 cause, could not fail to read the trouble in his face ; and then she, 
 for her part, remembered how hard this man had always seemed 
 towards her and hers as hard as he had been kind, and kind only
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 311 
 
 so long as it was in his own.way. He had sought to oppose her 
 in everything, since her uncle died ; and some secret certainty 
 that he would oppose her in this also had much to do with her 
 timid postponement of her great news. 
 
 " And there is so much to tell you," said she, " and I should 
 have told it long ago t if if the doctors had not forbidden your 
 
 being told anything real " 
 
 " 1 have certainly been allowed to hear a great deal of unreal, 
 Sophy," he said. " And as old Crow's stories haven't done me 
 much good, perhaps yours will. I can't lie here for ever, you 
 know ; and before I go out into the world, I should like to know 
 how it stands." 
 
 " Of course when I became engaged to Horace, there could be 
 no more thought of my going to Apahu. Indeed I never really 
 wanted to go, only there was nothing else to do. Don't you like 
 Horace, Oswald ? You looked so strangely when I mentioned 
 him. Is there anybody else in the whole world who would have 
 given up everything, even to his last farthing, when he might 
 have kept them just by holding his tongue ? You remember that 
 story Dr. Rackstraw used to tell of how Horace came to be his 
 father's heir while his elder brother was alive. That story was 
 false, Oswald. The elder brother was the real heir ; and Horace 
 found it out, and he is a hero, Oswald! He is seeking his 
 brother to give back everything to him seeking him high and 
 low." 
 
 "What he is seeking Lawrence Derwent too? And with a 
 great fortune for a bait ? Well, Sophy I do know enough of 
 that story to see that you have engaged yourself to an honest man; 
 
 though " 
 
 "There's no 'though' at all, Oswald. Honest! of course he's 
 honest. I said he is a hero. And I'll have no meaner word." 
 " And how are you to live?" 
 
 " When he asked me to be his wife, he thought I was as poor as 
 he. It is a strange story I have to tell you, Oswald, so strange 
 that I have not dared speak of it till you were strong ; and be- 
 cause I am rich, Oswald ; and thank God for it, since he is poor. 
 You are in my house, Crossmarsh is mine again." 
 "Why how in the name 
 
 " Madame Miranda " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "She approved of everything ; she thought as much of Horace
 
 3 i2 A EAEL QUEEN. 
 
 as I do ; she knows Lawrence Derwent ; and has put Horace in t lie 
 way of finding him ; and she is so rich that it was nothing to her 
 to give me Crossmarsh, and " 
 
 " And an income besides ? Is she a princess of an Arabian lalo 
 that she buys estates as if they were yards of ribbon, only to give 
 them away ? And she does know Lawrence Derwent ? And you 
 take such gifts as though she were your own sister, instead of a 
 stranger to us all ? " 
 
 Then he set his teeth, while his heart seemed to turn to one 
 vast ache; for she did know this Lawrence Derwent, and it 
 was from her house that he was escaping at midnight, and 
 armed. 
 
 " Is she here in this house now ? " he said, in a voice so 
 strained and hard that Sophy started, thinking him in actual pain 
 as he was, in very deed. 
 
 " No, Oswald. I ought to have told you nothing you are not 
 strong enough for real talk, after all. Are you in very much pain ? 
 What can I do ? Can you sleep, if I go ? " 
 
 " I am in no pain. I am strong enough to hear everything 
 but not strong enough to sleep upon half words. I can't guess 
 what you can have to tell, but there is something I know from the 
 very sound of your words. Where is this woman, then, if she ia 
 not here ? " 
 
 " She would not stay here, Oswald. She had made a life for 
 herself, out there. You see, she found everything so changed 
 that she only got restless, and homesick for her new country. And 
 indeed you would not know her, any more than I. ... So she 
 waited till you were out of danger .... and had settled her 
 affairs .... and she is gone back to Apahu. That is all, Oswald 
 You may go to sleep now." 
 
 " Sophy," said Oswald, very quietly, " you are telling me, more 
 plainly than words can tell, that I was not mad when I saw Rosa- 
 mond by my bedside." 
 
 " Oswald ! I never told you for I had promised not to tell ! She 
 had her reasons oh, what have I done now ! " 
 
 " Nothing, Sophy. And since it is a secret, leave it alone. Let 
 us talk of other things." 
 
 He took the news with such strange, nay, incredible quiet that 
 his nurse and hostess forgot her own lapse of speech in alarm for 
 his mind. 
 
 Never again did he mention her name. And yet his doctor,
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 3 ! 3 
 
 hitherto surprised at the slowness of his recovery, was thenceforth 
 amazed and bewildered at the rapidity with which his strength 
 came back again. Yesterday he seemed destined to be a hopeless 
 invalid ; to-morrow found him rebelliously well. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 FORTUNTO. Not even such dross is mine as mocking sprites 
 Twist into crowns of straw for phantom kings. 
 
 WHAT Sophy had told, as practical people can, in twenty 
 words, was the true and faithful story of what had 
 happened while Oswald lay ill so far at least as prac- 
 tical people know truth when they see it : which is neither clearly 
 nor far. And the reason why all who tell stories should be prac- 
 tical minded, and confine themselves to bare events without trying to 
 explain them or account for them-, is perfectly clear. It is not 
 because the latter method is difficult, because it is not difficult at 
 all. A flight to the sun is not difficult. It is impossible. 
 
 And even so Rosamond Fane had found it, not difficult, but 
 impossible, to make the world move backwards, and to resume Ufa 
 at the point where she had laid it down. From the moment of 
 bitterness when she found that she existed in the heart of Sophy 
 only as a passing friend, to be forgotten in a moment at the first 
 word of a lover as one to be discarded without a thought so soon 
 as she ceased to be a convenience, she shrank within herself, and 
 did her best to make Sophy feel that her sister's ghost did not 
 mean to embarrass or encumber her. It was easy enough, by means 
 of easy speech and suppression of every sort of emotion that could 
 lead to a scene, to re-establish the authority of a mistress, at least 
 in form. The sisters continued good friends, though they neither 
 shared a thought, nor had a single feeling in common. There was 
 even a hollowness in their friendship, seeing that Sophy, who had 
 got on very well without a sister for ten years, was now in no 
 want of one whatever, while Rosamond was in want of a sister 
 who had never been so much as born. 
 
 But all this was of the past now. Lover and friend had been 
 put far from her : but there still remained the island which had 
 given her all that her life had to give, and where lay all of home 
 that was left her in the world. Why had she dared forget her 
 own home, that contained nothing harsh, nothing evil, for a single 
 hour? Why had she been such an ungrateful fool as to fancy
 
 314 ^ SEAL QUEEN. 
 
 that her empty chair was still kept sacred in the home she had 
 left behind ? 
 
 So-^-" 1 will go back to my own people," thought she. " And 
 I will never leave them again, for the sake of a dream." 
 
 Her plans were easily formed, and rapidly put into execution. 
 The lawyer at Laxham must have shared in the bewilderment 
 into which his new client from Crossmarsh had thrown his 
 brethren in Dondon : but he knew how to keep a secret, and the 
 re-conveyance of the estate to Sophy presented no difficulties what- 
 ever. Alas, that the parting of the sisters should have presented 
 fewer still. Sophy had her lover : and her lover, fortunate as he 
 was, could not regret the loss of a sister-in-law whose life had been 
 and still was an outrage upon all social laws. Sophy was irre- 
 proachable : but who would wish to be talked about as the young 
 man who married the sister of that woman who began life with 
 an intelligible elopement, lived abroad for years, heaven knew 
 how, and came back calling herself Queen of Cannibals for so the 
 story would be safe to run ? Indeed he thought her dangerous, 
 and with impulses not to be trusted from hour to hour in short, 
 altogether away, and with his wife safe from an influence under 
 which she had very nearly been lost to him. It was almost with 
 a sense of relief that Rosamond turned her back at last upon 
 Crossmarsh, without bidding any spot a special farewell her last 
 kiss to Sophy (who wept a little, while Rosamond's eyes remained 
 dry) was a good-bye to all. Her own last tears were shed alone. 
 And when she was fairly on her way to the Goblin Islands, and 
 England had become but a faint grey cloud, her heart began to 
 flutter its wings, and to fly before her towards Apahu. "With 
 different feelings indeed, brimful of passionate hope, had she sailed 
 towards that faint grey cloud. Every one of them had been 
 shrivelled and chilled. She set her face to the wholesome wind, so 
 that the dead leaves might be blown away. 
 
 It was Rosamond's third voyage the first made in despair, the 
 second in hope, the third in the spirit of one to whom both hope and 
 despair alike have come to be but empty names. This voyage 
 save for the commonest incidents, was as uneventful as to suit her 
 humour, and as the most wearied of adventure could desire. There 
 is therefore no need to speak for the third time of a route so fami- 
 liar to all who have visited the Goblin Islands and of so little 
 interest to the many who have never made that long and tedious 
 voyage. Port Rackstraw is still but a young colony, and with but
 
 A SEAL QUEEN. 3 ! 5 
 
 little prospect of ever becoming a great one, and has always had 
 a way of disappointing those who, like Horace Derwent, imagined 
 that everything needful for success abroad is to have been ruined 
 at home. But so .long as Hermon Rackstraw represented the 
 Goblins in Europe, they were never likely to want for sanguine 
 spirits who were willing to invest in uncleared lands for a song, 
 only to find their bargain dear at a single stanza. Moreover 
 there was more or less constant exportation of British goods 
 which, being unsaleable in any ordinary market, sold at Port 
 Rackstraw for double what the best of their kind went for else- 
 where. So under these conditions the presence on board of so 
 exceptional a passenger as Senhora Miranda was an event for her 
 fellow-passengers, from whom she held herself, so far as might be, 
 in the seclusion of royalty incognita. And when at last she 
 reached Port Rackstraw, she made no official visits, but dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Yes the truth must out. It is not for nothing that one lives 
 among ; barbarians from childhood to womanhood, gentle and 
 virtuous as they may be. Rosamond herself knew not how she 
 herself had grown out of sympathy with the old world, or how 
 much even she herself might be answerable for the forgetfulness 
 of her and the estrangement she found. In London she knew 
 how to hold to perfection her part as a lady, so that people won- 
 dered at the resemblance of a heathen savage to any princess in the 
 almanac of Gotha. But in Crossmarsh, had she stayed there, 
 second nature must have proved too strong for her at last : and 
 now came a glorious plunge into a very bath of liberty that, while 
 the first excitement of it lasted, made her cease to regret the lost 
 affection that had been put to her lips only to be dashed away. 
 She was Queen Ngahoung of Apahu once more Queen of an 
 almost amphibious race who were the finest sailors and swimmers 
 in the unknown world. Nor had a season's confinement of her 
 limbs and her brains robbed her of those results of health and 
 delight in action which had gone far to establish her on the 
 throne. 
 
 Less regret than ever would have been felt for her second and 
 voluntary death had her sister and her future brother-in-law, and 
 the ladies of Longwood, seen the lioness of a season, as she sat alone 
 in the stern of a long canoe, while a sail of strange fashion carried 
 her before the wind. She knew where lay the country whence she 
 had set sail in such solemn state, and the wind that would bear her
 
 316 A REAL 
 
 there, and the season, when, in that most regular of climates, she 
 might count upon its blowing. A canoe to fairly suit her was 
 easily procured and provisioned : and she had set sail at nightfall 
 from the creek where her native crew had bidden her farewell 
 many months ago. 
 
 When the sun rose next morning, in one sudden moment, out of 
 the sea, without any of the changing lights and flushes that give 
 our northern skies the look of a maiden tenderly wooed and slowly 
 won, she who had once been Rosamond Fane (how long ago ? ) 
 would have been seen were there a magic mirror nnd any eyea 
 that cared to glance therein speeding before th.3 steadiest and 
 most fragrant of good winds out of sight of land. Nay : out ol 
 sight of this mortal world : for was not the ocean held to be the 
 border between life and death in Apahu ? As she sailed thus, I 
 would make her picture, if I had the power: only that her dress 
 had more of Europe in it than became her new freedom. Of course 
 she was in peril : for even as there are no seas that know how 
 to be so calm and radiant, there are none that know such fury : 
 and their fury is as sudden as their sunrise. But something had 
 to be dared now for the safe-keeping of her people's secret, which 
 had already been only too heedlessly whispered abroad. And 
 even the peril was welcome : it was all the more relief from the 
 mere death in life she had left behind. Meanwhile, all was well 
 and there was reasonable hope that no change would come. If it 
 came well, there must be an end some day of all this : and not a 
 soul on earth would mourn her : she had outlived all that delu- 
 sion now. 
 
 Meanwhile it must have been another than Queen Ngahoung 
 who would dream of danger when floating as smoothly as a swan 
 between the blue sky and the blue sea, and through a golden air 
 that went to the senses like wine. The fragrance was not so keen 
 as if the breeze were from Apahu, the first known perfume of 
 which was in her nostrils still, but the breath of the wind on her 
 cheek, at once sharp and soft, was k the same that had for the first 
 time welcomed her. It was an ideal voyage, such as makes those 
 who have sailed in the far south believe that every poet must 
 have once sailed them also, if only in a dream. And then to 
 think of what awaited her beyond ! Loneliness, perhaps, for 
 her heart was still English born ; and hunger, it might be, for the 
 rest of an English churchyard when the time came for her to pass 
 the borderland of life and death, in truth and in deed. But mean-
 
 A PEAL QUEEN. yj 
 
 while it would be loneliness that a healthy mind, with a sense of 
 duty, might well manage to bear. No more sights of men and 
 women suffering and poverty stricken beyond the wealth of all 
 the rich combined to aid them : no more struggling for gold, to 
 the loss of what no gold can buy ; no more crime; no more sin. 
 There at last she would be free from the enemy who had forced 
 himself into her life for no cause, and from whose presence she 
 could not escape, except by flight into an unknown world. And 
 there, too, she would be as free from friends who could forget as 
 from enemies who could remember. 
 
 The wind favoured her, no less than on her last voyage : indeed 
 it carried her far more quickly than she hoped, when she trusted 
 herself to it alone, and she had nothing to do but to let it steer 
 her straight for the shore, which she could not lose unless the 
 weather changed. Already she pictured to herself the joy and 
 the wonder that would greet her return : how old and young, 
 noble and peasant, man, woman, and child, would troop down to 
 the shore where she had been first given to them by the waves, 
 to hear of the wonders of the world of evil that she would scarce 
 dare tell them for fear of their scorn. 
 
 At last, in almost a day less than her last crossing of the same 
 sea, a faint familiar outline told her that the wind had been loyal 
 to her trust, and had steered her well and true. And, as the far- 
 off vision began to melt into lights and shadows, even so th 
 world she had left melted from her mind. Then, by exquisite 
 degrees, the lights and shadows grew into colour : and, in a word, 
 the Queen was coming home, after the most royal passage thnt 
 ever queen has made. 
 
 Some three hours later, she struck sail, and let the rising tido 
 carry her canoe high on a beach of sand, and then waded aslvnv. 
 She was glad that her landing was unperoeived : she would be 
 gladder still if she could remain invisible till she had seen tho 
 old priest who had blessed her when she had departed, and prayed 
 for her return. Long as her many months of absence had been, 
 she feared to find no change for she had not left love enough 
 here to fear lest her treasure had been stolen. But before setting 
 forth, she knelt down and kissed the shore. This was her grave : 
 and here her troubles were to end, 
 
 Boom ! 
 
 She sprang to her feet, almost with a cry, Neve'-, to her dying
 
 ^i8 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 day, would she forget the sound of the signal gun of Lowmoor. 
 And it sounded here here, in Apahu ! 
 
 What could it mean? There was no mistaking it: and a 
 people before it invents artillery must invent war. And it could 
 not to be fancy : for she had scarce recovered from her start when 
 the sound came again. The Queen looked round in dismay, 
 doubting whether to believe her ears or her eyes. But her eves did 
 not deceive her : she knew by heart every mark in the cliffs, and, 
 every curve in the bay. She was most surely in Apahu. And sc 
 how could she believe her ears ? 
 
 She hurried across the beach, and entered the narrow strip 
 of bush that lay between her own palace and the sea : and, as 
 she entered, again came that incomprehensible sound. As quickly 
 as she could walk through the tangle of stems and brushwood, 
 she reached the confines of the glade that formed the royal 
 domain. And there she came face t to face with a long, low, log 
 hut, over the door of which was painted up, in the English 
 tongue, 
 
 Whisky sold here : by Jacob Green. 
 
 As for her palace it hadvanished,like a castle in the air. And 
 instead of the glade, which had been another Eden, it had been 
 grubbed and cleared, and the timber of its margin used to build 
 some two dozen other huts, in regular rows, only differing from 
 the first in being lower and less long. In one direction, a com- 
 plete clearing had been made, so as to give a view of the mouth 
 of the river that rose among the hills whence the rubies came. 
 
 The settlement showed no signs of life, however : and Rosamond 
 drew back among the trees, bewildered and alarmed. She knew 
 all the tracks, as well as she knew the path from Crossmarsh to 
 Pix-Knoll : and so she was able to give the transformed glade a 
 wide berth, and to make straight for the college of priests which 
 stood on a plateau overlooking the entrance of the river into the sea. 
 It was not far, and the way was easy : and vague anxiety gave 
 her wings. 
 
 At last she reached the plateau, where a still smoking wreck 
 showed where the college of the venerable fathers of a blameless 
 people had been standing some months ago. But this was not the 
 first sight on which the Queen's eyes fell, as she stood on the edge 
 of the open space, not venturing to draw nearer to the ruin. Nor 
 was it the glorious view of the river, sand, cliff and sea that 
 formed a vast, sunlit circle as far as the eye could travel. For she
 
 A REAL QUEEN. jig 
 
 was no longer alone. Some scores of rough and bearded men, 
 such as she had never seen either in Europe or in Apahu, and all 
 variously armed with rifles, revolvers, or knives, were mingled 
 with perhaps a dozen women well-nigh as rough-looking, and with 
 two or three persons better dressed if not of better appearance, 
 were crowded round a pole planted in the very midst of the plateau. 
 Pointing seaward was a ship's gun, attended by a smaller group 
 no doubt the cause of the sound of evil omen she had already 
 heard. Not a native of the island was to be seen. Then emerged 
 from the greater crowd, and climbed upon a stone of the smoulder- 
 ing ruin, a long, lean, grave figure in a black frock coat, and a 
 broad-brimmed straw hat, and waved his hand. " Silence ! " he 
 cried, in a voice that she knew as well as she knew that figure, 
 BO vulgar in its every detail, and yet so expressive of persona 
 power. 
 
 A flag ran up to the head of the pole : the ship-gun flashed and 
 roared. 
 
 " In the name of Progress, Humanity, and Civilisation," pro- 
 claimed Hermon Eackstraw, " Port Eackstraw annexes to the 
 British Empire for ever the Island of New Gotham, formerly 
 Apahu ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 What help's for hurts, if valour cannot mend 'em f 
 What good in rirtues, if we can't defend 'em ? 
 
 WHATEVEE warrant he may or may not have had for his 
 proceeding, a deed was done at which no true Briton can 
 fairly cavil, seeing that in this straightforward and simple 
 manner, Dr. Hermon Eackstraw had opened up to British enter- 
 prise an island that bore rubies. Well had it been that Eosamond 
 had fallen under the guidance of so competent a man. While the 
 Queen had been vexing her mind whether to bring her lost Eden 
 into the line of progress and the circle of civilisation, or whether 
 to leave to Nature what Nature herself had left alone, Dr. Eack- 
 straw, with manly energy, had solved the problem at a bold stroke, 
 
 once for all. 
 
 But the prospect that Apahu was already provided with whisky 
 and gunpowder, and that a New Gotham Advertiser, and a miss 
 station, and a steamer to Port Eackstraw, and a Euby Mines Eail- 
 road Company, and a gaol, would shortly follow-thia prospect,
 
 320 A PEAL QUEEN. 
 
 clear as it was, gave no comfort to Queen Ngahoung. Sick at 
 heart, she turned away. She had fled to Apahu from all these 
 things and this was what she had found ! 
 
 The bitterness of it all was too great even to leave room for in- 
 dignation at Hermon Rackstraw's treachery. So it was for this 
 he had wormed himself into her intimacy, and, while pretending 
 to teach, had learned her all how many days' journey from Port 
 Rackstraw lay Apahu, and by what wind she had sailed, and all 
 else needful for discovery. 
 
 After all, she upbraided her trusting folly, why should Hermon 
 Rackstraw differ from the rest of civilised mankind ? It was no 
 moment for even so much thought as belongs to anger. She drew 
 back yet farther among the trees, and buried her face in her hands. 
 It was not a little thing, that she felt herself no longer a Queen. 
 And yet that feeling was the least of all. 
 
 Not till a minute had passed did she become aware that it had 
 contained one mad moment of impulse when she had been on the 
 point of stepping forward to the flag-post, asserting her sovereignty 
 defying the invaders, and bidding them begone. When she be- 
 came conscious that this impulse had possessed her, she almost 
 repented that she had not yielded to it, and taken the con- 
 sequences, whatever they might be, from those who had robbed 
 her of all she had left to live for. Now that the moment had 
 passed, it left her too weak and too numbed to call it back again. 
 
 The echo of the shouting was still in her ears, when she started 
 afresh : for a hand, and no light one, was laid on her arm, and a 
 strong, deep voice was speaking, but too low to be heard beyond 
 her screen of trees. 
 
 " Don't start," it half whispered : " Don't move. I know every 
 thought in your heart : for half of them are my own. We may 
 speak plainly out here yet awhile, thank Heaven : they've not yet 
 brought Lowmoor here: but they will. You saved me once, 
 Miss Fane : and I paid you ill : but it shall be paid that debt 
 and all. Do you remember an escaped convict who once told you 
 that you were born to be a queen ? Well, I have had to fly again, 
 for defending a guiltless man's liberty : murder, the law would 
 call it, but only the law. That doesn't trouble me. But I had 
 my reasons for making my escape square with a visit to the A gent- 
 General for the Goblin Islands : and for that reason where he is, 
 there am I. Come quite out of hearing, if you please ' 
 
 Was this man, this demon, bound to follow her, and blight her
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 321 
 
 life even here? Was she not safe from him, even in ApahuP 
 Was Apahu itself to be cursed by her, because of him ? 
 
 "This is too much too horrible!" she cried out, heedless of 
 her voice being heard. " Guilty or guiltless, what is it to me ? 
 I never harmed you; I never heard of you: yet you tore me 
 from my home, you made me dead to my dearest, and made them 
 dead to me : you haunt me when I escape to England : you come 
 to gloat over my escape back again ; and the ruin of the one spot 
 of heaven left on earth, that men like you have done. To rid my 
 life of you, must I kill you, or you me ?" 
 
 " Come farther. Did I not tell you, in London, what I want of 
 you ? And, there or here, it is the same. Listen, for your own 
 sake : and for Heaven's sake don't let us be overheard. You know 
 what I am rich enough in the new world : but in the only world 
 I care about hunted and driven to bay by wolves : and Hermon 
 Rackstraw is the chief of them. Yes : that is what I am and 
 you are a dethroned queen : and our enemy is the same there he 
 stands. What are all my silver mines, and all your rubies, to such 
 a cause : my liberty and your throne ? You need me as much as 
 I need you. . . . Your people (I have seen something of them 
 these days) could drive this handful of invaders into the sea. But 
 the fools don't know how to fight : and they have never till to-day 
 heard the sound of a gun. They want a general to-day ; not a 
 queen, I know something of savage warfare, and how it ought to 
 be carried on : and I will wager all my silver to your smallest 
 ruby, that in three days I .will be at the head of such an army as 
 shall not leave one of Rackstraw's pirates and filibusters alive to 
 tell the tale. You shall be queen again : and all the world shall 
 ring with your cause, and then, with a people who can fight, let a 
 hundred Rackstraws meddle with you if they dare. . . . Good 
 God, Miss Fane, we ought to found a kingdom, an empire, you and 
 I. What have we to do with the old ways of an old world ? 
 You will thank me for having led you here and for my reward 
 you know it will not be your crown : but the Queen must have 
 a King.'' 
 
 Claimants to thrones are on record who have thought nothing 
 of plunging, for their own sakes, whole nations into war. Rosa- 
 mond shuddered at Lawrence Derwent's touch (for she guessed 
 now who had struck down Oswald) : but Queen Ngahoung was 
 bound to listen : for she thought, shall my people be robbed and 
 ruined without a blow P Is it not my part to lead them, conquer 
 
 21
 
 322 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 with them, or die with them, as their Queen P And if this man 
 can help them, has not Heaven sent him to undo what I have done ? 
 What she felt towards him was terribly like hate, but if he could 
 save her people from the horrors of civilisation, was any sacrifice 
 too great to make any price to pay ? 
 
 He saw her hesitate : and, though he misread from first to last 
 the motives that influenced her doubts, he read the result, and that 
 was enough for him. 
 
 "Come," said Lawrence Derwent. "I learned something of 
 this work, out west : and we must lose no time." 
 
 " Where are my people ? I have not met with one not one." 
 
 " Are you not with them ? " he asked, in some surprise. 
 
 " This is my first hour here Heaven forgive me for leaving 
 them, if it can but I have been punished, Heaven knows. If you 
 know what to do do it : worst enemy of me and mine though you 
 are." 
 
 "Never mind that now. We shall be friends in time. Hush, 
 go behind that bush ; somebody is coming, and you had best not 
 be seen, especially with me." She obeyed : for the very shudder 
 which his presence inspired in her meant subjection to mastery. 
 " Holloa, Green," said Lawrence, " aren't you at the show ? " 
 
 " Not I," said the man, in a grey flannel shirt, straw hat, and 
 high boots, who approached them from the direction of the glade. 
 Though dressed for rough business, his appearance did not corre- 
 spond with his costume, for he was small, fat, and elderly, with a 
 long, thin, white beard, a vulture's beak for a nose, and a moist, 
 bright eye : he had nervous ways with his fingers, and a choking 
 snuffle in his voice, and his shoulders, though round and bent, did 
 not look used to toil. And he also was the type of a pioneer : for 
 even the march of civilisation must have its camp followers, its 
 sutlers, and its people who buy and sell. " They'll shout thebselves 
 dry; an thed cubs by show," said Jacob Green. " They bust be quick, 
 though : or by cask'll sood be as dry as theb. If you want to see a 
 bit o' fud ; you cub alog o' be." 
 
 " Niggers, eh ?" asked Lawrence, making a sign to the Queen to 
 follow invisibly : and she obeyed. 
 
 Mr. Green led the way to the nearest corner of the clearing, and 
 pointed. The Queen also looked : and turned away again in 
 despair. 
 
 " Good business, eh ? " chuckled Mr. Green. 
 
 It was good business, indeed from the invaders' point of view.
 
 A PEAL QUEEN. 323 
 
 But the eight shall not be described. It was an assembly of 
 Apahuacs, who had become Mr: Green's customers, and all as 
 drunk as if they had been civilised all their lives. 
 
 u And the rest ? " asked Lawrence ; with a gloomy frown. 
 " Off. to the Ruby Bides ! They're cute, those diggers. They've 
 foud out what Bister Rackstraw's after, and they're off for first 
 haul ! " 
 
 Rosamond came forward, unconcealed. Mr. Green stared : but 
 it was not Goblin Islands' fashion to lift one's hat, even to a lady. 
 But for a remnant of Oriental courtesy, he would probably have 
 done more than stare. 
 
 " Have you been long here, sir ? " she asked, abruptly. 
 " Cabe with the first lot, ma'am. Will you drink anything, 
 ma'am ? It's close by." 
 
 " Can you tell me what has become of a very old man, a priest, 
 who lived in the house which was burned down to set up a flag 
 pole ? " 
 
 " Oh, I know the old digger you bead. The others was putting 
 him into a hole when Bister Rackstraw came an' scuttled 'em ! 
 for he was as dead as a dail. I saw his corpus : must have been 
 as old as Adab. But who, ma'am, are you ? You don't want 
 rubies nor diabods, with eyes like theb. Yes : as dead as a dail." 
 
 " Then he never knew " 
 
 " Of the addexation ? How could he, when he was dead as a 
 dail?" 
 
 " Thank God ! " said Rosamond, and turned away. 
 " Who is she, Bister ? " asked Mr. Green. 
 " A friend of Rackstraw's," said Lawrence, following her. They 
 returned into the strip of brush, and walked on silently, side by 
 side. There was no need to tell one another that a nation which 
 has all virtues save the soldiers' may just as well have no virtues 
 at all. 
 
 " And / have done all this ! " she moaned. 
 "You ? No," he answered her, gloomily. "You didn't make 
 the world's ways nor I. If I had but all that's over now. 
 I can't offer you a kingdom. But I will give up even 
 
 vengeance, if " 
 
 " Never," said Rosamond. " I won't pretend to know what 
 you mean. This is too awful a moment for pretence and play. 
 We have been saved from a sin. Let us forgive one another, and 
 meet no more."
 
 324 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 He strode on in silence for awhile. He thought it the dignity 
 of the dethroned Queen that awed him : for he knew not, nor 
 could know, how the woman, through him, had lost her all. Only 
 he did know that not she herself had lost more than he. 
 
 " You must have some plans, for yourself," he said, " even if 
 you leave me none. What are they ? " 
 
 " How should I have plans ? You know I can have none. 
 And if I had are you not the last creature on earth to whom I 
 would tell them ? Perhaps you never meant to injure me. I 
 think you come from Nevada. Go there: and then I shall know 
 where not to go.'' 
 
 " Do you know how you are revenging yourself ? By God, 
 if I could be half as well revenged on Rackstraw, and on Horace 
 Derwent " 
 
 " Revenge on your own brother ? On the only true and honest 
 being I ever met on earth on him who is seeking you because 
 he thinks he has done you wrong ? As if the wrong could 
 ever be on his side, between him and you ! " 
 
 " Miss Fane ! Think what you are saying this is more than 
 life and death to me ! " 
 
 " Then know from me, whose life you have cursed, that the 
 brother you hate is striving to give you back your inheritance and 
 your good name : and that he whom you sought to murder at 
 my door held the proofs, for your brother, even while you struck 
 him down : and that she tells you this, who " 
 
 " What ! Why did you not tell me this before ? " 
 
 " Why should / think of you f when my people : God help 
 
 THE END. 
 
 .... But best of all the gleam, 
 When forth on Faith, at every turn dismayed, 
 
 And high on Hope, that ne'er to harvest grew, 
 And clear on Love, that mocked us as we strayed, 
 Shines full the sun, and all things find we true 
 That seemed but a dream. 
 
 AND so Apahu also had vanished like another dream. .*? 
 Rosamond's dreams had vanished now : and the passing 
 of the last was perhaps the bitterest of all. 
 She sought no interview with Dr. Rackstraw, who indeed, had 
 she done so, would have treated her with but scant courtesy, and
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 325 
 
 have sent a possible firebrand out of the island even more quickly 
 than she departed of her own accord. All was lost there, and she 
 knew it : and she carried away with her no more than a single 
 bouquet of leaves from the precincts of the sacred college to re- 
 mind her of what had been, and could never be again. She em- 
 barked, as an ordinary passenger, on a small steamer that was 
 carrying to Port Kackstraw the news of the successful annexation. 
 Lawrence Derwent travelled in her company : but held aloof from 
 her as if they were strangers. He knew that he had influenced 
 her once : but he no less knew now that his influence was as dead 
 as the High Priest of New Gotham. 
 
 Of his plans, therefore, she knew nothing : and plans for herself 
 she had none. She would not disturb Sophy again: and yet 
 she had no other home. There was no more lonely ghost 
 under heaven than she : and yet she had always meant so well ! 
 And she had so many years yet to live what could she do with 
 them all ? Find out and help the poor, and her brothers and 
 sisters in loneliness, of course : but they must be cold of spirit and 
 feeble of heart indeed, or angels before their time, who at five and 
 
 twenty can have no desires left for themselves. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 They who can trace in this history, as in the life to which 
 it may seem but only seem so lacking in likeness, how event 
 led to event, and how there was no such thing as evitable accident 
 from beginning to end, will see that as surely as Apahu could not 
 remain for ever undiscovered, so surely was Lawrence Derwent 
 bound to meet with an adventure which only a prodigy of acci- 
 dents could postpone. 
 
 The Hotel of Port Backstraw was an establishment by no 
 means in accordance with the aspirations of the place in point of 
 accommodation, though far beyond them in point of charges : but 
 it was the only one in the place, and there all travellers were com- 
 pelled to put up, for want of a better. Oswald Hargrave himself 
 was not wholly a stranger there : for some ancient and broken clue 
 had led him years ago to the Goblin Islands, whither, even before his 
 strength had returned, he followed such traces of Senhora Miranda 
 as he could gather, with Horace Derwent's help, from Sophy, from 
 lists of passenger vessels, and from all other sources that were 
 open to him. And he had succeeded in tracking the Senhora to 
 Port Kackstraw, but there had lost sight of her again. But at 
 last came the news, kept dark till the last moment, of the expedi-
 
 326 A REAL QUEEN. 
 
 tion to Apahu, and of its projected annexation by the Goblins : 
 and thus almost the one corner of the earth he had never searched 
 and in whose very existence he more than half disbelieved, was 
 revealed to him. Was he following Rosamond or the Senhora ? 
 He hardly knew : nor did he much care to distinguish, seeing that 
 they were one and the same. Nor did he ask himself very care- 
 fully what the result of his search was to be. The search had 
 been for so long its own end that in short, he simply followed 
 the steps of a woman : and it would be folly to ask the wherefore 
 of so common a thing. 
 
 He had just been enquiring as to the means of following the 
 New Gotham expedition, and had returned to the hotel, when, in 
 the long saloon of timber answering to the coffee room, and partly 
 to the general dormitory, and now empty save for himself and 
 another guest, he found himself, suddenly and at last, face to face, 
 with the man who had given him the slip at Crossmarsh or 
 rather everywhere in the world. 
 
 There was no time for either to fence or to consider. But it was 
 Lawrence Derwent alone who started and hesitated, and so gave 
 Oswald the first word. Oswald did not start : he knew he must 
 meet this man again in time : he would not have wondered at 
 meeting him in a far less likely place than here. But then 
 Lawrence Derwent was with Rosamond still ! 
 
 " You shall know the face of the man you tried to kill, Lawrence 
 Eerwent," said he, " and who knows you as the actual murderer 
 of another man. "Well you will not Lave the chance a second 
 time. Where is Rosamond Fane ? " 
 
 " You are Mr. Hargrave ? " said Lawrence. " It was you, then 
 that stopped my escape, and who took the most natural consequence 
 in the world ? As for Moldwarp his ghost won't haunt me. J 
 have killed too many snakes without legs to mind one more just 
 because it happens to have two. To you, Mr. Hargrave, I do owe 
 an apology for a mistake : and it is yours, since you consider life 
 BO precious a thing. As for the Queen I at least will still call 
 her so are you her enemy, or her friend ? " 
 
 " She is here ? Is she your wife, Lawrence Derwent ? If she 
 is then I will seek neither her nor you more." 
 
 Lawrence flushed, and then turned pale. " Do you mean to doubt 
 her honour, sir. And by reason of me f By all I believe in and 
 if that isn't much it is my all to swear by if you think she would 
 marry me, or be else than married to any man on earth, I will
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 3 2 7 
 
 think no more of dealing with you than with a Moldwarp, or any 
 other creeping thing. If I can be nothing else, I can be her chain- 
 pion: and I will." 
 
 Oswald flushed hotly, in his turn. I know her story from her 
 sister," said he. " But there is always something untold. If I 
 have wronged her, I Lawrence Derwent, we are enemies, you 
 and I. But I wish to be just : and above all to you. You have 
 been cruelly wronged, as all the world now knows. And it may 
 be that if you had stood in my path to liberty, I should have done 
 by you as you did by me. Think what it costs me to speak like 
 this : and if you care for Rosamond's, Miss Fane's, welfare, tell me 
 where she is now." 
 
 " Wait. ... Is it true what I have heard : that it is my brother 
 who found my father's will and is seeking to make me rich again 
 and himself poor ? " 
 
 " There is but one who could have told you so. It was she who 
 found the will and what else should he do, when it came into 
 his hands ? " 
 
 " Do ? Destroy it, to be sure. I thought my brother a robber. 
 Is Jie a fool ? How can I talk to you about women, and such 
 stuff, till I know what has become of my wrongs ? If only I could 
 see that will " 
 
 "Your brother," said Oswald, with cold contempt, "was so 
 jealous of your rights that he would not even keep your father's 
 will under his own control. I gave him my promise not to let it 
 go out of my own hands : nor have I : for I had learned where 
 Miss Fane had gone : and where she was, we feared But, in short 
 here is the will. You will acknowledge that there has been no 
 delay in placing it in your hands." 
 
 " Why did you not place it in safety ? Voyages are dangerous 
 things." 
 
 " There are those who would have made any hands unsafe but 
 mine. And if I and it were lost, none would have contradicted 
 your brother when he swore to his own ruin and to your gain. 
 Here is the will. It was on me when you tried to kill me : it has 
 never left my hands, night or day." 
 
 Lawrence Derwent took the will, with affected nonchalance, and 
 glanced over it as coolly, though there was an eager light in his 
 eyes. " Now, Mr. Hargrave," said he. " All the world has per- 
 sisted in thinking me a scoundrel until, I think, it has made me so. 
 A man who would rob his own father, and cheat his brother, aud
 
 328 A HEAL QUEEN. 
 
 who has actually killed a Moldwarp, would naturally betray and 
 corrupt an innocent girl. However, as my name is cleared from 
 all but the Moldwarp matter which I would gladly do over again 
 and as the only woman I ever loved will have none of me, and 
 as I am richer than I care to be, and as my brother has given me 
 the last lesson I ever looked to learn, I will give him one in return. 
 When that will came into his hands, he should have done this ' 
 and he tore the paper into fragments and threw them out to the 
 wind. " There's no law against destroying wills in the Goblins. 
 Rackstraw passes all the laws out her." 
 
 The end has been long in coming : but it came. There is much 
 that might still be told if this were the story of Lawrence Der- 
 went, and not of Rosamond Fane. For him, now that he had at 
 last achieved his revenge in order to feel that he had done the 
 only thing that for Rosamond's sake was left him to do, he still had 
 all the world before him, and time enough to bury a hundred 
 passions, even if a thousand had not been buried in one generous 
 deed. He knew how to live strongly 
 
 " And it is not such," said Oswald, on the deck of the Southern 
 Cross, northward and westward bound, " who go to the wall. He 
 will have some shock of conviction, or conversion, or whatever it 
 may be called : and it will be a violent one. He was already 
 planning an expedition of his own to New Gotham, to watch the 
 new treatment of the people, and to help them to make the best 
 of things as they are. . . . Rosamond. . . "Where are we 
 going : you and I ? Are only we to be left alone, all our li ves ? 
 Ten years ago, before your poor uncle, I vowed myself to 
 you : and am I to wait for ever, because I have waited ten 
 years ? " 
 
 " It is not that, Oswald," said she, gently : for she misjudged 
 him no longer : and if love had still to force its way through an 
 over-crowded heart, still it was the one real thing that was left at 
 the end of a journey through a wilderness of dreams. 
 
 " What is it ? Do you regret your crown ? " 
 
 " I hated my crown. I wanted it, because because it seemed 
 the only thing left me. I was a bad queen : I should have seen 
 what end was bound to come '' 
 
 " What is it, then ? " 
 
 " Oswald," she said, turning her face away, " you have earned 
 one right over me that I should tell you what it is, and why. 
 Jf when I came home again, where all forgot me, you had said
 
 A REAL QUEEN. 329 
 
 what you have been saying now : then but when you were in 
 your fever " 
 
 " What happened then ? What could I have done ? * 
 
 u You dreamed only of " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Of Miranda." 
 
 "Great heaven ! and is that all? Are we to do nothing but 
 live all our years in dreams ? You are Miranda : an4 you are 
 Rosamond : and you are that terrible name you bore as Queen of 
 Apahu. And the lover of Rosamond is the lover of you all. 
 Shall I be false to Miranda, and think only of the Rosamond who 
 died ? '' 
 
 " If she had died " 
 
 " Then the Oswald who vowed to make her his wife is dead 
 too. Will this Rosamond take this Oswald and begin life 
 again ? " 
 
 " If " 
 
 " If I never make you jealous of even yourself again P If you 
 are loved as that other Oswald could never have loved the Rosa- 
 mond of old time ? " 
 
 She now knew why, when she found herself forgotten by this 
 one friend, she had begun to despair, and to clutch at dreams and 
 straws, and crowns. She had been jealous of herself but such 
 jealousy as that does not keep heart from heart, or hand from 
 hand. 
 
 " At last ! " he said, drawing her towards him. And so, at last, 
 this empress of vanished shadows became a Real Queen, with a 
 Real crown. 
 
 THE END
 
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 Hash Conclusions. 
 
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 Phra the Phoenician. ' Constable of St. Nicholas. 
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 Phillstia. Babylon. The Great Taboo. 
 
 Strange Storler. 
 
 For Maimie < Sake. 
 
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 Tbe Beckoning Hand. 
 
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 Dnmaretq s Daughter. 
 
 Duchess of Powysland. 
 
 Blood Royal. 
 
 I. Greets Masterpiece. 
 
 The Scallywag 
 
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 THE PICCADILLY (3/6) NOVELS continued. 
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 Woman of li onBrnceletj. Under a Strange Mask. 
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 A Missing WlMMM, 
 Wai She Justified ': 
 
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 The Gates of Wrath. 
 
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 Chaplain of the Fleet. 
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 In Trafalgar > Bay. 
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 The Channeling. 
 The Fourth Generation 
 
 R^artr MoneyMortlboy 
 My Little Girl. 
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 This Son of Vulcan. 
 The Golden Butterfly. 
 The Monks of Thelema 
 
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 Tt> Captains' Room. S.Katherlne s by Tower 
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 Dorothy Forster. I The Ivory Gate. 
 
 Uncle Jack. I Holy Rose j The Rebel Queen. 
 World Went Well Then. I Dreams of Avarice. 
 Children of Gibaon. 
 Herr Paulut. 
 For Faith and Freedom. 
 To Call Her Mine. 
 The Revolt of Man. 
 The Bell of St. Pauls. 
 
 Thf Charm. 
 By AMBROSE BIHRCE -In Midst of Life. 
 
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 By M. McD. BODKIN. 
 
 Dora Myr]. I Shillelagh and Shamrock. 
 
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 Shadow of the Sword. The New Abelard. 
 
 A Child of Nature. Matt. I Rachel Dene 
 
 God and the Man. Master of the Mine. 
 
 Martyrdom of Madeline The Heir of Linne. 
 
 Love Me for Ever Woman and The Man. 
 
 Annan Water. Red and White Heather. 
 
 Foxglove Manor. Lady Kilp.it; iok. 
 
 The Charlatan. Andromeda. 
 
 R. W. CHAMBERS.-The King in Yellow. 
 
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 Shadow of a Crime, j Peemster. | Bon of Hagar. 
 
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 PaulFerroll I Why Paul Fcrroll Killed his Wife. 
 
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 The Red Sultan. i Th Burden of Isabel. 
 
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 Armadale. | AfterDark. The New Magdalen. 
 
 No Name. ] Antonina j The Frozen Deep. 
 
 Basil. I Hide and Seek. I The Two Destinies. 
 
 The Dead Secret. 
 Qneen of Hearts. 
 My Miscellanies 
 The Woman In White. 
 The Law and the Lady 
 The Haunted Hotel. 
 The Moonstone. 
 Man and Wife. 
 Poor Miss Finch. 
 Miss or Mrs. '? 
 
 ' I Say No.' 
 Little Novell. 
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 Jezebel s Daughter. 
 
 The Black Rot 
 Heart and Science. 
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 The Legacy of Cain. 
 A Rogue's Life. 
 
 Blind Love. 
 
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 Blacksmith & Scholar, j You Play me False. 
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 M. J. COLQUHOUN.-Everyln'h Soldier. 
 
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 The Inimitable Mrs. Matsingham. 
 
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 The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains. 
 His Vanished Star. 
 
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 Romances of the Old Saragllo. 
 
 St. Martin's Lane, London. W.C. 
 
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 Diana Barrington. 
 
 Proper Pride. 
 
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 Pretty Miss Neville. 
 
 A Bird of Passage. 
 
 Mr. Jervis. 
 
 Village Tales. 
 
 Some One Else. | Jason. 
 
 Infatuation. 
 
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 The Evangelist ; or. I'mt Salvation. 
 
 H. C. DAVIDSON. -Mr. Sadler s Deifhttri. 
 
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 True Tales of Travel and Adventure 
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 The Real Lady Hilda. 
 
 Married or glngit 
 
 Two Masttri 
 
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 i Interlereace 
 ' A Thlid Person 
 
 Beyond th> Psl. 
 
 Mils Balmalae s Past. 
 
 Terence 
 
 Man from Manchester. 
 Records of Vincent Trill 
 
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 Chronicles of Mi'ha.l 
 Danevltch. ID- 
 Tyler Tatlock. Private 
 
 The Mystery of 
 Jamaica Terrace 
 
 Deacon Brodi 
 
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 Old Corcoran s Money 
 
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 The Finn of Glrdlrstone. 
 
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 A Daughter of To day. ! Vernon s Aunt 
 
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 Archie LoveU. i A P.a.t n- Sia: 
 
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 Carsed by a Fortune 
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 Commodore Junk. 
 The New Mistress. 
 
 Witness to the Deed. 
 The Tiger Lily. 
 The White "' 
 
 A Flattered Dover '. 
 King of tbe Castle 
 Mv.fr of Crot>i. 
 The M>nwitha8h*lo 
 One JIalds Mischief 
 Story of Antony Graes. 
 This Man Wife. 
 In Jeopardy r n; 
 
 A Woman Worth Win 
 
 Virj-ln 
 Black Blood. 
 Double Cunning. 
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 One by One. Roprs of Band. 
 
 A Dog sud his Shadow. Jack Doyle s Daughter. 
 
 A Real Qneen. 
 
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 Beth s Brother s Wife ' The Lawton Girl. 
 By GILBERT GAUL. 
 
 AStrange Mh uscript Found In a Copr-r Cr Mi>e> r 
 
 By PAUL GAULOT.-The K.I Shuts 
 By CHARLES GIBBON. 
 
 Robin Gray. The tiolden Shaft. 
 
 Loving a Dream. The Bri es of T arrow 
 
 Of High Degree Qneen of the Meadow 
 
 The Flower of the Forest 
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 The Lost Heiress. I Tbe Ooldea Ho- k 
 
 Fair Colonist , Fossicker I Tsles from the Teld. 
 
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 The Fate of Herbert Wayne. 
 
 By Rev. S. BARING GOULD. 
 
 Red Spider. 
 
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 Tales of a Dying lace 
 
 CECIL GRIFFITH. Coriothia w 
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 A Flor.'da Enchantment. 
 
 By BRET MAR I I 
 
 A Wlf of the Plains A Prt,t. < Ja< 
 
 A Ward o( the Go dec Clarence HU t 
 
 Gate. Bprln.-s Barker s Lc. 
 
 A Bappho of Orern Dell s Ford cels- 
 Col. Btarbottlr i Client The Crusade rt the ts 
 gnsv I Bally DOWP. Tlir*far'' 
 P..11 HlTiTr of Anc.l . OebrUI Crv 
 Tiles o.'Trai: an IT-'WJ HewCoadfBt
 
 28 CHATTO ft WINDUS, Publishers, in St. Martin's Lane, London, W.C. 
 
 THE PICCADILLY (3/6) NOVELS continued. 
 
 By OWEN HALL. 
 The Track of m Storm. | Jetsam. 
 
 By COSMO HAMILTON. 
 Glamour of Impossible. | Through a Keyhole. 
 
 By THOMAS HARDY. 
 Under the Greenwood Tree. 
 
 By JULIAN HAWTHORNR. 
 
 Garth. | Doit. 
 El'.ice Quentln. 
 Sebastian Strome. 
 fortune i Fool. 
 
 Beatrix Randolph. 
 David Pelndexter's DU- 
 
 appearance. 
 Spectre of Camera. 
 
 . . 
 
 By Sir A. H E LPS. Ivan de Blron. 
 By 1. HENDERSON. Agatha Page. 
 By Q. A. HENTY. 
 
 Dorothy's Doable. | The Queen's Cap. 
 
 Riijnb, the Juggler. 
 
 HEADON HlLL.-Zambra the Detective. 
 By JOHN HILL The Common Ancestor. 
 
 By TIQHE HOPKINS. 
 Twizt Love and Doty. | Nugnts of Carrlconna. 
 The Incomplete Adventurer. | Nell Haffendeu. 
 VICTOR HUC1O Tlie Oiitlv* of Iceland. 
 
 By FERGUS HUME. 
 Lady from Nowhere. I The Millionaire Mystery 
 
 uy mrs. n u 
 Marvel. 
 
 Unsatisfactory Lover. 
 In Durance Vile. 
 A Modrn Circe. 
 Lady Patty. 
 A Mental stmizU. 
 Lady Veraer's Flight. 
 The Red-House Myitery 
 The Three Graces. 
 
 By Airs. ALr 
 The Leaden Casket. 
 
 IVILilvrv/fVL/. 
 
 Professor s Experiment 
 A Point of Conscience. 
 A IJatden all Forlorn. 
 The Coming of Caloe. 
 Nora Crelna. 
 An Anxious Moment. 
 Aprils Lady. 
 Peter s Wife. 
 Lovice. 
 RED HUNT. 
 Self Condemned. 
 
 That Other Person. | Mrs. Juliet. 
 By R. ASHK KINQ.-A Drawn Game. 
 By GEORGE LAMBERT. 
 
 The President of Boravia. 
 
 By EDMOND LEPELLETIER. 
 
 Madame Sans Gene. 
 
 By ADAM LILBURN, A Tragedy In Marb'.e 
 By HARRY FllNDSAY. 
 
 Rhoda Roberts. I The Jacobite. 
 
 By HENRY W. LUCY.-Oideon rieyce. 
 
 By E. LYNN LINTON. 
 Patricia Keraball. | The Atonement of Leant 
 
 Cundas. 
 
 The One Too Many. 
 Dulcte Everton 
 Rebel of the Family. 
 
 An Octave of Friends. 
 
 Maid of Athens. 
 
 The Comet of a Season. 
 
 The Dictator. 
 
 Red Diamonds. 
 
 The Riddle Ring. 
 
 The Three Disgraces. 
 
 Under which Lord? 
 'My Love I' | lone. 
 Pas'ton Carew. 
 Sowing the Wind. 
 With a Silken Thread. 
 The World Well Lost. 
 
 By JUSTIN MCCARTHY. 
 
 A Fair Saxon. Donna Quixote. 
 
 J.inley Rochford. 
 
 Dear Lady Disdain. 
 
 C.iraiola ! Mor.onla. 
 
 Waterdale Neighbours. 
 
 My Enemy s Daughter. 
 
 Miss Misanthrope. ,.,..,.., 
 
 By JUSTIN H. AlcCARTHY. 
 A London Legend. | The Royal Christophci 
 
 By GEORGE A1ACDONALD. 
 Heather and Snow. j Phantasies. 
 W. H. MALl.OCK.- The New Republic. 
 P. &V. MARGUERITTE.-TheDbaster. 
 
 By L. T. A1EADE. 
 A Soldier of Fortune. I On Brink of a Chasm. 
 In an Iron Grip | The Siren. 
 
 TIT. Kua.sey's Patient. | The Way of a Womta 
 The Voice o.'theCharmer I A Son of Ithread. 
 An Adventures*. I The Blue Diamond. 
 
 A Stumble by the Way. 
 By LEONARD MERRICK. 
 This Stage of Fools. | Cynthia. 
 
 By EDMUND MITCHELL 
 The Lone Star Rash, 
 
 Bv BERTRAM AtlTFORD. 
 
 The Gun ilunr.r. I The King s Assegai. 
 
 LnckofOerardRldgeley. I Rensh. Fanning sQuest. 
 The Triumph of Hilary Blachland, 
 By A1rs. MOLESWORTH. 
 Hathercourt Rectory. 
 
 r>\ J. E. MUDDOCK. 
 Maid Marian and Robin Hood, j Golden Idol. 
 Basile the Jester. I Young Loch l;i var. 
 
 By D. CHRISTIE AtURRAY. 
 
 BobMartin s Little Girl 
 Time's Revenues. 
 A Wasted Crime. 
 In Direst Peril. 
 Mount Despair. 
 A Capful o Naili. 
 Tales In Prose A Verse 
 A Race for Millions. 
 This Little World. 
 His Own Ghost. 
 Church of Humanity 
 
 A Life's Atonement. 
 
 Joseph's Coat. 
 
 CoaU of Fire. 
 
 Old Blazer s Hero. 
 
 Val Strange. I Hearts. 
 
 A Model Father. 
 
 By the Gate of the Sea. 
 
 A Bit of Human Nature. 
 
 First Person Singular. 
 
 Cynic Fortune. 
 
 Tho Way of the World. 
 
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 The BisnoDS' Bible. I Paul Jones's Alias. 
 One Traveller Return*. I 
 
 By HUME NISBET.-- Bail Up I 
 
 By W. E. NORRIS. 
 Saint Ann s. I Billy Belle w. 
 
 Miss Wentworth s Idea. 
 
 By G. OHNET. 
 
 A Weird Gift. * I Love s Depths. 
 
 By Mrs. OLIPHANT.-The Sorceress. 
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 Held in Bondage. In a Winter City. 
 
 Btrathmore. I Chandos. Friendship. 
 Under Two Flags. 
 
 Idalia. .Oage. 
 
 C" il Castiemaine i 
 Tricotrin. | Puck. 
 Folle Farine. 
 A Dog cf Flanders. 
 Piscarel. 1 Sign*. 
 Princess Napraxine. 
 Two Wooden Shoes. 
 
 The Waters of Edsra. 
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 Gentle and Simple. 
 
 By JAMES PAYN. 
 
 Lost Sir Massin?berd. , The Talk of the Town. 
 Ths Family Scapegrace Holiday Tasks. 
 
 Moths. I Rufflno. 
 Fipistrello. | Ariadne. 
 A Village Commune. 
 Bimbi. | Wanda. 
 Frescoes. I Othmar. 
 In Miremma. 
 Byrliu. | Guilderoy. 
 Santa Barbara. 
 Two Offenders. 
 
 For Cash Only. 
 The Burnt Million. 
 The Word and the Wi'l. 
 Sunny Storm. 
 A Trying Patinnt. 
 A Modern Dick Whit- 
 tin gton. 
 
 A Coancy Fimi'y. 
 Less Black than We're 
 
 Paiated. 
 
 A Coandeutlal A^ent. 
 A Grao from a thorn. 
 In Poi-ll and Privation. 
 Mystery of Mlrbridge. 
 -its. By Proxr. 
 By WILL PAYNE. -Jerry the Dreamer. 
 
 By Mrs. CAMPBELL PRAED. 
 Outlaw and Lawmaker. I Mrs. Tregaskiss. 
 Christina Chard. I Nul.-na. [ Madame Iran. 
 
 As a Watch in the Night.' 
 By E. C. PRICE.-Valentln*. 
 
 By RICHARD PRYCE. 
 Miss Maxwell's Affections. 
 
 By CHARLES READE. 
 Peg Wofflngton ; and Griffith Gaunt. 
 
 Christie Johnstone. 
 Hard Cash. 
 Cloister ft the Hearth. 
 Never Too Late to Mend 
 
 Love Little, Love Long. 
 The Double llarrla-e. 
 Foal Play. 
 Pat Y'rself In His Place, 
 
 The Coarse of True A Terrible Temptation. 
 
 Love : and Single- A Simpleton. 
 
 heart & Donbleface. A Woman Hater. 
 Autobiography of a TheJi. 
 
 Thief; Jack of all A: Good 8 torus of Man. 
 
 Trades ; A Hero and A Perilous Secret. 
 
 a Martyr; and The, Rea.di.ina; and Bible 
 
 Wandering Heir. Characters. 
 
 By FRANK RICHARUSON. 
 The Man who Lost Bis Past. 
 
 By Mrs. J. H. RIDDELL. 
 Weird Stories. A Rich Man's Daughtr,
 
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 THE PICCADILLY (3/6) NOVELS continued. \ 
 
 By AMELIE RIVES. 
 
 Barbara Bering. I Merlel. 
 
 By F. W. ROBINSON. 
 The Hands ot Justice. I Woman In the Dark. 
 
 By ALBERT ROSS. -A Sugar Princess. 
 
 J. RUNC1MAN. -Skippers and Sheilbarlu 
 
 By VV. CLARK RUSSELL. 
 Round the Galley Fire. ' My Bhipmate Loul.'s 
 In the Middle Watch. ' 
 On the Fo'k'sle Head 
 A Voyage to the Cape. 
 Book for the Hammock. 
 Mrsteryof 'Ocean Star' 
 
 Lik 
 
 Anne 
 
 Bcarbor*ch i family. 
 Til* I-nJ 
 
 Jenny Harlowa. 
 An Ocean Tragedy. 
 A Tale of Two Tunnels 
 The De 
 
 Alone onWIdeWide 6i. 
 The Phantom Death. 
 Is He the Ma ? 
 Good SAt* 'Mohock.' 
 The Convict Bhip. 
 Hart ef Oat. 
 The Tain of the Ten. 
 The Last Eutry. 
 th Ship. 
 
 By DORA RUSSELL.-Drlftf Fate. 
 By HERBERT RUSSELL. True Blue. 
 BAYLE ST. JOHN. -A Levantine Family 
 
 Bv ADELINE SERGEANT. 
 
 Dr. Endfcott's Experiment. 
 Under False Pretences. 
 By M. P. SH IE L.-The Purple Cloud. 
 By GEORGE R. SIMS. 
 
 Dagonet Abroad. I In London's Heart 
 
 Once Upon a Christmas | Mary Jano s Memoirs. 
 
 Time I Mary Jane Married. 
 
 Without the Limelight. The BmaU-pirt Lady. 
 Rogues and Vagabonds. ! A Blin* Marriage. 
 Biographs of Babylon. 
 
 By HAWLEY SMART. 
 
 Without Love or Licence. 
 The Master of Ralhkelly. 
 Long Odds. 
 
 The Outsider. 
 Beatrice A Benedick. 
 A Racing Rubber. 
 
 ByJ. MOYR SMITH. 
 
 The Prince of Argolis. 
 By T. W. SPEIGHT. 
 
 A Secret of the Sea. I A Minion of the Moon. 
 The Grey Monk. i Secret Wy vern Towers 
 
 The Master of Trenance ; The Doom of Siva. 
 The Web of Fate. As it was Written. 
 
 The Strange Experiences of Mr. Verschoyie. 
 
 Her Ladyship. 
 By ALAN sf. AUBYN. 
 
 A Fellow of Trinity. 
 The Junior Dean. 
 Master of St. Benedict's. 
 To his Own Master. 
 Gallantry Bower. 
 In Face of the World. 
 Orchard Damerel. 
 
 The Tremlett Diamonds. 
 The Wooing of Kay 
 A Tragic Honeymoon. 
 A Proctor's Wooiag. 
 Fortune's Sate. 
 Bonnie Maggie Lander. 
 Mary Unwin. 
 
 The Wty we Lire Now. 
 Fran Frohuann. 
 Marlon Fay. 
 
 !'.y IVAN TURUKMLFF. &c. 
 Stories from Foreign N. 
 
 By MARK I \\AIN 
 Choice Works. Pudd nheaA WlUoa. 
 
 Library of Humour. The Gtldtd AM. 
 The Innocents Abroad Piioce aod ti . 
 Roughing It : .m.l The |.n on th< U > 
 
 Innocents at Home. The Advent' 
 A Tramp Abroad. ' Huckleberry Flan 
 
 " bAmericu> Claimant A Ytntr* at ' 
 AJvrnturTemSawy< : 
 Tom Sawyer JLbi*a4. fStc!en WMle ' 
 Torn Sawyar Detective 1 tO) 000 Bu. nU. 
 
 A Double Lai i el'.cd i. 
 C. C. F.-TV 1 l.i:R. Mlstrtu - 
 
 By SARAH TYTI. .,'. 
 WhitSheC*meThrocjh , Mrs Cvrmichaeli Ood- 
 
 ! Diamonds. I deurt 
 
 T.'.- Blackball Ghost i Rachel Lancto*. 
 The Macdonaid Lass. A Honeyciooml EHpw. 
 Witch Wife. | Bapph'.ra ; A Y 
 
 By Al.l.liN I !'V. 
 The Queen against Owen. 
 
 Bv ALBERT D. VANDA.M. 
 A Court Trajeoy. 
 
 By E. A. VIZKTI.I I N 
 The Scorpion. I Te Lov^r s Prep-ua. 
 
 By FLORENCI 
 
 Join, the Curate. A r. 
 
 By CY WARMAN.-Ei' 
 
 By A. V\ I !' 
 Chapenga's White Kan. 
 By WILI.I 
 
 For Honcnr and Life I The 01 
 
 A Wo-nup Tempted Ela 
 
 Her Two HUtons. 
 
 Two Finches of Bnuff 
 
 N\-M Foitescne. 
 
 };ir.h Dene. 
 
 The Phantom City. 
 
 A Queer Eac*. 
 
 Ben Clough. 
 
 I Tnut-woney. 
 
 , Souio' . 
 
 I Roy of Kov sCVwrt. 
 
 1 With the Kd U(U. 
 
 , ARtJ- 
 
 By ATHA WI>il'.rRY. 
 
 The Shadow of Bllton FernV. 
 
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 A Forbidden Niune. 
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 Dunbar s Stcret. 
 
 By JOHN STAFFORD. Doris and I. 
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 By R. NEILSON STEPHENS. 
 Philip Wlnwood. 
 
 R. A. STERNDALE. The Afghan Knife 
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 By FRANK STOCKTON. 
 The Ycnna Waster of Hyson Ball. 
 By SUNDOWNER. Told oy theTaffrall. 
 By ANNIE THOMAS. The Sirens Web. 
 
 By BERTHA THOMAS. 
 The Violin Player. I In a Ca'.heaia! 
 
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 Artemns Ward Complete. 
 
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 Vaferie s Fat.. I By Woman s Wit. 
 
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 i Phosnielaa, 
 
 ESd IS 1 - 1 KStfi^ & 
 
 By ' 'L'L. 'A teUeU Cnlur 
 
 Strange Storie*. 
 For Matmie's Sake. 
 In all Susies. 
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 Little Lady Ltnton. 
 Between Life & Death. 
 
 Found Guilty. 
 
 A Recoiling vengeance. 
 
 For Love andHonour. 
 
 John Ford. &c. 
 Woman o' Iron Brace U 
 The Hardin? Scand il. 
 ; Witness. 
 
 Sin of Olga Zassoulich. 
 Folly Morrison. 
 Lieut. Barnabas. 
 Hrneit Davie. 
 A Prodigal s Progress. 
 
 By Sir W. BESANT and J. RICE. 
 
 Ready Money Mortiboy By Cella s Arbour. 
 
 Chaplain of the Fleet 
 Tne Seamy Side. 
 The Case of Mr. Lucraft. 
 In Trafalgar's Bay. 
 The Ten Tears' Tenant. 
 
 By Sir WALTER BESANT. 
 
 All Sorts and Condi , The Bell of St. Paul's. 
 The Holy Rose. 
 Armors! of Lronesse. 
 S.Katnerine's by Tower 
 Verbena Camellia Ste 
 
 phanotti. 
 The Ivory Gate. 
 The Rebel Queea. 
 Beyond the Dreams of 
 
 Avarice. 
 The Revolt of Mvi. 
 
 My Little Olrl. 
 With Harp and Crown. 
 Thii Bon of Vulcan. 
 The Golden Butterfly. 
 The Monke of Thelema. 
 
 lions ot Men. 
 The Captains Room. 
 All In a Garden Fair. 
 Dorothy Forster. 
 Uncle Jack. 
 The World Want Very 
 
 Well Then. 
 Children of Gibeoa. 
 Hr-r PAU!US. 
 For Falt'i and Freedom 
 T . Gill Her Mine. 
 The Master Craftsman 
 
 In Deacon s Orders 
 The City of Rtiuge. 
 
 Flip. I Marina. 
 
 A Phyllis of the Sierras. 
 A Waif of the Plains. 
 Ward of Golden Gate. 
 
 deline. 
 
 The New Abelard. 
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 Woman and the Man. 
 Rachel Dene, i Matt. 
 Lady Kilpatrick. 
 
 Califorulan Stories 
 Gabriel Couroy. 
 Luck of Roaring Camp. 
 An Heiress of Red Dog. 
 
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 Shadow of the Sword. ! The Martyrdom of 
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 God and the Man. 
 I.ove Me for Ever. 
 Foxglove Manor. 
 The Master of the Mine 
 Annan Water. 
 
 By BUCHANAN and MURRAY. 
 
 Tie Charlatan. 
 
 By HALL CAINE. 
 The Shadow of a Crime, i The Deemster. 
 A Son of Bagar. 
 
 By Commander CAMERON. 
 The Cruise of the 'Black Prince.' 
 
 By HAYDEN CARRUTH. 
 The Adventures of Joats. 
 
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 For the Love of a Lass. 
 
 By Mrs. ARCHER CLIVE. 
 
 Paul Ferroll. 
 
 Why Paul Ferroll Kille 1 his Wife. 
 
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 The Cure of Souls. | The Ked Sultan. 
 
 By WILKIE COLLINS. 
 ArmadaU. | AfterDark. My Miscellanies. 
 Mo Name. 
 Antonina. 
 Basil. 
 
 Hide and Seek. 
 The Dead Secret 
 Queen of Hearts. 
 Miss or Mr*.? 
 The New Magdalen. 
 Tne Frozen Deop. 
 The Law and the Lady 
 The Two uettmiei. 
 Toe Haunted Kotal. 
 A Ragues Life. 
 
 The Woman in White. 
 The Moonstone. 
 Man and Wife. 
 Poor Miss Finch. 
 The Fallen Leaves. 
 Jezebel s Daurhter. 
 The Black Robe. 
 Heart and Science. 
 I Say No ! ' 
 The Evil Genius. 
 Little Hove)*. 
 Legacy of C.ia. 
 
 Biiaa LOT*. 
 
 By AMBROSE BIERCE. 
 
 In the Midst of Life. 
 
 By FREDERICK BOYLE. 
 
 Ci:np Notes. ( Chronicles of No man s 
 
 Savage Life. I Land. 
 
 BY BRET HARTE. 
 
 By C. ALLSTON COLLINS. 
 
 The Bar Sinister. 
 
 By MORT. & FRANCES COLLINS 
 
 Sweet Anne Page. . Sweet and Twenty. 
 Transmigration. The Village Comedy. 
 
 From Midnight to Mid You May roe False. 
 
 night. Blacksmith and Scholar 
 
 A Fltiht with Fortune. Frances 
 
 By M. J. COLQUHOUN. 
 Every Inch a Soldier. 
 
 By C. EGBERT CRADDOCK. 
 The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains. 
 
 By MATT CRIM. 
 The Adventures of a Fair Rebel 
 By H. N. CRELLIN.-Taleiof the Caliph. 
 By B. M. CROKER. 
 
 Pretty Miss Neville. Village Tales and Jungle 
 Diana Harrington. Tragedies. 
 
 To Let.' Two Masters. 
 
 A Bird of Passage. Mr. Jervis. 
 
 Proper Pride. The Real Lady Hilda 
 
 A Family Likeness. Married or Single 1 
 
 A Third Perron. Interference. 
 
 By ALPHONSF. DAUDET. 
 The Evangelist: or. i'ori Salvation. 
 
 By DICK DONOVAN. 
 
 In the Grip of the Law. 
 From Information Re- 
 ceived. 
 
 Tracked to Doom. 
 Link by Link 
 Suspicion Aroused 
 Riddles Read. 
 
 The Man-Hunter 
 
 Tracked and Taken. 
 
 Caught at Last I 
 
 Wanted! 
 
 Who Poisoned Hetty 
 
 Duncan ? 
 
 Man irom Manchester. 
 A Detective s Trinu-phs 
 The Mystery of Jamaica Terrace. 
 The Chronicles of Michael Danentch. 
 
 By Mrs. A.VNII: KDWARDLS. 
 A Point of Honour. ' Archie Lovell. 
 
 By EDWARD EGGLESTON. 
 7 By Q. MANVILLE FENN. 
 
 The NswMUtress. ! The Tiger Lilv. 
 
 Witness to the Deed. | The White VI, gin. 
 
 By PERCY FITZGERALD. 
 
 L'ella Donna. Second Mrs. Tlllotaon. 
 
 Never Forgotten. Seventy five Brooke 
 
 Polly. Street. 
 
 Fatal Zero. The Lady of Brantome 
 
 By P. FITZGERALD and others. 
 
 Strange SecreU. 
 
 By R. E. FRANCILLON. 
 
 Olympia. Kn-< or Knave? 
 
 One by One. Romances of the Law 
 
 A Rei't Queen. Rop*s of Sand. 
 
 Queen Copl.crna. A D >r nd hU Shadow 
 
 By HAROLD FRHDLk'IC. 
 Seth's Brother s Wile. ! The Lawtun G rl. 
 Prefaced by Sir BARTLE FRERE. 
 Pautiurang Hr.ri. 
 
 11 y GILBERT GAUL. 
 A Strange Manuscript. 
 
 By CHARLES GIBBON. 
 Robin Gray. 1 Honour Bound. 
 
 Fancy Free. Flower of tat Forest 
 
 For Lack of Gold. The Braes of Yarro.. . 
 
 What will World Say 1 The Golden Shaft. 
 In Love and War. Of High Degree 
 
 For the King. By Mead ana Stream. 
 
 In Pastures Green. Lovln? a Dream. 
 
 Queen of the Meadow. A Hard Knot. 
 A Heart s Problem. Heart s Delict. 
 
 The Dead Heart. Blood Money. 
 
 Bv WILLIAM GILBERT. 
 James Duke. 
 
 By I-;RNEST OLANVILLE 
 
 The Lost Heireu. I The Foaslcker. 
 
 A Fiir Colonirt. 
 
 By kev. S. BARING GOULD 
 
 Ed ipUer. , Sre.
 
 CHATTO & WINDUS, Publishers, in St. Martin's Lane. London. N\ 
 
 TWO-SHILLING NOVELS continued. 
 
 
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 MERRKK. 
 
 By ANDREW HALLIDAY. 
 
 The Man who was Good. 
 Bv Mrs. MOLESWORTH. 
 
 Every-day Papers. 
 
 Ha 
 
 thercourt Rectory. 
 
 
 By THOMAS HARDY. 
 
 Under the Greenwood Tree. 
 
 By J. 1?. MUDDOCK 
 
 StorlesWeirdand Woo I From the BOMB of Ue 
 
 By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. 
 
 Oarth Love or a Name. 
 
 derrnl. DP 
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 Ellice Quentin. David Polndexters Oil- 
 
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 Miss Cadogna. The Spectre of the 
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 A Model Father. ABltcf HBaaNatw. 
 Joseph s Coat First Person Blnlr 
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 Beatrix Randolph. 
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 Ivan de Blron. 
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 Cynic Fortune Mount Despair 
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 j th- Gate of the 8a. 
 
 
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 Zambra the Detective. 
 
 By A\URRAY and HERMAN. 
 
 One Traveller Returns, i The Bishops Bible. 
 
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 Treason Felony. 
 By Mrs. CASHEL HOEY. 
 The Lover s Creed. 
 By Mrs. GEORGE HOOPER. 
 The Ecuie of Raby. 
 By Mrs. HUNGERFORD. 
 
 Paul Jones s Alias. 
 By HUME NISI 
 Ball Up 1 ' Dr BernardSt Vlacemt 
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 Saint Anns I Billy Billew. 
 By GEORGES OHM 1 
 Dr. Rameau. I A Weird uift 
 
 A Maiden all Forlorn. Lady Veri.er's gMjM. 
 Sa?v a r e * VUC ' WXlZr 17 
 
 By Mrs. O 
 
 Whlteladles. 
 
 Tbe Greatest Kel<es ID 
 
 A Mental Struggle. Cn.ati.factory Lover. 
 A Modern Circe. Lady Patty. 
 A, oil .tart* NoraCreiua. 
 u . wul: Professor's Experiment. 
 By Mrs. ALFRED HUNT. 
 
 That Other Person. I The Leaden Casket. 
 Belt Condemned. 
 By MARK KERSHAW. 
 
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 Held in Bondage. 
 Btrathmore. 
 Chandos. 
 Idalia. 
 Under Two Fltff. 
 Cecil Castleaune sGage 
 Tricdtrin. 
 
 Pn.V 
 
 Two Llt.Woodei Shoes 
 Moths. 
 Blmbl. 
 Plpistrello. 
 A Village commmae 
 Wanda 
 Othnar 
 Frescoes 
 
 Colonial Facts and Fictions. 
 By R. ASHE KING. 
 
 rwsa. 
 Folle Farlne. 
 A Dog of Flanders. 
 
 In Maraisna. 
 Onllderoy. 
 
 A Drawn Game 1 Passion s Slave, 
 ^e tearing of the [ Bell Barry. 
 
 
 Pascarel. 
 Slgna. 
 Princess Napraxlne. 
 
 Rnfnno. 
 Syrlin. 
 Santa Barbara. 
 
 ^By ESMOND LEPELLETIER 
 
 . 
 
 In a Winter City. 
 Ariadne. 
 
 UuiJii W.iOoiB, Wit. 
 and Patnot 
 
 ln g y e joHN LEYS. 
 
 
 Fri By MARQARE 
 
 r AGNES PAI i. 
 
 The Lindsays. 
 
 
 Gentle and Simple. 
 
 
 Bv E. LYNN LINTON. 
 
 
 By Mrs. CAM 
 
 -*BELL PRAl.l'. 
 
 Patricia KeLSl. The Atonement of Learn 
 
 The Romance ol a Sta 
 
 Uon. 
 
 ESSrfr IsS-lfee* 
 
 *!?!* Tha One Too Many. 
 
 
 CirUtina Chcjd. 
 
 ' AVH. 
 
 My Level Dulcie Everton. 
 
 
 By JAlYJ 
 
 Ttie Talk ol U Tw. 
 
 With a Silken Thread. 
 By HENRY W. LUCY. 
 
 
 Bent n-ki Tutor. 
 Mun h- Mas'.er. 
 
 A0ui-nt> ' 
 
 Hoiidartasji 
 A Perfect Tte*sre. 
 What Ke Cost Her 
 
 i'v' IUSTIN MCCARTHY. 
 
 
 0*ctlVtryt 
 
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 Glow wons '. 
 
 
 
 
 The Burnt V. 
 
 Dear Lady I'itiia:n. JKSJ o' Atin-ns 
 
 
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 Waterdaie Nei> i>Dt.urs ..-. ^ t f a 3euot 
 
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 Found Dead. 
 
 Ui.t l ir Mii'.n.' 1 -'- 1 
 
 Mv Enemy's Daughter ine , Mr 
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 1&SSSSS* i?hlUdd..Rl. 
 
 Limi itt By HUGH MACCOLL. 
 
 
 Waters Word. 
 Halves. 
 Fallen Fortunes. 
 Humorous Storte*. 
 COO Reward. 
 A Marine Residence. 
 
 A Woman sV.. 
 The Family S.ap.c.r**.. 
 Owen-lollnesHarTeet 
 Like Fath.r Like 8j 
 Mairlfii Entti iHsti. 
 Rot Wooed bt Wo. 
 Luc Black than W r 
 
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 API': 
 
 the New Republic t i-Tur\VS 
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 Kit _. * 
 The Car.on s * tra 
 
 ATr 
 *OU I'l-' 
 
 A Soldier of Fei IUB. 
 
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 33 CHATTO & WINDUS, Publishers, in St. Martin's Lane, London, W.C. 
 
 TWO-SHILLINO NOVELS continued. 
 
 By ARTHUR 
 
 SKEICMLLY. 
 
 By CHARLES READE. 
 
 A Match in the Dark. 
 
 
 It Is Never Too Late to 
 
 A Terrible Temptation. 
 
 By R. A. STERN DAL!!. 
 
 Mend. 
 
 Foul Play. 
 
 The Afghan Knife. 
 
 
 Christie Johnstono. 
 The Double Marriage. 
 Put Yourself in His 
 Place 
 
 The Wandering Heir. 
 Hard Cash. 
 Singleheart and Double- 
 face. 
 
 Bv ALAN 
 A Fellow of Trinity. 
 The Junior Doan. 
 
 5T. AUBYN. 
 
 Orchard Damere!. 
 In the Fac of the Wo 
 
 Love Me tittle, Love 
 
 Good Stories of Man and 
 
 Mat?rof St.Beaedlct's 
 
 The Tremlett Diamor 
 
 Me Long. 
 
 other Animals. 
 
 To His 0*n Master. 
 
 
 The Cloister and the 
 
 Peg Wofflngton. 
 
 By R. LOUIS 
 
 STEVENSON. 
 
 Hearth. 
 Course of True Lov 
 The Jilt. 
 The Autobiography of 
 a Thief. 
 
 Griffith Gaunt. 
 A Perilous Secret 
 A Simpleton. 
 Readlana. 
 A Woman Hater. 
 
 New Arabian Wight*. 
 
 By ROBERT SURTEES. 
 
 Hacdley Cross. 
 By WALTER THORNBURV. 
 
 By Mrs. J. H. RIDDHLL. 
 
 Weird Stories. , The Uninhabited House. 
 
 Fairy Water. ! The Mystery in Palace 
 
 Her Mother > Darling. ' Gardens 
 The Prince of Wales's ; The Nun's Curse. 
 Garden Party. Idle Tales. 
 
 By F. W. ROBINSON. 
 
 Women are Strange. I The Woman in the Dark 
 
 The Hands of Justice, j 
 
 By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 
 
 Eonnd the Galley Fire, j An Ocean Tragedy. 
 
 On the Fo'k ale Head. lm - -* * 
 
 In the Middle 
 
 A Voyage to the Cape. 
 A Book for the liajn- 
 
 mock. 
 The Mystery of the I 
 
 Ocean Star.' 
 The Romance of Jenny , 
 
 Harlowe. 
 
 My Shipmate Lori.se. 
 Alone on WideWlue Sea. 
 Good Ship Mohock. 1 
 The Phantom Death. 
 Is He the Man ? 
 Heart of Oat. 
 The Convict Shlrv 
 The Tale of the Ten. 
 The Last Entry. 
 
 By DORA RUSSELL. 
 
 A Country Sweetheart. 
 
 By GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. 
 
 Gadight and Daylight. 
 
 By GEORGE R. SIMS. 
 
 The Ring o Bells. 'cp!i. 
 
 Mary Jane's Memoirs. | Memoirs of a Landlady. 
 Mary Jane Married. Scenes from the Show. 
 Tales of To day. The 10 Commandments. 
 
 Dramas o.' Life. Dagonet Abroad. 
 
 Tinkletop s Crime. Rogues and Vagabond*. 
 
 My Two Wives. 
 
 By HAWLEY SMART. 
 Without Love or Licence. I The Plunger 
 Beatrice and Benedick. I Long Odds. 
 The Master of Ratnkelly. | 
 
 By T. W. SPEIGHT. 
 The Mysteries of Heron i Back to Life. 
 
 Dyke. The LoudwaterTragedy. 
 
 The Golden Hoop. ' Bnrgo s Romance. 
 
 Hoodwinked. Quittance In Full. 
 
 By Devious Ways. ' A Husband from the Sea 
 
 Tales for the Marines. 
 
 By T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE. 
 
 Diamond Cut Diamond. 
 
 By F. ELEANOR TROLLOPE. 
 
 Like Ships upon the | Anne Fnrnees. 
 Sea. | Mabel's Progreoi. 
 
 By ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 
 Frau Frohmann. i The American Senator. 
 
 Marion Fay._ Mr. Scarborough s 
 
 Family. 
 GoldenLion of Granpere 
 
 Kept in the Dark. 
 The Way We Live Now. 
 The Land-Leaguers. 
 
 By MARK TWAIN. 
 
 Life on the Mississippi. 
 The Prince and tU; 
 
 Paupor. 
 A Yankee at the Court 
 
 of Kine Arthur. 
 1,000.000 Bank- Note. 
 
 A Pleasure Trip on the 
 
 Continent 
 The Glided Aze. 
 Hnckleberry Finn. 
 Too Sawyer. 
 A Tramp Abroad. 
 Stolen White Elephant. 
 
 By C. C. FRASER-TYTLEk. 
 
 Mistress Judith. 
 
 By SARAH TYTLER. 
 Bride s Pass | Lady Bell The Huguenot V-ir-.i'y 
 Buried D:amonds. Tha Blaukl.all 
 
 St. Mungo s City. Wii.it ShoCameTiircugh 
 
 Noblesse Oblige. i Beauty and the Bsa*t. 
 
 Disappeared. 
 
 By ALLEN UPWARD. 
 The Queen against Owca. 
 
 By WILLIAM WESTALL. 
 Trust-Money. 
 
 By Mrs. F. H. WILLIAMSON. 
 A Child Widow. 
 
 By J. S. WINTER. 
 Cavalry Life. | Regimental Legends. 
 
 By H. F. WOOD. 
 The Passenger from Scotland Yard. 
 The Englishman of the Rue Cam. 
 
 By MARGARET WYNMAN. 
 My Flirtations. 
 
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 Dora Myrl the Lady Detective. By McD. 
 
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 Vincent Trill. Detective. By DICK DONOVAN. 
 Dark Deeds. Xy DICK DON' ' 
 A Crimson Crime. By G. MANVII.LE I-EN.N. 
 Ihe Red Bhirts. By PAUL GAULOT. 
 The Track of a Storm. By OWEN HALL. 
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 Citoycnne Jacqueline. Hy SARAH TV 
 The Queen against Owen, By ALLF.N I'I-WAKU. 
 Joan the Curat>- 
 Sport and Spangles, r.v Bvur -; Wi 
 
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